astronaut ambition

Dream #1

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Thu Apr 06 00 / 10:32 PM

I think I should start recording my dreams. Not as I have them, because although that would surely be a box-office sensation, the device doesn't yet exist that can do that for me. This pen and these pixels will have to do.

last night's dream:

Walking through an empty parking lot, I met up with one Jeremy Appleyard: the tall blonde boy from high school who was only as smart as his father's money. I had a passable relationship with him, though we never knew each other's middle names. I haven't seen him in at least four years, and the dream me and the dream him knew it, but were only mildly surprised. We went into the store that the parking lot belonged to: the Giant Tiger in Renfrew.

As we walked down the aisle, someone called my name. It was Nick Tsarouchas, another high school memory. He told me I looked sexier in the shirt I had been wearing earlier, which I remembered to be plaid, and I had to agree, but I only smiled at him.

Continuing browsing with Jeremy, I became aware of how truly dowdy my current clothing was in comparison with what Nick had seen me in earlier. I was wearing dark blue jeans, a white T-shirt, my Doc Martens, and a denim headband that was frustrating both me and my hair. To take the attention of these awful clothes, I laid down on the store floor and chatted with Jeremy.

Jeremy, however, was busy looking at clothes. He found a fabulous bubblegum pink tutu and matching cape with a big black fur hood. He was just sticking his first leg into the tutu to try it on when the dream screen winked out.

What's going on here? I went back to my old hometown, met old acquaintances, and walked down the aisle with Jeremy Appleyard while one of us wore a fancy dress. No, that's too literal, herr dokter. I met an old friend yesterday (Macphisto, who hasn't lost his ooky), and we reminisced while he checked out my library books. Nostalgia, surely.

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Lisa Higgs

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*Dream #1*
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latest archive about email links yearbook japan photoblog wish list	Thu Apr 06 00 / 10:32 PM I think I should start recording my dreams. Not as I have them, because although that would surely be a box-office sensation, the device doesn't yet exist that can do that for me. This pen and these pixels will have to do. last night's dream: Walking through an empty parking lot, I met up with one Jeremy Appleyard: the tall blonde boy from high school who was only as smart as his father's money. I had a passable relationship with him, though we never knew each other's middle names. I haven't seen him in at least four years, and the dream me and the dream him knew it, but were only mildly surprised. We went into the store that the parking lot belonged to: the Giant Tiger in Renfrew. As we walked down the aisle, someone called my name. It was Nick Tsarouchas, another high school memory. He told me I looked sexier in the shirt I had been wearing earlier, which I remembered to be plaid, and I had to agree, but I only smiled at him. Continuing browsing with Jeremy, I became aware of how truly dowdy my current clothing was in comparison with what Nick had seen me in earlier. I was wearing dark blue jeans, a white T-shirt, my Doc Martens, and a denim headband that was frustrating both me and my hair. To take the attention of these awful clothes, I laid down on the store floor and chatted with Jeremy. Jeremy, however, was busy looking at clothes. He found a fabulous bubblegum pink tutu and matching cape with a big black fur hood. He was just sticking his first leg into the tutu to try it on when the dream screen winked out. What's going on here? I went back to my old hometown, met old acquaintances, and walked down the aisle with Jeremy Appleyard while one of us wore a fancy dress. No, that's too literal, herr dokter. I met an old friend yesterday (Macphisto, who hasn't lost his ooky), and we reminisced while he checked out my library books. Nostalgia, surely.
	</>
Lisa Higgs
.