Cat Choices

I have the opportunity to pick out a cat to take home with me from a room full of cats. The first one I pick has a hot pink face and a gray body, but I realize that it is not well behaved and that its face is too pointy. The second cat I pick is also gray, but I realize that it is Chad's cat, Ink, who has been stolen.

Ink

I get a tattoo of an iris on my left shoulder, but it looks more like a sandwich or a hamburger. I pull down my shirt to show Ronnie and in the process I reveal a bunch of other terrible tattoos all over my body. Even though they look horrible, I just decide to commit and feel awesome about my ink (though I was relieved to wake up tattoo free).

Stupid

I am back in high school, only it is more of a trade school where we learn to recite poetry while repairing refrigerators. I am known as the dumb kid in class and everyone, even the teacher, makes fun of me. At one point the teacher tells me to kill myself and everyone laughs; I threaten to report her to the principal and she says, "I said 'curiosity killed the cat' not 'kill yourself,' you idiot."

Scams

You come up with a plan to make money by getting sunburned outside of public places and then suing the owners of the place. It is harder than you think to get sufficiently sunburned, so you also sell cds from a box to increase your profit margin. I get mad because I find out that you've sold my Fujiya and Miyagi record without asking my permission.

Philosophy Groupies

We are obsessed with a new philosopher called Jordan. He is very handsome and smiley and we both find him utterly brilliant and charming. We travel to cities all over the country (at one point we must drive across miles of broken glass) to hear him give a lecture entitled "Jordan's Spectacle of Living."

Even More Dog Responsibility*

I have a few peacocks and a few dogs and I am trying to keep everything in order. I put the dogs in the kitchen and the peacocks in the yard, but I am afraid the most beautiful peacock will be stolen, so I chain it to a tree with a gold necklace. Somehow the dogs get into the yard and pull all the feathers off the chained peacock; I wonder if I will be held responsible by the Wildlife Federation, or if they will be cool and see things from my perspective.

*More dog responsibility dreams here and here and here.

Sockcakes

There is an article in the business section of the New York Times about two of my elementary school peers and their new venture: a bakery that turns old clothes into cupcakes. Then, in the metro section, there is an article about a fiery bakery explosion and my peer's horrible deaths. I am mainly concerned with the distasteful editing and I wonder if the section editors talk at all or if the NYT could have at least saved the explosion story until tomorrow.

Language Games

I am involved in a drama between two asian women who may or may not be sisters. They are yelling at each other in different languages (one is speaking Hebrew and the other Cantonese) and I am translating. I soften their insults by talking very slowly and touching their hair while I speak.

Robofeet

A man with metal feet is going around kicking holes in people's apartments at night. You and I get into a spirited discussion about whether or not he 1) is a robot and/or 2) was abused as a child. I believe only a robot would show such blatant disrespect for the home; you support this, but claim that abuse can "turn normals into robots."

Sports

Our backyard has morphed into Yankee Stadium. We close our blinds so the spectators won't see us living our lives. The announcer, in a voice that emanates from a speaker in my head, calls out mundane tasks we do in our home, i.e. "And now, in the kitchen, she is PEELING an ORANGE!" etc.

Killing Time

I am supposed to be having Easter dinner with Ronnie's family but before we eat I take all of his girl cousins with me to a bar. We are served drinks directly out of coconuts and we proceed to get wasted and swing from a trapeze. By the time we get back to the house, dinner is over and everyone is mad at me for "killing time."

Exes in Atlanta

I am at my friend Jim's wedding (nevermind the fact that he was married long before I met him) at a fancy hotel in Atlanta. The wedding is more like a convention with booths and activities, and I notice that two of my ex-boyfriends are in attendance. I keep waiting for my third ex-boyfriend to appear because I haven't heard from him lately and I hope he's okay, but he never shows up.

It is Unsettling to See Your Own Dead Body

There is a new corpse replicating service in town. For a large sum they use a computer to take our exact measurements and determine composition of our skin, hair, fingernails, etc. We leave, towing our replicated corpses in a white wagon, our intentions unclear or undecided.

Kidnapped (Again)*

I've been kidnapped. My captors are three teenaged boys with ponytails; we smoke pot together on a couch. Aside from the fact that I have mandatory chess lessons and can't leave the premises, it's pretty much like high school.

*This kidnapping experience is considerably better than my last one.