so......

in the dream I wish I had last night, Jeff Curnes was a noble Pirate King swashbuckling across the Caribbean.

In other related news, Martha and Kevin just gave birth to Ruby Lucia Enson Joyce.

Ed, meet George. George, Ed.

Now go play in trafic

Bad Karma, it's not just for Ashcroft anymore.

(PS: The Sgt. wrote a piece about the trivialization of ethos that I am about to serve up. He's right of course, but I was too busy body painting one of Seattle's finest and prettiest actors blue, and another one gold to notice the deeper meaning.)

Sven is to be incurring Karmic Debt.

Who wants Milkshakes?
I'm buying.

Not your Father's El Centro

A Series of Dream-lets from Monday morning.

I was in a line to see a Rolling Stones Concert in what appeared to be El Centro, California. Only the show was at Sun Devil Stadium. I'm not sure if I was there to work or spectate, or both. but anticipation was in the air.

For those who don't know el-centro. it's a dusty desert town east of San Diego along I-8.

There were palm trees in my dream. I miss palm trees. I also miss Rock and Roll (in the working paradigm).

Somehow, as we were entering the stadium, the show became Peter Gabriel @ Key Arena. yummy. In this, I was most surely a spectator.

and then somehow the whole thing became a scary dream.

I'm in my bedroom at my parents house. Mine was the front bedroom, with easy access to the front yard and the street. It's late at night, and I'm convinced that there are bad people outside. Possibly pulling guns out of the trunks of their cars and about to storm our house.

(Oh yeah, Jeff Curnes was there, and he was really cute, and wearing a white Purser's uniform, and he held my hand and said wonderful and inspring things to me)

Then my sister came into the room, and tried to turn on this lights and yell or say something silly. I had to tackle her and scream-whisper in her ear about how they were going to kill us if she did not stop making so much noise.

And then I woke up. and it was 5 AM. I did not get back to sleep until 8:30. What I should have done is gotten up and gone to the gym.


oh well.

I'm Sven. I just woke up, and this is my dream.

I did everything in my power to miss a VERY (if only symbolic) flight.

going from an un-recognized left coast airport to Philly on Alaska. I had:

An incorrect ticket.
Too many Bags. Sverval of which were essentially empty. one of which was a large cooler filled with mostly melted ice and a few half consumed plastic beverage bottles.
Mucho Crap in my pockets
A befuddled but charming attitude.

So I get to the gate with plenty of time. Jeff Curnes is apparently along to help, but he's staying, not flying. I (almost) Deal with the bags and ticket mix up, and go wander the terminal.

Then they are boarding the flight, so I decide that I need drinks and snax (chocolate of course) from the vending machines. John DeShazo was there to help me with my vending purchase.

I realize that I really don't want to carry the cooler on the plane, so I decided to tip it up against a brick wall, and write jeff's name on it with the black sharpie thats in my bag in the hopes that he'll see it and bring it back.

Of course I decide to do this AFTER I'm supposed to board. I've also decided to wait until everyone else is on the plane before I move and write on the cooler.

They close the doors, all the while I screaming WAIT FOR ME!!!!!!... and I'm running down the ramp screaming WAIT! and NO!...

Though it seemed like the ground crew might try and work a miracle, I do not get on the flight by the time I wake up
I wake up screaming NO!!!!!!!!!.


Whew.