More Dreams
It appears as though the hat-season part of the winter is over. The only hats I saw while waiting on the subway platform were one baseball hat, and one jazz hat (worn by a high school student with a mechanical pencil shoved into the bill and hanging down the side of his face. I sat down on the train across from a particularly weathered woman in her thirties wearing a fleece hat gone dingy from a winter of wear. She set her two travel mugs full of light coffee down on the train floor between her leather Keds and resumed her reading. She was midway through Dark Sister: A Survivor's Love Story.
On the ride to work I was remembering the dreams I had last night. There was one in which I spent the majority of the dream running up and down cases of stairs and getting onto the wrong elevator. I woke up from the dream exhausted and fell back into another dream. This time it was about taking Jonathan on a date. Jonathan, as you would have no way of knowing, is the younger brother of my good friend in Junior High, Gabrielle. The last time I saw Jonathan he was a heavily freckled red-haired cutie pie who still hadn't hit puberty. My subconcious mind allowed him to age a little bit, but he still wasn't legal, and is that my Dad driving me to Jonathan's house to pick him up? I think all of the twenty-somethings dating seventeen year-olds should definitely bring along a parental escort.
Long story short, our dream-date was hardly a success. We went to a little party and the sponge in the sink was covered with dirt and hair. Jonathan turned into a small rag and I had to bend way down to hear his little rag-voice tell me he didn't want me to take him home, he wanted us to rent porno. Around the time he was crying because I was letting him down easy my alarm clock interrupted my dream date.
Good Morning.
It appears as though the hat-season part of the winter is over. The only hats I saw while waiting on the subway platform were one baseball hat, and one jazz hat (worn by a high school student with a mechanical pencil shoved into the bill and hanging down the side of his face. I sat down on the train across from a particularly weathered woman in her thirties wearing a fleece hat gone dingy from a winter of wear. She set her two travel mugs full of light coffee down on the train floor between her leather Keds and resumed her reading. She was midway through Dark Sister: A Survivor's Love Story.
On the ride to work I was remembering the dreams I had last night. There was one in which I spent the majority of the dream running up and down cases of stairs and getting onto the wrong elevator. I woke up from the dream exhausted and fell back into another dream. This time it was about taking Jonathan on a date. Jonathan, as you would have no way of knowing, is the younger brother of my good friend in Junior High, Gabrielle. The last time I saw Jonathan he was a heavily freckled red-haired cutie pie who still hadn't hit puberty. My subconcious mind allowed him to age a little bit, but he still wasn't legal, and is that my Dad driving me to Jonathan's house to pick him up? I think all of the twenty-somethings dating seventeen year-olds should definitely bring along a parental escort.
Long story short, our dream-date was hardly a success. We went to a little party and the sponge in the sink was covered with dirt and hair. Jonathan turned into a small rag and I had to bend way down to hear his little rag-voice tell me he didn't want me to take him home, he wanted us to rent porno. Around the time he was crying because I was letting him down easy my alarm clock interrupted my dream date.
Good Morning.
Alana wrote this crap at
6:00 AM
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