babble
Friday, April 11, 2003
For the last couple of weeks, I've been thinking about really heavy stuff, like my place in the universe, my purpose in life, and how best to overcome my flaws and transcend my physical boundaries. I was thinking of writing about it, but instead of boring you with my own weird-ass personal spiritual quest, I'll tell you about my encounter with Crazy Homeless Dude yesterday and the shitty dream I had this morning.
On my way home last night, I stopped at the local fast food joint and pulled up to the drive-thru. There was an old homeless guy standing there by the menu, and he didn't look like he was doing too well. He was kinda scruffy, really skinny, and his eyes were all yellowish. He looked like he could be someone's grandpa, so I asked him if he wanted something to eat. He asked for fries and a coke, so I ordered it for him and pulled forward. A second homeless guy came over a few minutes later from the gas station across the street and decided to come up to my window and start talking to me. Crazy Homeless Dude started to go into his standard spiel, and then looked at me and goes, "Wow, you're pretty." I laughed, and he said, "No, really! You're really pretty! Wow!" I said, "Thank you," and he responded with, "Gimme two dollas." I liked his attitude, so I told him I'd give him my change when I got my food. As I drove away after handing over the food and cash, Crazy Homeless Dude yelled after me, "I hope your boyfriend treats you good! If he don't, throw him out!" Sage advice. Good thing my "boyfriend" treats me so well. I wouldn't want to have to throw "him" out.
Now for the shitty dream. This morning, instead of hitting snooze on my alarm clock seven times like I do every morning, I turned the damn thing off. During the next two blessed hours of oversleeping, I dreamed that I parallel parked my car in a normal spot on the street in Pasadena, and some dude in a big Ford truck came up behind my car and rammed it. I know it was a Ford because Fords are evil. Apparently the force of the ramming made my parking brake have an aneurysm and die, because my car proceeded down the street by itself as if propelled by Satan. Somehow I flagged down a car full of my friends (actually, it was a car full of people I kinda know - the cute guy from the photo lab, and some neighbors) and we drove around until we found my car, which was in the process of being loaded onto a flatbed tow truck after having crashed into something due to its Ford-propelled jaunt down major Pasadena thoroughfares. This upset me greatly because I love my car a whole lot. In fact, I tell it that I love it on a regular basis, because I want it to feel loved and appreciated. Anyway, the bad dream was enough to jar me into consciousness, at which point I realized that I had overslept and made a pronouncement along the lines of, "FUCK!" to declare my feelings about the oversleeping. It was fun!
One more time: don't forget to come to the Brewery Artwalk this weekend. I'll try and actually blog during the artwalk, especially if something interesting happens. If nothing interesting happens or I'm so busy selling mountains of my artwork that I can't take the time to post, I'll update you all on my thrilling life of intrigue and mayhem on Monday. And I might even tell you about that sex dream I had the other night involving celebrities! I know you're all on the edge of your seats.
babbled by Kat @ 9:55:00 AM |
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