4.10.01
i’ve been having these excessively vivid dreams lately. sort of like dreaming in technicolor and surround-sound after spending 22 years dreaming in black-and-white stereo or something. i blame the chinese herbs my acupuncturist makes me take. last night i dreamt i was somewhere outdoors, like a park, with my younger brother matt. he had just thrown his pepsi can on the ground and walked away and i was furious at him for littering. i began to yell at him, drill-sergeant style, to PICK IT UP NOW! i’m frustrated b/c i’m powerless to control his actions, and i know this, and it makes me yell even more forcefully. finally matt gets tired of my hissy fit and he goes over to this girl who’s having a picnic, takes her pepsi, opens it, empties it onto the ground, and throws it away with a “are you happy new?” look at me. now i’m horrendously embarrassed that i have to walk over to her, give her 75 cents, and explain to her that my brother stole her pepsi when she wasn’t looking.

while i don’t really buy into the jungian sort of dream interpretation, i do think that dreams reflect what our brains have been chewing on lately. i’m sure there’s something in there about being frustrated at my own lack of power/control, yet i feel burdened with a constant sense of responsibility. yeah, that kinda sounds like me.

someone broke into my car over the weekend. as near as i can tell, he didn’t steal anything except the change in the ash tray, and he was even finicky enough to throw back all the british coins that were mixed in. the glove box (the contents of which were strewn across the driver’s seat) contained 5 years worth of oil-change receipts, expired registration cards, a disposable razor, some carly simon cassette tapes, a spoon, some packets of ketchup, a honda manual, and absolutely nothing of significant value. the only shitty part is that he removed the face-plate of my stereo. this is shitty because the my stereo doesn’t have a removable face plate. so after snapping off all the plastic tabs and connectors on the face plate, he tried to pull the guts out, succeeding only in bending all the metal parts. he left the dead face plate on the floor of the car, all those delicate gold connectors wallowing in the gritty carpet. well poo to you, i say. i don’t think i’m capable of driving my car without music.

the real question is: is fate trying to tell me something? i spent all weekend in idaho trying to decide if i wanted to move there for a while or stick around sf. well, idaho was nice and familiar and safe and cold, and then i got back to downtown sf and i looked around at all the bustle and sunshine and chaos, and was like, “i can’t leave this behind!” well, at least i’ll have to leave my car stereo behind. hmm. more soul-searching to be done.