I just read today that The Dresden Files the TV show starring Paul Blackthorne was officially cancelled. Yes, I’m behind the times, but when is this new? Having read about it on Jim Butcher’s website, I suppose I’m not tearing up. Hell, I haven’t even seen a single episode yet. But still. I don’t like to see things cut short in their prime, especially if they’re things like a fantasy television series based on a terrific book series. As one of the people said in a comment on Jim’s page, I was glad to see the series flourish because I knew it was by proxy bringing attention to the books and I can’t help but be happy about that. I think of fantasy writers, for the most part, as brothers and sisters in arms (I do try my best not to view them as my future competition; no one writes the same stories, after all), and I want to support them.

Anyway, I accidentally slept in a bit today. GAH. I am going to have to learn that I need to set an alarm for myself, big time, across the room, to prevent such things. The reason why was because I was having a tremendously visual, detailed dream. In it, Bryan and I were in a college campus when it was flooded with pre-college students and we were lost, unable to find our way out between the surprisingly short buildings with lots of courtyards (yeah, I know — long live the stereotype). Then once we stumbled out, we came upon CMU’s Cut, filled with white tents — a fair. There were lots and lots of vendors selling all sorts of things. We found a tent selling dogs — puppies, among them — crammed quietly into little cages just big enough to fit them. (The cruelty of this didn’t penetrate in the dream.) We walked down the rows and Bryan lamented over the fact that he is still allergic to dogs (we just did the test with two shih tzus this last week at his parents’ house — he is allergic, even to hair dogs) and then I saw a row of labrador retriever puppies — chocolate and black labs. I squealed and thought instantly of my parents. Then Bryan pulled out a cell phone and called my parents and asked if they’d like it if we bought them a labrador puppy. They said, “Absolutely, but we’d like to be there when you do!” and there they appeared. Somehow they found a little tiny chocolate lab puppy and brought her over to the cashier who demanded not the price tag of $700, but $1700. My parents said they had $1500 and would like to haggle. Then I looked at the cashier and said, slowly tearing up, that last year my parents lost my dog Ebony of fifteen years, whom they had gotten when I was six years old. I explained that the dog meant as much to our family as a third daughter and that losing her hit my parents incredibly hard. They needed not a replacement, but a new loving soul that would fill their home with compassion and help them heal. Apparently as I was saying this, everyone was tearing up, including the cashier, who suddenly balked at my dad’s money and said, “Take the puppy — free of charge.” (I dream in cliches, apparently.) Then I woke up and it was noon.

I need to get back into a regular sleep pattern… though with that will come the absence of dreams, or lack of the interesting ones, which is sad…

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