Poetry, Dreams and Purple Crayons

When I was a senior in high school, my Creative Writing teacher made us write a poem and enter it into some state-wide poetry contest. I'm no poetry fan, so I spent maybe 5 minutes typing up a poem the night before; I don't even think I did spell check. To my surprise, it won first place for the school and went on to regionals (which it also won). The whole thing made me laugh, because it was such a stupid poem and I totally put no effort into it. I just thought, "suckers".

My best friend, who was also in the class, while an incredible technical writer, had spent hours on this assignment and barely passed with a C. She couldn't convince our nutty teacher that she had any "creativity" despite spending hours on every assignment while I wrote ridiculous stories about sad, lost purple crayons that awarded me As. Well, I recently found the poem and Claire and I had a good laugh over it. It was all about dreams (sleeping dreams) which takes me to my next subject.

The reason for lack of writing on here is due to lack of anything interesting in my life. The only thing that I find slightly interesting are my crazy dreams. Recent ones involved visiting an old friend who's phone number spelled out QUAD YELLOW (which is NOT a real phone number, Ryan and I looked it up), who had a roommate who's fiance was named 'Ohio'. Then there was my good friend who's last name was being changed by the government to 'Stomping Ground'. That's right, Jennifer Stomping Ground. I could go on and on. But what's most curious is how so many of them take place on a dream-distorted BYU campus, with old BYU-days friends popping up here and there - you included Cynthia. Does this mean something? Or is my cabin-fever crazed mind working extra hard at night. Well, I have been having a lot of dreams with either the name or state of Ohio in them - I sure hope that doesn't mean anything!