Cielo Rojo

I had some of the best sleep ever last night.
I can't remember any of last night's dreams but one:
I was walking in a forest, a snowy one... I think it was Yellowstone, since I had watched a Nature program right before going to bed which talked about the animals at Yellowstone (FYI- it acquired "National Park" status on March 1st, 1872. Yet another reason why my birthday is THE shit) and how they handle winter. Knowing this, let's just assume this forest in my dream was Yellowstone.
So, I'm walking, admiring the sights. It wasn't cold, but I could still see my breath in front of me. The sky was pink, the trees were black... the feel was very Tim-Burton-y, but not in a creepy way, if that makes any sense.
As I made my way through the forest, I saw a clearing. The closer I got to the clearing, the more I realized what it was: a skating rink.
Don't ask me how, but I somehow acquired skates and I proceeded to hit the ice. The rink was suddenly packed with strangers enjoying their time, and I kept minding my own business, trying out shit like pirouettes (which I have tried in real life and totally ate shit. I can handle getting from point A to point B in ice skates... as long as I don't try to get all fancy). For some reason, this made me happy. I was smiling the entire time, and time was going in slow-motion.
Once I had my fill, I walked out of the rink.
Just as I was going to head back in the direction of the forest, I become startled when I feel someone gently tug on my left arm.
It was Mr. Darcy (what is it with him always scaring the shit out of me in dreams in order to get my attention?).
This is where the dream goes mute.
I smile, he smiles. We quietly walk towards a hill overlooking the rink... and just sit there, taking turns to "smoke" as we breathe out and pretend we're holding a cigarette. When we get sick of that, I rest my head on his shoulder, and we continue to stare at the rink-- all under a pink sky.

Then Rafa walked into my room and tugged on my foot to wake me up... that asshole.
I can never enjoy a dream for too long without someone killing it for me. I can dream about getting abducted by aliens for what feels like an eternity, but when it comes to having pleasant dreams where I feel at peace, some jerkoff has to wake me up.

Anyway. Yes, Rafa's back home. When we were driving back home from the airport yesterday, the first words out of his mouth were:
So... any news? Anyone pregnant? Married? Dead?
:S
Sister and I made eye-contact through the rear-view mirror and I just shot her my DON'T! look.
I blurted:
Uncle is having surgery on Thursday. He has a tumor in his lung. Mom tell you that?
That was the first bit of news that came to mind besides ALO'S MARRIED!!

I'm still working on making him laugh for now.
After being so rudely woken up by him, I went out to the kitchen to have breakfast with him.
As I was preparing my cereal ('cause that's how I do. Fuck cooking in the morning!), Rafa started doing his usual, annoying thing where he asks me stupid questions.
He does this thing where he acts like a baby, asking really stupid questions in an even stupider voice (don't ask me why, he just does. He's weird).
Rafa: *NicknameIHATE* when's the last time you shot somebody?
Me: Uh... never.
Rafa: When's the last time you got twiiiisted?
Me: By the way, idiot, you do know what that means, right? I'm over here admitting to getting high and drunk all thanks to your dumb ass!
Rafa: No, that's "twisted," I say "twiiiiiisted."
Me: Same thing, retard.
Rafa: *NicknameIHATE* when's the last time you pooped your pants?
Me: Um, I think you're confusing me for YOU.

This made Rafa laugh... and we went on a stroll down Memory Lane.

Rafa: Fuckin' Carlos (our elementary school janitor). I still remember, and have nightmares about him closing the door on me right before I got in the bathroom and I was like "NOOOOO!" and he laughed... I should have screamed "I'M GONNA SHIT MY PANTS!"
Me: HAHAHA! See, around here, you're the only one who has ever shit his pants.
Rafa: Then in middle school I remember HATING to go to the bathrooms in Fremont because there was never any toilet paper. But this day... I think it was music class, I was sitting there and I just shot my arm up in the air and I was like "fuck it, I HAVE TO GO! NO, REALLY, I HAVE TO GO!" There was no escaping it, so I ran into the bathroom and I had no time to check if the stall I went into had toilet paper. I HAD TO GO.
Me: Gross.
Rafa: Once I was done, I noticed there wasn't any toilet paper...
Me: NO! So what the fuck did you do?!
Rafa: I used my hand! What else was I going to do?
(I began to gag on my cereal with the mental image)
Rafa: When I was done, I went to go wash my hand,
(I gag some more)
Rafa: AND THERE WASN'T ANY SOAP!
(By this time, I'm on my knees, on the floor, laughing so hard I'm crying... but at the same time I'm gagging, on the verge of puking out my cereal)
Rafa: I stood there violently scrubbing at my hand as I ran the water. I was SO lucky no one walked in on me at that moment. I had to practice walking into class like everything was cool.
Sister then chimed in with a story of one of her first-grade classmates who shit his pants as he sat in his chair. Sister was sitting next to him and became traumatized after she saw how the boy's back and chair got covered in shit.
(I narrowly escape vomiting this time)
Sister: Now we know what type of legislation you'll pass when you're president.
Rafa: I'll champion school reform where it will be mandatory for ALL schools to have an abundance of toilet paper, and to have working soap dispensers that will ALWAYS be filled. I'll call it, "The Flu-Men-See-Oh Bill" (name of Sister's unfortunate classmate).

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what my siblings and I talk about on a rainy Monday morning.
I had missed having a brother.