I had this horrifying dream. I dreamed the reunion was not in a bowling alley, as planned. Somehow, it migrated to an Asian massage parlor and bath house.
Everyone else was laughing and vanishing up the stairs into some sort of Asian fog of mysterious sexiness. I was running around like I was mental trying to tell everyone that this wasn't the bowling alley and we needed to run away! But no one would listen!
Then I saw Winston, standing in a stairwell, deep in conversation with a taller, thinner version of myself. (This bitch is constantly in my dreams.)
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| And her hair is never frizzy. Damn it. |
I kept trying to get him to look at me but he kept laughing at me. Probably because I was jumping up and down and chirping at him like a tiny hairy hobbit. This is a frequent element of my dreams. Women who are better looking than me and lots of humiliation.
Did you see that date? Frequent. And as you can see by his response, frequent enough not to merit a conversation.
The dream ended with me hiding and sobbing under Dr. Who's (David Tennant, of course) ankle length duster on the floor in the dimly lit foyer of the massage parlor, fumbling with a lighter and trying to smoke a crushed cigarette. Sadly, David Tennant was not under the coat with me....
Damn it. I can't even dream properly. A proper dream would have me making out with Dr. Who under the coat.
When I peeked out from under the duster after sobbing and trying in vain to smoke for a while, I realized I was no longer in the massage parlor, but was now in a tiny birdhouse up a tree in a shanty town by the railroad tracks.
I am sure there's some symbolism in there somewhere. If I show up at the reunion and I see even one Asian whore, I am leaving.
~dana
