Dreamscape

Let me first say that I rarely remember my dreams, and usually when I do it has a sci-fi related theme. Why I can't dream of attractive men loving me I have no idea, but it is what it is. My latest dream was the coolest one yet so I thought I'd share:

It starts out with me, my sister, our mother, and our father working for a rich family, don't remember what we were doing but I think it was butler/servant-y. Anyway, we lived in a house adjacent to the big house, but it looked like my current garage. In fact most of our stuff was stored in an old van. 

At one point my dad dies. 

Then later while watching the stars I find out my mother is from another planet. So I ask her a few questions about it like, does it look like earth? Yes. Is it older than earth? No. And I don't remember what else. While we're looking at the sky there are skywriters that say weird things. I think one of them is "I love [someone]". But the point is that they cover up some stars and one of them happens to be a super nova that will destroy the earth. 

Despite the cover my mom notices and tells us to pack our things because we need to get off planet. I ask her if maybe the skywriters did it on purpose, but she just says that they would have had to cover the entire earth to do that because someone else will notice. The government does notice and warns everyone on earth, and our only advantage is the fact that our mom is not from here. 

The rich family vacates the house, we're getting ready to leave, and then a couple more people show up (for completely legit reasons that I have no clue what they were now) but one of them is some kind of scientist that will be helpful to have around. So we decide to take them with us. 

We're happy that now we have to take the van (instead of the smaller car we were going to take) because the van holds a lot of memories of our dad. But we need to go back into the main house to get more stuff. Problem is, the family had turned the security system on and instead of just being able to plug the numbers in and shut it off it turns into a long series of clues and actions that we have to figure out in order to turn off. 

We're a little slow in completing the tasks so a police officer shows up (apparently things on earth haven't deteriorated that badly yet if the police are still showing up for this kind of stuff). Anyway, the guy is cool and roots for us to complete the code. I don't know why we didn't just ignore it, grab whatever we needed, and get out of there, but whatever. 

I don't remember everything we had to do, but the last one (the one I awoke without finishing) was super strange. I had to put these tablets in water, and boil it, then over that I had to boil 2 droplets of women's blood and if the blood tested was acidy after boiled then the code would be completed and the system would shut off. I was just about to prick my finger when I woke up.

Suffice it to say that I must have an awesome imagination because how great would this book be?

Dub- Please Stop

It all started with a question: what is dubstep? Cut to 20 minutes and a wikipedia page later and me finding out that it's a much more complicated question than I thought. Dubstep was not the dance movement I assumed it was (I make a lot of assumptions that turn out to be wrong, ask my sister), nor did it originate in America (which is one of the assumptions I make about trendy stuff; I love America, sorry the rest of the world). Dubstep is in fact a music genre. But not just a regular genre, there's like a bah-jillion different kinds and sub-genres that I will not get into because: Wikipedia. And as many versions of it as there are, there are just as many people who have strong opinions on what the "real" thing is.

All this seems silly to me. I mean, who is spending the time cataloguing it? And is anyone's ear actually trained enough to tell the difference? No matter how long you argue with me there is no way I'll be convinced that just by listening you can, with a high percentage of accuracy, place exactly where the version you're hearing is from. On another note, who cares? Music is music, can't we just say we like what we hear without having to categorize it? I'm sick of justifying what I listen to based on the box someone else put it in. If it sounds good to me, I'm going to like it, and probably give someone money for it. The End.