. . . Tupperware Cities . . .

Monday, September 30

 

DREAM: Winter Business with the Sopranos

Last night I dreamt I was hanging out with Christopher Moltisanti from the Sopranos. He and I were in a Midwest residential neighborhood in the dead of winter doing some business. Yeah, we were a'stealin'. There was so much snow on the ground that all sounded was muffled. The only light was street lamps, since the moon was new. The first job we did was in a house that was set right on the edge of a cement hill, so when the job was done, the only way to get out of there was to fold a blanket in half, drape it down the hill and slide down. This way we didn't get scraped up or make any noises that would have allowed us to get caught. We continued Santa-style to each house down the street, gathering more loot. Where it was stored, I don't know. All I know is I was making bank, and it was fun.

Later on I was in the office, surrounded by like-minded people, in the "family" business. A young Italian boy came in and asked to sing the Pledge of Allegiance. I didn't bat an eye, but first went to the boss to ask if I should announce it over the P.A. so all activity would stop. I made the announcement and then stood with several other people who were starting to gather at the flag. Everyone else was saluting as they sang, and I had my opposite hand over my heart. The song sounded strange to me, since I had never heard the Pledge of Allegiance sang, only recited. After the song I went back behind my desk to find a yellow spiraled notebook and a textbook I had borrowed from someone at school. Unfortunately, I had borrowed them from the wrong student. This was Justin Fitch's stuff, not my friend. I had never even met Justin, and apparently I only know this person in my dream state. I helped customer after customer, wondering and worrying how I was going to return his books; I didn't have his locker combo, and I wasn't close friends with him. A few minutes passed as I worked and worried, and a tall blonde guy came up to the counter who looked exactly like Jennifer Fitch, who I was friends with (in my dreams). I said to him, you're Justin Fitch, I was wondering how to get these things back to you, but now I can stop worrying. I then presented him with his yellow spiral notebook and textbook. His look told me he didn't even know they had been missing.

I left with some "family" business partners, all women, to do some more jobs. This time it got a little botched, and we all had to get outta there fast. We were all on ice skates, and the sidewalks and streets were covered, intermittently, with ice and puddles of water covered with a hint of ice. I hit a puddle and for several blocks couldn't get my footing. We managed to get out of sight and hid on a bridge, overlooking a river which was flowing snow instead of water.

Lynnette 12:36 PM

Thursday, September 26

 

In the tradition that is Prince, I have decided to starting Raving Un 2 things that I like. For example, this morning I am Raving Un 2 some delicious coffee with cream and sugar. I do not, however, Rave Un 2 my job.

Lynnette 9:01 AM

Wednesday, September 25

 

I am still mourning the death of Pavement the rock band. On the way to work this morning I sang my heart out to Brighten the Corners. I saw them aplenty, live, but it still makes me sad. Neat.

I am also mourning the loss of many many things on my hard drive. Last week my computer decided to be, well, done. Luckily I have a computer-wiz step-brother who restored it, gave me more memory and Windows 2000 all for $20 bucks. Which is nice, but I lost my Sims family, and all the mp3s we hadn't burned yet. Ahh, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.

Minneapolis trip with the bitches is planned for October 18th. Calhoun here I come!

Lynnette 9:03 AM

Tuesday, September 24

 

DREAM: Too Much Buffy

I was living in an atypical basement. One that had warehouse-height ceilings, yet the windows were still situated at the very top of the wall, as in typical basements. I was a boy in my late teens, 19 maybe. Everything I could see had a dull blue-gray tint, even skin, especially my skin. The room and my body felt cold, but it wasn't uncomfortable, it felt normal. I looked around to find a girl sitting on the floor, blood coming from her neck, and it was then that I realized I was dreaming I was a vampire, probably Angel. It was pretty cool.

My mother, who was the actress who plays Buffy the Vampire Slayer's mom, was at work, and I was lounging in the basement with my friends, apparently snacking on this girl. I looked like a corpse with my blue skin and I felt like one, but nothing hurt me. The girl expired uneventfully and I walked across the floor, across scattered shards of glass. I went into the bathroom and started to pull the glass out of my right foot, and dispose of the pieces in the tub. Even though I was cold, blue and dead, my foot bled thick crimson. (I'm not trying to be a fag poet, that's what color it was, see). Someone came into the bathroom with me, asking about the glass pieces embedded in my foot. I said in all seriousness that each piece represented the people that I had loved, and subsequently lost. The person looked at me and asked if I had really loved all those people. The seriousness faded into sarcasm as I replied, "Yeah right." I was a fucking vampire, who did they think they were asking me such things?

I poured iodine on my foot to stop the bleeding and the rest of my dream my foot was reddish-orange. My foot was reddish-orange while the rest of me was blue-gray. I never wore any shoes as a vampire, so the blood from the left over glass still left footprints, right footprints, all over the floor behind me.

My mom came home and drilled me about where I had been and what I was wearing and who was I with. She hadn't the slightest clue I was a vampire, and I didn't want her to. I made up some bullshit about living in San Francisco with some friends, and that I would probably never be coming back to see her.

Lynnette 12:05 PM

Monday, September 23

 

Behold the first day of Autumn, my favorite season. 'Tis also the season that Candice holds dearest to her heart. Here ya go bitch:

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leafs a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
Robert Frost

Lynnette 2:33 PM

 

DREAM: Log Amusement Park, Furniture Cream Dream

Last night I dreamt I was taken to an amusement park in Colorado. The "rides" were rustic, having wooden parts, some of the games involving jumping moving logs and such. One game had me jumping through puddles over logs that were swinging back and forth from chains held up by the hovering trees. After I played the game and got through the ride, I realized the fun for that day was over, and it was time to get to studying. It was around 8 pm and I figured I would rent a dorm room for the night on campus rather than trudging home to Steve through the bad weather. I went into my room and sat down, ready to study. Then I realized how fucking loud the building was; there were yelling kids in the hallway and the walls were so thin they seemed to be comprised of tissue-paper and spit. In my backpack I found 2 Star Wars audio CDs, volumes 4 and 5, which I knew Steve needed for his test in the morning. That coupled with the noise was enough to convince me to high-tail it home. I headed home to my boy.

The next night I was in another building with a grand room with cathedral ceilings. Everything in the room was white/beige marble, even the floor. The ceiling was all glass making the area extremely bright. It was a modern art museum I had never been to, but had items that I had lusted after for years. The main floor was littered with furniture by Van der Rohe, Le Corbusier, Charles and Ray Eames, and Eero Aarnio. The designs were unfettered, mostly black leather, but some appropriately bright yellow, orange, blue, and brown. Good solid 70s tones that would work in my home. There was a crowd behind me, but they were just as silent as I was. The show began with a burst of water coming from the marbled floor, like a geyser. It shot a chair into the air on a round platform, and then a couch, and then they were all supported by the water beams. The motion of the water tilted the platform in circles, and all the furniture, now on wheels, were spinning around the platforms so the guests could see the pieces from all angles. It was heaven.

Lynnette 12:18 PM

Tuesday, September 17

 

Note the usage of the following words:

You're a tad on the recalcitrant side. Contraction of you and are.

I want to assemble my antique schooner in your garage. This is the possessive form, used to represent ownership.

The tingling sensation began after their smashed automobile was pried off my severed body. This is the possessive form, used to represent ownership.

When romping near a wooded brook one must be keenly aware of what sorts of animals live there. This shows placement or location, such as here and there.

Try spending an evening with the Robinson family, and you too will find they're quite a bore. Again, kids, we have a contraction of words: they and are.

Yes this is necessary. If you could witness the plethora of grammatical atrocities I find spewing out of "educated" adults, you would be sick to your tummy as well.

Lynnette 8:39 AM

Sunday, September 15

 

As Jamie Williams once said, "Fuck you, you're ugly.".........

and in the time honored tradition of The Wizard of Oz, "...and your little dog, too."

Lynnette 9:19 PM

Saturday, September 14

 

I bowled a 148 today.

Lynnette 5:17 PM

 

I dreamt I was walking around a seedy part of Omaha, when I came across a magazine/graphic novel called Nightcrawler. On the cover was an image taken from the movie Waking Life. I asked my friend what he thought it was, he was clueless as well. We read the story together, which told of a domestic violence episode in that same neighborhood. After reading the magazine we threw it on the ground. A guy walked up to us and asked where we got the magazine; he had created it. I told him where I found it and what I had just read. Then he pointed to a building behind us where it all was happening at that moment. We heard screaming, and a man came out, blood everywhere.

Then I dreamt there was an antique clothing store in which I was shopping with Candice and her friend Laura. I really had to go pee, badly, so the saleswoman directed me to a back room. When I entered the room I found it was full of toilets that were set out on a grass hill that was setting at a 45 degree angle upwards. I could pick any toilet I wanted to use (for some odd reason this is not the first multiple toilet dream I'vd had). I used the first row, first toilet since I had to go so bad. While I peed Candice and Laura pounded on the wall and yelled for me to hurry.

I also dreamt the other night that I was back in college, but not as a student, rather as a student trainer, or someone who helped the kids get their poop in a group. This was probably due to the fact that several people at work have been asking me about college, because they are thinking about finishing, or starting, their degrees. There was a hallway I was sitting in with a professor. I had to bring him a box with a floppy disk in it. The disk was for a student who was going to fail. Some reason I didn't feel bad about delivering the disk. I figured if they flunked out it was due to their own negligence. Christ on a cruch, college was easy; how can you fuck it up?!

Haven't been posting because basically I've been busy. I have to make my job look as good as possible on paper before I start looking for a job in Minneapolis.

Lynnette 9:59 AM

Wednesday, September 11

 

This is the first photograph I ever took. I was five my brother was around 2, my dad was still bearded.

Lynnette 3:30 PM

Monday, September 9

 

DREAM: Postmodern slasher film by Ethan Hawke, Minneapolis, Skating Party

So like yeah. Candice and I were sitting in a darkened theatre, although the film had not started yet. I got bored waiting so I started reading a book. Usually in my dreams if I’m reading a book or conducting a symphony I can never remember details. This time though I remembered a single wonderful sentence: “The woman was thrown into the pool with the shark and was eaten in a manner not unlike Amelie may have eaten her birthday cake: in one bite.” In my dream I remember being glad that I could actually read in my dream, and not just be going through the motions. Continuing, the movie began, and the credits started to roll. I wanted to keep reading so Candice read the credits aloud to me. The title was something bizarre like “Maizechenka: a slasher film by Ethan Hawke, 2002 All Rights Reserved, Permanent Edition. Permanent Edition meant that the film was released under the same premise that Citizen Kane was; that it could never be edited colorized or modified in any way, shape or form. The film was gory, off-kilter, and just plain weird. After the movie I took off for Minneapolis.

Steve (a.k.a. Bill Patterson) was already living in Minneapolis and I went there to meet him. We went down to campus and sat in the amphitheatre outside of the engineering building. Someone was filming a movie, and we were fortunate enough to be there for the first shoot of the day. Several people lined up at the top of the amphitheatre, said some lines and then pulled parachutes out of nowhere and glided down over the crowd that had gathered. Some of the children did get that much of a jump at the top, so they glided low, so low you could touch their feet as they went by. I planned on staying in Minneapolis for the weekend, but I had brought my cat with me, and Steve’s dog Guinness was there, harassing him. It was 6pm when I left, but I knew it was going to be a late trip.

I went to a skating rink for my 27th birthday, which has of course come and gone. My friend Eryn from work was there, too, skating around with me. I was wearing a 70s terrycloth strapless dress that I had to keep hiking up. I couldn’t reserve the rink for my party alone so there were other kids, mostly junior high age, skating circles around us. I still had it in my though, circles, skids, stopping; I was a great skater, just as I am in waking life.

Lynnette 8:24 AM

Sunday, September 8

 

If an album has an average of 12 songs, we have 109 albums waiting to be burned from our hard drive. This leads me to believe A) if our computer crashed, it would be very sad; and B) we are too lazy to install our new burner. That aside, here's the dream.

DREAM: Sandwich shop Mafia, Colombia business trip

I went to work one day to find out that most of the employees had been given first class tickets to Colombia to attend a conference on South American coffee practices. I was sick the day they chose the roster for the trip, and was left out. I spoke Spanish, and the opportunity to travel to Colombia wouldn't come up every day; needless to say I was disappointed. Blah blah I went and talked to my Uncle who was in the Mafia, he talked to some people. I went back to work and found a first class ticket waiting for me. It was 1pm and the plane to Colombia left at 530pm. I packed clothes frantically, and left. The end.

Lynnette 12:32 PM

Saturday, September 7

 

DREAM: Plethora of antique records, Westworld house in space

I went into a basement and found myself walking through the stacks of the largest antique record collection that ever existed. The records were all packaged like victrola records: thick, black vinyl sleeved in forest green paper. Walking around the basement I passed other people; they looked just as amazed as I was. There were turntables in each room so you could preview your selections. I a back room, far off from the main shelves, there was a stack of broken records. Apparently, at least in my dream, broken and warped records were collectible. The bottom shelf had examples of turntables housing these "off" records, including photos from the fifties showing people standing, jumping, and breaking records across their knee. These damaging actions only added to the value of the record.



I was being shown around my new house, which was seemingly in space, or rather not connected to the world on Earth directly, only via phone. It was my own Westworld home. It was set up in a symmetrical square fashion, the front door being on one side of the house in the center. There were two floors and one set of stairs in the very middle of the house. I was taken on a tour along the rooms on the perimeter first. There were no walls separating rooms, however, they were designed with counter tops that were different colors every 4 or 5 feet or so. I was shown upstairs, which was almost identical in style to the first floor, although the square footage was slightly less. The tour guides told me there could only be four phones in the house, which sounds like a lot but this house was absolutely huge. I didn't mind only four phones; after all, it would only be myself living there. It was also pointed out that the phones could only sit on countertops and areas that were decorated yellow, and no other color. I took it in stride; nothing seemed to bother me. In the attic there were researchers and scientists working on a way to detach my house from its harbor, ya know, in space. The only way they could sever the ties was with this super heat/light lamp. The lamp looked just like a fluorescent tube about one foot long. Only 2 or 3 inches of this tube allowed light to escape from it. Anything you wanted to burn had to touch this small area. It was so bright that it could only be held onto the dock directly for 6 seconds time, and then it required 90 seconds for a cool down. It took them several hours to complete this process, but after it was done I was able to fold up the remaining dock sections onto my house and I was free to float in space.

Lynnette 8:22 AM

Thursday, September 5

 

Yo! A "shout out" to my "homies". I had to "change" my "email" because it was getting "spammed". "Thank you" hotmail. If you wanna tell me something interesting use my Roadrunner email. It's fabulous!

Also, I learned out the internal combustion engine works today on www.howstuffworks.com. Rad.

Lynnette 7:31 PM

 

How does one politely skip a pancake feed?

We all have our irrational fears. Mine would be grasshoppers, Christians, and shopping carts.

Insects have always fascinated me and to this day I’ll get on the ground and watch them. But there is something about grasshoppers, the way they cling, that scares the shit out of me. Christians, primarily because I don’t want to offend them. For example, I work in a building half-owned by the “Back to the Bible” group. This morning they want our office to attend a pancake feed. I don’t like pancakes, and furthermore I can’t have that much sugar in the morning. Further furthermore I don’t want them to ask me about religion; it’s my personal business that I prefer not to discuss with anyone. Like the Christians who came to my door handing out pamphlets. I said, “No thank you, I am an atheist.” Smiled a sincere smile and shut the door. Not before he could say in disbelief, “Is that so….” I felt bad for having to disappoint them, but the whole idea of proselytizing really chaps my hide. Shopping carts are obviously the most irrational fear. I think when I was a kid I was goofing off in a grocery store and got my heels stuck under a shopping cart that had crept up behind me. To this day if I hear a shopping cart close behind me I have to stick my arm out, to save myself from getting sucked under the cart, having my heels clipped, or otherwise getting run over.

Lynnette 7:54 AM

 

DREAM: High School football, Indie-rock

This was from last night. I woke up around 6am and thought I could sleep in another hour. Instead I lay awake thinking, which pushed some, if not most, of my dream out of my memory. This is the best I could do.

There was a stadium near my house where high school football was going on. The stadium walls were so high that you could see inside from the grass outside, where most everyone had their blankets and picnics laid out. I walked over to a couple friends of mine from high school; one of them may have been Candice, the other was Tony Lindquist, this guy she and I used to know. They had three very different afghans laid out on the grass, pieced together like Frankenstein. I laid down, not feeling very comfortable. Lee Schaefer, this very unattractive boy I went to high school with was grabbing asses. Once I rolled over to make myself more comfortable and he grabbed mine. I was up front about it, told him never to do it again. I got bored with that scene; I am not a football fan unless it’s the super-corporate-sell-out-with-great-commercials-superbowl. (But hey I’m a baseball fan….)

I got up and walked over to the end of the street into the culdesac, where we had left the car. I wasn’t as concerned with finding the car as I was the group of four boys who were standing just on the other side of the street. In my dream it was the band Slint, however, I know that Jason Noble is not a babe. Alas, Nathan from Trans Am is in fact fucking hot, and for some reason was in Slint for my dream. I tried to get their attention, jumping up and down “inconspicuously”, singing to myself, and finally my moat antics. Yes, moat antics. Just off the culdesac was a muddy, shallow, lake, or rather a large puddle. There was what used to be a white, crescent-shaped couch floating on the surface. I started rocking back and forth on it, again singing loudly. Candice the bitch and Amy the crackbaby showed up. I pointed out the fact that Nathan from Trans Am was across the street with 3 boys. After that we managed to get their attention.

Lynnette 7:23 AM

Monday, September 2

 

DREAM: Shitty Rommies, New York City, Petty Theft

I was living in a house with a group of people, like I did in 1994. This dream is probably brought about because I passed an old roommate at Blockbuster last night. In my dream I had this antique candlestick phone, which I kept plugged in and set on the kitchen countertop. One day I came home to find the phone had been unplugged and left in my bedroom, on top of my dresser. My bedroom in my dream was my brother's room at my parents' house. I went downstairs to have a yogurt, only to find that someone had not only eaten all of my yogurt but left the lids, sticky side up, on the metal shelves in the fridge. I wrote a nasty note, addressed to Kevin Pollack, slob, and stuck it on the front door with a magnet. He was sure to see it when he got home.

I was in New York City with Candice. (Bitch, maybe we need to go sooner??) We were shopping around St. Mark's Place, when she remembered that her friend Jamie Williams worked at a clothing store there. We stopped in, and I had to check my large black dufflebag. (This was because we were watching the third season of Sopranos and Tony Soprano dropped off money in a huge black dufflebag.) Jamie ended up not being there due to a sick day, so Candice wandered back to the breakroom to say hi to the other workers. There was a guy sitting at a table, eating empanadas and Mexican sweet rolls. He offered us some and I took a Mexican pastry that was sprialed up like a cinnamon roll and had vanilla powdered sugar covering the top. I started eating it but realized it was too dry in my mouth. I tried to ask for water but my mouth and lips were too dry. I sort of started laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, and then finally Candice brought me a glass of water.

Later, again in New York City, Bill Patterson and I were walking out of a club. My friend Tom was on his way in. In my dream I remembered that he was staying there to visit his brother, a lawyer. I was excited to see him and walked over to get a hug. Instead he stuck his hand out; his excuse was not wanting to hug me in front of my boyfriend. He blushed, embarrassed because he didn't expect to be seeing me, and I shook his hand politely. Bill Patterson and left the club and started walking down the sidewalk. Even though it was pitch black night out, the streets were packed. On the sidewalk we found an apparently abandoned magazine stand. We found two magazines we wanted, then he wrote a $20 dollar check. As it turned out that check would only cover one of the magazines so we acted like we wrote a larger check and stole the second zine. BP had been carrying an empty tire swing, so we hid the zines in there and walked down the street. Yeah it's bad I know, but that's why we have dreams; to do shit that we can't do in waking life, and to control what we can't control in waking life.

Lynnette 9:07 AM

Sunday, September 1

 

DREAM: Jungle Commune, In the Army, Hating Elvis

I dreamt I was living in a type of commune, fairly modern, somewhere in a wooded area, like the Rockies. Candice was also there. The commune was confined within this extremely high fence, taller than the ancient trees that surrounded and were inside our commune; 500 feet tall or so. The fence actually looked just like the fence in the original 1933 King Kong; they one around the village that hides from Kong. Out front there were these huge poles, just as tall as the fence. Near the bottom they were so wide I couldn't get my arms around them. It was Alan Alda's job to paint brown over the metal, so it would fit in with the jungle surroundings; yes, now it was a jungle. Anyway, the director of the commune put out the word that there would be a trip to Guatemala soon; apparently I missed the notice. Candice was chosen, and she was thrilled. I was ticked off, not at my bitch, but at the director; I wanted to go, afterall, I was the one who spoke Spanish!! Candice returned from the 10 day trip, not having learned a lick of Spanish but really enjoying the city. She and I sat at a common table with a boy and she told us about the trip. It wasn't much of a culture shock for her, since it was the big city. That's when I told the boy it was probably because Candice and I were city girls, we had both been to New York City and thought, okay we can deal. (In fact only I have been to NYC, my bitch Candice has not.)

I got bored with the commune and joined the Army in Hawaii. It was a laid back Army; my job was to move those square gallons of ice cream. In my bra I stood up against a stack of ice cream gallons. It felt cold against my stomach. That was what the Army was teaching me; experiencing everything for what it was worth rather than how I should be expected to react. Prior to joining the Army I would have jumped back in pain at how cold the ice cream was, but now it was just another thing to experience. I didn't get yelled at in the Army, and my bed was extremely comfortable. On my last night there was a party, and we were all taking turns eating, dancing, and deciding what to pack. My area had become cluttered with books and oscillating fans, the weather having been so hot during my stint there. I found one fan that had an A/C setting on it, but after showing everyone my discovery I realized it belonged to Alan Alda, or rather Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce. I gave it back. Another soldier came over and asked me to help her decide whether or not to buy some bookshelves. I took one look at them and told her it was bad investment. The bookshelves were shoddy, mismatched. They wouldn't match anything in her apartment, and wouldn't last more than a year. Aside from being overpriced they were ugly. I went back to the party to eat. There was empanadas with powdered surgar, strawberries, avocado slices, sour cream, tomatoes, and little tiny tortilla chips that were flexible. I made a tiny taco in my hand and sat down to eat. One of the girls wanted to give me a memento of my stay in Hawaii. It was a framed photograph, a still scene from one of Elvis Presley's Hawaiian flicks. I didn't know how to tell them I hated Elvis. I figured it was my last night there, and this was no time for dishonesty. I thanked her but told her I couldn't accept it. She persisted, handing it back. I told her I hated Elvis; the party goers gasped, and then realized I was still okay, even though I hated Elvis Presley.

Lynnette 9:57 AM