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Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Valhalla Nocturnes

Dreamt that I was assigned a new life partner. It was Tom Cruise. Oh...rilly? Mind you, Tom's not a bad looking dude BUT he belongs to some religious cult, right? Also, who IS this official org and WHY are they appointing a replacement mate so soon after my fabulous Amazing Bob’s death? I was angry about this in Dream Land and continued being royally pissed off when I woke. For those of you playing the home game, TAB’s been gone just 78 days. Hells Bells, his Diet Caffeine-Free Coke’s still in the fridge! What the everlasting fuck's the deal here?!

I suspect this shit's got roots in mia madre's doctrine that, without a husband, my worth was close to zero. Yeah, très lovely. I suppose you won't be surprised to hear that me and Ma weren't real tight.

Another one – my father was up here in Valhalla, teaching a Pure Math type class for folks who weren’t mathematicians (just so’s ya know, Poppy's much more of a  Prob and Stats kind of guy). The group’s assignment was to illustrate some complex equation using the tools of their specific trades. My pal Tim (who in real life is a graphic designer) created the most wondrous, intricately woven, luminous lace dress which perfectly illustrated the particular quadratic equation that Daddy was talkin' 'bout. This was one awesome sheath, I’m tellin’ you!

Oh and class met on my front porch. Huh. After they all left, I stepped out there to find both my tux’s sitting there – OUTSIDE! No, they weren’t making a run for it but still, Coco and Rocco need to be indoors where the local off-leash dogs, foxes and other assorted predators can’t hurt them.

I picked up Rocco (something that, by the by, canNOT be done in Wakey-Wakey World) and brought him inside. He seemed fine with this (which is how we know this was a dream, of course). I stepped out to bring Coco in, only to find that Rocco was right back to his original porch position. I brought him in again and, once more, he transported back out. ‘the fuck?

Luckily, before frustration could swamp me like typhoon Ferdie over Itbayat. Rocco woke me up. Good cat. I whispered to him that he should avoid dude's named Schrödinger at all costs.

And last night Jen dreamt that she and Oni were at some faraway airport, headed for home. They were cooling their heels at a pub near their gate, sippin' adult bevs, minding their own biz when Oni looked up and saw his father sitting just a few stools down. (n.b., Much Beloved Bruce died five years ago – he was even younger than my TAB) Oni casually popped over for a hug and chat, as though running into his father in airport lounges was a regular thing. When Oni got back to Jen's side, he was holding a large, weighty, antique magnifying glass. Bruce had told him to give this to me , saying, this will help her see what she needs.

Yeah. Chills!
Harlem Nocturne – The Viscounts

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