thursday dream

wandering around some huge downtown. offered a free meal, it's this huge media blitz, ads everywhere and staff with matching t shirts and smiles pushing paper to everyone on the street. but why not? we have to go through a series of "interactive challenges" to get to the food. for one, we enter a room where the door is blocked by an undulating human chain of smiley staffers. in order to pass you have to wriggle under arms or squeeze through an ever changing gap between two sections of bodies. it's not comfortable. it's meant to be "engaging" but it's just embarrassing.

there are not very many people here and the ones participating are all young & affluent. I try to imagine an actually needy/hungry person here and it seems impossible.

did we ever get the free food? I hope so, after all that.

I remember being in a long line and we were just a couple people behind your ex (who was actually Regina). you did not want her to spot us. her portion of the line got on an elevator and you made sure we weren't on it. what's so scary, I wonder?

we're in some sort of museum when i find my vibrator in my pocket and you find it quite amusing. of course you turn it on and embarrass me with the noise. it gets stuck and I have to unscrew the cap to make it stop.

we run into Marti from work, and her daughter, who want to sit down and chat. we are on a roof looking over onto a falls. there are stone circle table and stools at the corners of the roof, hanging out over the edge. I step carefully out from step to step, terrified of the drop. but Marti's young daughter barrels out and I realize there is a platform below the stone steps as well. of course there is, I think, they wouldn't want people sitting anywhere dangerous. we talk and when I turn around again I realize we aren't on a roof at all, but solid ground. perception

we are tagging along with some crowd, some friends maybe you ran into. I don't mind until I hear you making plans without me. it's not that I don't want to go swimming at twin oaks this afternoon, but that you commit without checking in. maybe this is just my pride, a clutching at still having sovereignty over myself. whatever it is I still want to go swimming.

lots more but I forget.