<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928</id><updated>2011-11-12T08:16:16.913-08:00</updated><title type='text'>relative trifles:</title><subtitle type='html'>Dreams are a glimpse into the subconcious. Brandon's subconcious thinks about girls a lot. Peter's worries about killer bugs. Stephanie only remembers her dreams if she sleeps on her left side. Kyle once drove a girls car to the school headmasters house and got suspended. Javier, the latin love machine. Need i say a damn thing more? We DO NOT like reggae music. Oh no, we love it! Except for Kyle. He likes Reggae though.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Brandon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07870703133430352497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>63</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-108301491196336924</id><published>2004-04-26T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-26T14:32:45.123-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>so basically i go to chicago with the mission of leaving with my long time friend Gloria as my wife. the whole dream is her deciding. but it's cool because she talks about it openly with me. i dunno thats all i can remember.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/108301491196336924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=108301491196336924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/108301491196336924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/108301491196336924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/04/so-basically-i-go-to-chicago-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Brandon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07870703133430352497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-108189473446994257</id><published>2004-04-13T15:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-13T15:22:49.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>ok i am down in bloomington at my friends house and i go to the cabinet and get a jar of peanut butter. I start to eat it as I am talking to him and my other friend and I can actually taste it(i am not sure if I had ever tasted thing oin a dream before or least not very often) it actually tastes not that good, sort of blandish, so then the scene switches and we are at this HUGE waterfall like </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/108189473446994257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=108189473446994257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/108189473446994257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/108189473446994257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/04/ok-i-am-down-in-bloomington-at-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-108189340023205293</id><published>2004-04-13T14:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-13T15:00:35.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The weirdest best dream i've ever had.</title><summary type='text'>i'm in some place where waves break from the shore towards the sea. then like 3 people got hurt on the beach, while i was having sex with my ex-girlfriend. After awhile I tell her i want to go surf and she gets all emo. then her dad walks in the room and i'm cruising on the floor. She thought she saw his dad cruising around outside watching but she said he photoshoped himself to disguise himself.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/108189340023205293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=108189340023205293' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/108189340023205293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/108189340023205293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/04/weirdest-best-dream-ive-ever-had.html' title='The weirdest best dream i&apos;ve ever had.'/><author><name>Brandon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07870703133430352497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-108111864117302796</id><published>2004-04-04T15:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-04T15:47:43.950-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I am talking to my tibetan prof in tibetan adn then he gives me his cell phone to talk to his mom in tibetan and it is really confusing.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/108111864117302796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=108111864117302796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/108111864117302796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/108111864117302796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/04/i-am-talking-to-my-tibetan-prof-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-108111841669282076</id><published>2004-04-04T15:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2004-04-04T15:43:59.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I am hanging out with the brady bunch and a friend (you can probably guess who) and this 'friend' wants to go smoke so we all pile in a suburban and go driving. We are drining down this narrow street when a car speeds out in front of us and runs over someone and drives away. everyone thinks it was us cause the ohter car was too fast so we ditch the car cause the cops are coming so we go to this </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/108111841669282076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=108111841669282076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/108111841669282076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/108111841669282076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/04/i-am-hanging-out-with-brady-bunch-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107882565826649829</id><published>2004-03-09T01:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-09T01:50:44.763-08:00</updated><title type='text'>day dream+first dream after teenagehood</title><summary type='text'>so the dream i had today at the t.v. station my uncle works at. i fell asleep under his desk:i'm in fort wayne and i'm at my parents house looking out the back window and at the pool but everything is all distorted and i realize it's a dream and i'm happy about it. i'm trying to go outside to fly and i wake up but i'm all bummed that i didn't make it outside. then i have a long talk with my dad </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107882565826649829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107882565826649829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107882565826649829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107882565826649829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/03/day-dreamfirst-dream-after-teenagehood.html' title='day dream+first dream after teenagehood'/><author><name>Brandon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07870703133430352497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107869880967256063</id><published>2004-03-07T14:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-07T14:36:34.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>i was back in like pre-colonial times or something and we were going down this river, maybe like the amazon, and then there was this other littler river shooting off of it that we went down, a bunch of us in weird old clothes and canoes. so we went down this river for a ways until we saw a little clearing on the left bank, and we started to pull up all the canoes and get out to explore. so we </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107869880967256063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107869880967256063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107869880967256063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107869880967256063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/03/i-was-back-in-like-pre-colonial-times.html' title=''/><author><name>Kyle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15034616374729876252</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107836133156497080</id><published>2004-03-03T16:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-03T16:51:50.496-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>okay so I am back in my dorm in Iowa and my old roomates are there I hang out for awhile. My dorm now has an upstairs, which I dont go up for some reason, and there is a outside balcony (that is actually from a previous dream where I had my friends from fort wayne out and there was a party), so I am hanging out with my roomates and I say somethign about being away for a awhile, in boston then </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107836133156497080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107836133156497080' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107836133156497080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107836133156497080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/03/okay-so-i-am-back-in-my-dorm-in-iowa.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107836128896567196</id><published>2004-03-03T16:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-03T16:51:07.903-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>okay so I am back in my dorm in Iowa and my old roomates are there I hang out for awhile. My dorm now has an upstairs, which I dont go up for some reason, and there is a outside balcony (that is actually from a previous dream where I had my friends from fort wayne out and there was a party), so I am hanging out with my roomates and I say somethign about being away for a awhile, in boston then </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107836128896567196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107836128896567196' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107836128896567196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107836128896567196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/03/okay-so-i-am-back-in-my-dorm-in-iowa_03.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107816440500178724</id><published>2004-03-01T10:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-01T10:09:41.356-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>next night same friend. he is abducted in colombia or somewhere in SA and his parents want me to go find him and bring him back. and so on...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107816440500178724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107816440500178724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107816440500178724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107816440500178724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/03/next-night-same-friend.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107816431956953322</id><published>2004-03-01T10:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-03-01T10:08:15.950-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My friend and I are driving to this ladys house and when we are in her driveway there is a drive by and my friend is shot and killed and I am really upset and cry. then the next day I am hanging out wiht my friends and I dont want to tell them what happened cause I dont want to be the one to break the news let alone talk about it, and my froiend that died is one of my friends I am hanging out </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107816431956953322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107816431956953322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107816431956953322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107816431956953322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/03/my-friend-and-i-are-driving-to-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107787469397848742</id><published>2004-02-27T01:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-27T01:41:05.436-08:00</updated><title type='text'>pay careful attention</title><summary type='text'>i was in jail. i have a dream that i escape. then i wake up and i'm still in jail. i have several more dreams about leaving jail, but without fail i wake up once again still emprisoned.i wish i were making this up. call me if you want to know more...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107787469397848742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107787469397848742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107787469397848742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107787469397848742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/02/pay-careful-attention.html' title='pay careful attention'/><author><name>Brandon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07870703133430352497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107637239342294797</id><published>2004-02-09T16:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-09T16:24:43.670-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm in my room but it's alot bigger, and i'm fixing the heating unit. there is all this water dripping from no where and i'm trying to wipe it up. Then my cell phone starts beeping because i have voice mails. i check the voice mail and it's from some girls saying "you need to get on track, you're so irresponsible, i can't believe you're like this, you are doing horribly." then the call waiting </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107637239342294797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107637239342294797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107637239342294797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107637239342294797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/02/im-in-my-room-but-its-alot-bigger-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Morgan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06705282307835852945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107586854745120897</id><published>2004-02-03T20:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-03T20:24:47.093-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I go to a tibetan monastery and they are doing a chog ceremony.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107586854745120897/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107586854745120897' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107586854745120897'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107586854745120897'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/02/i-go-to-tibetan-monastery-and-they-are.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107586839612531636</id><published>2004-02-03T20:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-02-03T20:22:15.780-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>There is this spider that is eaten by a cat, but then it is only chewed up and then another cat comes out of the old spider. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107586839612531636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107586839612531636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107586839612531636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107586839612531636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/02/there-is-this-spider-that-is-eaten-by.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107557576885473181</id><published>2004-01-31T10:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-31T11:05:04.030-08:00</updated><title type='text'>long time no dreams</title><summary type='text'>ok so i was at home, and i went to this kid ryan lau's house. he's a skateboarder you guys will see some video of this kid. anyways he wasn't home and i really wanted some water and then when i get it and i drink it he appears but i was already in his house and drinking his water and he was like get out of my house. and i felt bad. so i went back home. then i jumped through the shower on the </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107557576885473181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107557576885473181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107557576885473181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107557576885473181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/01/long-time-no-dreams.html' title='long time no dreams'/><author><name>Brandon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07870703133430352497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107553721961182128</id><published>2004-01-31T00:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-31T00:22:34.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>so i had this horrible dream!! i was getting ready to leave to go back to school and i found out that my train was delayed 2 hours and 30 min. well i continued to hang out with erika and stephanie, which was good. then my mom called me and told me the train that was supposed to leave at 10:37pm is now leaving at 5:09am. then i came home and finished packing and then peter called at 3:00am knowing</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107553721961182128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107553721961182128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107553721961182128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107553721961182128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/01/so-i-had-this-horrible-dream-i-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Morgan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06705282307835852945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107535497954139589</id><published>2004-01-28T21:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-28T21:45:10.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>i'm dancing around on water and i have on this really fancy costume. then i fall in the water and the costume floats away. i notice that i'm in an ocean but the water isn't salty. i swim around the ocean with my eyes open and i could feel the water so well, it felt cool and clean. but the biggest thing is the fact that i was swimming in non-salty ocen water, and i was having so much fun. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107535497954139589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107535497954139589' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107535497954139589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107535497954139589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/01/im-dancing-around-on-water-and-i-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Morgan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06705282307835852945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107534066455003433</id><published>2004-01-28T17:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-28T17:46:35.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So these pengun soldiers are taking over the world and the human race has to get away from them, but they are not too hard to get away from becasue they are still penguins and all. So my sister and my dog and my mom run and get into a tralierthat is going to safety then my sister says oh wait we forgot other sister, and I dont want to go through all the trouble in gooing to get her so I think, </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107534066455003433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107534066455003433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107534066455003433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107534066455003433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/01/so-these-pengun-soldiers-are-taking.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107422580483389399</id><published>2004-01-15T20:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-15T20:05:18.576-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>My friend strangled someone to death, I think a dog maybe, then he comes after me so I strangle him, then my mom is really upset. It is night.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107422580483389399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107422580483389399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107422580483389399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107422580483389399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/01/my-friend-strangled-someone-to-death-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107422534928561055</id><published>2004-01-15T19:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-15T19:57:42.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>the other night I spoke tibetan in a dream to someone, but I think he was speaking spanish. I said "say that again"</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107422534928561055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107422534928561055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107422534928561055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107422534928561055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/01/other-night-i-spoke-tibetan-in-dream.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107422510617726602</id><published>2004-01-15T19:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-15T20:09:29.746-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I just woke up and in my dream I was here in bloomington walking down the sidewalk, I think it was Lincoln street, anyway this person came up to me and told me to use this seashell on my nose, like to wipe my nose, and then she said that americans just dont properly understand how to wipe their nose with a sea shell so they dont trust it, then she said that this is like tantra and americans dont </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107422510617726602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107422510617726602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107422510617726602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107422510617726602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/01/i-just-woke-up-and-in-my-dream-i-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107413381770020719</id><published>2004-01-14T18:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-14T18:32:09.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I'm not sure where this dream starts but I'm under a tree in the middle of a conversation with someone. They keep talking to me with an unhappy look on there face and I just kept smiling and pointing to the sky. The sky kept changing from so bright it was just one big glare to a clear blue. They just keep talking to me, every word getting more and more angry with me. I tried to say something but </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107413381770020719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107413381770020719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107413381770020719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107413381770020719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/01/im-not-sure-where-this-dream-starts.html' title=''/><author><name>javier</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08480386033837133063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107385432827683921</id><published>2004-01-11T12:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-11T12:52:29.376-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Ths is a long one...So Im in the desert with anoither person and we are looking for water, there is this tree so I pull it out because there is probably water under it, the sand is damp in a circle and I drink this droplet of water I find. Then we are either in the ocean or by it and there is this huge craft, like a spaceship, in the water. My team and I get into it by going under water and up </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107385432827683921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107385432827683921' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107385432827683921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107385432827683921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/01/ths-is-long-one.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107378383362110764</id><published>2004-01-10T17:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-10T17:17:34.260-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I am back at my middle school and I am looking for a classroom so I ask this kid who looks like hes in elementary school where it is, he doesnt answer me so I start yelling the question at him to try to get his attention then he gets really mad and starts yelling at me and trying to pick a fight but I just start laughing and find it introvertedly humorous, then my old teacher gets me in trouble. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107378383362110764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107378383362110764' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107378383362110764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107378383362110764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/01/i-am-back-at-my-middle-school-and-i-am.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107360698636146095</id><published>2004-01-08T16:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-08T16:10:06.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This dream I had last night was sort of gross so I wont right about it but Braandon you were in it, not the bad parts though...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107360698636146095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107360698636146095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107360698636146095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107360698636146095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/01/this-dream-i-had-last-night-was-sort.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107360677992917845</id><published>2004-01-08T16:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-08T16:06:40.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I learned how to transport myself through a metallic substance. I would close my eyes and concentrate really hard and think myself into the place I wanted to go, sometimes I was a little off.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107360677992917845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107360677992917845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107360677992917845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107360677992917845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/01/i-learned-how-to-transport-myself.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107360664703145270</id><published>2004-01-08T16:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-08T16:04:27.250-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This guy had some hostages or had people in danger or something and told me if I wanted to save them I needed to cut my hair off, so I did with some scissors.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107360664703145270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107360664703145270' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107360664703145270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107360664703145270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2004/01/this-guy-had-some-hostages-or-had.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107125521559676614</id><published>2003-12-12T10:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-12-12T10:53:55.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>so i was going up these stairs with a friend to an attic in this really old house, and then i remember that i had gotten a dvd earlier in the day from some band that was putting on a free show, and i went back down to go back to the place and get it, but when i got downstairs there was this guy from the band or something there, and he had it for me, and then he and my friend and i were all going </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107125521559676614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107125521559676614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107125521559676614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107125521559676614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/12/so-i-was-going-up-these-stairs-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Kyle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15034616374729876252</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107078877250787420</id><published>2003-12-07T01:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-12-07T01:19:43.910-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>i was on the second floor of some building on campus, leaning out the window. tyler from high school is outside, and i'm trying to ask him something. for some reason, he is carrying two big, like 4-6 inch diameter PVC pipes around, one is in his hand and the other is like 2 put together with a 3-way elbow joint, and tyler has his lips around the open part of the joint, so he's talking to me </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107078877250787420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107078877250787420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107078877250787420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107078877250787420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/12/i-was-on-second-floor-of-some-building.html' title=''/><author><name>Kyle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15034616374729876252</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107066762119118594</id><published>2003-12-05T15:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-12-05T15:40:31.930-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>i was standing against a wall then turned around and morgan told me i had shit all over my back. the end.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107066762119118594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107066762119118594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107066762119118594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107066762119118594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/12/i-was-standing-against-wall-then.html' title=''/><author><name>stephanie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05770375602972408963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107048742511898189</id><published>2003-12-03T13:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-12-03T13:37:15.410-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"bag of terra chips"</title><summary type='text'>background:so...morgan and i are walking around bloomingdales we see a bag of terra chips sitting on a sweater, later on we see a woman walking with a bag of terra chips....man with bag of terra chips...security guards eating terra chips.last night i had a dream that a bag of terra chips fell on this table...all the huge seasony crunchy chips fell on the table, so we started to eat them...they </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107048742511898189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107048742511898189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107048742511898189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107048742511898189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/12/bag-of-terra-chips.html' title='&quot;bag of terra chips&quot;'/><author><name>stephanie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05770375602972408963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107023223670816261</id><published>2003-11-30T14:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-30T14:44:06.300-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This dream was just glimpses of skateboarding, not like most of my other dreams it was hazy and hard to remember. I don't even remember trying any tricks, I just know I was on my skateboard. Also this girl I have a crush on is in the dream. She lives in my neighborhood in this dream, and i just keep skateboarding. Much like real life. Hot girls, but I keep skating. and falling...</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107023223670816261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107023223670816261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107023223670816261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107023223670816261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/this-dream-was-just-glimpses-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Brandon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07870703133430352497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-107000058776862355</id><published>2003-11-27T22:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-27T22:23:16.860-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I was in NYC with stephanie but it didn't look like the city it looked like a canyon. There were all of these people standing at the edge and i was talking to some of them. everyone was looking at something but i couldn't see it. then i see stephanie in a car... my car. she was driving and i got in the passenger seat. i remember getting so mad at her because she was driving near the edge and she </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/107000058776862355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=107000058776862355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107000058776862355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/107000058776862355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/i-was-in-nyc-with-stephanie-but-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Morgan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06705282307835852945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106988856615738576</id><published>2003-11-26T14:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-26T15:16:14.903-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>So I'n barely willing to admit one of these dreams, because it weirded me out so much. Still does but oh well. First Dream: I was in Hawaii, just like in real life, and I was at some strange building where I was skateboarding and I think I went to the beach and there were crazy big waves, and i got caught in a whirlpool. Someone pulled me out but thn this kid startd to pick a fight with me. He </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106988856615738576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106988856615738576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106988856615738576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106988856615738576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/so-in-barely-willing-to-admit-one-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Brandon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07870703133430352497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106971791603740543</id><published>2003-11-24T15:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-24T15:52:03.730-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>i remember i was at some party in a house in south america or something, and then my friend gustavo and i went out to fly a kite, and we ran with it by these big telephone poles, but for some reason we both had strings for the kite, and he had to reel his in while i let mine out for it to fly. he wrapped the string he brought in around his neck, just kept wrapping it and kept running. then two </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106971791603740543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106971791603740543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106971791603740543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106971791603740543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/i-remember-i-was-at-some-party-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Kyle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15034616374729876252</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106927091376514035</id><published>2003-11-19T11:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-19T11:42:00.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I was in dance rehearsal and i was standing against the wall. the room reminded me of a high school gym. there was a bunch of girls that i didn't know dancing and i was waiting for my turn. then i started dancing and someone yelled at me to stop and get off the floor. i left and the girl who took my place was Angie Shed (random girl from high school)!! i don't know why the hell angie shed was in </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106927091376514035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106927091376514035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106927091376514035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106927091376514035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/i-was-in-dance-rehearsal-and-i-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Morgan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06705282307835852945</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106926904731423043</id><published>2003-11-19T11:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-24T15:48:59.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>this morning i kept hitting the snooze button on my alarm, so i had lots of little like mini-dreams, sometimes i would go back to the one i was having before. the first i remember was i was at a fire station, and i was living there, and i guess my dad was a firefighter, and i remember sliding down the pole and seeing where the polish had worn off. then i remember i was in theis weird downtown </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106926904731423043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106926904731423043' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106926904731423043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106926904731423043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/this-morning-i-kept-hitting-snooze.html' title=''/><author><name>Kyle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15034616374729876252</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106914307078796837</id><published>2003-11-17T23:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-18T00:11:17.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>In this dream I was hanging out with Jon Harris, for thos of you who don't know a friend from high school. yeayer. we were at his house, but his house in my dream is nothing like his house in real life. we got there by bike, but i don't know from where. We ate some twix ice cream bars and some tasty licorice. then i read a postcard his brother wrote. he was snowboarding in new york. then i caught</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106914307078796837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106914307078796837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106914307078796837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106914307078796837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/in-this-dream-i-was-hanging-out-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Brandon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07870703133430352497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106912589513245267</id><published>2003-11-17T19:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-17T19:25:01.413-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'> don't know where i was. i had been crying uncontrollably for hours...."he" appeared and tried to comfort me...but he was the one that made me hurt. my eyes were incredibly puffy making my face look strange. i couldn't figure out what was wrong with me....all i wanted was to stop crying. but he stayed and i cried harder and harder until i was gasping for air, my body was convulsing. i wanted him </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106912589513245267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106912589513245267' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106912589513245267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106912589513245267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/dont-know-where-i-was.html' title=''/><author><name>stephanie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05770375602972408963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106912580470888126</id><published>2003-11-17T19:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-17T19:23:31.026-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Erika's Dream</title><summary type='text'>first a little background info....I have a fear of water, heights and fish.  in the middle of the ocean there is a rock formation that stands miles high.  Alone I stand on the top with barely enough room for my two feet.  The sky is dark and hazey.  I feel so scared and alone.  I concentrate on my balance, but I become dizzy and try to sit down.  suddenly I lose complete control of my body and </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106912580470888126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106912580470888126' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106912580470888126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106912580470888126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/erikas-dream.html' title='Erika&apos;s Dream'/><author><name>stephanie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05770375602972408963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106897198912705467</id><published>2003-11-16T00:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-16T00:39:54.776-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It was me and my skateboard at some girl's house, but i've never met her before. i have this strange tendancy to meet people i don't know after i dream about them. anyways she was a friend of this girl sarah i met this summer. while i'm hazy on the details i do remember realizing that it was a dream. this is because when i was skateboarding i landed an impossible late flip and thought "I must be </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106897198912705467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106897198912705467' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106897198912705467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106897198912705467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/it-was-me-and-my-skateboard-at-some.html' title=''/><author><name>Brandon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07870703133430352497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106883562923681968</id><published>2003-11-14T10:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-14T10:56:51.670-08:00</updated><title type='text'>JAVIERS DREAM</title><summary type='text'>This dream starts in some park or something that I'm familiar with, but I don't exactly know where. I'm sitting on a bench and I look down and the entire ground is covered in marbles. Some of my friends start to show up around me one by one while I just keep staring at the marbles. I start to search for the coolest marbles and everyone just stands there giving me a crazy look. I finally found the</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106883562923681968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106883562923681968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106883562923681968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106883562923681968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/javiers-dream.html' title='JAVIERS DREAM'/><author><name>stephanie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05770375602972408963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106870019258553871</id><published>2003-11-12T21:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-12T21:09:57.896-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>inside some mall...in a small room with a tv...javs, peter and brandon are watching tv while john andrew and i eat strange funky looking candies john was giving us. john would explain the candy to me, i would explain it to andrew and then andrew would eat it. then i went inside a store with lots of ugly cheap clothes and this girl kept making me try things on, then i ran away.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106870019258553871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106870019258553871' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106870019258553871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106870019258553871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/inside-some-mall.html' title=''/><author><name>stephanie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05770375602972408963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106860415812286597</id><published>2003-11-11T18:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-11T18:29:22.860-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>past 3 nights...run a red light .... see the face of some old guy.  the dream ends.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106860415812286597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106860415812286597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106860415812286597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106860415812286597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/past-3-nights.html' title=''/><author><name>stephanie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05770375602972408963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106858655116138492</id><published>2003-11-11T13:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-11T13:35:55.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Alright these dreams are from my childhood but they have left an impression on me so I will rigth them here. I really can only remember the dream part of two of them but they produced the same effect, I think there was more but I cant remember them because it was awhile ago. In the first dream there is an image of a butterfly and nothing else in the image its wings are spread apart and it is </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106858655116138492/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106858655116138492' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106858655116138492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106858655116138492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/alright-these-dreams-are-from-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106843604210437519</id><published>2003-11-09T19:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-09T19:47:26.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>In this dream I am in love with this girl and she is in love with me and everythingis happy.</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106843604210437519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106843604210437519' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106843604210437519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106843604210437519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/in-this-dream-i-am-in-love-with-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106814562845040292</id><published>2003-11-06T11:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-10T17:10:20.706-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I find my self back in Boston, I dont know how I got here but while Im here in my old dorm I will see whats up with people. I go see NiKo, oh yeah its summer too, and he has taken over johns room so he has more space to work I ask him how it is not having to deal with vince and Joe and then I see the room listing and their are other people staying there and he put down soem japanese name for </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106814562845040292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106814562845040292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106814562845040292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106814562845040292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/i-find-my-self-back-in-boston-i-dont.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106809145625335320</id><published>2003-11-05T20:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-05T20:04:19.860-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>I was at Wal-Mart with my mom, my grandma, my great-grandma, and my 5 year old cousin Rio. We were in line checking out and my cousin started too pee his pants. It was super dramatic he was lying on the ground screaming and pissing everywhere, so I walked to the car while my grandma took him to the bathroom. We were back at home and my great grandma stated jumping on the bed. Then she fell off so</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106809145625335320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106809145625335320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106809145625335320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106809145625335320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/i-was-at-wal-mart-with-my-mom-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Brandon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07870703133430352497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106805457220505739</id><published>2003-11-05T09:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-10T17:23:57.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>This dream was from the other night. I had this huge vacant mansion will all these empty rooms, I was only living in the coolest one, I think it had a waterfall or some running water, and down the hall I set my laptop and some other things in the computer room.  We were hangin out and then I wondered why I dont have roomates with all this space and I thought Javier should come down to bloomington</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106805457220505739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106805457220505739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106805457220505739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106805457220505739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/this-dream-was-from-other-night.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106782787228817530</id><published>2003-11-02T18:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-02T18:51:14.450-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>i dreamt i was driving this green cartoon looking car down a never ending empty road. the car didn't belong to me, and i don't know whose it was. all i could think about was using up the gas, and how i was going to refill the tank with no money. i thought maybe there would be gas in the trunk, but if i used that "they" would know i had driven the car. so somehow i had to find a way to refill this</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106782787228817530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106782787228817530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106782787228817530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106782787228817530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/i-dreamt-i-was-driving-this-green.html' title=''/><author><name>stephanie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05770375602972408963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106773549730374260</id><published>2003-11-01T17:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-11-01T17:11:39.713-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Me and Ochuko were renting an apartment before we went to college. We had these weird russian roommates that I've dreamt about before. The family consists of a super old grandma, old parents, and one whiny, pushy boy of 8 or 9 years old who smoked a pack a day. He walked all over his parents, so he could do whatever he wanted. He always let me bum cigarettes. The only thing else I remember is </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106773549730374260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106773549730374260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106773549730374260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106773549730374260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/me-and-ochuko-were-renting-apartment.html' title=''/><author><name>Brandon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07870703133430352497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106772449867292026</id><published>2003-11-01T14:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-10T17:21:10.166-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>It is night and Im arrested for this this armed robbery I took place in with soem other kids. Im in jail and I sit in my cell all night to wait for my initial hearing. I dont mind going to prison, becasue I think it will be a good chance to do some serious meditation but I just want acell to myself and NOT to be butt raped (only things im worried about) I am trying to figure out how toget a hold </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106772449867292026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106772449867292026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106772449867292026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106772449867292026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/11/it-is-night-and-im-arrested-for-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106765510007481049</id><published>2003-10-31T18:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-10-31T18:51:42.476-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>i moved to new york city....started off living in a trashy apartment with no floor. the furniture was hung to the walls with sewing thread, there were boards hung to crawl to the furniture. i was too lazy to live there and try to do this(even though rent was $100/month.) so i moved to some large building where strange girls lived. the floors were different colors...pink,white and green.my room </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106765510007481049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106765510007481049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106765510007481049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106765510007481049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/10/i-moved-to-new-york-city.html' title=''/><author><name>stephanie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05770375602972408963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106764203604878645</id><published>2003-10-31T15:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-10T17:34:05.280-08:00</updated><title type='text'>john mccormicks dreams on shelves</title><summary type='text'>so the past few nights i've been dreaming about being stuck up on a shelf. I willingly crawl on the shelf however once i get there i cannot move. so last night i fell asleep and starting dreaming. i often fantasize about running away, which is odd because i live by myself, so i wouldn't really be running away from anything except my possesions. so anyway i had this dream that i ran away and went </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106764203604878645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106764203604878645' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106764203604878645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106764203604878645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/10/john-mccormicks-dreams-on-shelves.html' title='john mccormicks dreams on shelves'/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106762410884668675</id><published>2003-10-31T10:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-10-31T10:15:10.873-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>my first dream was something about a dog. The second one I was at this place with alot of people, it was outside and there was this string that connected the ocean together by all the fish that were in it. It seems to be on a smaller scale but it still went for a long way. You could pull yourself along it and, its hard to explain, but you would sort of see the fish in that spot in the ocean at </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106762410884668675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106762410884668675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106762410884668675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106762410884668675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/10/my-first-dream-was-something-about-dog.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106757524806202929</id><published>2003-10-30T20:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-10-30T20:40:49.576-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>childhooddream:this sticks out, so it's my first....dream starts out inside a plastic cabbage patch kid play house in my backyard.i was chased there by a "scarecrow doll" looking man with hair made of spaghetti(meatballs/flies and all). for some unknown reason "spaghetti man" was trying to kill me. i was trying so hard to keep the windows shut but he kept popping his rotten spaghetti head in and </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106757524806202929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106757524806202929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106757524806202929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106757524806202929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/10/childhooddreamthis-sticks-out-so-its.html' title=''/><author><name>stephanie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05770375602972408963</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106748087717629365</id><published>2003-10-29T18:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2004-01-10T17:02:59.943-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>okay this dream isnt too interesting but im using this site as a dream journal so anything goes you know. So I'm at my house in the front yard and my friend JLoops is there and we go inside to play halo but we go to my computer. My friend shows up and she is sitting in the kitchen with my mom. She has this box that is her dad's. Its about six inches long and 3 or 4 wide and its gold i think. </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106748087717629365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106748087717629365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106748087717629365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106748087717629365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/10/okay-this-dream-isnt-too-interesting.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106739957239147023</id><published>2003-10-28T19:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-10-28T19:52:54.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>yesterday: I was with my family at we were all staying at this house and all of a sudden the earth opened up in different places and there was lava in the cracks where it did and we had to get out because of the danger. today: I am at my apartment, which was different in the dream, and these visitors come, a man and wife (I will not say who) but I get in a huge arguement with the guy and get </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106739957239147023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106739957239147023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106739957239147023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106739957239147023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/10/yesterday-i-was-with-my-family-at-we.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106739597118549889</id><published>2003-10-28T17:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-10-28T18:52:52.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Speaking of Johnny Cash, this dream was from the 26th, but it was a new drem experience for me. I had just been waken up, and I said to myself, "I'm gonna start dreaming again. When some thought entered my mind, before i knew what was going on I was back asleep and dreaming. Here it is:I was standing above a hole that went straight into the ground. All along the sides were these holes where </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106739597118549889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106739597118549889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106739597118549889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106739597118549889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/10/speaking-of-johnny-cash-this-dream-was.html' title=''/><author><name>Brandon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07870703133430352497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106722629726155910</id><published>2003-10-26T19:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-10-27T01:50:06.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Alright so these two dreams are from a little while ago but they are gonna start me out cause they really stick out in my mind. Ok the first one: I can't remember the dream but all of a sudden the scene changes and I am in this wide open area covered by flat rocks and I realize that I am dreaming. There is a woman in the distance and I feel like I should go over there. I look at the clouds in the</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106722629726155910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106722629726155910' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106722629726155910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106722629726155910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/10/alright-so-these-two-dreams-are-from.html' title=''/><author><name>Peter</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07763819110949165386</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106696607578106390</id><published>2003-10-23T13:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-10-23T20:27:55.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>Even though I love children, I hate it when my little cousins bounce on me in the morning. I sleep on an air matress so it's like a trampoline when run and jump on it. I catch an inch of air and groggily struggle not resorting to violence. I try to pretend that I'm still asleep, ya know "play dead". I should know that shit won't work, I've seen the discovery channel before. It just fuels the fire</summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106696607578106390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106696607578106390' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106696607578106390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106696607578106390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/10/even-though-i-love-children-i-hate-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Brandon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07870703133430352497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5979928.post-106690254272847088</id><published>2003-10-23T02:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2003-10-23T03:08:20.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><summary type='text'>   Welcome to my waste of space. I'd like to think that someday it will be more than that, but I doubt I have the patience or the time. Oh well. So anyways check it out, I'm assuming you know me, but you may not. Ok I admit it I'm kinda at a loss of inspiration right now. So sue me asshole. Last Night's Dream     I joined the militairy. I had a reason why in my dream but it escapes me now. My </summary><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/feeds/106690254272847088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5979928&amp;postID=106690254272847088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106690254272847088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5979928/posts/default/106690254272847088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relativetrifles.blogspot.com/2003/10/welcome-to-my-waste-of-space.html' title=''/><author><name>Brandon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07870703133430352497</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
