I wake up in my old room on Concord Drive. I need to get the Fischer Random Chess game ready for the day, so I go over to the shelf with my chess set on it. The chess set is a brown and white miniature marble chess set, with a king about 3/4 of an inch tall. I noticed that the knights were broken, and looked around for the glue. Eventually I realized the Elmers glue-all was hiding behind the rat's water bottle. I couldn't see it directly, but I could spot it's distorted label through the bottle. As I'm gluing the knights back together, I figure that this is a good excuse to finally get the nice wooden miniature magnetic set I was looking at. I try to remember what price it is and a price tag floats in front of my face with 29.99 written on it.
I set the knights aside to dry, but the condensation from the water bottle has left two drops of water right where I place the knights. After thinking about it for a second, I figure it's okay. I'm going to need a place to put two pieces while playing anyway.
I pick up the FRC computer. It's a small tan box with a red button on it and a small LED screen. I press the button, and the screen reads 4012. I'm not sure what that means so I get out the instructions, which is one of those one page with a dozen fold jobbies. The initial 4 apparently doesn't mean anything, as no matter what you start with rook-knight-bishop. The next two are Python style indexes, so 0 means to the left of the rook. That's where you put the first "matching piece." I'm not sure what that means, but I'm guessing it means "duplicate." That gives me rook-rook-knight-bishop, and the 1 then doubles the knight. The 2 then gives the order to put the pieces in, but there's no details on what 2 specifically means.
I'm totally confused and ready to give up, but before I can I wake up.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Friday, March 12, 2010
Pseudo-Taxi
I was driving my car down Avon Street in Belmont, giving a taxi ride to some guy sitting in the back seat on the right. We're listening to the radio, and a Widespread Panic song comes on. I pull over to the side of the road and stop behind a parked car. Somehow I am now on the passenger side. I put my feet up on the dash and lean back as Widespread Panic starts to sing, "I've done so many bong hits/that I can't move."
"I love this song," says the guy in the back, "it was practically the anthem of the 70s."
"It might as well have been my anthem of the 70s," I reply, "considering how I acted in the 70s." I pause for a bit before speaking again, "Not that I want to go back to the 70s."
"I love this song," says the guy in the back, "it was practically the anthem of the 70s."
"It might as well have been my anthem of the 70s," I reply, "considering how I acted in the 70s." I pause for a bit before speaking again, "Not that I want to go back to the 70s."
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
The Moleskine Lecture
I was at a lecture in some auditorium. There were no chairs, and everyone was sitting on the floor. I was sitting next to a very beautiful woman. She had dark skin, and thick, dark, wavy hair, but no definable racial characteristics. She was one of those women who didn't have a great body, but just had the most beautiful face.
The lecture was about Moleskine notebooks. It was all about how to use them to make notes about things, and how to use systems of symbols to condense the notes. The lady started the lecture on a stage with a green blackboard, and then came into the audience to use one of the audience member's Moleskine's as an example.
The beautiful woman with me tells me about a Moleskine that a friend of hers had. Somehow I know that this friend was an older white man, with greying hair, that she was attracted to. Her friend took notes the way the lecture was suggesting, with a half page key to the symbols he used.
I tell her about a guy a met on the National Mall. It takes me a second to think of the word ... he was an entomologist. He made notes in his Moleskine about all the bugs he found on the Mall, with sketches and notes using symbols in the same way. When I was done telling her about this, the auditorium was gone and we were all sitting on the National Mall.
Connection with Reality: On weekdays I write notes about my dreams while I take the bus to the Metro. I write them in a small Moleskine notebook.
The lecture was about Moleskine notebooks. It was all about how to use them to make notes about things, and how to use systems of symbols to condense the notes. The lady started the lecture on a stage with a green blackboard, and then came into the audience to use one of the audience member's Moleskine's as an example.
The beautiful woman with me tells me about a Moleskine that a friend of hers had. Somehow I know that this friend was an older white man, with greying hair, that she was attracted to. Her friend took notes the way the lecture was suggesting, with a half page key to the symbols he used.
I tell her about a guy a met on the National Mall. It takes me a second to think of the word ... he was an entomologist. He made notes in his Moleskine about all the bugs he found on the Mall, with sketches and notes using symbols in the same way. When I was done telling her about this, the auditorium was gone and we were all sitting on the National Mall.
Connection with Reality: On weekdays I write notes about my dreams while I take the bus to the Metro. I write them in a small Moleskine notebook.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Why Didn't They Steal My TV?
Ryan H. and I were walking up the wooden steps outside my condo, which was facing Girard St. He is saying how he is happy to be with "the two men who helped me through the toughest and longest periods in my life." I figure that one of them is me helping him through Zen, although I'm not sure which one. I figure the other is Kid helping him through being gay, but when he turns around and gestures to the other man (who is across the street at the bus stop) it's Wyatt Cenac from The Daily Show.
We go in the door to the building, and then take the first door on the right into my condo, which has obviously been robbed. My TV is there, but in the master bed room they've stolen my flat screen monitor and my laptop. I look to the side of the drafting table and see that my desktop is still there. Then I go down the hall to the den, where I see that the other flat screen monitor is gone too. I think I see my backup laptop in a pile of gadgets on the floor, but it just turns out to be my old cable modem. I'm worried about leaving finger prints all over the place, but it doesn't seem like a serious enough crime that the police will dust for them.
I go into the kitchen and out onto the (wooden) back porch, but I don't find anything else stolen. I come back inside and see that Kid is stripping the sheets from the futon in the den. My dog comes running down the hall to me. He's a great dane, but he looks like a wiry white guy with short dark hair and a big nose. He's scared and crying because of the break-in, and I hold him and try to comfort him. I am thinking that I should have set the genetic engineering to make him look like a dog, so that I would be comfortable with him sleeping on the bed with me. I feel bad that he is locked up in the bedroom all day, but if I let him out he'll trash the place.
Kid is staring into the bathroom and his cell phone rings. He pulls it out and it is really huge, but very sci-fi stylish. It turns out it doubles as a police scanner, and the police are almost there.
I wake up afraid that I won't be able to ID the laptop for the police because I have forgotten the names of all the files stored on it.
Connections with Reality: I have been reading a lot about the legalization of gay marriage in DC. The night before this dream I watched the movie Following, where the main character follows people around and then breaks into their houses.
We go in the door to the building, and then take the first door on the right into my condo, which has obviously been robbed. My TV is there, but in the master bed room they've stolen my flat screen monitor and my laptop. I look to the side of the drafting table and see that my desktop is still there. Then I go down the hall to the den, where I see that the other flat screen monitor is gone too. I think I see my backup laptop in a pile of gadgets on the floor, but it just turns out to be my old cable modem. I'm worried about leaving finger prints all over the place, but it doesn't seem like a serious enough crime that the police will dust for them.
I go into the kitchen and out onto the (wooden) back porch, but I don't find anything else stolen. I come back inside and see that Kid is stripping the sheets from the futon in the den. My dog comes running down the hall to me. He's a great dane, but he looks like a wiry white guy with short dark hair and a big nose. He's scared and crying because of the break-in, and I hold him and try to comfort him. I am thinking that I should have set the genetic engineering to make him look like a dog, so that I would be comfortable with him sleeping on the bed with me. I feel bad that he is locked up in the bedroom all day, but if I let him out he'll trash the place.
Kid is staring into the bathroom and his cell phone rings. He pulls it out and it is really huge, but very sci-fi stylish. It turns out it doubles as a police scanner, and the police are almost there.
I wake up afraid that I won't be able to ID the laptop for the police because I have forgotten the names of all the files stored on it.
Connections with Reality: I have been reading a lot about the legalization of gay marriage in DC. The night before this dream I watched the movie Following, where the main character follows people around and then breaks into their houses.
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