DREAMS

My Auntie called me on the phone today and told me to post pictures of my parents after my "financial letter" so that people realise I am telling the truth. A photo of my skinny mother with my dad who regularly gets mistaken for a hobo. What a joker eh 

AnyVES I have some pretty crazy ass dreams. Especially if I go to bed drunk. I even have the ability to dream when I am awake. I can have Ice-Dreams *copyright alex briggs where I dream about ice cream whilst wide awake. It's totally MAD. 

But I’m talking about the kind of dreams that people have when they grow up. Dreams for future life. Aspirations. Wishes. Shit like that.

I’ve always wanted to be a ballerina. Ballerina’s are beautiful.  But then I was told that ballerina’s have to be tall and skinny. Well, I have an ass and I’m 5ft 3 and even that’s pushing it. Then I watched the film Black Swan and had a dream about dancing in the nutcracker and literally getting crushed in a nutcracker during my performance.  Rough

Being a spy is my ultimate ambition. But I’ve never understood how spies become spies if all spies are top secret. To get to be a spy you must be in with a spy in the first place. It's like the chicken and the egg story. One must have gotten there in the first place but NO ONE friggin knows the answer!

Bakery has always appealed to me. Yet, every time I bake a cake, I manage to set something on fire. Burning the metal pot. My own hair. Even the cake has been set on fire once. The possibilities of what destruction I could potentially cause to my household items and myself are endless.    Just today, I merely OPENED the fridge and a glass pot of pesto fell out onto my toe. Purple toe = saved messy glass clear up. So I guess it was fate.

Police women, astronauts and professional footballers were also considered future dream careers, but then I was advised by my father not to commit myself to a job that involved tremendous amounts of training, effort and bodily exhaustion.  "It's like the army Rachel. You'd get shot for messing about."

Thinking about what I want to be is overly stressful and now my brain hurts just from the thought. Today we learnt about brains in biology. I asked me teacher if we could dissect  a brain and she answers with "Are you actually joking?". Every time I ask inquisitive questions teachers always seem to get mad. Asking to sleep over at the science museum for a class trip didn't go down too well either. Safety hazard shit


So instead of deciding on my future career, I shall write about a favourite nut of mine. 

Ode to Pistachios:

They aren’t given enough credit in this world. 

  

Even to those little pistachios at the bottom of the pot that are impossible to open, I love you all.  Every one of you. Opening each shell is like opening a new Chanukah present. 

Amen