11:22 a.m. - 2005-10-09
i say fools in love are zeroes
last night i dreamed that my roommate (we lived in some sort of sprawling complex in a wooded area) had decided to skip the country in a boat to escape the feds who were closing in on his cocaine operation. his name was sid vicious. after a lot of fumbling and last minute packing (we were dead set on getting started by 9:30) and ripping my computer open to grab my hard drive, and mustn't forget the camera bag and socks, etc, i leaped into the moving two-story pontoon boat from an elevated bank as sid went "yeah! yeah!"
the trip to mexico was itself fairly uneventful, just floating down a creek through the woods under a major urban-seeming bridge and wearing casual clothing and looking like we were working on our tans. we passed several peasant folk on huckleberry finn type rafts before our first major hurdle, some sort of highly addictive RPG type game. we managed to escape this, i'm not sure how, and then got tangled up in a worse fix when a giant crab or slug or clam (clam, it was a clam) overturned our boat and we lost many of our possessions. THEN we got taken up by the mexican military. we were playing it cool but they ended up plugging us into another mind game/matrix type thing that revolved around people endlessly puking and bleeding all over the place. by this time we apparently had some companions because the main issue was getting THEM out of this fix. we finally did and settled down in some idyllic boaty spot of mexico, now apparently with my parents. there was a lot of stuff in here that i don't remember, i guess hanging around the boat arguing about what to do. next thing i know i am travelling back up the river to try and deal with sid who has gotten himself back into the addictive rpg...
i awoke chilled to the bone.
i dreamed again, of operating room service during a titanic hailstorm that also seemed to be the pivotal moment for a revolution in the streets for reasons i can no longer put into words. people kept calling for unreasonable things. jamie said to one on the phone: "a trash can?? for a twelve pack of beer?? not tonight. we don't have them to spare." roberto the line cook made me a pretty excellent sandwich to which i added some extra cheese - claire was grossed out by the cheese and roberto insisted on trying the sandwich, but only after i assured him that it was very hot.
in actual reality, last night i danced around on the concrete outside farm 255, the hippie dumb place that always has some kind of loud dancing thing going on. this was actually fun: even though i was in my gross and unflattering work clothes, i managed to get into the groove and feel fun and playful and not worry about looking cute despite being in the presence of greatness. now i need a shower horribly.
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