Wednesday, April 16, 2008

What the hell did I eat before bed?

Very rarely do I ever remember dreaming at night. I am certain that I do dream every night but I am even more certain that I don't remember a damn thing about them. Last night was actually an exception. I remembered not one but two dreams that I had. Perhaps they were just much more vivid than I am used to. In any case, the dreams were as such:

The first was very odd. I was in a sort of dorm room with about five beds and I was sitting on one of them. My classmates in my MFA class each occupied one of the others. In the doorway was one of our professors, Professor Potter (and it's not Harry). By the time I realized where I was in this dream (not to say I knew it was a dream) he was in the middle of explaining something to Deidre, one of my classmates. She looked angry so it couldn't have been good. When Professor Potter finished, she said "I hate you" to him just as he was leaving. Then he comes back, having heard something, and inquires what was said. Deidre says nothing. Ryan, another classmate, says "she said she hates you" in perfect Ryan fashion. Professor Potter responds angrily with, and I quote "oooooooh!" Threatening, yes? Well, to me it was a little because he never gets angry. He storms out and we all contemplate the possible consequences. End of Act I. Weird.

Dream number two was a little unsettling. It involved a girl I was somewhat involved with, whom I haven't spoken to in well over a year and a half, and she had no business being in my subconscious. That's right, lady, don't let the cerebral doorway hit you on the way out...

Anyway, I couldn't tell where we were. It was a street filled with these sort of townhouses and for some reason I thought it was New Orleans. I don't know why I thought that because I've never been there. At any rate, this girl was talking to me in a very odd way. So odd I don't even know if she was talking to me. It was more like thinking about me out loud, but I was invisible and could bear witness to these thoughts. So here I am, invisible and seemingly following someone I don't really care to follow because she is expressing that she has something important to tell me. When she finally says what it is it came across as one of the most mundane, idiotic statements I had ever heard. So mundane I don't even remember what it was. I do remember, however, that I responded with "that's it?!" But now my invisible cover was blown and she knew I was there. She tried to stop me from leaving, asking me to come out of hiding, but I simply left quickly. The end. Scary.

I still don't know what to make of these dreams. The first I have a vague idea, but not the second. The second I can only speculate. The fact of the matter was that I was very hurt by this person and in some ways I never got over that. In more ways, however, I did get over it and moved far past it. But there is always that little, microscopic element that manages to sit there and somehow remind me that it still exists. Perhaps it is meant to be a growing experience and that I will always have it with me in order to maintain the person I am today, which in the long run is a better person than before. But what I don't get is why I can't just hang on to the result on let go of the process. What is it about this one tiny element that is so hard to shake?

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Do trucks jump out of planes?

As promised, I am here to present the next part of my airport adventure with Naum, which I would like to call:


Naum had given me instructions on when to pick him up. No problem. Thankfully for me my day at school wasn't too long so I went home after class, had some lunch, and awaited the time to leave. Suddenly I get a call from Naum. His plane seems to have landed 20 minutes early. I'm out the door and at the airport in record time (I might have gotten there later but Naum's navigation advise got me there sooner. Don't mess with this man).

In perfect Naum fashion, we bend the rules a bit and I pick him up at the departures section. Take that paid parking. We are on the road to Providence and Naum is telling me about his trip. As we converse, I notice the truck in front of me has some decorations, primarily a pair of stainless steel testicles hanging from the bottom of the rear bumper. I decide to keep driving and ignore these traveling testies until Naum sees them too. "What are those?" Naum asks me. "Well Naum, I believe those are testicles." The conversation continued as we notice there is also a decal for a paratrooper and we assume the driver is a military man. Naum goes on to hypothesize that this man (well, I was hoping it wasn't a woman) has great fortitude to put this on his truck. My guess was that the truck was the tough one and maybe it jumped out of planes. Who knows? We finally pass it and Naum sees the driver. "Oh! He's old! He's as old as I am!" Wonderful images flood my head. We make it to his home, he tells me he owes me lunch, and once again a good time was had by all.

I would have gotten this post up sooner, but I have been rather busy as of late. Lots going on with school, papers, and the play. But I promise to keep the interesting stuff coming as it comes my way.

Saturday, April 5, 2008

Planes, plays, and not much else

The production of You Can't Take It With You that I am performing in unofficially opened last night. I say unofficially because it was for a benefit, not for the members and guests of the theater. Whatever you want to call it, it went well. The crowd was very responsive and everyone seemed to have enjoyed themselves. Tonight is our official opening and I hope we do just as well, if not better. This show is certainly fun but at the same time I've been working on it for so long I am glad that the actual shows are now happening.

Today I was up and out of here early. I had done some research for a paper, but before doing that I met up with one of my professors from school by the name of Naum Panovski for something I would like to call:


Yes, the experience was so fun that I made up a picture for it.

For those who don't know him, Naum is a professor at Rhode Island College in the MFA program. He is very knowledgeable, helpful, and apparently has three homes: one in Providence, one in New York, and one in Washington, D.C. Despite trying to tell him that people usually save money by picking one place to live, he assured me he knew what he was doing. All kidding aside, Naum had asked me to drive him to the airport this morning. Unfortunately for Naum, he asked the person ranked #2 in the "people with horrible senses of direction" list (My girlfriend Jamie is #1, although she might be a lot lower on the list now because of a GPS, which might make me #1). And yes, I did get a little turned around trying to find his apartment, but in my defense the street I had to turn on was not clearly marked and/or visible. True enough this is in my home of Providence, but I digress. I got Naum to the airport on time, having delightful conversations along the away. A good time was had by all.

Tune in this coming Monday when I have to pick him up. Expect another picture.