dreams: December 16, 1998



the tensions of a party

I'm throwing a (birthday?) party for myself at John's house. Guests are already arriving, hanging out in the living room. Roland and Nancy get here, and we have warm exchanges, hugging and talking. Ric Sayre walks into the house, and we do the same. Geoff, Phoebe, John and others are here too.

I'm trying to select the best music to play. I'm kneeling by a CD player (on the living room wall along the alley). CDs are splayed out all around me. I'm feeling a little flustered having to be the DJ. I open the disc player, which has room for 5 CDs, but it won't stop spinning around. It's broken. I have to physically stop it with my hands. Then I look out into the group and see that no one has anything to eat or drink. I feel guilty for being a bad hostess. I get up and go into the kitchen -- there is no food. I see a banana in the hanging basket, so Phoebe and I decide to put it in the oven for a roasted dessert treat. I feel like I should have planned things ahead of time to make a better party for my guests.

I'm in the kitchen when all of a sudden I feel like I'm walking in water. Water is gushing in the house from outside. We're being flooded! Soon the water is in the whole house, up past our knees. It's raining outside. It breaks up the party.

Phoebe and I take a flashlight and go walking through the woods together. We get to an open school building where a bunch of country hicks are sitting around learning metal welding or something. They're almost all men.

Then we are in an airport. I'm with John, Phoebe, and Troy. We're each taking flights to different places. There is a metal plate on the wall (of a restroom?) -- like a hot air hand dryer. I go over and wipe it clean. Then I take a pen and write "Carlos A." on it, as if it's a message someone will need to see.

back in Italy

NEXT, I'm back in Italy, walking around with my friends looking for a good non-touristy restaurant.

backstage at Hollywood Squares

NEXT, I'm backstage at a big TV show set. It's apparently the place to be these days. The ultimate hangout. It is for Hollywood Squares. I see the big wall of nine squares; it's like a drive-up movie screen, absolutely huge. I'm standing behind it. Lots of stars who I don't know or recognize are here. I see that the people who are actually on the show, sitting in the squares, are merely look-alike impersonators of the real stars. Doubles are walking around the set: lots of people who look just like each other, with identical hair and clothing.

I go into a bathroom. There is a plate of funny-colored cookies sitting out on the counter: greenish dark purple with raisins. I take one to eat. The girl who is with me also takes one. "Ew!" she says after one bit, throwing it back down. We go down to her favorite spot in the whole place, which is under a large concrete low roof. It's called "the garden." It's in front of the nine squares, as if the audience is sitting above us. I sit down with all our stuff (clothing, backpacks, etc.). My friend is wearing tights and a skirt, and has curly shoulder-length hair; she's short and a little pudgy. She's a celebrity, and her impersonator is on the show today (like many other days, since she's a regular). She needs to go get something, so I'm going to hold the spot. I'm the only one sitting down here. My cell phone rings. I answer it; another celeb friend is on the other end, and she's going to be here soon (blond short hair, petite). "How you doing, genius?" she asks. I remember hearing someone else call her genius earlier. It's a current slang word -- a term of endearment -- in this crowd.

John is here too. He's eating something weird. Forrest Schrodt walks up, but I avoid eye contact. I just don't feel like saying hi yet. He's with friends. They're down here in "the garden" for a fun game; it involves washing all the cars and trucks that are driving through as a post-show routine. Anyone who pays can blast them with HUGE streams of water, like a video game. I see a bunch of big trucks in a line under the concrete near the nine squares.

- FIN -



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