Let me tell you the weird dream I had about pasta.

In the dream, there is this company in northern Idaho that specializes in making pasta that is named after different metal/hard rock bands. There is nothing particularly special about the pasta itself or even the shapes – they’re just named after metal or hard rock bands. For example, the manicotti noodle shape was called “Slayer.”

I am exceptionally intrigued by these noodles in the dream, so my mom, Nate, and I take a road trip from Moscow up to somewhere past Coeur d’Alene where the pasta is sold in some huge mall. We get to the store that sells the pasta and rather than reasonable quantities of noodles being sold in boxes, they’re sold by the pair at the same price as a box (according to the company, this is so that you can mix and match shapes to your liking).

And they’re also sold on those little earring display cards.

Like, instead of this:

It’s this kind of thing:

Oh, did I mention the pasta company was called Celebrezze? That’s weird as hell because Celebrezze was the last name of my high school principal.

Guess he’s making pasta for the 1 percenters now.

Anyway.

The names of the pastas are on the backs of the earring cards and Nate’s quizzing me on matching the band names with the pastas.

I’m terrible at it.

He’s making fun of me because he thinks it’s because I don’t know my metal/hard rock bands, but really it’s because there is no logical connection between a band and what pasta shape they get.
Like, there’s no reason Slayer should be manicotti…but there’s no reason Slayer should not be manicotti, y’know?

Oh, and my mom got a new car in the dream. She just drove it right up to us in the mall because she was so excited about it. It was the same make and model of her previous car, but it was a different color.

Anyway.

Also, apparently I can still reconstruct Lead with cellular accuracy from somewhere deep in my subconscious, ‘cause he was in the car with my mom and was busy pointing out some design flaw with the odometer display that I had pointed out A MILLION TIMES BEFORE but my mom was like, “oh my god, I’ve never noticed that before, you’re so smart!” and it’s like why must he be better than me even in my dreams????

(Run-on sentence)

Except for that one dream I had a while ago where the two of us were on Jeopardy! and all of the categories were things I knew (Leibniz, SI units and measures, stats, clouds, etc.) and I smoked him. That was a great dream.

So yeah.