Much of my childhood was spent watching Disney movies and falling asleep with my imaginary Prince Charming, who would come to rescue me from my life as a peasant and promise to return me to my royal glory in the morning. It was a dizzying fantasy but one that I've had a hard time shaking as a young adult.

When I got an invitation in the mail to become a member of the Art Institute, my initial reaction was, "You stupid ASPCA people! I donate once, and suddenly I'm on the mailing list of every charity, non-profit, or otherwise money-starved organization in the country! Bollocks!" (My Netflix queue is stuck on All Things British, which is having an interesting effect on my inner monologues.) But as I read on, I noticed something about an exclusive, members-only party in December, and I immediately started shopping for ugly stepsisters and verbally advanced mice on Craigslist. Cinderella was going to the ball.

Since then, I've acquired one gorgeous blue dress, one lovely pair of stockings, one stylish pair of black pumps, one beautiful golden clutch, and one fabulous black wool coat for the evening. I've tripped over thin air as I walk down the halls of my house and office, daydreaming constantly about the fabulous people I'll meet there and the wonderful jokes and insights we'll share over cocktails as we stand in front of timeless art and pretend to be able to in any way comprehend its complexities.

This is absolutely maddening for the logical part of my brain, which knows about the realities of social anxiety and my lifelong tendency to spill on my favorite clothing. However, the fuzzy, frilly, illogical side of my brain is in charge of this ship until the sunny weather returns — a safety mechanism which keeps me from flinging myself from a bridge in the middle of the doom and gloom of winter.

All of this started as a [long-winded] way of saying that I really appreciate the dreamers out there, the people with creative souls who think outside their reality and who use logic as a stepping stone to innovation instead of an anchor to weigh down free thoughts. So while I'm off frolicking in a dreamy, cookie-filled heaven in Tennessee this week, check out these fabulous writers who have inspired me to climb every mountain and all that jazz.

That Cup of Tea: Favorite entries include 33 Moments of Happiness, Setdressing, Chicago in Eight Meals, and Make Room. I've been aware of Zan's existence in the world for years via Sarah Brown, but I only started "quietly haunting" her blog a few weeks ago. I love it to pieces.

Distorte: Again, I've known of Pierce's blog for ages, and I've followed him on Tumblr for maybe the better part of two years or so. However, I just now started to read through the archives of the longer pieces he posts to distorte.com, and they make me feel simultaneously unworthy and honored to share internet space with him. Two entries to start you off: Pot and Untimely. (Note: a lot of these stories/essays are mostly fictional, or at least that's my understanding.)

Sadly, Zan lives in New York and Pierce in Ireland, so the odds of being able to hug or spill something festive on either of them at the Art Institute's holiday party are slim to none.

On Wednesday, my family will be shuffling off to Tennessee to celebrate Thanksgiving with my grandparents. I'm really looking forward to this opportunity to bond with my grandmother over Scrabble and shopping and back-to-back episodes of What Not to Wear. I also can't wait for my grandpa to dazzle me with some sort of mind-bending equation and to tell me how proud of me he is, no matter what I'm struggling with at the time. These people are precious to me, and I'm going to be too busy enjoying their company to care about blogging on a schedule.

That said, my lovely friend Tyler will most likely be the one hitting the "publish" button on whatever entries I manage to write up and queue on the 13-hour car ride through The Most Boring States in the Union. He doesn't know this yet, but I'm also blaming him for any typos that appear during that time. (Mua ha ha.)

Topics that are floating around in the recesses of my brain as potential topics:

• my history with female friendships and why I currently spend so much time alone
• the things I dream about doing once I move out and get a place of my own
• a list of my worst traits and habits
• my as-of-yet unwritten rules about how to properly use Twitter
• a video podcast with Juan Pedro and our sock monkey tea set
• an apology to the boys of the world for all crimes committed against them
• something about bacon

I'm not the type of person who gets thirty emails a day from people wanting to know more about my life, but if you, the fine people of the internet, have anything you've ever wanted to know about me or my friends or my cat or whatever, feel free to leave a request in the comments. Alternatively, tell me what your plans are for Thanksgiving, and I'll tell you why you'd be better off visiting my grandparents.

They both love to travel, and guessing where they'll be next is always great fun. So stick Carmen Sandiego in the TARDIS as the Doctor's newest companion, and voila! Best-selling video game: Where in Time and Space is Carmen Sandiego? Armed only with a sonic screwdriver and your own knowledge of history and the universe (and Doctor Who trivia, perhaps?), unlock clues to follow the trail left behind by this daring duo!

Shut up. It sounded like an awesome idea when I was in the shower this morning.