Wed 26 Jul 2006
Two weird dreams I’ve had in the last couple of nights:
In the first one, Hillary gets elected President in 2008 and appoints me – me, not some dream-me who actually knows squat about such a position – to be Commerce Secretary. The next few weeks are a whirlwind of activity as people try to get me ready for the job. I’m fairly torn, in the dream, between the honor of being the first openly gay Commerce Secretary and being just totally and utterly unqualified for the job. I am also torn because, frankly, I think Hillary’s more Lieberman than Lieberman. Eventually I turn to The Boyf at one point and say, “You know, I didn’t like her to begin with, but this Commerce Secretary stuff? It doesn’t get more half-assed than this.” I wake up when my car is in the motorcade heading to her inauguration.
Second dream is one I had last night, after checking my site logs and finding that a number of people have wound up here after googling for the names of the victims in those murders in my hometown. In the dream, I’m worried that my pseudonymity has been compromised, then it is – by one of my nephews posting a comment asking if I’m me and using my real full name to ask. (In waking life, I actually don’t care. The pseudonym is more of a joke than an attempt at hiding. I mean, yeah, I try to be discreet with personal information online, but I also know my real name is, at very most, two clicks from the page you’re looking at right now, and 99.99% of the people who read this already know me offline anyway, so whatevs. Yeah, I use this pseudonym elsewhere online, but it’s as much an effort at consistent brand-identity – oh yes I did – as it is an attempt to keep my blog safe from people just randomly googling my name, which would be insane of them anyway because my real name is so remarkably generic.) Like many a superhero, I become concerned that those I love are somehow endangered by people in my far-away hometown knowing I have a blog – because, y’know, blogging about the kittens really generates the archnemeses – and attempt to eradicate all traces of my real identity from the interwebs. Eventually I awake wondering what the next foul plan plotted against me will be. Then I realize it was a dream and immediately wonder at how stupid my subconscious is.
Last night I dreamt that Matt Hasselbeck (QB for the Seahawks) was demostrating to me how to make “perfect, at-home Taco Bell food” via this disgusting ice cube tray-looking thing that would measure out the perfect amount of meat.
I’m, uh, not sure what this has to do with anything.
I think this blog caused you to appear in one of my dreams last night.
It’s pretty damn hazy, but all I remember now is that I was driving around Gus and you were annoyed that I had your car. We were in Asheville and I had been nominated to go on a beer run. You and I were in the passenger seat and were having a devil of a time getting the car turned around in a gravel driveway so we could get to the store. (I don’t think we ever got out of the driveway.)
OK, both of those are just really messed up, though I do think Hasselbeck is kind of cute and Gus was basically the awesomest car ever.