Dream - Vomit, Muppets, Jonathan

I realize I am late for a performance or show in Berkeley that I normally attend. I leave the house with my Clipper card and cross the street. At this point, standing in the BART plaza I know there is realistically not enough time and return home across the street.
As I open the street door, I encounter some sticky vomit on the lower entry stairs and the guys that live downstairs are coming to clean it up. One new ambitious magical slightly balding, bozo-haired roommate is offering to put down some white rug netting to alleviate any further problems. We all discuss the viability of the solution and realize it will not wear well and only get dirtier with use. His girlfriend and I go into the boy's room and discover its sparse furnishings and the origin of the netted mat from an old suitcase in a small closet.
There is a gathering of comics in a familiar corridor (downstairs?) I walk down the long hallway, squeezing through as I encounter throngs of local comedians. The one that I look forward to seeing is John Riggi,  I see him at the end of the hallway approaching and am thrilled and expectant at our soon-to-be reunion, but as we get closer it's apparent he will continue walking and only nods  acknowledgment as if I am just a passing acquaintance not worthy of a longer conversation. His dismissive acknowledgement astounds and befuddles me and as he walks further down the hallway away from me I call out to him "Really Riggi?," He turns around still uncomprehending how important he was to me and turns away. I am crestfallen and proceed sadly and resigned down the hallway where I next encounter Jonathan Winters. He is being shepherded/handled by Lorne Michaels, who disappears to schmooze elsewhere. We are both  waylaid by a television with a YouTube playlist of Muppet highlights, specifically small inchworms that are singing and wiggling in unison. We are laughing and enjoying the sequence of highlights of there well known and infamous career. As it comes to a close the conversation turns toward Robin. I compassionately express 'what a loss that must've been for him'. His face darkens and he starts to reminisce with some solemnness, obviously brokenhearted and missing his old friend. The insights he offers are hushed and I can barely make them out as he remembers what a genius his colleague was. He also voices some personal knowingness into Robin's character and reasons for his demise, possibly matching his own considerations for such an end. I am aware that despite the vividness of the conversation and trust Jonathan is showing me, he actually preceded Robin in death.

Dream - Play Disruption

A small segment remembered. Verla and I are in NY for a Broadway play. We're both excited and talking animatedly before the show starts and we find our front row seats. Our view seems to be obstructed as we are sitting very close to stage right. A large box structure gives us a sliver of a view. We are commenting and concerned as the curtain rises. I cut myself off mid sentence, but Verla seems to want to prattle on. She seems naive to the etiquette and respect of hushing the fuck up when the curtains rise. I give her a couple of arm touches and a disciplinary look to signal. The box is moved offstage and our seats have become great and wonderful for the vantage point. She can't help but continue to comment. Jonathan Groff is the star and begins. A house manager, voice comes over the loudspeaker, announcing someone is making a racket down front and the play must be interrupted to deal with the interruption. On cue, Groff singles out Verla and brings her up onstage to make an example of her, proceeds to humiliate her and use it as a teachable moment for the audience. Verla is quite oblivious to her faux pas and is enjoying the full spotlight of being part of the show. I am embarrassed and amused and during the intermission, I retreat to the back of the theatre to touch base with an acquaintance and gauge just how bad the incident was. There seem to be no repercussions although I feel the need to apologize to someone, while subtly disassociating myself from the clueless Verla. She will tell the story in full gory detail with her center stage antics as the gist of the tale.

Dream - White House

I am with a large group of people playing a sophisticated survival game, possibly televised . Our task of several different groups is to survive challenges in the White House. We have access to almost every room depending on the challenge. My group talk of strategy and have a scarf talisman to identify us to each other. Early on after the first successful challenge is completed to continue in the game, I am traded/separated from my original group. As my cohorts leave me, I join a new group who are doing food tasks. We are seated at large dining tables and must choose foods to consume as we wander among staffers. After having a great meal, we are left to choose a desert. I choose a tall ice cream cone of my own making. I must juggle the assemblage by putting my pinkie in the bottom of the cone and flip it right side up in a ball and cup manner to add the final topping. There is an eagle? component that endangers it from getting snatched. Surprisingly, I do this twice successfully, seeming to have an aptitude, which is congratulated by Barack as he sits and and nods approval while casually talking to another head of state on the phone.  Several other team members join me in looking out a picture window that reveals Alaska/Hawaii where a person walks by as Barack comments on the view and its splendor. There are also several raccoons that gambol thru this vista and a dock leading to a serene lake. I decide to wander/explore into a hallway where a large art is displayed. I ask permission to do this and am OK'd by WH handlers. I encounter other team members with their various foods. I start to peruse the art, down the hallway. Some is classical, but many are large format color political cartoons, left over from other presidencies. I stop to identify a large eared George. Bush cartoon- he's in a speeding out of controller car careening off an overpass. I am aware I should be careful not to spill my cone in this great carpeted hallway, and am warned by a housekeeper as she leaves for her day. There is a general hubbub and I join others of my team in another room to play an odd pinball machine with golf balls that overflow the supply slot after I win. Barack is there again being briefed by staffers and looking out a window and has the time to notice my accomplishment. I do this all while continuing to juggle the ice cream cone. I pick up some of the golf balls to clean up the overflow as Barack wanders by again in what is obviously the Oval Office. He jokes with staff in what seems like a very convivial atmosphere. My team is assembling again to begin a new task.

Dream - Pig Roommates

I am sitting in front room rocking chair talking to Tina. She heralds the arrival of a small baby pig into the room as others come up the stairs. It is not only a Francisco-like tall man roommate, but his young short blonde girlfriend. She is moving in unexpectedly and my first reaction is horror and dread. I am not able to hide my reaction from her, even as she is placing a check for $40 on the desk as her half of the rent with her tall boyfriend. He is not visible yet, has not warned me of this change in the living arrangement or even asked. The young girl is some sort of desperate straits, and is relieved and not wavering from the inevitability of moving in. This is a done deal as far as she is concerned and may be saving her own life from the previous arrangement she is fleeing. The little pig is running around, perhaps playing with other small dogs in residence, in a very happy frolicking way. I begin to see the writing on the wall and apologize for my initial reaction. There are hugs and general making nice. She is a sweetheart and I start to make mental adjustments to my new living situation, even asking if she is working during the day. She replies with an "I wish" negative. I have to answer the door several times and knock collected papers to the floor at the bottom of the stairs. I have to pick them up again and again, re-stacking them in their wire basket cubbys attached to the wall. Inconvenient and obviously inefficient. Chris Frieber comes upstairs or is on the street with conversation as one visitor. He also shows me a picture book(?) of old weathered French doors of great architectural splendor.

Dream - Biking Guide

I have left a dream-forgotten situation in the Richmond and am on a standard bicycle wending my way through a series of right-angle wooden covered tunnels as an approach to the GG Bridge.  I encounter and avoid oncoming tourists who may or may not be on the right path, as it is narrow and does not seem to be designed for this double passage. I am not traveling at top speed so this is more of a pleasant surprise when they pop up from around various corners. After what seems a long convoluted and Byzantine journey, I finally come out near the ramp to the Bridge. I must walk my bike and avoid a muddy patch of long grass that leads down to a path. Tourists from both directions are milling about and I give directions to a few who I overhear talking. I correct their confusion about the name of their location, but restrain from telling them the history of the buildings in the Presidio and the architectural timeline they portray.

I never really knew Robin Williams

Robin and me, Comedy Day, San Francisco c.1984
Photo Credit: Sue Murphy

Everyone that survived the 80's comedy boom in San Francisco has at least one story that includes Robin as the main attraction. We all wanted to share the stage with one of the best and brightest, hoping to up our own personal game or just bathe in the same spotlight while hoping a little of the fairy dust rubbed off on our otherwise meager talents. As is the nature of ego, others may have hoped to hold their own with his rapid-fire brilliance, or even best the genius of his rolodex mind. I often witnessed the self-satisfaction of lesser talents basking in landing a personal bon mot in front of his adoring audience. The crown jewel of achievement was catching him off guard and actually hearing his surprised chortle of amused recognition of your bit of funny. I often thought his gracious appraisal was at once congratulatory and encouragement to fly further with him to the rarefied air of his orbit. Few did; all tried.

Certainly a recounting of that moment was shared and re-shared in pissing contests with others lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time, a battle of "Oh yeah, well once he joined me after my set and..." those encounters became legend in each of our minds and were told as proof that the possession of genius was ripe for the picking, and not the sole proprietorship of one freakishly talented individual. Those treasured moments were likely looped in memory to revisit the thrill, perhaps elaborated and enhanced, and likely called in to service as self-soothing on nights when the gig was less than stellar, singular and truly lonely on similar stages with hacks and wannabes. Our minds, when left to our own devices, yearn to be special, unique and above the pedestrian. The brutally honest part of a performer's brain, or maybe the built-in insecurity and doubt, knows better. That moment was certainly hard evidence of our untapped abilities and the destiny of greatness in the pursuit of stardom; the type of stardom that Robin was scouting ahead and dancing with before our eyes. It seemed wonderful and magical and within our grasp, at least in that glimpse of a moment. At least, at that time within San Francisco's comedy enclave.

One of his kindest contributions was graciously sharing and collaborating, even as his circle was widening beyond the hothouse environment of SF. He allowed us a peek behind the grander curtain, what it was actually like... each bringing our own hopes and dreams of belonging and being included in the exclusive club. I suspect that he also loved to play and required playmates who understood the shorthand and lingo. Maybe just a stretch to keep the comedy muscle tuned and limber, but he was likely seeking the joy of collaboration or making something out of nothing, disengaging the calculating brain and leaving the imagination to its own devices. Nothing is better than being surprised by your own mind and the wonders below the surface waiting to be tapped and un-trapped. It has its own addictive qualities, to recreate that high of the high-wire, to be blameless and shameless for a shortcoming, failure or transgression and move on through the glorious pell-mell of creativity unleashed.

For many he was the reason that comedy as a vocation became a way of life. I watched him burst forth from my small TV on a local comedy show filmed at the Great American Music Hall, on a bill with other rising stars in the comedy scene. He smoked every one of them; that’s not to say they weren't entertaining and garnered laughs, but Robin erased their triumphs with a new kind of authenticity. No one was like him, as his methods were madness and otherworldly; almost foreign and incomprehensible to translate what was happening in real time in this new way of funny. He was the undeniable star of the evening and soon to be for his generation/the ages. I was left speechless, gasping and sputtering with incredulity and vaguely grokking my new aspiration, perhaps similar to mortals gazing on the gods when they deigned to appear before them. That night his talent soared from the stage through the audience and into the stratosphere, transmitted by way of a 13" television. My subsequent journey began to steep myself in countless improv workshops, learning the way of those before me to honor the ancient craft, then performing, and hanging out in comedy clubs for further research or as an insatiable sponge for all things funny. My fellow travelers were possessed with the same compulsive desire and the City's fertile ground nourished and sprouted all sorts and stripes of humor.

Robin stops by to play with Femprov at Cobb's Pub in the Marina
Terry Sand joins the trio in a Madrigal.
Photo Credit: Mark Pitta

Of course, my path crossed again with Robin. When he was in town as a respite from his burgeoning career, he also turned up in the small clubs we frequented to grab a bit of stage time. His presence was always met with a murmur of excitement and anticipation among the comics. We knew the night had already become special and we were about to become audience members held in his thrall. The scarcity of patrons in the club magically transformed into SRO. Somehow ‘word on the street’ spread like wildfire and a literal stampede engulfed the room. The subsequent roar of the crowd when he took the stage upped the ante and the energy became electric and immeasurable by standard comedy gauges of entertainment. Everyone sensed, no, knew, they were in the presence of a remarkable entity and it was now our job to witness this shooting-from-the-hip superstar.

Among the working comics, ambition and competition were temporarily put on hold... it was time to be entertained and schooled. Heads up, the Rosetta stone has taken the stage and we had yet another front row seat and chance to decipher the method to his hilarious madness. The clues had to be there, it was just a matter of paying close attention. Doing justice to these performances is feebly captured with mere words. Take yourself back to the first time he flabbergasted you; re-conjure that for yourself and attempt a description. Mind-blowing and boggling all at once, preternatural and spellbinding, and oh-so-very funny only begin to scratch the surface of that singular experience. I’m guessing you’re smiling, but words fail.

Afterwards and off stage, he was friendly and extremely gracious, even as he was inevitably accosted or ogled by a spent and grateful crowd grasping at the hem of his garments. After hours, backstage when the club closed to the public and the ballyhoo had died down, he was one of the gang, all of us still amped from performing or just watching him weave his stream of consciousness.

Was this a form of recharging and a touch of normal he welcomed from the juggernaut of his meteoric rise into the Show Biz firmament? I like to think we offered him a small remembrance of familiar things long since passed by (recently lost) in his life that had suddenly and deservedly leapfrogged over our earthly struggles. There was no turning back from his inevitable path now, but one often yearns for simpler times with mundane surprises. Who hasn't revisited their grade school or attended a HS reunion to take stock and gain perspective on a life's passage? He was shy, respectful and humble beyond the talents he obviously possessed... or maybe just observed our foibles while some were searching for any small acceptance in his eyes. Still, most welcomed his down to earth attitude, and the grace with which he tolerated our embryonic state, as an example and proof that fame and fortune did not necessarily have to expose the inner asshole we all harbor and hopefully keep at bay.

Linda Hill and I create a Robin sandwich, backstage at Cobb's

He gave, but boy did he get. I had a small taste of the thunder and lightning he absorbed from a crowd.

Traditionally, Comedy Day in Golden Gate Park was headlined with an appearance by Robin. He followed an amazing roster of local comics who were loved in their own right by an appreciative and knowledgeable comedy crowd gathered for an entire day of back-to-back 5 minute sets in broad daylight in a polo field full of funny-loving folks. In some years the numbers swelled to thousands. Not an easy room, especially for performers used to working small darkened clubs with intimate crowds, half in the bag, focused by a singular spotlight on a small stage. Few of us had arena experience, although it felt like rock star proportions when you took the sun-lit stage.

Obviously, the adoring masses had been hopeful they would be rewarded for their patience with a lengthy set by Robin. If he was in town, he did not disappoint. All kibitzing among the comics backstage came to a halt because it was time to watch him unfurl his brand of magic. The response to his introduction, standard by now, made us all realize the laughs we earned earlier were mere titters by contrast. He was their maestro, orchestrating their now-forgotten exhaustion into a frenzy of joy and laughter. It was mesmerizing to watch the puppet-mastery of it all on the faces of an audience reacting in perfect unison, just as Robin intended. You might think this hyperbole, but I assure you, no exaggeration is required.

When he could finally end his extended set, despite further protestations by the crowd, all comics would join him onstage en masse to take a final bow and thank the audience for being there. Honestly, we all wanted a piece of that goood stuff Robin had whipped up. All of us clambered onstage and I found myself near the front behind Robin. The roar of the crowd was crazy good for the soul and the greedy ego that fuels us all, enough for a lifetime. We were all soaking in this field of people on their feet, clapping, screaming and literally barking with approval. I noted my vantage point behind Robin was pretty special, as most of this adoration was rightfully focused toward him. His sight line was spectacular and this POV allowed me to imagine stepping into his performing shoes.

Comics traditionally returned to the stage to thank the audience…
and take one last bow after Robin's closing set on Comedy Day in the Park (1984).

Knowing when to leave the stage is just as important, so you 'leave 'em wanting more' or, realistically, don't wear out your welcome and the goodwill of those applauding. Expertly, Robin took the initiative; he turned around and reflexively hugged the first person in the sea of comics. It happened to be me. Robin was a hugger, so this did not seem out of the ordinary from the regular hugs received over the years. What I wasn't prepared for was the combined energy from performing and the subsequent received love from his crowd. The hug transferred all of it to me in that embrace. Yikes, like nothing I have felt since. Electric and visceral in impact. A sonic boom of quantum force. It would have knocked me on my ass if he had let go. When he did, he met my shocked look with a knowing gaze, as if to say, "That's what the real stuff feels like every time." I had my share of loving and thrilled audiences and the occasional standing O, but I was never able to replicate or receive that feeling on my own. It was an unexpected gift and a sudden realization of how unique Robin's experience must have been.

Though I flatter myself as part of the 80’s comedy inner circle, San Francisco’s up and comers witnessing and cheering on a comrade’s launch from our ranks to the highest of heights, I have no legitimate claim to really knowing Robin. His recent passing and our cumulative clumsy attempts to make sense of how someone who meant so much to so many could exit a world of such adoration is obviously beyond our ken. Abandoning all that… and us, calls into question our own capacity for handling all the varieties of love he received. We flounder in our own shallow and vapid imaginations about the perceived perks of his life…or the incomprehensible and attendant pitfalls.

Perhaps he had sated the adoration-seeking aspect of a performer’s life long ago; maybe that was never his concern. I cannot fathom the depths of his clinical lows or the heights of the joys he experienced, consistently touching countless souls of several generations along the way, each and every one believing, for that moment, he was our closest compatriot in this folly of existence.

By happenstance, I had a sliver of insight into his world one sunny afternoon 30 years ago. Despite this minimal proximity to a kind and generous man, I am comforted by the certainty that he wasted little time in fully living an extraordinary life. Good speed, Robin.

Dream - Encouragement

I am in school and working on a story, perhaps illustrated, perhaps being hammered out in storyboard form. The pages are laid out on the floor of my bedroom. The book is colorful and may be in watercolor. Barbara Scott is a fellow student and Robin is there in the capacity of teacher. We are looking at the pages and pondering what is not there yet and needs to be filled in where there are missing pages of these brainstorming doodles. There is some discussion and encouragement from both. Robin is also mindful and expectant of an approaching deadline. I am on the stairway finding places for some colorful books to be wedged into niches of the back of the door. Later or the next day, we are now downstairs and the book is laid out on a table. Robin comes to check on my progress that is no further along, though he reads a later chapter and is optimistic about its content. I have other studies and classes that need attending and tended to. I now must take a station wagon across the bay and leave on my trip. On my way I pull over to rest or attend to something on a country back road, and do so in a covered roadside gas station, likely abandoned. When I pull out to continue my journey, I pass Hispanic women crossing this pastoral road, with large sparse trays of cupcakes, the others having been delivered to a school on the right. The frosting is colorful for celebrating a holiday. I imagine their homemade goodness.

Note: Robin Williams committed suicide yesterday - August 11

Dream - House Police

Details of how we got into a large showroom are gone upon waking…although I have flashes of initial dream's location orientation. We are seated stage left near the front of a comic-con type gathering. Before the show starts, we are called away to answer questions, tour and inspect a house across the street with some urgency. Supposedly we have some knowledge of the home (it may be mine or had been). Police are involved, because when we return I look back through the auditorium's entrance portal to see them on balconies and roofs combing the slope-roofed brick abode. I implore Teresa? to witness the goings on behind and over our shoulder, as it appears Frank Kidder and another old-school comedy guy (Cantu) are now part of the police proceedings. I comment: "Thought you would ever see that?…" Upon our return to the audience, we see that our away time has been put to good use by Denise and Joe entertaining the happy crowd with some fireman's carry game with sets of two hapless audience members and have accrued 60 points. Cheering and laughter for these time-fillers, while the original intent of the show/panel is all but forgotten. Later we are all in a van with Charlie Brown among others in the back, on our way to another performance.

Dream - Backstage before the Flood

Dream
I am somehow privy to 3 theatre productions running concurrently in a large warehouse space. At first as an audience member, then morphing into a backstage assistant to one of the actresses. Vince and Richard are also knowledgeable about those working on the productions. There is much busyness in the space as, workman dismantle and rebuild  the stages daily between each play. Time ticks away but there is no urgency just relentless hard work on a grand scale. The gay 'bouncer' at the door allows me in after quipping (not remembered upon waking) something I repeat to others as I make way in with a bag with auxiliary items for one of the actresses. She is blonde and has been asked to fill in for the third play. The other plays have something to do with variations on/with or without a certain costume of each actress. Each play had a distinct different actress. Detail is spent on my part packing bag with a variety of specific found items needed for blonde's part in the play.
This actress is visiting with small dogs and later meets a family with children and is cordial to their normality. They live in a single level house. We all witness a rainstorm and folks caught in this deluge outside. The increasing severity is reflected in BART plaza flooding with increasing number of blue tarps to cover the water as seen from window above. (having morphed from the family's first floor) Some concern and commentary about the flooding.

Dream - Medical Forms, Cats

Filling in patient's medical history and prescription forms at house/friend I am visiting. There is also a maid that is struggling with the same thing. She is familiar with this regular duty for her employer, while I am just biding my time while I'm waiting for her to finish or return from her busy life, and to help out so she is freed up to leave. The power gal of this huge house is around but too busy. She corrects or answers myriad questions about the forms on occasion, but disappears to other social or business engagements. The info needs to be transferred into matching fields from other hard to decipher forms. There is one black form, with white writing that is especially complex, hard to read and decipher.
I am next, tasked with taking care of Durst's cats while they're gone on a tropical vacation. They are attending one last baseball game before they leave. The game is about to be rained out, or perhaps not when the sun returns after a deluge. I am already on their enormous house boat. There are 2 decks that wrap around both sides of this enormous floating living space that has a view of the ballpark. What I think are 2 cats, an older tabby and a youngish kitten turns out to be 6 more exotics that appear after the mishap. A squirrel gets on board and the 2 known cats give chase. The kitten is outside the house and crawling into a broken headlights space on the outside of the boat.  My fear is her escape, but she returns indoors from the romping and high speed chasing with a broken foot, that is now swelling. This kitten is hobbling and favoring the front right broken paw. The older Tabby is also concerned and shadowing the limping kitten and licking the broken paw. I must reach the Durst's for advice and possible vet visit. There is some hope they may be able to do this before they leave. I am concerned, Will seems to be taking the lead because Debi is seldom in sight or present. There is concern that the squirrel may still be on the boat, and may be a nuisance to the other now-congregating cats or dead upon the Durst's return if it is trapped on the boat.

Dream - Sex and Elvis

Andy I's house, I'm resting horizontally on my side, possibly laying down for a nap and he mounts me from behind for sex. His release results in a huge load that surprises me and I surmise this as his peccadillo of shame. He must greet other visitors while I am secreted away to deal with huger-than-imagined load dripping down my leg. Can feel the warm wetness and proceed to clean myself up. He asks/requires me to be hidden upstairs afterward. Part of a long detailed rationale explaining rules of my continuing to stay for his repeated and regular pleasure. He is a bit naive and thrilled that this will happen again.
Escape to attend a huge Elvis Presley concert where I am privy to his redundant clueless wandering behavior in stands and backstage mechanics of his life in arena during concert, I view this from wide stairs below, near seats of friends who are either oblivious, uninterested or bored with this view so nearby. I leave concert early with one of them on inside tip that he always leaves at same time while band finishes concert, Sure enough, I watch Elvis carried out, wrapped up in a hod. Despite a full stadium, we go to an empty parking lot, looking for my odd white car. We are on the way to drop off my male morphing identity passenger in Santa Cruz, she/he wants to take a side trip looking for a storage unit. Pull over at Chinese donut shop to check phone map, enter and crawl  under hinged counter. Now also have a small boy dressed in overalls and s'easter, and Judi Clark is now present, impatient and calling the shots.

Dreams - Shorts

July 27 - A lineup of all the stages of Dad's life, as presented by different costumes and small vignettes, all acted by me(?). MC'd by me as Ed Sullivan.

July 17 - Cannot remember a pleasant complex dream, but have the phrase, "The bees always return to their hive home" as the last thing said before waking from the dream.

July 11 - There are many elements to this dream, most of which have to do with Chinese culture. Decorations, a parade and shiny embroidered sheath dresses. Most details disappear upon waking.

Dream - Birds and Boys

Margaret and Alex Lindsey are visiting my house and I am ensconced in my attic bedroom. Both are pleasantly conversing about this part of the house they haven't been privy to. Margaret is antic and moves the stuffed chair out onto the roof, relieving it of the white covers in the process, to sit and be outdoors. She curiously opens the Dutch roof door into the eaves, which now are sunny and habitable and include a south window and an upright piano. It has become a small playhouse-sized room. Although dusty it is cleaned out, pleased, I note this without venturing inside. It has upped my living situation in Margaret's eyes and she also seems pleased and her continuing conversation is positive about the experience. She leaves for another appointment and Alex stays. We talk and as I note an odd, large flocking of birds (gulls, maybe pigeons) outside the window, above the alley, Alex gets up to look and becomes dizzy and faints back onto the bed, white as a sheet. He sez he is about to be sick, so I rush downstairs to get a bucket. My first thought is to make a cold compress for him in a very Florence Nightingale way. He pinks up after not being able to hurl into the plastic container supplied. He recovers and goes along his way.

The second dream starts with leaving a theatre production on Geary and catching up to Debi Durst and Diane Amos who were also there. While Diane is friendly, Debi is taken away by other preferred associates. Michael O'Brien is also there and asks if I can help him with some computer glitch. We leave Diane, as he sez he would like to take care of it ASAP. We walk toward Sutter where his new digs are. There are open walkways between buildings and we ascend to an apartment he shares with Ric Schneider/Ed Helms and maybe Chris Frieber is visiting. The glitch seems to be task work that he wants done and doesn't have time, or fixing some game system he wants to play. We take a break into his living room where the other guys are hanging out. It has a grand panoramic picture window that overlooks the City that looks as dense as NYC from these heights. The buildings are skewed and we are higher than imagined from this viewpoint. I marvel at the beauty. Margaret is now also there. There is another flocking of birds, assembled in a funnel that they are systematically peeling off and feeding back into, in the distance. There is a cry from the bedroom for help and we all rush to see a hapless Ric on his back on the bed with an erection caught in his zipper. Even though his colorful briefs (underoos) are shielding his pinnacle, he is whining in pain at his dilemma. We all laugh. I am doubled over on my knees with the giggles at the cliche dilemma he is in and barely able to comment on the ridiculousness. He is begging for help to free him. We all set about trying to come up with solutions, in lieu of actually touching it.

Dream - Mom's Tschotkes

Verla has an apartment that I am visiting. She has returned with a new younger male friend, that has helped her to clean and open up a large closet into a small room behind louvered sliding doors. I admire all the new room she has and am amazed at this newly discovered space. She is busy, busy, busy getting ready to go out again.
Later she is on Market street at her regular table selling tschotkes of her making. This is an entrepreneurial venture and she has done quite well with it. Today she is having a fight with someone and denies them a purchase and angrily pushes them away. I step in and realize she has slipped a cog and must be attended to for her mental failing.

Dream - Kidsitting and Dinner Parties

There are many forgotten pieces to this long dream that include a vacation presentation with grass skirts and other costumed destinations. I am at my home, with television and Kelly's boys. It is a mishmash of myriad happenings upon waking, despite my efforts to reconstruct.
The last part remembered vividly is, I am tasked with sitting Cory and Alex. They are manageable, content to play video games, and be fun kids at my house. However I have double-booked myself and must meet with new dog sitting clients in the Dogpatch area of Soma. It is dusk and we walk there and down a cosmetically clean alley. I can feel the sensation of peeing my pants, so that is another concern to be addressed. We arrive at their unassuming door, as I soldier the boys into good behavior mode and ring the doorbell. I am greeted by an unfamiliar older and sour face. I don't realize  it is more than just a meet up, it is huge sit-down dinner with their friends. I have not alerted them of the kids attendance and there is some huffing and puffing among other guests or roommates I don't recognize. I wend my way through the crowd to find my host who is busy in the kitchen and unfazed by the extra plates needing to be set at one of the many tables. Others are giving me stares and ultimately I know no one at this party. They are older and seem to have had bad plastic surgery or are just bored and discontent with their elevated lot in life. Cory and Alex are behaving, but the impending juggling act is foreboding. Oddly I see an old friend Tina Fey, and she  points out another dinner guest (evil Tina Fey) in attendance that I will give her support in dealing with. This could have been a cuckolding nemesis or just a notorious bitch. I need to change my wet panty liner and I notice dog poop on the carpet and alert the boys to avoid it. They want to help clean it up and are down on their knees. It changes from a bland grey to a mustard brown yellow as they try to maneuver it into a bag. It seems it will not end well.

Dream - Teachers and Dogs

I am showing the ropes to a new teacher at FAIS. He may be taking over my position which I am thrilled to leave. Part of my duties in the transition is settling him into teacher housing. It is a ramshackle studio at the end of a long hallway or pier that has odd stacked box access. Doors are modular and there all seems to be a piecemeal arrangement of window parts making up walls. It seems cozy and has a view of the water, although the street orientation is at Geary and Mason. He looks like Joseph Feinnes and has 2 little dogs. He has to leave for school duties and I am visited by parents that I am to show around the City (David Baal's parents) before we leave I am concerned about the dogs that may need to go outside or are unsecured in the new teacher's box and window studio. I leave the parents on the street to check on the dogs and spend quite a bit of time tending to their cute needs. One is a Papillion, and the other is equally small. There seems to be no way to insure they will not escape the studio and I work a puzzling set of options that will surely undo or crawl through. They do get loose and run down the long hallway, I give pursuit and meet up with the parents who have been waiting an inordinate amount of time on the sidewalk down below and have come upstairs to see what's up. They are not upset despite a need to get somewhere at a certain time. They also converse with another teacher in the studio warren and are invited into bide their time and be friendly. They find some of my erotic drawings in the other teacher's studio and are amused, quizzing me on my transplanted head technique. The dogs suddenly return with the new teacher, frantically happy that their master has returned from school.

Dream - Exploring

Phillip Seymour Hoffman is present in this dream in a back office room at the end of a hallway. I am leaving the building after having had a conversation and taken some advice from him. The dream morphs into Kelly and I walking and exploring an outdoor muddy corridor to reach another tourist destination on our vacation trip. The pace is casual and we encounter some old abandoned cars and a plywood blocked part of the walled corridor. Undeterred, as we make our way around the obstacles, an older black man pulls the plywood door back so we can pass. The convo is friendly and he wishes us well on our way to this previously forbidden area we are traversing. Later or in another dream, Verla is offering her car so we can go on another adventure.

Dream - Leopard

In a large hotel where friends are sharing a suite of rooms. It is an old hotel and a sliding door below the room? has access to a sub basement that oddly has a collection of exotic animals of unknown origin (old zoo, private collection?) an Absynnian leopard is roaming the halls and I have taken refuge in my room, only to accidentally find this passage. A roommate unknowing leaves the sliding door to this part of the basement open after I have closed it, allowing the leopard access. I have figured out what is going on and have started to alert the others, but the roommate has partitioned himself off in his part of the room, and will not know of the leopard in our room. He is safe until he ventures out. I run to some of the other rooms to alert the others and realize I have no way to get in touch with the trapped roommate (may be Topher Grace) while we work on solutions and fret, some of the others return and accidentally allow other wild exotic animals into the room — 2 albino leopard cubs,  and adult predatory cats. We are frozen and fear that Topher Grace has been mauled, because the first leopard is not in sight.

Dream - Murder

I am at a multi-level home, much like Karen C.'s Tiburon home. I am traversing the stairs both up and down and closing doors, some sliding, as I pass through on my way to others. At some point I encounter the owner, either coming home or revealing her presence in the large house. She is an Anne Hathaway-looking woman who has murderous intent. I am surprised and frightened to see her calmly announce that she is about to kill me, shaking her head at my questioning the idea and despite my friendly approach. She is closing a door behind her to trap me as she details her plan to end my life, no reason is giving, she is focused on her plan as I am formulating an escape route through another room and trying to make sense of the 'why' of her change of heart.

Dream • Dragonfly Face

The tail-end of a longer locations based dream. I am giving directions to Sue Murphy on how to access an upper back room or green room. She listens attentively as I tell her that it is upstairs through a bathroom that leads to yet another bathroom door that leads to the desirable room. She seems grateful, yet suspicious of my knowledge and forthcomingness. The scene shifts and I am in this room either resting or waking from a nap. Denise Schultz is there in attendance and concerned that I am infected/infested with dragonflies. Small just born dragonflies that seem to be embedded in my face. She is taking care in removing them, one by one. We are somewhat concerned but not panicked at my condition. Puzzlement as to how I could have become infected as she methodically removes the small glistening-winged creatures.

Dream • Cat Chase in NYC

After waking earlier answering bday email from MarFab and listening/viewing maps in 9-11 museum app. Fell back to sleep and dreamt. Was visiting Margaret Fabrizio in NYC. She lived near that part of town and her digs were oddly configured as same. Jerry was with me and was disconcerted when another cat (tabby) entered the compound corridor. First mounting the cat and then supernaturally going on the attack from a ledge with a perpendicular gargoyle pose, defying gravity. The other cat took off thru a grate in the wall, with Jerry giving chase and me not far behind. We traversed a series of doors with attached snack shops and other corridors. Knowing that Jerry would eventually return, I strolled around and through and witnessed some street lights fold and coil up in response to an oncoming fire engine/siren. Saw Jerry peripherally chasing the other cat on the street. When the fire engine passes by it was squeezed in the narrow streets and only seemed to be towing a manned magazine stand. "We're just giving Otis a lift on our way" the firefighters chatted up pals in traffic. I went back to Margaret's place and/or found her further down the path in a plaza. I tried to tell her of Jerry's calisthenics and the fascinating folding robotic street lights. She cut me off or wandered away mid story.

Alex Skates the Gap

Killing some time before seeing X-Men with my friend Kelly and her boys, mom decides to do a bit of clothes replenishment for them. Unless you're actively trying on clothes, shopping can be a drag… or an opportunity to be creative. Luckily, a pair of shoe skates, a relatively vacant clothing store, and an iPhone make the time glide by. We got 3 minutes of continuous footage before the 'attentive' staff politely asked us to stop.

Could apologize for the camera's vertical orientation, but we were at the Gap, and my pal Alex does a great job of smoothly maneuvering that gap. Get it?

YouTube copywright & ad-free music: Catch a Way by Everet Almond

Have Litter Scoop, Will Travel

Occasionally, I have the opportunity to hang out with other people's pets in their exquisite far-flung homes. This is my letter of introduction to new interested parties.

Hello,

I'm sending this note to introduce yet another facet of myself to you.

My name is Jeannene Hansen and I have house/dog/cat sat for a variety of folks throughout Marin County for the last 20 years while they were on short and extended vacations. I am a 60ish, responsible and reliable adult that takes great joy in spending time with furry family members that prefer to stay in the comfort of their own homes. 

I have many dog pals that count me as one of their favorite playmates and love the attention and long walks we share. A local groomer, specializing in house calls for elderly dogs and cats, uses me as go-to sitter for her clients that travel. I have stayed with countless special needs animals and attended to their medical, as well as emotional requirements. Their returned affection is a perk of the job and if they could, I'm somewhat certain they would ask for me by name.

The Smiths* have entrusted me with 2 generations of cats in their large home while they spend month(s) away in San Miguel d'Allende. They're able to relax and rest, assured I will look after their house along with 'entertaining' their cats and keeping them out of trouble on the property.

I have owned 3 cats who have lived out their extended blithe existence with me as their best friend and companion. I'm familiar with both kitten's and cat's trademark idiosyncrasies and delight in playing relentless fetch or string-chasing as much as serene lap-sitting and napping. Cleaning the litter box and occasional hairball 'deposits' are obviously par for the course.

I am available and able to travel to your home and would welcome the opportunity to spend some time in your city. I can provide glowing references and if you're interested in my caring services, I am also available for a phone interview or video call..

Best to you, your future "High-Class Kitty Bitch"

*anonymized name

Dream - Big Doings

Gathering for Femprov and others in a large hall. Bill Gates is complimentary as other dignitaries add their 'support' during set-up. This seems to be honoring Femprov. In some sort of retrospective. Sandee A. is calm and collected as she deals with her older husband. The hall is large and there is a suggestion that Femprov's gals should help with tweaking tablecloths, by scraping candle wax drippings from last use and other girl task duties. Most including myself comply and finesse and finish the tasks. We are also at Matthew P's house, going up and down stairs where Sandee is and outside overlooking the city above on stone stairs. The Beatles are in the vicinity and are playful as we traverse and gambol outside.

Dream • Lost keys

I am trying to make an 8 o'clock curtain at Berkeley Rep for an already paid for ticket. It is almost that time and I think I can make it if I borrow the Wakelins car. They are not close to my destination, but I enter their (different) house, am greeted by the cats and proceed to look in drawers for their car keys. I am not in a hurry, and keep rationalizing being later and later. A rather large Bluejay is also present in the house and is a curiosity. The house is white and very modern and the Wakelins are away.

Dream - Odd Fragments

Now mostly forgotten, but these are the notes I scratched upon waking. See if you can make sense at least 2 weeks later…
Mort Sahl dating papers, wife, demands of me contract
Own full version would. Buy it again billy Jaye
 Pointy face haircuts vs other shaggy do in a diner
 Hum

I can vividly remember the side long serious glances from Mort as I looked over the pre-nuptial(?) agreement. He has been burned and wants to make provisions from his heart and dignity being damaged in another pending relationship. There are things to sign and initial with a lawyer present. He is very stern and suspicious if we are to move forward.

Do I bring another version of my own making to the table? Was Billy Jaye there to vouch for me? Or help me make purchases? Why are hairstyles being discussed or reviewed in a diner setting. I can imagine me humming through this procedure as a way of self-soothing…

Dream - Earbuds

Had a complicated dream with many parts, forgotten upon waking… later in the AM had a flashback to a section where I was concerned about losing the earbud bumper, felt it in my ear and spent time trying to figure whether it was the left with the Braille marker bump or not. Thought it an odd section to remember at the time, but damn if I didn't truly IRL lose the right one by the end of the day! Premonition much?

Dream • The Grubers

John Gruber and his wife are watching a television show with me, after it is over he asks my opinion and while I fumble to find the good in what I liked about it, he starts to critique it thoroughly. I cannot argue with his points which are salient from his point of view. I am called to get up to attend to something outside in the back (wedding details or animals). As I return he and his wife are leaving quite hastily, without pleasantries, and seemingly because they do agree with me and have nothing left to say or be in my company.

Dream • Conference

I am at a conference that is held in a large space scaled up from my flat layout. I am in a front office vestibule at the end of a long corridor and have found a template for a newsletter broadside called The Art. It is about 4 pages and has a header with an electronic motherboard in the center behind the letters. I am industrious and happy putting the pieces of it into place. I visit the conference on the same expanded floor and it is familiarly like Macworld, but of a more progressive future bent. The ceilings are much higher and airier. I am more interested in putting together the newsletter, as it sparks my initiative tendency. Joshua Brody is there and is complimentary but not in charge of the final go-ahead. In exploring the conference further, I realize there are stairs that lead to the street and encounter Chris Jones and we converse about other dream forgotten events about to transpire. 

Dream • Stairs and Improv

There is a downtown destination for an improv troupe performance I am attending, perhaps with my Dad. It is near 2nd and Howard in a tall ceiling'd warehouse/(wherehouse) There is much young excitement and merriment in a pre-show hub bub. I am curious and it harkens back to my younger past in performing and location. The troupe is new and old at once in the type of pieces they have chosen to perform and are discussing amongst themselves.
Now I am with Teresa Roberts and we are at another more refined location. Barbara Scott is there and 'in charge' of the impending festivities. It seems to be a performance space for a more wizened troupe and I see a few other familiar faces. People come and go because the bathroom is on another floor. The long industrial stairs are grey and lead to a taller floor that has a parking garage attached. The spaces are somewhat infinite, unfinished yet friendly and welcoming once the layout of the maze is understood. I traverse the stairs more than once, sometimes with Teresa, sometimes guiding others.
Now I am at home at the Wakelins and am aware of their lanai that is used as a warming sun room. The north south geography of the house is apparent and the Wakelins may have just arrived home and we are reviewing their home, as well as getting an informational tour.

Dream • Suburban Family

I am house sitting for the Meadows (green building) and am finished(?) but must check in with them before they leave. I meet them at a restaurant where Kirsten  is chattering about their destination and excitement for the trip details. There are several friends in their booth listening and wishing her a Bon voyage. Her plans are determined as she has not been out of the house and away for sometime. She is also pregnant with a daughter that is a bit of a surprise but welcomed, even though almost 10 years after her last. Scott is paying the check and getting the car/minivan for their departure. I owe her 12 dollars in repayment of some dream forgotten thing. I lay a ten dollar bill down, and before I can fish out the other 2 dollars she has gathered up her boys and the family is in the van speedily backing down a long driveway that borders the restaurant to zoom across the street to their house in view from the restaurant. The boys are happily shouting and singing out the windows. The house is newly automated and the front lights up as they approach and slides apart to reveal the welcoming warm interior along with some Rube Goldberg enhancements like a clothesline that swishes to dry the clothes. As the Meadows van reaches the end of the driveway, the house quiets down and darkens. I follow to deliver a message of some importance. Inside, there is a blonde doofus guy in attendance in their kitchen. The phone message requires  a pencil and he grabs a carpenter's flat pencil found on the descent down the stairs. The family is already downstairs in their bedroom behind closed glass doors. They may be arguing, because even the doofus guy knocking on the door goes unheeded. He takes another tact and produces a 'looping' machine box, heavy and black. I am right behind to witness his attempt.

Dream • Ihnatko, Gay Haight T-shirts

Andy Ihnatko has moved in to my place and in my absence has shuffled some things around to make room. In the process he has broken my wooden TicTacToe board into 3 pieces. I am not concerned, but set about gluing it back together. There is much slathering of Elmer's and pressing the jagged pieces tight with slip mount tissue. I am having some difficulty and make several attempts. Andy is not overly apologetic and we both agree that is part and parcel for the moving in. He has many other things to attend to, business-wise and we only briefly make extended contact. 
Now I am on Haight street, rather abandoned and empty and make my way toward the park on the west side of the street. I encounter a large warehouse building  entrance that is unfamiliar. There are some makeshift signs saying. It is a gay run business or that they cater to gay clientele. I go in to explore and it is quite an enterprise, mainly a huge automated TShirt factory. The upper deck overlooking is office space with officious folk discussing business plans and next-moves of a philanthropic nature. I watch the machines and talk to a few people to clarify the proceedings. Stepping out and crossing over to the East side. I am joined by a young girl who is interested and quickly takes my hand as we walk. I immediately tell her although I look otherwise, I am straight. She does not seem to mind, or remains unconvinced. I am glad to have that in the open and feel comfortable laying down on Haight Street (in sleeping bags?) to watch passers-by. The street is now busy and one particular friend of hers stops to talk about her military experience and a new hand gun she has acquired. Quite excited to go home and assemble it and carry out some sharp-shooting or otherwise aggressive gun behavior seated in her military training.

Dream • Jobs and Jenna

I am at Steve Jobs' rather long house, it has many rooms and I am privy to the railroad car like arrangement of a back study and a lanai. He is randomly busy and stern. His 3 kids are around and while he is cognizant of them, it his wife, Jenna Elfman who is the real energy and force in the household. She is holding court and commandeering an outing. There are many dream forgotten details in this fascinating observer mode dream.
Now it switches to my home turf and I am frantically coordinating catching a Google bus at 24th and Valencia. I can see it coming and am trying to gauge the time I have to make it to the second stop on 24th if I  miss the Muddy Waters cafe stop. I end up chasing it down 24th Street in a futile attempt to get on. Again, many dream-forgotten details in this little escapade.

Dream • Kristen & Leo Fans

Kristen Bell is solving a puzzle/industrial crime in a high rise. part Veronica Mars! part House of Lies character. There are many dense dream-forgotten details to the tale. She is cool and savvy and we seem to be on the same wavelength. 
We are then in the presence of Leo Laporte, I ask for a ride back to the city from Petaluma. While it is bold, I am sure that he will say yes.
There are odd fans that expand and bloom as they are taken off the wall hanger hooks where they are stored. They are green and blue and quite beautiful and rounded in their design. I am fascinated and play with them for a time. There is conversation on a peer level with Leo and the many tech folk around. It is a stimulating and exciting environment, where a brainstorming meeting is going on..

Dream • Toy Story Date and Lots of Boys

I am on a first date or being wooed by a wealthy entrepreneur/celebrity and while there is an attraction on both our parts, I am the prize. We are at his house which is large, cavernous, old and ramshackle. It is filled with recently acquired old things of interest. A cabinet of curiosities which he is showing and proudly explaining their provenance. I am intrigued but unimpressed as he shows me his stuff. It is of more sentimental worth to him, and I find that interesting and am politely attentive. We are in his bedroom which consists of a roll top desk, large closet, bed, and other furniture of dark wood. He has an appointment that he will return to me from. I am convinced to stay and he offers his prize possession for me to read in his absence, a copy of Time magazine with a cover story about the movie Toy Story, which he had some technical or VO part in. He looks like Colin Ferrell in Carlos Allizeraqui's body with a Jimmy Fallon's young boy vibe. Very cute, probably younger, and a catch. I settle in to read the article and proceed to fall asleep for a short nap. I am awakened by assorted comics that have been hanging out downstairs in this huge house. They are familiar to me and it is like seeing old friends. However my presence in this role is somewhat of a curiosity to them. They are suspicious and jealous of the owner's date with me. They disperse and a soft-spoken Will Durst comes in to witness my presence in this odd circumstance. We talk quietly for a time, while he gets up the nerve to confess and warn me that at some point (when I die) he will finally approach me and do this— he plants a tender kiss directly on my lips and leaves. I am surprised and aroused by his planned & practiced speech. During this encounter on the bed,  I have creased and folded this mint condition Toy Story magazine cover. I furtively try to smooth it out and press it under something heavy in a futile attempt to fix it. I decide I must leave as I am rested, have confusing feelings about Will's gesture, need to get back to my life. I go to the bedroom closet to retrieve my long coat and realize the lining is covered with clinging saffron, a perk of being in this wealthy household. I try to dust off and remove the exotic orange spice by beating it against the closet's doorway. After much effort at this task, I finally exit to the larger house and encounter other's that question my extended nap. At about this time, my date returns and we have a chance to say a romantic good bye among his other installations of historic acquisitions. One of which is a 3-D printer that he has used to create a charm or key fob of dream-forgotten shape for me. It is more trinket than keepsake but a lovely gesture. We kiss but it is hollow and without chemistry, and we both know it, despite wanting it to be otherwise. We part with abit of sadness at the inevitability of this realization. I am outside and walking home with pals as I retell of my adventures.  At home, Kathy Hughes comes in and is panicked because clothes/possessions that had been stored in her car are missing. I had seen the car in the driveway, untouched moments before, but she reports there is one item of clothing on the ground and the driver side door is ajar. I ask if maybe Anne is around and emptied the car… but no, so we go to investigate and try to solve the mystery/theft.

Dream • 37 Pillows

A much more complex episodic scenario is dream forgotten upon waking. I am stacking bed pillows, possibly 37 in number and tidying up their pillowcases in a tall stack that I am distributing back onto a bunk bed or tall shelf.

Dream - Website Work

I am away from my web duties for a week and in my absence Will has changed up the Front Page of his website to include obituaries/shout outs of RIP to recently departed celebrities. The design is minimally compromised and will be dismissed when fresh stuff happens this week. I have a meeting with him to reconnect after my absence and discuss in a small bistro. There are plenty of people around and I cover my design exasperation to convince him back into the original well-thought out design. He is somewhat oblivious to the ramifications of the changes that rock my little design fiefdom. Later I visit their house and speak to Debi, where it is apparent she is the one that made the changes… and discusses the HTML strategy in unravelling  my code. She knows her DIV tags and lobbies for the changes as viable alternatives. (Which they are, I am just stubborn) can't argue with Debi's laizzai-faire approach. Again there are many people around and visiting that I don't know from my longer absence from the comedy scene. There is a sense of shyness and not wanting to intrude in this group of people I 'know' (how to navigate, handle) and relief that I don't have to use my energies and powers to navigate and handle these folk. There are many familiar feelings I recognize within myself that are triggered reflexively to 'come to the rescue' in this social situation and make right. There is also a confusion in not knowing the back stories Debi helpfully offers to include me in their back stories. Other locations are dream forgotten, but they are busy, colorful and filled with people.

Dream • Lost on the Airport Shuttle

I am traveling to NYC with Barb & Cindy for a fun girls getaway. Despite it being a short, weekendy thing, we pack suitcases with regular stuff, including phone chargers, money($300) etc. the flight is uneventful, although Cindy is separated from a chatty Barb and I and seems consumed with her phone. Figure she is texting with family. She is across the aisle as our seats are not together. Barb and I are excitedly and animatedly going over our lists of things to do, plays, museums etc. When we disembark in the airport, there is much hubbub and we must climb many stairs to get to baggage claim. One set of stairs are blue & stainless steel, very industrial, with switchbacks. We also are in our checkpoint security socks, so we must claim our shoes as well as luggage. Piles of bags & shoes to go thru… Cindy is surprised, I did not text her across the aisle during the flight, as this is now her main way of communication. She hands me her iPod-like phone to hold during the baggage claim. I can't find my cordovan wing tips and suggest I will catch up with them both, once I locate them soon. I have an old brown leather valise, but in searching for my shoes, it somehow disappears. I wander in the airport, re-climbing those stairs, looking optimistically for items that I'm realizing may have been stolen. I still have my carry-on small purse with my phone. I get into a service elevator, that takes me to the surface, but it turns out to be a special transport for an odd, homeless crew (they cajole and have an urban wisdom) that takes us not only vertically but across town miles away from the airport and a waiting Barb & Cindy. Above ground, I realize I must exit this jitney bus before another stop and end up on a quiet, street across from a handsome guy, working late-night in in street level window of his intriguing and cleverly decorated brick walled office. He is dark, and looks like a scruffy Max Weinberg. I watch from outside trying to plan my next steps, when I am approached by a similar looking guy who is a bit off. He is very sweet, may have been on that transport bus, and is trying to be helpful. We talk and he hands me a zine of his own making that explains what he does. It is filled with equations, so I surmise he is scientist, he corrects me— a theoretical physicist. Impressive, but I suspect he may be delusional. I like and trust/warm to him, as he greets, hugs and converses amiably with the Max/architect guy who is leaving to go home in the pre-dawn. I am in an increasing panic & tizzy, because I'm still separated from friends and can't seem to get my bearings from surrounding landscape/skyscrapers. The physicist (Steve Trilling-like) sez he'll help me get to my friends and we are at once in his panel/bread delivery truck. He is very methodical and suggests I call, text, or email. As I reach into my purse for my lacking-a-charge phone, I start laughing, tell him he is going to love this, and pull out Cindy's phone that I have been carrying. It holds an unsent missive to her friend in NYC  that I try to amend with my need for help, but the interface is foreign and I can't even manage to send a new text that she won't see or receive anyway without her trusty device. It is early morning and my dread and remorse upon the realization that they are also stranded, like me and I have stymied the fun beginning of our vacation in NYC.

Dream - Appliances & Cars

After much shopping, because I still have the feel of cold white enameled steel/plastic from running my hand over different models, I am now the proud owner of deluxe washer drier combo. White, gleaming, powerful and efficient, top of the line machines. It's possible I have won these magnificent appliances, because I sense extra pride in ownership. Marga is there to ooh and ah and congratulate my acquisition. Meanwhile I am having my car appraised next door in this all-purpose mall. There seems to be a checklist that a group of auto mechanics/appraisers are using and arguing over. Anthony Bourdain is at the helm and adding his colorful and spirited opinion. The car looks like a TRX or squarish Porsche, but I know inside it is my shoddily repaired Datsun. Anthony grills me on this and I realize it is not what it looks like, and the bad spackle job underneath comes to mind as if I see it like X-ray vision. I have been fooled into believing it was a red-orange sportier version and worth more $. Either to seal the proffering of cash or just have a stiff one, we order 5 depth charges at a nearby outdoor bar, they're lined up on the bar and we proceed to throw them back after toasting Jeepers (who is apparently trying to wake me in RL)

Feb 12 - I can only remember a rough hewn redwood staircase with black bolts that I use as an egress. I stay in bed forever trying to reassemble the juicy details, but cannot.

Dream • Sex Wares

What begins as a larger gathering at a university to hear recent developments in science breakthroughs, white papers and other findings of import, devolves into vendors and carnies selling sex toys to the straggling attendees. As Teresa Roberts and I amble across a large field toward our cars, we witness a young girl being persuaded to hear a pitch from the last of these gypsies in a car. Her boyfriend ropes her back in from the seductive promises to this young drunk girl.
This mostly forgotten dream seems a re-telling of the Nasa Ames research that contributed to the Real Touch Cyber Vagina product advertised on a sexNews show I watched last night.
Why not the Olympic's couples figure skating?

Dream • JLo Barrista

Larger dream where the only remembered fragment has to do with me at another coffeehouse to use their wifi. I have been at other places before this working on some larger agenda, but this stopover has Jennifer Lopez as a kindly barista who gives me the password and slips me a note "you are safe here" with my morning paper and change. There is a also a key among the handful of coins I am juggling back into my pockets. Her manner somehow suggests she is taking pity on my concerning behavior and helping me out. I inwardly question what about my outward behavior/appearance illicits this kind of helpful gesture from her. I am more than willing to accept and capitalize on her graciousness.

Dream • Wedding Dress

At my house, sitting in my rocker, I am aware that at 10:30 I am getting married. I have not chosen a wedding gown yet and it is 10:29. I am obviously running out of time and other anxious folks are appalled I have not attended to this bit of business. Knowing I had a little leeway on my wedding day, I am not as concerned but understand that time  has caught up with me. Springing into action, I rifle my small closet and find a black dress, that is at once inappropriate for the occasion, but my first choice to try on. Vetoed by those around, I reach into the closet and pull out a fire engine red flouncy number. I put it half on to model to much disapproval. I seek refuge in the larger room, and try to talk myself into calm as the escalating panic is affecting arriving guests. Aunt Arlene is there and pretty chill, but I can see her concern for me and my ineptitude in this situation. For some reason, I pull another dress over the top of the red one . This is bright yellow, also inappropriate, but now I seem to have all the colors of the German flag represented. Back into the closet, with some relief I pull out an off-white full length chemise gown, that everyone agrees will save the day. Some friends and helpers are angry and exasperated, while I am somehow resigned to the impending nuptials. The groom is dream-forgotten, but not really connected to this bit of a larger dream.

Dream • PPT & Bazooka

Last part of this dream about many small chambers in a large house. I am working for a small woman run business, with 3 employees. I am a contractor doing PowerPoint and having to find workspace in their small set of offices. The work is par for the course, but I must walk-commute there daily to work 10 hour+ shifts to meet a delivery deadline. There seems to be some unrest along the route I take to this job as I encounter 3 guys with a huge bazooka gun in the crosswalk of Dolores and 15th. They are jovial and showing off the power of the gun by shooting over the heads of on coming pedestrians. The ammo is not intended for us, but rather a larger entity that may be returning fire. It is simple to duck and pass by them unharmed. Upon arriving for another day long work session, the sec'y has suggested to her boss that I could work from home. I am ecstatic about this idea as, the workspace I usually eek out is a curtained corner, that may double as a bathroom. My knees are also inflamed and burning (physical pain I feel for real upon waking) from my ½ hour walk to this job. I mention the hour wasted, that I could be working, to the boss as added incentive for adopting this idea.

Dream • Daniel & Divorce

Daniel Craig is on the phone and needs my opinion on a dream -forgotten dilemma. Kelly has decided to get a divorce. Her main concern was retaining her china/set of dishes. Otherwise she was us disturbed about this major life change. She had come to the conclusion after much thought. A gaggle of gals get into the car with us to drive around and do some dream-forgotten shopping. There is much frivolity and purpose driven destinations

Dream • Campus by Rickshaw

Spotty memories upon waking… a visit to a campus plaza, laid out like an amusement park map. Every building, event and gathering of people is viewable from everywhere on this arena of land. David Baal is there trying to solve some need (registration, getting into a class, tuition?) and I was observing the occurrences rather than taking part or driving the action. We travel (by rickshaw or horse drawn buggy) from one location to another, learning of the situation or small drama that was transpiring in the vicinity. Being pulled into other people's dramas… perhaps a graduation of friends is also happening.

Dream • Boyfriend

A large warehouse where military vendor items are displayed throughout. Dad has realized that the items are not legitimate or as advertised by the supplier. As he tears down and dismisses those that haven't met the mark, there are angry, disappointed words with the faulty supplier. The time has come for him to drop me off to be picked up by my boyfriend, Alan Cumming at 22nd and Bartlett. I say goodbyes and switch cars. There is a bit of a ballet between the two cars as they leave and circle each other in the intersection, barely missing each other's bumpers. Shortly after going down Bartlett (the wrong way), Alan pulls over to confess that he can't be identified as my boyfriend. I am comfortable with this admission and not offended, but rather cozy up on the front seat and drift off to nap while he explains.

Dream • Birthday Panic

Awake in Fremont in a panic realizing it's Verla's birthday and nothing has been planned. Mark is also sleeping in the same bed, and we both realize the magnitude of our forgetting. He begs me to plan something, even though I will be at work all day, saying that he just isn't as good at that sort of thing. We go downstairs from the unfamiliar bedroom to 5th &  Maple house. Verla is busy doing unrelated things between the Dining Room and kitchen and somehow I have a last-minute card to give her and she is gracious. She also seems to be fielding birthday wishes from others via phone in the red kitchen. I quickly improvise a plan to go to a beach or waterPark for the day and make it seem like it always in the works. She seems to know it wasn't but is faux-thrilled at the celebration in her honor. There are others around (step family?) and I ready myself by finding a child's pink rubber swimsuit left by one of her grandchildren. To my surprise and amusement it fits and I squeeze into it to model it for Verla, who has now turned into Bonnie Bedelia (from Parenthood) She is also surprised and asks me how it feels. there are two oddly placed nipple stubs inside the suit that small inflatable balls could be latched to for play reasons that befuddled me because of their placement, but otherwise it was wearable. At this point Verla/Bonnie says she is not OK with me borrowing the suit to wear as it belongs to a favored grandchild. I don't hesitate going upstairs to take it off, as it is not my call. Familiar sadness but resilience to her demands.

Dream • Burden of Proof

I'm returning to a compound that is square in shape, the hallways on the outside of the rooms at the center are numbered like a hotel, but this feels more like a casual lockup /halfway house. Robin Williams and Greg Proops, (maybe Evan Davis) are trying to prove the innocence of Robin in a dream-forgotten incident. There is much discussion among us and out sleuthing concludes that if Robin had the evidence it would have been on him when he was scanned at the airport security checkpoint. I was asked to go get that paper proof at the airport, but I was also trying to interest them in rare video footage I had of Jonathan Winters. I realized it would not contribute to the truth/proof they were seeking, but thought they would enjoy seeing it for its historic import.

Dream • Little Shop of Anne's and Party at Kathy's

Slept late recovering this 2 parter.
Anne Hughes has opened a retail shop with a dream forgotten friend on Powell near Sutter. It is packed with curios and handmade delights. I spend the better part of a day shopping and cataloging perspective purchases in the shop with tables and shelves offering all sorts of clever items; ceramic doodads, glass objects, metal things… . Anne gifts me with a yellow ribbon that ties a floral duster, which I try on and wear as I shop. Since I am there so long, the 2 proprietresses rearrange the store, and I am back to square one in my plans of what to buy. It's opening day and they are re-thinking the best way to display their wares. I go to the bathroom and somehow the yellow ribbon gets wet in the toilet and proceeds to pull the duster down into the water as I flush. Panicked at the prospect of causing toilet issues,  I fish it out in time, but ewwwww. A group of Latin girls, some from French American that know me, are being trained to work in the shop and I converse with them. They want an alternative name for me, that is more Latina… so I suggest Nanino. I do make some purchases and leave with a bag of chosen items.

Now I am at Kathy's house for another family party. Jeepers is there and has somehow escaped across the street. I am wrangling him back in thru the gate, quickly as I see the Lettieri family on bikes is approaching, and I want to avoid an encounter. Once inside the gate, I note that the pool has been refurbished with beautiful small tiles in blues and greens. The water is bubbling to overflowing and lit from below. The transformation is impressive. Inside the house has also been remodeled and there are several bathrooms with an enlarged expanse of the rooms. There are new unfamiliar family members/guests and as I make my way to one of the back rooms, I am being followed by a man, he has a small girl child with him and needs directions to a bathroom. There is a similar looking man (twin? brother?) in a family gathering in a back room. The little girl peels off to be with her parentals as we bypass them to get to an unoccupied bathroom. When I turn around, the first brother, very darkly handsome and looking similar/possessing the same vibe as Bruce Linde, is sitting on the floor next to the toilet and looks up at me forlornly and sez. "You're looking at a broken man" My curiosity and cautious heart are pinged as I wake up.

Dream • Neighbors, Dad, Donuts

Re-House sitting in an enlarged floor space house seems sweet, until the previously closed doors reveal odd somewhat loud, violent neighbors. Closing the doors and locking them out keeps them at bay, but their disturbing memory lingers and seems somewhat threatening. They had always been there, but segregated by the doors. To escape, I attend a concert at nearby Skyline college campus. I have won tickets and despite the genre invite my father who patiently sits and joins me in attendance. Even though I know it's not his cup of tea, we are together and he drifts off despite the cacophony. He is asleep for most of it, but I am content to cuddle next to him and nap myself. The crowd is huge and enjoys the performance. There is a break in the show, and I wander out into the hallway lobby and sit next to 2 children. Someone familial approaches and shows them a movie (on a mobile device?) and they are thrilled because it is about the Mission, where they live. I tell them I live in the same neighborhood. One of them turns into Sandee Althouse and I am struck by her youthful resemblance to herself. She doesn't seem to recognize or acknowledge my presence on the couch. Meanwhile, the concert has devolved into a smaller room, where attendees are making their own music in an open mike type stage environment. I am intrigued for a bit but decide to go home. Approaching from Osage Alley, I'm pleased to find a space to chain my small vehicle/unicycle to a meter on 24th near a panel truck, where David Goldberg and a dream-forgotten familiar are unloading cargo after a hard day of manual labor. We speak and share donuts convivially. I take my donuts upstairs to finish and am joined by Will Durst and Terry Gillespie who also have donuts that are proffered. Despite having just finished mine, I join them in the big room and pinch off a partial maple cake segment of the gracious offering.

Dream • I got agate

The first part of this dream disappeared on waking, but informed the origin of a gift of a polished agate rock, wrapped and given to me. The location seemed to be near the Embarcadero and while the gift rock was graciously accepted and was of some importance from the giver, I was more than willing to re-gift it to Teresa Roberts who lived in close proximity to the original givers, and was likely to be gifting me with something I was not ready to match. There was some hesitation on my part, because the chances of being caught in re-gifting was likely, due to the proximity of their abodes. Teresa's gift was cool, but dream-forgotten, and we settled down to watch some television in her expansive waterfront apartment. It was light and airy with magnificent views of the Bay. All we could seem to find for viewing was an episode of Castle, despite her full cable access. We chatted as the show began, and I noticed a completely barren corner of her apartment. Asking about it, she confessed that it was part of her therapy (mandated by the therapist) to do without or wean herself off of television or perhaps some electronic gadget. She was not distressed by its absence. The walls were white as was her apartment.

Dream • Apocalypse, Plumbers, Old Roommates

Ellie Byrom was back, visiting with entourage of Will Ferrell-type and Pablo-sensitive guy. Kelly was also hanging out with plans to go see a movie around 11:00. Ellie and Pablo guy expressed surprise that something large (lumber) got stolen out her (moving) truck and asked to stay a couple of days. She proceeded to move in, changing the toilet to a lower brown version*, put together a four poster bed and introduced a small cute dog into the house. On the verge of going to the movie, because of uncharacteristic brightness, we looked out the window to see complete (atomic) devastation of the flattened landscape, mushroom clouds continually rising from a distant bay across the way and people walking around unfazed but obviously dazed. Burning man antics, with people dressed in costumes (big chicken, folks on stilts) were prevalent in our view, making for curious watching while trying to sort out what it all meant. At this time, a repair crew entered and surveyed to replace some plumbing couplings in the back with golden bronze discs, one of which I pocketed because of the intriguing etchings on the surface and the large stack they brought with them. Rob Hand showed up and indicated this was a long time coming and on the docket, having nothing to do with the recent blast. A female inspector was very chummy with him and they left together with the crew. One burly blonde crew member gave me a gracious loving hug after explaining about the routine maintenance the just completed. (* the crew may have replaced the toilet) The mood was convivial despite the devastation outside as far as the eye could see. Little mention was made of the situation. Kelly decided to repair her PCalc in the bathroom. Ellie had settled into her room with a comfy barcalounger chair and holding court with her guy friends around the 4-poster bed. Our plans for the movie were changed.

Dream • Parachutes

From the vantage point of my attic bedroom I was aware of small parachutes floating down from the sky. They seemed to be the result of a fireworks celebration, were very bright and colorful, much to the delight of Sean Hayes and Michael Urie. Both were very excited, friendly, chattering, and happy to be witnessing the excitement from the sky. They seemed to be just outside the deck door, having come up a back stairway. The parachutes may have had some treats or toys attached which meant that collecting or catching them was part of the festivities. The downfall display continued for quite some time and seemed to be never ending.

Dream • Bugs, Breakfast and Bellman

Out and about with friends most of the night, including Marga Gomez, we found ourselves at the darkened home of Filipinos or Koreans somewhere in Noe Valley. We may have been picking up another pal or changing clothes or mistakenly inside. The rugs were white and plush and there seemed to be a plethora of exotic centipedes, insects and various multitude of bugs crawling and squirming around, either as pets or part of the culture. They were large but seemed unthreatening, as if we were welcome visitors in their habitat. I got waylaid there, as the others took off to go to a local ethnic Korean all-the-rage restaurant for breakfast. The name was Sun(or Wan) Ri Mah. I needed directions on my own and proceeded to trudge across barren lots/playgrounds, with views of the Mission below and finally stumbled upon the restaurant. Marga and pals were there with Robin Williams, laughing and thoroughly enjoying themselves, having finished their breakfast, they greeted my late arrival with "Just in time to call us a cab!"