dreamsI had two dreams last night (that I actually remember). I don't usually remember dreams much. I figure I should write them down. The first involved a bunch of other stuff I don't remember, but ended in me finding a silver coin from the 1700s in a park or something, which was cool, but it expanded out into a PDA/phone/gameboy thing. It then opened up to have a keyboard and then harddrives and standard memory slots, which was awesome. But I felt bad and decided to hand it into a lost and found somewhere. It wouldn't be fair to keep it. The second one was a weird Home Alone/Die Hard thing at my parents' house. I exchanged witty banter with my captors and used a plastic pencil sharpener to fashion wooden kebab skewers into weapons (which, come to think of it, already have points. These were a lot sturdier than normal kebab skewers anyhow). Yippy kay yay, mother fucker. Before I could impale anyone, though, I managed to find an escape route out a bathroom my parents don't have and was able to set off some sort of alarm. It sounded a lot like my alarm clock, really. I remembered what happened at the beginning of the first dream. I wandered onto the set of some crappy CTV late night talk show in Kitchener. It was tiny with three rows of folding chairs for the audience and the walls were painted a horrible gloss black and pink. The audience appeared and the show started as I was checking stuff out backstage. They called me out and I sat down on the ratty old couch beside the host's desk. The thing had a very Mike Bullard feel about it, except the host looked a lot like Jon-o. He asked me how I was and I went "Oh, okay I guess." Awkward silence. I'm thinking "Ha ha, serves you right for having me as a guest." I kind of shrugged and walked off. Some time passes and I wander into some sort of informal luncheon/dinner thing back at the studio. It's got those folding banquet house tables with plastic table cloths. I sit down opposite Jon-o and beside some guy and his wife. I'm talking to Jon-o and I'm positively effervescent, while the woman beside me is babbling on about some nonsense, and I'm being polite and nodding along. All this stuff ends up being on TV, and I'm quite pleased with myself, so I go off to find somebody who I can tell I was on that crappy talk show twice in one day. I find Carrie (my housemate from second year), I think, in Victoria park and that's when I find the coin/gameboy/phone/PDA. The end. comments:This post is archived. Comments are disabled. Feel free to send me email if you have something to say. | |
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