Amaryllis sillyramA

Last night I dreamed I was smoking a cigarette. I often dream of smoking but I never know that it is a dream, so I always feel guilty about it. Like I have ruined something. Like the not smoking for over four years is erased and I will have to start all over again because of one lapse.

So usually when I wake up from one of these dreams, I say to myself, “If I’m smoking, I’m dreaming. If I’m smoking, I’m dreaming.” To try to train myself to know I am dreaming next time. Partly because it would be nice to be able to enjoy the cigarette. (How ideal! Smoking without really smoking!) But also I would just like to train myself to be aware that I’m dreaming when I’m dreaming. And maybe then learn how to change the dream if need be.

So last night, in my dreams, I’m walking along a path in the back yard of the house where I grew up, and I’m smoking. And it dawns on me that if I’m smoking I’m dreaming! I know I’m dreaming! I say to the person with me — hey, this is a dream, what should we do? And the person doesn’t believe me. So I decide to show them that it really is, by flying. Then I don’t know what happened, can’t remember, but wow! It worked! Yay! Can’t wait to try it again.

The beautiful picture above was taken by a very talented individual named Justin Mclean. He has graciously made it available under one of the Creative Commons licenses. I’m not sure how to do a proper attribution, so please correct me if I’ve messed up in any way.

I dreamt I was walking with Captain Janeway in a dark place and she offered me a cigarette out of her pack of Exports. I had to tell her I don’t smoke anymore.

I dreamt of a kit. When I was done putting it together, it was a green chrysalis inside a cardboard tube. The tube was warm to the touch. There was something emerging from a crack in the chrysalis. It was snowy white. It looked like feathers. It came out, and it was a mouse and it ran to hide.

I dreamed I had a choice between an AK-47 and a high power rifle. I chose the rifle. Someone placed a target on a faraway tree. I aimed and fired, and hit the target. Felt a little like Ezri Dax, maybe. Then I felt bad about shooting the tree.

I dreamed that someone cleaned up my work area. The stacks of paper were gone, which was alarming. It was big and roomy. When I got to work it seemed a very small cubicle.

And I dreamed there were uninvited people sleeping in our house. And my hair was in these weird ponytails. And the bathroom was too crowded.

Then I got up. Whew!

Headed over to Aurora to get the emissions test done on my car. During part of the test, was privy to a conversation several of the attendants were having about smoking something without a gas mask and getting purple eyes. Passed emissions, and in a few minutes I’ll renew my tabs online. Neat!

On the way home, I was waiting for the light to change at a very busy intersection. There was a man slumped in a doorway near the corner. He had a fountain coming out of him. He looked kind of like a statue, he was so still (except for the fountain). But then the fountain stopped and he sat up.

Got home and caught an early bus. In the U district, stopped first at Rudy’s barbershop to get tickets for the upcoming mc chris show. I am so excited for this show, there is simply no way to express it accurately.

Next stopped at a store that just opened up in Pier 1’s old space. It has a suspicious name — American Apparel — but according to the website it’s sweat-shop free, so I thought I’d see if they have any good white button shirts. No luck. There were some cute bras but no underwires at all. There was a strapless velour top/shorts combo that shot me right back to 1979. There wasn’t anything I would wear. I suppose if I want a good white shirt I’ll have to look elsewhere.

Last night at the grocery store I remembered that I’ve been wanting to cook a big pot of beans. So I got some bulk pinto beans. Pinto beans are the best because they remind me of Mama, my Dad’s mother. She would have been 107 this year. She had a funny story involving pinto beans, according to one of her daughters, but I never heard the story. Maybe I’ll ask my Dad if he knows.

Later I dreamt about the beans. Someone had decided to cook them, but there wasn’t time enough. Luckily they didn’t use them all up.

I haven’t cooked the beans yet but I did finally do the beets last night. Suddenly I love beets, don’t know why, always was repulsed by them before. So I cooked some for the first time, and they turned out beautifully. Beautiful beets.

Then I saved the beautiful beet water and I’m dying a pair of white undies. I’d forgotten about them until just now. They’re still sitting in the beet water on the kitchen counter. They ought to be pretty darn pink by now.

I dreamt my sister and her girlfriend were splitting up because the girlfriend got Oprah pregnant.

Terrible.