Curiosities.

Things happen.

For reasons I'm not always sure of.

Today was a day of this.

For starters, a freak thunderstorm in the middle of January, one of hail-producing capability. Of course, the meteorology junkie in me completely devoured this, but the intellectual side of me questioned it. With a thunderstorm "season" of late March through late August... a January storm... I can't remember the last time it's ever happened. It provoked a strange excitement.

Next, I find out my little sister has started smoking. I'm not angry nor frustrated with her, as I believe in the policy "to each their own." But it makes me sad, confused, and a bit disturbed. Growing up, I was the wild child who was always getting into trouble, and Shelby was the living example of an angel -- a mean look in her direction made her cry. So how is it that so many years later, I'm the one who hasn't picked up smoking, or any of that? Albeit I'm guilty of stupid things -- unprotected sex and an addiction to sleeping pills, both of which I no longer indulge in... I just... I wonder.

She says she's depressed. Should I be more attentive? No, I should have been. I just wonder for how long.

Third, I've begun to have a very strange "condition." I call it the "sleepy shudders," as I've no better term for it. Lately, I'll get waves of shudders/spasms that run through my body -- they're no different than a normal shudder, until my eyes roll back in my head and my body grows limp. I tend to make a noise to "rouse" myself before anything happens, but ten minutes later, I have another. It's as if I'm attempting to faint or black out involuntarily. I can't remember ever having this condition before... it's intriguing but a bit scary. I don't know what to make of it.

Finally, I'm realizing I'm having another series of "repeating dreams." The new motif is not of the 22-story house like it used to be. The 22-story house dream turned into a huge message. The house itself was my body, with the attic being my logic, intellect, and good traits; the basement was my sorrows, fears, morbid natures, and bad traits. (The house ALWAYS looked the same. Nothing ever moved, and I had this dream over the span of several months.) In my dreams, I'd find myself often running through the basements, running from somebody, looking to hide. I could never figure out why I ran through the basements, as they always scared me...

That dream was a huge message, telling me to re-evaluate what I was focusing on in my life. When I learned the message and took its advice, the dream disappeared. I've not had it since.

Now I'm beginning to have repeating dreams about schools. Primarily my old high school, Northgate. All kinds of things are occurring in these dreams -- wandering the halls idly; nightmarish adventures of being chased or attacked; roaming the hall looking for the ghost of the campus (the school was built over a cemetery from the Civil War era). But primarily in these dreams, I'm visiting the front office, getting my schedule changed, or looking for it as they have misplaced it.

Last night I had a dream about a school. But it was different. Instead of being at Northgate, the campus resembled Madras, my second middle school (I changed schools in the middle of seventh grade due to Mama moving out of town and having custody of Shelby and I). However, it was my old elementary school. I was having a frantic search looking for my fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Moses, who thought the world of me. I found her in the exact same spot in the hall her class was located back when I actually attended school, and there she was, teaching math to a group of kids.

I sat through the course of the day, just observing and watching the children. She gave them a test, and graded it and handed it back in the same day -- something I can't remember her ever doing. The final bell rang for the day and dismissed the students, and I exited last. I said to her, "Nice to see you again."

She replied, "So my name is Mrs. Train now..."

...I woke up. I have no idea what's the deal with my latest episode of repeating dreams, and all I can do is pick apart at them until something comes of it.

Mrs. Train. Why did I need to know that? Something about that sticks out so much in my mind.

I'm the only person I know who is so obsessed with picking apart dreams for messages. I like picking apart other people's dreams, too, because sometimes I see the messages in them that they don't. Then again, I'm not sure if anybody besides me has visions or repeating dreams.

Nor do people seem as open as I.

I would love to have somebody lay out a lot of information about themselves, or weird dreams they've had, or weird things about them... and I would love to be able to analyze it, pick it apart, and tell them what I know.

I'm obsessed with analyzing things and learning about them.

Things happen sometimes for reasons I don't know.

And I'm the curious sort of person who wants to try and find out why.