Ah, traitorous mind!
The mix of weird and stressful and just plain bad has an interesting effect on my twisted subconscious. I've never been prone to normal dreams, not even the stereotypical "Oh my God I am naked at a work meeting" sort. In my dreams, godly powers are a norm, bizarre settings are routine, and meeting the great and low alike a common event. Watching and reading too much definitely contribute to the technicolor drama of my dreams.
Last night proved a singular example of the above. I spent nearly ten hours yesterday in meetings and teaching seminars, and came home utterly exhausted. When I got home, I found the BF there, who informed me that he had lost his job yesterday afternoon. So, between that loss and me losing nearly one-half my income, we are down by four fifths at the moment.
Da iawn, wir! (I lapse into Welsh when stressed). Anyhoo ...
Last night I took a long subway ride with Debbie Harry, who I must say was looking thin, young and fabulous. For some reason, it was on the Boston subway, running on the route to Braintree. Don't ask me why. We were having a wonderful conversation about her upcoming new album when Jude Law came stumbling by, drunk off his ass, with his penis hanging out the fly of his trousers. Now, I do not find Jude Law attractive as a rule - he is too pretty-boy for my tastes. But I will say Mr. Law has one fine penis, and it was swinging in my and Debbie's face as he stumbled around the subway car. Debbie and I laughed about this, trying to decide if we should let Jude know his penis was flopping loose. Finally I pointed it out to him, and he said "Yes, I know, but I really need to find a bathroom and don't have time to unzip later!"
Whereupon he stepped between cars and began to urinate.
Interestingly, shortly after that I simply said goodbye to both of them and got off the subway.
I wonder what each of them dreamed last night? Did either of them dream of a conversation with some strange zhlub they had never met before?
Last night proved a singular example of the above. I spent nearly ten hours yesterday in meetings and teaching seminars, and came home utterly exhausted. When I got home, I found the BF there, who informed me that he had lost his job yesterday afternoon. So, between that loss and me losing nearly one-half my income, we are down by four fifths at the moment.
Da iawn, wir! (I lapse into Welsh when stressed). Anyhoo ...
Last night I took a long subway ride with Debbie Harry, who I must say was looking thin, young and fabulous. For some reason, it was on the Boston subway, running on the route to Braintree. Don't ask me why. We were having a wonderful conversation about her upcoming new album when Jude Law came stumbling by, drunk off his ass, with his penis hanging out the fly of his trousers. Now, I do not find Jude Law attractive as a rule - he is too pretty-boy for my tastes. But I will say Mr. Law has one fine penis, and it was swinging in my and Debbie's face as he stumbled around the subway car. Debbie and I laughed about this, trying to decide if we should let Jude know his penis was flopping loose. Finally I pointed it out to him, and he said "Yes, I know, but I really need to find a bathroom and don't have time to unzip later!"
Whereupon he stepped between cars and began to urinate.
Interestingly, shortly after that I simply said goodbye to both of them and got off the subway.
I wonder what each of them dreamed last night? Did either of them dream of a conversation with some strange zhlub they had never met before?