today has been a sleepy day. it was raining last night when i went to sleep.. it may have rained this morning--but it is cold, and cold is good for these things.

i have had many dreams.

i dreamt about pulling into a parking place and the car next to me was being broken into by a group of kids who were not very good drivers. fifteen feet away, a spanish boy was yelling at them, it was his car. he pulled out a gun, i tried to remember the license plate number. they drove in circles and into a few things and then parked, not so neatly, back in the same spot. they hung out in front of the grocery store and they were not such bad people, just bored. the boy with the shaggy hair wanted me to rescue him and i can't remember what i did, but it was something.

inside, the grocery store started as an albertsons and i wandered from aisle to aisle with a jug of milk, unable to remember what i came in for. gradually, each aisle had some strange and unique item in it, so i pulled out my camera around the wine area (wine bottle labels are always interesting in my dreams because i come up with some amusing things) to take a picture of some yellow five gallon bucket that amused me, but all i kept closing the shutter on was a bottle of witchy woman's wine. i couldn't find the bucket, kept wandering and the albertsons became a grocery store belonging to some eastern european nationalities and the produce was arranged very specifically. they were very kind people and there were lots of children and htough it was light outside, it was night. i saw people under blankets with their heads on their pillows and i was still wandering, unable to remember what i needed, and i offered to leave so i would not disturb them. they told me not to be silly, but it was dark and i was having trouble seeing. ten minutes later, their alarms went off and it was back to business as usual.

my camera was not working properly, i was at my grandmothers, it was a big silver thing that involved its own printer. we couldn't figure out what the deal with it was. it's okay, i have another.

and then i'm working in this restaurant in new york city, managed by tony sandora, and it's very unique and has only eight tables and many fancy window draperies, and there's a very odd way of taking orders which i cannot get jeff or michele or someone from some band to show me (it involved tapping carrots on each other) and everyone's laughing and having a good time (and there are powerbooks, of course) and i'm getting frustrated. then the food is put away and we are downstairs on a streetcorner and i am looking up at the building at the windows on the top floor and what it might be like to live up there. i was discussing this with another girl and we could barely see into one apartment from where we were standing, with bright blue walls and comfortable couches and a glass floor that extended off the side of the building. how lovely it must be, i said. you really must take a closer look, she told me. and i was sucked from my place on the streetcorner and up the side of the building. i was hip zooming camera angles and the walls and the light fixtures and modern amenities were hip all around, but the floor was made of tiles of animal hide and a stuffed white tiger sat on the floor and i knew the woman who lived here had done these things by hand and after i'd had enough floating i was laying face to face next to a brown sparrow on a plate, i knew he would be next. so i picked him up all soft and non resisting and i put him in my pocket.

i could hear her footsteps coming, she knew i'd disturbed her peace, so i made my exit quickly and i could feel her chasing me. every door i opened was a door into a snakelike hallway of doors, or the occasional closet--and i'd wait until she passed and sneak back the other way. i ended up in a bathroom in someone elses apartment, trying to turn the lock on a flimsy door and instead opened it into her face and pushed her to the side. ran breakneck down the hall to the last door and opened it to see the boy with the shaggy hair playing video games older than eight bit and sitting on a mattress. i told him i was being chased by her and he locked his door tight--i could hear her outside, muttering and defeated. he sat down and asked me what i'd done. i pulled the sparrow out of my pocket and he squeaked in my palm. he shook his head and sighed and put his arm around my shoulders as if to say, 'good job, but it's not quite over yet.'

i was busy last night.

(note: OSDFLJAASd haha i almost forgot, in the eastern european grocery store, there were these boxes of macaroni and cheese that had the drawn faces of very random dead and or forgotten celebrities on them.. i wish i could remember who they were, but i called nick to tell him about them, i remember that much)