Dreams

I'm one of those fortunate people who often remembers my dreams. They are, for the most part, vivid and realistic. They often relate to the last thing I thought about before going to sleep. (Is there research that proves this happens? I think it's pretty common.) They always affect my sleep. Sometimes the more real they seem, the more I'm freaked out and wake myself up. Other times I really want to see what happens (like on Bravo's Project Runway), so I force myself to sleep longer and force some sort of resolution that let's me open my eyes without regret. But dreams are only part of the reason I've created this blog.

I rarely fall asleep easily. I can go a day without a significantly creative or unique idea. Quoting Three Amigos in meetings, referencing and relating life experiences MTV's Next or Gauntlet 2, or lipsyncing The Best of Both Worlds as I run on the treadmill, originality is something that takes a little work or removal from it. Thus, when I get into bed, all those ideas (great and awful) that alluded me during the day, enter my mind like pop-up video. But that's not really why I'm blogging either.

Basically, I want a place to store my thoughts, ideas, rants and pictures, and I want a means for connection. It's been about 6 months since I've moved to Minneapolis and I want to give people (my friends and family) a taste of my life here. And true to form, I want to make sure they don't forget me... and if possible, I remain on center stage. In other words, it was easier for the world to revolve around me in NY than MN. (Though the U.S. can revolve around me better here.)

So without further ado, and how fittingly historic and cheesily pun-y for my inaugural blog day, I bring to you my dream... hollisterings of Salvador Walleye.