A Shot of Crystal Meth

The other night I had a dream that I was with my friend Wendy, standing on the front stoop of somebody's house. This guy I know cam up to us, looking all shady, and held out a tiny silver shot glass. It was "a shot of crystal meth" and Wendy and I were supposed to share it. I decided not to take it, since I had to go to work soon. I'm so boring...

Dirty Cocaine, Making Out, Band Trip

My little sister was acting like an a-hole. I figured out it was because she was doing the cocaine. I asked her about it and she explained it was "dirty cocaine" so you had to cut it VERY carefully to make sure there were no "fingernails" or human particles in it. (This makes me want to barf). Nevertheless, I tried some and then regretted it, as I was about to embark on a band/orchestra trip because I was suddenly in high school again.

The orchestra trip was like a work conference with lots of team builders. There was one activity we did that was like "red light, green light" and everyone was annoyed that we had to do it. There were 2 cute girls in the room that I had my eye on. We had a 5 minute break, so I went to buy a drink for a cute girl. I ran outside to a bar next door. Their menu had fancy martinis on it for only $4 or $5 - I wanted to get 2 "marshmallow fluff martinis" but the waitress was being slow, so I ran back to the group, sans drinks. Finally the activity was done, and I asked a cute girl if she wanted to hang out with me.

She was like "yes" and started making out with me! It was cool. Then we were in Philadelphia but did not know where to go. So I asked my friend Matt who lives there where to go - we stopped by his house. He was making an extremely tall structure out of cardboard and it looked amazing. I don't think I got to make out anymore.

Lia's Dream

My friend Lia told me her dream over a gmail chat this morning. Short and Sweet:

Lia: Oh, I have to tell you about a crazy dream I had the other night...Th to Fri. I was at your house and there was a group of people there and we were "smoking" pot. But the way we were "smoking" was that there was a glass of water with weed in it and someone would take a sip, gargle, and pass. Totally disgusting!

Busted!

I had an awful dream last night that I was throwing a huge party at a club (which I am in a couple weeks) and I was walking out midway through it to go to the McDonald's across the street (which I totally wouldn't do). As I'm walking out, I see police walking in.

Fuck. I know there is pot everywhere. So I run back inside and tell my cousin Laith to start taking care of the mess before the police get inside. I meet the police at the door and turn on my dealing-with-police charm. They are friendly to me and say that they don't want make trouble, but they smell pot so that gives them the right to come inside.

I let them in, I have no other choice. Miraculously, the party which is now in my house and not the club, is immaculate. The house is as clean as it actually is right now immediately following a visit from my parents. The cops walk through and see nothing, but walk past my room as if they think its a closet. I'm leading them out, relieved that its over then one of them says to me- "things look alright, we just need to look in your bedroom and we'll be on our way."

Sure enough my room has piles of pot and paraphernalia everywhere. Fucking hell. I know I'm getting arrested. Every now and then as the cop looks away I hide some of the pot under a pillow, in my waistband, under a shoe. That is until the cop says "I see you hiding that."

I start begging him not to arrest me, to let this go, that I have important work to do that would be impeded by a conviction. I say something like "I won't be able to visit my clients in prison!" or something similarly ridiculous.

I woke up with a migraine that had a heartbeat of its own and nausea to boot.

Pot like Moss

I dreamed that my ex-boyfriend from a long long time ago came to visit me in my home which was in the south but not Atlanta. There were all these sick people around- people in wheelchairs, people on breathing machines, people in beds sort of desperately reaching for the ceiling and wailing. awful really. But it was this romantic setting (!!!) that he and I decided we were going to try to have a relationship again.

His appearance was alternating between the way he looked that first day I picked him up from the Greyhound station in Chicago 13 years ago (long hair, bandanna headband, soft skin and gentle eyes, carrying a picnic basket) to how he looked the last time I saw him about 3 years ago (short hair, grown up, more edgy and measured, still familiar and comfortable).

Then the house turned into his house instead of mine and I was getting ready to leave. While I was gathering my belongings I kept finding these enormous clumps of pot everywhere in his house- stashed in vases, on shelves, in flower pots, and I asked if I could take some for the road. He was worried to give it me but I assured him it would be fine. I took what looked like a clump of moss and wrapped it in a pink handkerchief I found in my purse.

Then I woke up and found that in real life, he had just left me a comment on my blog.