teeth and smoke and wings and things

Dear Toothfairy:

My teeth have been falling out in my dreams again. If I put them under my dream pillow, can I redeem them for things in real life? Like the new Metric, maybe?

This morning, in dream Lawrence, I dream smoked a half a pack of dream cigarettes. I convinced myself that 10 cigarettes in a year still counted as quitting. Considering I likely smoked an average of 4000 cigarettes a year when I did smoke in real life, I don't think that logic is really far off. 10 cigarettes = 1/400th the normal rate of smoking.


Should I start a separate blog about my travels, a la Guatestrad, Kevman's blog of yore? Or should I just write on this here blog o' mine, this blog that will turn 4 years old in September? I just thought I'd offer the question up to the blogoverse before making any rash decisions.

Feeling more myself again, after many days adrift on a sea of salt.

LMOD!

Atonement

Dearest dear,

Let me air my laundry list of indiscretions:

I have gotten behind on all of my bills.
I owe multiple friends money.
I have been taking things too personally.
I have been initiating terse, frustrated conversations.
I have not been answering my phone, nor returning phone calls.
I have not been answering emails, unless they are about the show(s).
I dream of letters, but do not send them.
I dream of hugs, but do not give them.
I can't pay attention to any one thing for more than 5 minutes.
Every time I go into my room to clean it, I fall asleep instead.
All of my white hairs are starting to show again.
I'm so full of pathos it's just absurd.
I don't write on the internet anymore.

Please forgive me for my sins, and I will do my best to get my shit together. At least by the end of the summer in time to fly far, far away.

I adore you.

Love,
Me

He Woke Up In A Strange Place Called Home And Although Looking For Bed He Kept Finding Death Instead

Find out about this.

Better Better Best

1. My last post was, alas, a dream I had the other morning while I was sleeping on the couch in my basement inside of two sleeping bags. So, New York will just have to wait.

2. Conversation at 5AM while weighing jars of spices for inventory:

Me: Taste Adventure Split Pea Soup?
Jamie: Yes, definitely.
Me: No, but ... Taste Adventure?
Jamie: Yes, it's an adventure ... You know the part in Star Wars where they're stuck in the trash compactor? Some people would call that an adventure. It's like that.
Me: So, you're saying it's like a garbage adventure in my mouth?
Jamie: Yes, that's what I'm saying. Reconstituted soup tastes like farts.

3. I have a new phone and it's shiny.

New York City Dreamin'

Somebody has to take a weekend off from ASTRONOME, and I get fitted for their costume just in time for the show to start. Unfortunately, the only thing anyone says to me about what I'm supposed to DO is 'Follow me.'

Luckily, Richard wasn't, for some reason, in attendance at this performance.

I get Brendan to promise to tell me what I'm actually supposed to do before the next night's performance.

I realize I have nowhere to stay while I'm acting in the show. I try desperately to remember how to get to Unoppressive Non-Imperialist Bargain Books, and start walking.

Laika's Coffin

If you live in Minneapolis, please go to Toy Theater After Dark at the Open Eye tonight or tomorrow. You will be missing a really important opportunity to see some amazing works. (The good pieces were so good as to happily erase all ill will I might have had towards the not-so-good pieces.)

Check this out, alright?

Tonight!

I will play a song on the guitar in front of people other than the people that live in my house. Whee!

I'm nervous, but I'm wearing cowboy boots, so I feel like everything is going to be alright.