Something weird is going on with me and crustaceans.
Something visceral. Yesterday I was convinced that my bathroom smelled like freshly-shucked oysters, and last night I had several bizarre dreams about crabs.

First, I dreamt that one of my close friends had genital crabs and was kind of peeved, but not really all that upset by it. Then I dreamed that I was walking through an alternative version of the Eaton Centre, where the Indigo books had been replaced by a huge French-language comic book store, named “Cecil” or some other 5-letter name.

While I was looking up at their huge yellow globe-shaped insignia, my now ex-roomie Mari walked by me and said hello. She had a 7-month pregnant belly and she was all happy and smiling. But then suddenly we were in an obstetrician’s office together, and the doctor and I were trying to figure out what was going on with her stomach because there was the outline of a large crab straining against it, shells and claws and all.
Totally David Lynch-styles.

Interpretations:
Is Mari going to become with child sometime between June 22-July 22 (the zodiac sign of Cancer is the crab)? Or deliver a baby in that time slot next year?

Theories:
1) Watching too much Twin Peaks on DVD; Lynch is affecting my mental state. Next it will be midgets.
1) Watching too much Futurama on DVD. Doctor Zoidberg is infesting my headspace.
2) Alyssa & Rob’s wedding menu includes lobster-stuffed chicken.
3) Babies on the brain – Justin’s cousin brought the family crib to our home yesterday for “storage”.
4) Have been hanging out with my Mum (whose astrological sign is Cancer) a lot lately.