I found out yesterday that I lost my garden plot due to "negligence" (i.e., heinous amounts of weeds and crappy plants). I'm hoping that I can beg and plead a little and get it back; what's funny is that Spencer and Will and I went over there a few days ago and did a lot of work because we were all feeling guilty about it. It looked SO good at the beginning of the summer! Even in the middle...but toward August, it became overwhelming and it was much more enjoyable to sit at home in the evenings and drink wine instead of root around in a mess of weeds and bugs. That's what I get for being a lazy ass. I have pictures of it but they are on my PC, which gave up the ghost last week and won't even turn on now. Anyhoo, when I got that letter from Growing Gardens, I felt like the shittiest person on earth! Oh well.
Here is a recent dream. I may have already posted it, I don't know:
Walking down the sidewalk, I came upon a sort of courtyard between two buildings. The walls were studded with Mexican tiles…I walked between the buildings and in about twenty feet, the ocean was lapping up…I was on the shore. I played around in the water for a while with Spencer and then went into a beach house. Mike Senterfit was there and he was a dentist. I told him I had a toothache and he checked and said that I needed a “cap.” He squirted this orange stuff, like Cheese Whiz, into the tooth and then covered it all with white dental clay. He told me to hang out for about an hour to let it dry, and so I just lay there and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes. Then, people started coming in (there were others there the whole time; it was like a clinic) and reggae music was blasting from the other room and black people were dancing all over. I was very concerned that the clay would dry in a big huge lump so I kept pushing it around with my tongue. I woke up thinking it was still on my tooth.
I have the weirdest dreams.
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