storyrainthejournal: (clockwatch)
Exotic water...a whole planet of it, maybe.

On the cusp of the three-day Memorial Day weekend here; Pirate movie this weekend—which, while hardly as edifying or wonderful as, say, WisCon, still, yay! And I believe I'll take myself by dillo to the downtown Farmer's Market tomorrow morning. And, as usual, dinner and food shopping with N tonight; I've made a list of restuarants we might try that we haven't tried before.

Rain, rain, rain! In the night, walking to the bus stop. Me love.

What is dream, what is reality... Last night Aristotle threw up during the night, on one of the rugs. I heard the noise, looked over the bed loft edge, and saw the puddle of vom. This morning, down off the loft, grab the paper towels and wet a rag--to find that there is no vom, anywhere. Nor traces of vom having been anywhere. So now I’m dreaming about the cats throwing up and thinking it’s real.

Whereas a couple of weeks ago, I was lucid dreaming about finding a well hidden person known as The Icon who was going to tell me the secret of fixing everything. All over the map much? I also think I see big spiders in bed and then find I wasn't really awake, even though it really seemed like I was...
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storyrainthejournal

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