. . . Tupperware Cities . . .

Sunday, March 31

 

Kansas lost last night to Maryland. Bleh. I never thought the day would come when I would be yelling at the TV because my basketball team was losing. I think my friend Aaron influenced me to watch more basketball. All sports sadness aside, here is another keeper from the dream vault of Nettie.

DREAM: Grocery store murderers, Cookie dough flags, P.O. Boxes

I was in a grocery store with a handful of my friends. In my dream we were all much younger; 12 or so. We had murdered a man earlier, the details of which I either don't recall or had never experienced. I only knew what was happening from that moment on. There was a rumour going around that the man was still alive, and somewhere in the grocery store. My friends and I all split up to different departments of the store to hunt for him. I got the produce section near the front. I was crawling on my hands and knees, and peeking out from under the produce tables, trying to find the man. I remember the lights in the store being extremely bright; to the point where I had to keep shutting my eyes, and squinting when they were opened. Music overhead became faster and faster, causing me to stand up and start running around the store looking for everyone else I was with. We all ended up at the bakery department, and there he was; the baker. I put on a Spiderman mask and walked up to him, thinking he wouldn't recognize me. He did, and lunged at me, attacking. My friends distracted him long enough for me to jump across the counter, and grab handfulls of cookie dought that had been flattened out on the counter. Some cookies were already pressed into it, but not taken out of the dough. We ran out of the store, scared, but laughing. I passed out the cookie dough to my friends, and as they each grabbed the dough, it turned into the blue field of stars from the U.S. flag. Fucking weird. We all rolled up our blue flags, and headed toward the street.

There was a man in a suit, and a woman dressed as if she was from the forties. They were crouched in the middle of the street looking at a map and arguing. The police came by and asked if anything was wrong, then started to frisk them. I realized the police were probably going to find out we had pieces of flags and pick us up. I spread the word, and we kept running down the street. Then a female friend of ours pulled up in a truck. Above the bed of the truck, from the cab to the back bumper was a triangular shaped storage area. Hanging underneath was three separate white-mesh hammocks, in which a stacked bundle of money lay. As we hid the flags in the triangle compartment, more money appeared in the hammocks. The girl told us she knew where to keep the flags safe. "Now you can see my P.O. Boxes", she said to all of us. She then drove us to a secluded area, where she had a wall of hiding places, that sort of looked like an ancient skull-storage wall. These were her P.O. Boxes. Then she said, "Someday I'll be architect."

Lynnette 12:00 PM

Saturday, March 30

 

Greetings, friends. Just wanted to share this moment with you. I have reached a point in my life where I finally have surpassed something that has been with me for nearly a year. I am over it, I have changed. Also, on a sidebar, check out my crushes here.

Lynnette 12:21 AM

Friday, March 29

 

Sadly, I found out this morning that Billy Wilder died on the 27th. First Jack, now Billy. Click here for decent article from the Washington Post.

Lynnette 9:24 AM

Thursday, March 28

 

I am officially going to sneak out of work at 2:14pm CST. 007 out.

Lynnette 2:06 PM

 

DREAM: Brad Pitt, Skateboarding, "Comedy" club

Last night was all snippets of dreams. I stayed up late Tuesday to see some friends perform and since then my body clock has been askew. Today I get to leave work at 3 pm, and I'm directly home to fall asleep to some shitty court TV. Let's hope it's the People's Court. Now, down to business:

I was laying on a couch in my home, not a home I had been to before, but probably a home I will own someday. I was sprawled out end to end and was holding Brad Pitt in my arms. He was facing toward me and his face was snuggled into my shoulder. It was one of those warm, tight holds/hugs that every part of your body matches the other person's body completely. It was very relaxing. (Why can't I dream of holding beautiful boys every night?)

I was outside at a skate park, but instead of the traditional layout, it was a couple of downhill slopes. There were a lot of younger boys there, my brother's age practicing, laughing, teasing, falling. Nicholas, my brother came along and I wanted him to try the big slope. It was steeper than the others and was covered in gravel, not smooth. All the way down the slope there were metal beams sticking slightly out of the ground, perpendicular to the slope, so if you went down the slope on your board it would sound like it does when you're driving off the highway, onto a ramp, and the metal joints go "ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum" under the car. Nicholas had always been a decent skater and I thought he could manage. But he, nor anyone else, could make it down the steep slope.

I went to a comedy club with my friend Steve. We drove up in a little convertible, top down. It was night out, but the air was warm and friendly. I parked the car directly in front of the club, above which was hanging an orange, inflatable cartoon-cat head the size of a Volkswagen, in lieu of a flashy neon sign. The name of the club was something catchy like the Cat's Pajama's, but I remember thinking the name was just another lame pun. Steve and I walked in, and there was already a stand-up comic "performing". More like he was sitting at a table, just as everyone else was, except he had the microphone. He went from topic to topic, not cracking a smile on his own face or anyone else's. Since Steve and I came in late, there were no chairs. So we had been sitting on the floor for the entire show. I got bored and leaned back onto Steve, who's legs were on either side of me. I remember thinking, "Why is this comedian not funny?" and "I am so glad there wasn't a cover charge".

Lynnette 8:14 AM

Wednesday, March 27

 

New Trans Am album "TA" out May 7th! Sweet, it's my chance to see them again!! Here's the tour info:
Trans Am**
Thu, May 16th Chapel Hill, TBA
Fri, May 17th Asheville/Charlotte, TBA
Sat, May 18th Atlanta, TBA
Mon, May 20th New Orleans, TBA
Tue, May 21st Houston, TBA
Wed, May 22nd Austin, TBA
Thu, May 23rd Dallas/Ft. Worth, TBA
Fri, May 24th Tulsa, TBA
Sat, May 25th Kansas City, TBA
Mon, May 27th Denver/Boulder, TBA
Wed, May 29th Las Vegas, TBA
Thu, May 30th Los Angeles, TBA
Fri, May 31st San Diego, TBA
Sat, Jun 1st Pomona, TBA
Sun, Jun 2nd San Francisco, TBA
Mon, Jun 3rd San Francisco, TBA
Wed, Jun 5th Portland, TBA
Thu, Jun 6th Vancouver, TBA
Fri, Jun 7th Seattle, TBA
Sat, Jun 8th Missoula, TBA
Tue, Jun 11th Minneapolis, TBA
Wed, Jun 12th Chicago, TBA
Thu, Jun 13th Detroit, TBA
Fri, Jun 14th Toronto, TBA
Sat, Jun 15th Montreal, TBA
Sun, Jun 16th Boston, TBA
Mon, Jun 17th New York, TBA
Tue, Jun 18th Philadelpia, TBA
**Wanna carpool, anyone?!

Lynnette 3:52 PM

 

Please click on the picture of Morris Day to be magically transported to a beautiful website devoted to the everlasting beauty of the band "The Time".

Lynnette 12:41 PM

 

Yesterday, after work, I went to a friend's house and watched the Simpsons while she changed out of her "biz cas" look. (Business Casual, for all you normals out there). I had a long, stressful day, which was apparent when she came into the living room and saw me crying on the couch. What's wrong, honey? I said in a genuinely weepy voice, "I'm crying because Ned Flanders is homeless." After hearing myself say this I immediately starting laughing, so did she, and all was right with my world.

Lynnette 9:28 AM

 

DREAM: Action figures on eBay, Patchwork Quilts, Shut Up

I dreamt that I was in a world that was all water (gee, no.... it wasn't Waterworld). The rooms were full of water and you had to swim everywhere, and there were no ceilings, just sky. I dreamt I lost something in the water and was trying to find it. Dive after dive I kept surfacing with different objects, mostly toys. I found X-Men action figures, and called out their names as I laid them down on a counter. Someone was watching me do this, and told me what to keep and what to throw back into the water. I found a Curious George figurine, about 2 inches in height, still mint on card. It didn't occur to me at the time that the water had done nothing to damage the packaging. I was so excited to find something unopened so I immediately started to tear the corner of Curious George's plastic cage....but not before the person stopped me. "Sell it on eBay", was what I heard. I figured they were right and put the toy aside for safe keeping.


I dreamt I was in a bedroom; it felt like my room, except it was extremely bright, and the walls were white. I was laying in bed, fully clothed, under layers of 3 or 4 old patchwork quilts. I was laying on my left side, awake, and when I lifted the quilts to adjust the covers, I realized I was not alone. A friend of mine, John (who will be referred to as this in any future dreams), was laying across from me. There was nothing sexual about us both laying fully clothed under the quilts; we were both there waiting for something to happen, or someone to show up. I was home already, so I'm fairly sure he was waiting for someone to come for him.


John left, and when I got out of bed I realized that my home was filled with people, mostly people I knew, but filled with people, nonetheless. Everyone was having different conversations and talking over each other. When words could not be heard the voices grew louder, until I heard myself screaming for everyone to shut up. There was a moment of embarrassing silence; experienced by myself for having screamed at family and friends, and them for having been loud in the first place. Then a woman started telling me, right to my face that she could talk all she wanted to. I started to back down, realizing I had no control over other people's actions. Then it hit me, this was my house, and I had complete, and autonomous control over that space. Then I made sure she knew it, too.

Lynnette 8:54 AM

Tuesday, March 26

 

For a number of reasons I have my CD collection online. It's a safe way to catalogue them for insurance reasons, I suppose. Check it out here, and no teasing or nasty emails please. If you see something missing, that should be in my collection, let me know! The only reason I did this was because yesterday was a snow day for my day job. Next time I have a cancelled day off I might do my records... *gasp*

Lynnette 10:42 AM

Monday, March 25

 

Feeling a bit lonely tonight, I took Nico's Chelsea Girl at work and played it through. I find her voice very comforting with all its faults. Came home and listened to some Bread, talked to my friend Paul online. I miss him and love him dearly, as I love only my good friends. Someday I'll be able to afford to visit all my friends.

Lynnette 11:31 PM

 

Yesterday began with a bubble bath and ended with a "nightmare" of filth. The bubble bath was to celebrate the newly found cleanliness of my bathroom. The "nightmare" was a result of working 6 hours at a Rob Zombie in-store, taped by VH-1, and mobbed by black-leather clad (albeit extremely nice) teenagers. I would have been extremely bored if I didn't have some cool rekkid store people to hang out with all day. See pictures of the event at elasticheart.com I heard the new Rob Zombie CD about five times before I left, which is what I think caused portions of the following dream.

DREAM: Rob Zombie, Badly Drawn Boy

I found myself at a party, that had long since wound down, but it wasn't quite morning. In the basement I went walking around people laying every which way on couches, rugs, stairs. Everywhere there were piles of chunks of ice. People had left glasses, beer cans, and vomit all over the piles, and overhead coming from some nondescript location was shitty metal music, whose lyrics told of penetration, death, and dirt. (Thanks to Cody for introducing me to the covers of all the metal CDs... neat.) After wandering around, simply stunned, I found my way upstairs. Richard, Amy, and Candice were up there, and I was happy to see some friendly faces. I asked my friends if they wanted to have some tea on the second-story porch. We all went up there, and I was surprised to see that all the snow had melted. Sipping our tea and chatting quietly led me away from the gruesome vista I had just escaped. Then one of my favourite Badly Drawn Boy songs came on the radio, which apparently was pumped into my screened in porch. What started out scary, ended up wonderfu.

Lynnette 8:44 AM

Sunday, March 24

 

DREAM: Orphanage, Marx Brothers menage a trois, da Mall

All will be explained soon, my friends; short and sweet. I dreamt I was living in an orphange where they wouldn't give us much food so I would sneak downstairs, by sliding down the spiral staircase backwards, and steal english mufins and peach jam and a knife and hide them in my room. This portion of my dreams I remember walking around with a loaf of bread in one hand (modern, sliced wheat bread in a plastic sack), and a butter knife.

Not much happened in this dream except for I woke up and found Chico Marx going down on me. I had just woken up out of a deep sleep, at first I thought it was Harpo because he didn't have his pointy hat on and it was dark, but then I saw his dark hair and knew it was Chico, the gambler, and not Harpo, the mute. Groucho was on my left, and Harpo was on my right. Is that fucked up or what? I mean I like the Marx Brothers but, shit!

I dreamt I went to the mall with my bitch, Candice. We were shopping for doughnuts, and then realized we needed to hitch a cab home. I called for the cab and gave him directions to Gateway mall; southeast side near the key cutter. Then I stopped in to Homer's for doughnuts. My friend Aaron was there but I didn't have time to chat; I had to catch our cab ride home.

Lynnette 10:09 AM

Friday, March 22

 

DREAM: Crack Baby Vol. 1

The reason I started this blog was to (b)log my dreams. Lately, my friends have been emailing me their dreams...totally sweet. Here's a bizarro one from my crack baby, Amy. I was actually given blatant permission to post this one; see last line.

"i woke up about an hour and half ago. i had this insane dream where thomas was convinced that the city of denver was keeping like fbi files on him, and he wanted to steal them back (seriously, though...the police department here has all these secret spy files on activist types here. it's been a big thing lately. pretty nuge.) anyways.... he wants me to go help him break into this place and steal the files. so we go to where these files are, and it's at this place that's almost a dead-ringer for [Mike] johanns' [our Governor] crib back in l-town. and he's telling me to go steal them, and i tell him, no, they're your files, it's your idea, *you* go steal them. so he goes in, and i'm waiting outside on my bike. he's taking forever to get them, and po-po rolls up, wanting to know what i'm doing. i said something(i forget what) and bike like hell out of there, and next thing i know, i'm by myself in this sort of half-jungle, half-forest area that's way west of town and i keep losing parts of my bike. (i should mention at some point that my bike had a stick shift instead of the regular shifter, and it would keep getting stuck in second for whatever reason. bizarre.) so i junk the bike and i'm hiking through all these trails in this forest place for what seems like forever until i find some suburban development. i head towards that, thinking i can find a bus stop and get
home, and get there. but i end up running through this huge-ass apartment complex with all these stairwells. i run and run, flying past people who don't even notice me, until i finally get to the end. i have to find this bus stop. then i find a small group of people walking and i stop and ask them if they know where the bus stop is. and this sweet old sistah is like, "oh, honey, that's where we're all going. come with us." i'm like, cool. so i walk with them to the bus stop, even though i'm getting this weird cult vibe from them. so we walk and walk, and get to the bus stop, which is this huge fanciful depot with all these prepay kiosks. so i put my money in, and keep
getting british coins back as change. i said something to the old lady, and she's all like, "honey, don't worry about it - they'll fix it when you get on." and the bus comes, we all get on, and i wake up. so that's my dream.

you can put that on your blog thingy if you want."

Lynnette 12:22 PM

Thursday, March 21

 

DREAM: Stress, Stress, Stress

Last night I had several unrelated snippets of dreams; all of which the motif was classic stress. First I dreamt I was on a type of merry-go-round that had no horses, but was just slow seats, and it spun around quietly, no music, no one talking. I remember my brother being on the ride, but everyone else was a stranger. The center of the merry-go-round was a dirt floor, and each time I'd go around I would see another twenty dollar bill folded up, waiting to be snatched up by some lucky, observant person. I decided that person should be me. The first few times around I missed, but then I began to pick them up. Three in total. Gee, am I stressed about saving money for my trip?

Then I dreamt I was going to a huge sporting event in a stadium that was as large as the Coliseum, larger even. I was walking with two people, around and around the walkways to find our seats. Then I heard a page overhead, "Lynnette you have a call on the white phone." I turned around and followed the corridor to the first white phone I could find. I have no idea who was on the phone, or what we talked about; I just remember thinking I had no way to find my seats, since the other people had the tickets and I walked away from them before we had found our places. After I hung up, I took a white duvet cover with me as a makeshift umbrella. Other people began to gather around me and under the blanket as it had begun to rain. Somehow the blanket kept us dry. I wondered out loud, why would anyone buy a white duvet cover? It's going to be very hard to keep clean, especially out here in the rain.

Next, I was working in some store, a department store of sorts folding clothes, or filing; probably a little of both. There was a woman who was my supervisor and kept telling me what to do, step by step. I asked for my own project, confident that I could do it on my own, without her guidance. She gave me a sneer and threw some files at me. I was told not to ask for help, and then was ignored. I knew I didn't need help, the job was so easy. I was hanging children's clothes back on the hangers, they had fallen, and all of a sudden there were about 6 or 7 kids around me. They started taunting me, telling me I was second-best, that I would never be perfect. I knew I would never be perfect and was content with my idiosyncrasies; but they still made me cry.


After this series of dreams, I decided I needed a day at home, to be away from everything. I cleaned my tub, and did all of my dishes. I took out my trash, and made a pile to take to the Goodwill; clothes I will never wear, or that I don't feel comfortable in. After all was said and done, I felt better. I find that nothing soothes me, and brings me back up to speed like a good house-cleaning. It is extremely cathartic for me; my own personal therapy to purge the stress from life. I drank hot tea and listened to Trans Am:



Later I plan on hitting Target and buying some houseplants; liven up the place. Outside it's only 25 or 30 degrees but I can smell spring just around the corner. Damn, I can't wait!

Lynnette 3:07 PM

Wednesday, March 20

 

Today is the vernal equinox, at 19:00 Universal Time. At the precise moment of equinox, due to the tilt of the earth, there is a myth that you can stand an egg on its end. However, after some time well spent researching this at work, I found that it's not true.

For you science nerds, or anyone who has taken basic Astronomy this picture shows what's happening today:



Also, I found a mouse in my trash can at work this morning. I was listening to Vespertine, and thought to myself, hmm.. I don't remember a paper rustling sound on this song. In my peripheral vision I saw something move in my trash can. Turns out it was a mouse; I watched it for awhile then figured I better take him outside before he gets out an into a trap that people have set up around the office. Flee, Mickey, flee.

Lynnette 1:06 PM

Tuesday, March 19

 

Most weblogs are text-based, and are set up as journals, to collect thoughts, findings. I found a nifty weblog today that is simply details and patterns. In fact that's the title of the blog: detail & pattern. Check it out. Your daily dose of visual joy. Here's a sample from a couple of days ago:

Lynnette 4:21 PM

 

DREAM: CENSORED DREAM, Skyscraper apartment, Skinned cat

I dreamt I lived in a skyscraper, and my apartment was probably 50 or 60 floors up. Of course it was a beautiful summer day and I was out on my balcony, sitting in the ledge painting my toenails. I decided to make my way inside, so I stood up, grabbed the banister and held on for dear life and pulled myself back onto the solid ground of the balcony. My cat, however, wasn't so lucky. I turned around and saw that I had left my cordless out on the ledge, but figured I'd get it later; the batteries were new. Citizen Kane, was all white in my dream, as opposed to black/brown/gray tabby and white as in real life. He walked out on the ledge and fell over. I ran and leaned over the balcony; there was a swimming pool adjacent to the apartment building, and I tried to will my cat to fall into it. He fell in a zig zag pattern, and I knew he wasn't going to hit the pool. I started down the stairs in a feeble attempt to save him. When I got to the ground floor I found the groundskeeper holding what looked like a cat exoskeleton, if they had them. Then a scared, all-black Kane came running at me. Apparently, the fall had caused him to loose all his white fur in one deal, which looked stiff like an exoskeleton. I carried my newly-black cat back up the stairs (um, where were the elevators?!) and as I rounded the flights, his white colour came back.

Lynnette 8:49 AM

Monday, March 18

 

Yesterday I had to drive to my landlord's house and sign my rent check! I hadn't paid because of really high gas bills (this place is screwy), and I was in such a hurry to send it off, I neglected to sign it! When I showed up I was expecting a lecture, a warning about paying my rent extremely late. This old couple I rent from have never charged me late fees, and are usually really cool about getting the rent after the first. Their house is kind of a time warp, I felt transported to the fifties as I walked into the kitchen. Well, the good news is they are going to replace the electric window heater/air conditioner that has been working off and on for the last year. Must figure out savings budget this week; I have big plans for this fall. Big plans, my friends, big plans.

Lynnette 11:15 AM

 

DREAM: Crying daughter, Bumpy Jeep, Burger King Whopper

I was sitting in my parents house, the one that I grew up in after we moved here from Seattle. There were a lot of people there, friends probably. I was talking on a cordless phone to someone, and holding a baby. The baby looked new, young, hardly any hair, but every once and awhile it would clearly say a word. Because I was on the phone it kept saying, "Well...", which is a transition I used often when trying to hang up. (In the rare case that it is me who wants to hang up first!) The person on the other end of the phone asked who it was, and I told them it was my baby, that she was already talking. Later on, I was walking up the steps to the second floor of the house and my daughter was crying; at this point she was about 5 or 6, but spoke very clearly and was very intelligent. I picked her up and comforted her, and I remember being overly conscious of not babying her, or being condescending. I told her there was no reason to be crying, that everything would work out in the end. I picked her up and held her, but she was already getting to heavy to hold for long periods of time.

I have no idea why I'm posting this, since it was a snippet of a dream, but I want to maintain the trilogy of my dream posts... I was in a Jeep, some old piece of shit, sort of like my friend Brian's Jeep. His was orange, had no top, and the floor had actually rusted away to the point you could see the road flying past beneath you. Well, my Jeep was black, but still rusty. I took it on this backroad, with a passenger in the car. I remember almost falling out of the Jeep because I didn't have my seatbelt on. When I tried to shift into second, the stickshift wouldn't move into any other gear but first. So I kept driving over the bumpy road in first gear.

I was in a car that was in line to order at the Burger King drive-thru, but the drive-thru was inside the building overlooking the kitchen. It was set up like a school cafeteria, in that the cooks were on one side of the counter, and there was a counter that slid across the room, you followed it along as you ordered. I was in the back seat of the car, and pulled my hand inside the window quickly, as the side of the car slid along the counter. I could hear the scraping of metal on metal, but it didn't seem to phase anyone. Then the car was gone, and all the other people was I with had ordered their food. I felt awkward about interrupting, but excused myself, and ordered a BK Whopper with no onions (oddly enough I never eat there anymore, and never ate Whoppers to begin with.) I grabbed my cup and waited for the cafeteria line to move forward to get my soda.

Lynnette 9:08 AM

Friday, March 15

 

Beware the Ides of March.

Lynnette 10:01 AM

Thursday, March 14

 

At home relaxing with some Cat Stevens. Sweetness all around here. Just saw Amelie for my fifth time with a friend who had not seen the film yet. I think she really enjoyed it. Very tired.

Someone at work told me the nicest thing today: This older woman who sits at the desk next to mine said she heard something that morning on the way to work that reminded her of me. I asked what it was. She couldn't remember for awhile, then it came to her. "Oh yes, I remember, I heard birds singing, and you always seem like such a happy girl."

What a sweetheart. I love Kathy.

Lynnette 10:15 PM

 

DREAM: Puffer fish, Volunteering, and Jogging

In my dream I was on my way to volunteer at an animal shelter/rescue place which was located around 27th street and Superior, here in town. However, it looked completely different; there were no buildings out that way, no roads, and no cars. It was simply dirt fields as far as the eye stretched. I was riding a red tricycle down a dirt road (27th street) as wide as a 6-lane street. I turned right onto Superior only to find that there was a curb, and I couldn't ride my tricycle over it. I got off and stood with one foot on the back, and kicked with the other. The dirt became thick and hard to peddle through so I got off and just walked/pushed the tricycle. I felt a crunch under my feet, like a rock that had just split in two. There were hermit crabs in shells hauling ass across the dirt, and puffer fish that were flopping along on their side. The puffer fish weren't wet looking, but rather velvety, like they had a soft powder covering their bodies. I steered my tricycle toward the shelter, making efforts not to crush any of the shells or fish. When I got to the shelter I had the feeling that I was either supposed to be there, or I was inadvertently impersonating someone who was supposed to be there. The director said we had to run 3 miles before we started work; I was worried since I haven't been biking all winter and was out of shape.

Lynnette 8:42 AM

 

DREAM: His, not mine

Got an email from my exboyfriend tonight. He sent me a dream he had. Thanks Nick! Here it is with typos and all:

Lynnette,

I had a dream last night and since I almost never remember my dreams I thought "who better to tell it to than you, a person who remembers almost all of her dreams." Okay, here we go, I'm trying to type fast so I don't start to forget.

Almost getting in a fight with Sting & Going for a ride at night (on my back) : It was Fall. I was at a picnic in a park in Engalnd talking to a grounds keeper who had just been insulted by Sting who was also at the picnic. I could see that the grounds keeper was working very hard cleaning up messes that the people were making so it made me mad that the high and mighty Sting would go out of his way to make this man feel bad. I told the grounds keeper that he was doing a great job and if Sting didn't like it he should take the time to clean up after him self instead of leaving a huge mess for someone else to clean. The grounds keepers smiled and said "Thanks mate" and went about his business.

I didn't know anybody at the picnic but felt quite comfortable mingling amongst the people as they all were very friendly and happy. Off to my left I noticed Sting standing alone and looking on in disgust at the people having a nice time. I went up to him and told him to look at the grounds keeper who was still hard at work. Sting just laughed and said "I went to school with the bloke and just rattled his cage to see if he would recognize me, he obviously doesn't listen to good music." I told him that the man was working very hard and enjoying his job until he bumped into you. I also said that a person can have excellent taste in music and without ever listening to Sting or the Police. With that Sting said that I was boring and should move on to avoid a thrashing infront everyone. All this was said with a smirk/smile on his face as if he had no real intention of fighting.

I my dream I had no fear and thought it would be interesting to see how Sting would react to someone standing up to him. I told him that most of the people here would have a nice story for their friends at work tomorrow once I knocked him on his "bum". Sting seemed shocked and began to try and change the subject by saying he was waiting for Rod Stewart. I started to laugh and said "Really ? Rod Stewart ?" Sting said yes and that Rod would take less kindly to my insolent behavior than he has. I then found a Cricket stick (do they call them sticks ?) leaning against a tree and said "well you better tell "Rod the Mod" that he better bring Ronnie Wood (the two were bandmates and famous sidekicks in the 70's) 'cuz I intend to beat all your "arses" with this thing." Sting stuttered and said that he was too civilized to take part in such behavior. I began to laugh and and imitated the smirk/smile that he'd given me revealing to him that I too had no real intention of fighting. I held out my hand in a gesture of friendship and Sting reeled in digust. "You're asking me to shake your hand ? I wouldn't be friends with the likes of you. I might have gave you the time of day if you followed through with your threat but not now." I was taken off guard and said "you mean that you would have offered to be my friend if we had actually fought ?" Disgusted with the whole turn of events Sting began to walk away and spat out over his shoulder "not bloody likely".

I stood there mildly dumbfounded. I was mad at myself for allowing Sting this small victory. I just wanted to point out to him that he had treated the grounds keeper poorly. That's what I get for not minding my own buisness I told myself. It was getting to be late afternoon so I decided to leave the picnic. I made my way through the people to a path that lead down a long hillside. To my left I could see the backyards of a long row of cottages, all with neatly kept gardens. It soon became dark and I began to feel that the path was starting to lead me in the wrong direction. I decided to leave the path and turned right, leading me down the steep slope of the hill. I made my way through some small shrubs and found myself in a more urban setting. I was walking down a sidewalk infront of a long row of old but well kept apartments. Each apartment had a very colorful flower garden near the steps to it's front door. I wasn't sure but I thought I had made my way to a suburban section of London. It was now night, very quiet and peaceful. There was a full moon and I could see all the stars in the sky, brighter than ever before. I continued walking for about a half hour or so when I heard voices giggling and chanting. The voices sounded small and faint. I looked to my left and saw that in one of the flowerbeds was a group of tiny goblins and miniture winged dragons dancing/stomping on the flowers in sort of a tribal dance. I stopped and looked right at them for what seemed like along time until I said "Hey, you know I can see you !". The little goblins and dragons stopped their mischevious dance only for a moment to look up at me and then continued their dance/stomp. Wiser from the days events I decided to mind my own business.

I started down the sidewalk again, knowing I would never see a sight like that again. From behind me came stong gust of wind and I suddenly felt two strong hands grasp my coat at the shoulders. For half a second I thought that my old friend Sting had made his way behind me, ready bash me with the cricket stick/bat that I jokingly threatened to use on him. That vision quickly left my mind and even though the strong pair of hands would not let me turn around I knew I wasn't being attacked. I quickly decided to trust who or whatever was behind me and let him/her/it guide me.

To my suprise I went neither forwards or backwards but up. I was being gently lifted skyward in circular pattern. I was lifted higher and higher, held in a way that might resemble and parent trying to teach a child the backstroke in a swimming pool. I felt no fear only trust and amazement. I looked down to my left and could see the impish little goblins and miniture winged dragons jumping up and down in glee smiling and waving to me. Knowing that they never meant me any harm I waved back. When my ride reached it's peak I was held still for a brief moment, allowed to look down onto the rooftops of London and then quickly whisked across the sky once again on my back. I still felt no fear and even though I was being guided I was overcome with a strong sense of freedom. As I flew across the sky I could see the stars perfectly. It made me wonder how long it had been since I really stopped to look at them. Not since I was a young boy was my answer. I soon crossed the bright light of the moon. I looked straight into it. In a gesture that really didn't suprise me the moon looked right back at me. " I knew there was a man in the moon " I said out loud. With that the moon gave me a cartoon wink and I woke up. I don't know what it all meant but I felt good. Take care, Nick.

Lynnette 12:01 AM

Wednesday, March 13

 

Bought the DVD for Say Anything tonight. I forgot how wonderful that movie is. I have forgotten what it's like to fall in love, for the first time. The feeling of wanting to give yourself to someone, to trust someone completely, that wonderful, sick, strange feeling you get when you believe in someone so much, to trust them with your heart.

I hope it happens again sometime soon. This time, on my own terms.

Lynnette 11:56 PM

Tuesday, March 12

 

S + E '91

Here's a great pic of S.S. doing a mock of Malkmus' solo album cover. Shit you gotta love this!

Lynnette 9:39 AM

 

Jesus I am fucking tired. I let myself sleep in again this morning, and didn't get to work until after nine. I remember having dreams about the bitch of a lawyer who works here, who is basically a robot with no interpersonal skills; she kept coming up to my computer and saying, "Now why aren't we working?" I kept telling her I was taking a break. But we all know this only works a couple times a day. Gee maybe I should watch myself at work, and not fuck around so much... shit.. speaking of.

Another part of a dream I remember is working part time at a record store (gee, really?) that was part of a strip mall of sorts. I remember being at working and needing to talk to my manager but he wasn't around. I told whoever was working that I would be right back. I went next door and realized I walked into a Wells Fargo where this girl I went to high school with was working as a teller. Back in high school she was the cheerleader who did everything perfect, dated (and later married) the president of student council, had perfect skin (or so I thought at the time), long blonde hair, and was "nice" to everybody. Deep down I was jealous of her; we were friends for awhile, but I would chalk that up to student council publicity. I walked in and my manager was talking to her. Her hair was awful, frizzy, and permed in really tight curls. She was also about 2 feet taller than I remember her being. I could tell she was just as nervous as I was to see someone from high school, because when she started to talk, she stuttered and her voice wavered a bit. "So, Lynnette, uh, well, what have you, uh, been doing since we graduated high school?" Then followed the question up with a classic perfect cheerleader smile. I thought about what I had been doing, forgot the question, and looked at my manager. He prompted me to answer: I'm doing good. Which doesn't make sense as an answer, but it was a very nervous response.

The dream was retarded and reminded me of how important I really thought looks were, especially in high school. I wasn't a fashion plate by any means (still am not) but I really thought the "popular" people had it made. Looking back, I think those people peaked our senior year, and after that could never live up to the "glory" of being on top of the class.

My ten-year high school reunion is next year. Insert scared/confused face here. I have a male friend who said he'd be my pseudo-date if I didn't have a boyfriend by the time it rolled around, but I'm even debating going. I look at it this way; if I didn't give a fuck what they thought of me then, why should it matter to me now? Part of me wants to show them up, but how "high-school" would that be? Plus, I have a good feeling the aforementioned cheerleader will be heading the committee to contact everyone. My friend dated her, and it would be really fucking bizarro.

Think I need more sleep. NO less, less sleep, better dreams.

Lynnette 9:20 AM

Monday, March 11

 

This has to be the biggest wish list for a birthday I have ever seen. What a freak! The thing that really bothers me about this list, is most of the artists he has on his CD list, he wants all their albums. Does he not have any of them? I am completely baffled.

Lynnette 9:51 AM

 

Concrete Blonde is playing here a week from this Thursday. Anyone wanna go with me?

Lynnette 9:12 AM

 

Friend calls me from work this morning. We chat. When it's time to leave she says to me:

"Better get back to work doing nothing and staring at the walls."

Lovely, eh? Monday at the Rumour Mill.

Lynnette 9:02 AM

Sunday, March 10

 

Two tickets to Ryan Adams: $52.00

Two beers in plastic cups: $9.00

Going with your best-friend to see one of her favourite musicians live, and yelling "MOTORHEAD!" from the cheap seats: priceless.

Lynnette 11:45 PM

Saturday, March 9

 

Last night was a blast. Went to a friend's going away party; how he managed to leave the place we work at amazes me. Thad!! How did you do it? Help me!! Well, my friend and I got there around 7:30, a lot later than we had planned. We had already seen cars slide around on the main streets, and pulling away from a cash machine I almost couldn't stop my car.

When we left, we found that my car, not to mention all of Lincoln, was completely iced over with a touch of snow. I unlocked the car, but couldn't pull the handle open. Unfortunately, we both left our coats in the car to prevent them from getting smoke-filled, so my friend sat outside freezing while I attempted to "break" through the ice. I remembered the hatch, and that I had to get in through the back once before in cold weather. Of course all the junk, old CDs I couldn't sell, and toys in my backseat fell victim to my heavy, crunching, snow-soaked converse. Yes! I made it in the car! But where were my keys. Somehow, don't ask how, I had dropped my keys in my excitement at actually making it into the car. I tried to push the doors from the inside, while my friend pulled. No luck. After finding my keys I held open the hatch while she climbed in. We threw our coats on, and a couple of various clothing items that were floating around in my car. Then we had to sit in my car for, literally, 45 minutes while the car warmed up, and melted the ice. The best part of it all was laughing through the adventure. There was a moment when I became scared I could not get out of the car (iced in, couldn't find keys), and my friend couldn't get in the car (no coat, freezing ass off), but all in all we had fun.

We ended up stopping for gas to ensure my few drops of gas wouldn't freeze, and got some delicious, HOT, decaf french vanilla white-trash coffee for the cost of a smile. We drove home, freezing except for our hands wrapped around the all-too-thin coffee cups.

Yes, it was a blast. I didn't even mind the below zero wind chill.

Lynnette 9:07 AM

Friday, March 8

 

I had a nightmare about some people wanting to kill my entire family; as in my original nuclear family: my brother, my mom, and my dad. It was great! ahem... Well the good thing is I know where the dream stemmed from. Last night, after a late phone call, I laid in bed wide awake for almost an hour. Resisting the temptation to call my friend back, just to talk his ear off, I let my mind wander. Unfortunately, my mind didn't wander toward slumberland. Instead it worried about getting things done, wasting time.

It started with thinking going out for sushi the next day (this evening), then about using chopsticks, then wondering why more people don't use chopsticks in both hands like metal utensils, then I thought of the motion you make with you hands when you eat with chopsticks, then I thought of the Lobster Boy, a deformed man who murdered his entire family in the 40s or 50s. I imagine my gruesome dream came from this thread of random, semi-connected thoughts.

Lynnette 11:25 AM

Thursday, March 7

 

First thing I said out loud this morning:

"Black darkness? What the fuck is that?" This was in response to a conversation the bubbly morning DJs were having about how they like their coffee. One quipped that he liked his coffee black, so black that you could see the black darkness swirling around. To which I responded aloud, to no one, my above comment. Then I stubbed my toe on a chair that's been in my hallway for a month, and found out that laces from one of my converse were dipped in a cup of tea that was on the floor next to my computer desk, just like a pen in an inkwell. Welcome to my morning!

At lunch today, my friend Candice asked me how much money I would have to be paid to relive my high school experience. Stipulations being: you would be that age again, you would know you were reliving it, but would have to say/do/act/experience everything exactly the same as you did when you were in high school the first time. At first, I said tens of thousands. She said one billion. I thought about it: alienation, bad haircuts, poor fashion statements, losing friends, making enemies, being insulted by your crushes, the divorce, parents, friends getting pregnant, dropping out, smokers, liquid lunch kids, art class, low self-esteem, and the flat chest.

Then we both settled on the final price: $10 billion, to go through it all over again.

Lynnette 12:24 PM

Wednesday, March 6

 

As it turns out, I am slowly going crazy. I need a break, a vacation, a trip, a moment elsewhere. Ideas that are feasible are Los Angeles (Dale or Viet), Portland (Abe), Denver (Amy), Buffalo (Paul), NYC (favourite cousin). Of all of those places, I would most like to visit California, however, Los Angeles would not be my ideal city for my first impression of the state. I want to see San Francisco, San Diego.

Shit, I gotta get away! Mom, send me a plane ticket for my birthday, please. OH wait! Tax refund. I could use my tax refund. Oh job and a half. Hmm.. mmm.

Lynnette 11:18 AM

Tuesday, March 5

 

Desaparecidos finalmente ha desaparecido

Simple translation: Desaparecidos has finally disappeared. At least for the moment. I think last week when I kept telling people, sheesh.. I wish Desaparecidos would just desaparece, it worked. The bassist wussed out. Read the article here: Ding Dong the Desaparecidos is Dead. Thanks to the Aarons for the link.

Lynnette 8:55 AM

 

I am 34% lazy. I'm not sure if I should be proud, ashamed? Well, smartypants, how about you?

Lynnette 8:43 AM

Monday, March 4

 

Nothing happening. Quiet night at home on Monday. Had plans to watch Red Violin with a friend, but he was pooped. I'm glad; I wanted to relax at home anyway. I'm debating having my site hosted on a server just so I have more freedom with it. Aah the freedom of being an american consumer. (I still think the government has too much power.)

Lynnette 9:42 PM

 

DREAM: John Lennon, Richard Pryor, Tom Tollefsen

Again, this is another dream I had over the weekend but finally have time to post it. What a great job I have!
In my dream I woke up to my alarm clock going off. In waking life, I never wake up to a buzzer, it's always the radio, and my dream was no different. The radio came on to a news flash, John Lennon had been shot. It was pitch black in my bedroom, and I could only see the red electronic numbers on my clock. I laid there until the news clip was over. I couldn't believe someone had shot Lennon. Then got out of bed and got dressed. A friend called and wanted to pick me up; there was a museum or display at the Dakota Hotel they wanted to go see. I remember running down an alley, being pulled by the hand into a building that was very tall and very narrow. As we went inside the front door we saw people lined up everywhere, sitting on the floor, waiting. We found out there was a 2-hour wait to see the room. I'm assuming it was where John Lennon was staying. To pass the time I took a quiz, from my new job. It was a quiz about the sale we had at the record store this last weekend. The first question was: Is all Homer's stock 20% to 30% off everyday. I of course said no, and figured the rest of the test would be a piece of cake. Somehow I failed, and resigned myself to paying attention to the rules since a close friend of mine was my boss. My friend got tired of waiting so we went out into the street which was covered in thick, wet, slushy snow. Far off down the street something was coming, nothing specific, just something bad, something ominous we had to get away from. I ran to a house across from the Dakota, and laid down on the ground next to the cement foundation. The house itself was situated above the foundation. I mean there was a small gap, just large enough to squeeze your body between the house and the foundation. I pushed myself through sideways, and my legs dangled into the basement. On the street above I heard what appeared to be a motorcycle gang pass by. I took my hands off the edge and let myself fall, but the floor didn't come when I expected it to. I fell twice as far as I thought I would, which startled me. At first, I really thought it was bottomless. The brick walls of the basement had been whitewashed, and because of it there was a slight glow about the place. It wasn't depressive, just empty; I still wanted out. I jumped up again and again but somehow I couldn't reach the top to pull myself up and back onto the sidewalk. Richard Pryor walked by and stuck his head in through the gap just to laugh at me, in typical Pryor fashion. Richard Pryor laughed for quite awhile until I talked back to him, asked him how to get out of the basement. He stopped laughing long enough to tell me there were bricks along the North wall that were stacked like stairs. Sure enough, there were and I climbed out of the basement. I had to meet my friend Tom somewhere.

Tom and I had just gotten out of a movie theatre, and he was walking quickly with his head down, not talking. I was doing a slight job next to him in order to keep up because he was/is quite a tall boy. I kept asking how he was, but he wouldn't respond, then he took off running towards his car. I tried to run after him yelling ahead, "Tom, can I have a ride home? Can I have a ride?" He ran to his VW Jetta, a silver one, and peeled out. People that had been walking on the sidewalks stopped to look at me. I was left standing in the middle of the street, up to my ankles in thick, wet, slushy snow.

Lynnette 9:40 AM

 

DREAM: Espionage, Purple toothbrushes, Blood

This is actually a dream I had last Thursday night, but I've only have time now to post it. I'm actually surprised that I remembered it for this long.
Naturally, most of the dream is gone except for a single vivid scene. Upstairs bedroom in this really nice house, I am a third party to conversation between what is probably a man and a wife. They have no clue I'm there; it's almost as if I'm watching a movie, and have no interaction with the people I see. The room is plain, but large. Since it's upstairs the roof is slanted downward, and a large skylight exists in place of the roof. It is nighttime, or at least there is barely any sun leaking in. The couple starts to argue, something very intense, perhaps political, but definitely very dangerous. There is talk of spies, his former work, and he demands that he is no longer killing people. As they are talking I become aware of people on the roof, walking around, but trying to remain silent. They continue to argue, and he walks over to the wall opposite the bed where there is an entire row of toothbrushes, in all different colours. From one end to the other they are cascaded in size, like a xylophone. He takes a purple one second from the end, and brushes his teeth. She continues to yell, and I'm aware of the fact that someone, a spy perhaps, is being murdered on the roof. The man knows this is happening, but the wife does not. Then I am the wife, and the man and I are kissing on the bed, which is set slightly under the sloping skylight. (I should note here: that the aliteration with S was entire an accident.) I am on top, and while I am kissing him, a puddle of blood creeps across the floor, spilling in from a crack in the skylight. I see my reflection and know I have to keep kissing him so he won't see the blood. (This dream disturbed me, too.)

Lynnette 9:22 AM

Friday, March 1

 

I fucked up my site. Boy am I pissed off.

Lynnette 2:05 PM

 

Roots are nice

This week has been Lynnette's tired week. I started a new part-time job at a local record store, which took up a couple of my nights this week. I've really only worked twice, but I think it's a pretty good indication of what's to come. One morning, I woke up and realized that my heater quit working over night. Now if you live on the coast, or the semi-tropics, you're probably thinking big deal! Well, I live in Nebraska, the asshole of the Midwest, and right now it's about 15 degrees out with a wind-chill of one below zero. I called my landlord about 9am, and went to work, trusting that he would fix it sometime throughout the day. After working both jobs, I ended up at home around 1030pm to find that my heater was still broken. I ended up having to stay at a friend's house to mooch the heat (thanks). It was fixed the next day after I called to harass them, about the impending snow storm, and the fact that I would be needing heat later that night.

Had lunch today with my friends Brigette and Thad. I worked with both of them at one point, Thad's last day is today, and Brigette quit almost a year ago. She also brought her two month old son, Carl, along for the ride. That kid is so fat, rests his face on his three chins, but he's adorable. I was playing with him, touching his hair, his soft, little hands, and then realized Thad and Brigette were staring at me. "You want one, don't you?", one of them asked. I thought about it. Yeah, I probably do. Someday.

It's just weird to think about getting older, about the things you like to do when you're younger, and things you enjoy. They morph as you age. I still enjoy going to shows, and have a couple of drinks with friends. But I can't stay out all night like I did when I was 19. How in the world did I pull "all-nighters" in college? Going to shows and then sitting at Shakes Cafe (a coffee shop, now defunct) and complaining about the ringing in our ears. How did I drink, and keep down, 7 sapphire tonics at the Granada Club and get propositioned by a rock star? How did I do that?

I remember staying up until 7am with my friend Candice while she created 40 passable watercolours for a university class. She called me that night and said she needed help staying awake. We had soda, but caffeine can only sustain a person for so long before the mind goes. I was there to maintain sanity. (All of you who know me, laugh now.) I watched the Joy Luck Club, and danced around to Galaxie 500. Then I got bored and watched the Joy Luck Club again. I'm pretty sure I had classes that next day, too. How the fuck did I do that?

I remember another time with my buddy Amy, completely sober, awake until 630am listening to the Ween song "Pollo Asado" over and over, nearly at full volume. Were her neighbors deaf, or scared? Then I had to work at 8am, and I did. How the fuck did I do that?

Brigette had Carl sitting on the table, facing her. For the most part he was quiet, then he got sleepy. His face was turned in toward her neck; one hand gripping her sleeve, the other clinging to the collar of her shirt. He looked so peaceful. It just floored me to think about the amount of love and trust that existed between Brigette and her son. That instantaneous, unquestioned love.

It's weird to think about being almost 27. Some of my friends are married, and tell me how wonderful it is. Some of those friends have kids, and tell me how wonderful it is to have kids. Then I think about going home to my cat and my cold apartment, and I wonder how long I'll be happy with the situation I have in life right now. I don't mean to sound down about myself; I'm not. I'm actually at a very happy time in my life, I have a lot of freedom; I'm just staying roots are nice.

Lynnette 1:44 PM