Now that I'm living in South Boston, I should be more in tune to all things Irish, especially St. Patty's day. But no, I missed it. In my defense, I was sick all week. I had enough trouble keeping track of the day of the week, let alone a holiday I don't particularly celebrate.
So when I decided to go to a movie, I was a bit surprised by the parade preparations going on. I live half a block off Broadway, which is the main drag leading through South Boston. The parade starts two blocks from me at the T stop. So I walked past the vendors setting up their booths, the TV crews setting up their platforms and cameras, and the barricades. I tried to remember when exactly St. Patty's day was, because I was sure it didn't actually fall on a Sunday. But parades are good for Sundays, so....
Anyway, by the time I was done with my movie and heading back, the T was packed with people. Fortunately, most of them didn't know which end of the subway the Broadway T stop's exit resided on. So I walked past the crowds waiting on the platform and made my way all the way to the end. I didn't have to wait long before a mostly empty train arrived. At least the back end of the train was mostly empty. Empty enough for me to get a seat. The front of the train I knew was experiencing much pushing and shoving.
The next stop filled up my car, and it took forever to get the train moving at each stop. I think they were trying to stick strictly to the schedule. Anyway, eventually the train emptied for my stop and I got off. But the entrance to the T that I usually use is on the wrong side of the parade route. I only learned that the other way around was to use the other entrance, once I got to the top of the stairs. So I walked a couple of blocks over to avoid the parade route and made it home. Although I hope the parade ends at a reasonable time, since I need to do grocery shopping and the stores are on the wrong side of the parade route.
Anyway, by the time I got home I was convinced that I remembered that St. Patrick's day was March 17th. So I thought, tomorrow is the day. Nope. Well, I was right about the traditional day, but because of when Easter falls this year, Monday the 17th is a Holy Day, so the Catholics moved St. Patrick's day to the 15th. So I totally missed it.
Edit: I'm hearing now that it's only kind of moved, so maybe I didn't miss it afterall. Those Catholics are such crazy kids.
16 March 2008
08 March 2008
Another dream blog
The beginning of the dream is already a little vague. I remember running along the roof of this square building, the kind with a square courtyard inside. I was trying to get somewhere else but can't remember what I was trying to do. Off to one side of the building was a jungle and a short distance away was another building. In another direction was the ocean, the last two directions lead off to the city.
I remember we were at the bottom of a hill and that the rain was causing the streets leading to the building to be flooded. There was a party on the top floor of the building and it was some sort of mansion, with lots of drinking and shenanigans. There were even stuffed animals in the room. So at some point I realize the building is one fire. Rather than panicking everyone only gets more racuous in their partying.
I try to call 911 but it ends up being something like 6911 which is WWE Diva 911 where hot wrestling women answer the phone instead of professional emergency operators. After I tell them my hotel is on fire, I hang up and check out the situation. Checking the street level there is a monsoon outside. The cars driving on the ocean side of the building are in several feet of water with waves crashing over the tops of the cars. The drivers inside don't seem panicked at all, and seem oblivious to the surfers who are going by them.
I go back upstairs and the party is still going on, even though the fire just got to my fireworks supply. I remember that it was $200K or $250K in fireworks. Again no one is panicking, they are just excited. Some people leave the room and go into the hall. I decide that the 6911 call wasn't working and call 911 and say it was a significant fire, they question me on it being significant and I insist it is. I then decide to go down to the street to wait for them. I have a lot of trouble hearing the operator because of the noise of the party.
In the hall the people who left are having sex. Mostly it is random couplings of three or four people. Then I see one person I know having sex with his wife (he is very moral and at first I'm shocked, but since it's his wife I think it's alright). I'm invited by one of the threesomes (which contains my wife/girlfriend) to join, but say I have to go wait for the firefighters.
I go downstairs and see the flooded streets and I'm afraid the firetrucks coming down the hill won't be able to make it through. So I start running toward the road leaving down the hill, through the city. It is all these abandoned factories and warehouses that I recognize from other dreams. I'm quickly lost, and while running across on street I hear the trucks. I turn back and there is an ambulance far out ahead of the trucks.
I flag the ambulance down indicating it should follow me and start running back towards the burning building. I make it to a fenced off lot, the kind of fence that is corrugated metal so you can't see through it. Even though the sky is dark because of night and the rain, it is apparent there is a large fire burning on the other side of the lot because of the brightness.
I point out the large glow to the firefighter and he asks me if I were the one who reported the fire. I say I was, and he asks if I said it was a significant fire, and I say it was. He takes another look at the glowing sky, punctuated by a few more fireworks, and says that it's twice that. The ambulance driver meanwhile grabs me and pulls me into the lot, which is some sort of junk yard.
She immediately lifts up my shirt and starts applying electrical leads slathered in some sort of goo to my chest. I protest that I feel fine, and she doesn't believe me. As she is checking me out she is brushing into me more than is necessary. I again insist I'm fine, even my lungs feel clear I say, breathing deeply. But she insists, and says I probably haven't peed since it all began. I tell her I have and she is shocked. I tell her I have to again, and she is really amazed. She says that most people are so scared they couldn't piss to save their life.
I say that there wasn't anything to be scared of. The fire was moving slowly, so that it was easy to outrun. I also knew the structure of the building was still fine, so I didn't have to worry about that. As I explained things she got even more excited, and started really pressing against me. She says I must be some kind of miracle person. As she presses against me, I can feel how past her prime she is. She says something like she's a 59 year old woman with pancreatic cancer, and she wants my miracle tongue to lick her slit because it's closer to her pancreas. I have no idea where the pancreas is, only that pancreatic caner is almost inevitably fatal.
Eventually I break free from the extremely affectionate, 59 year old, slightly chubby, very soft, pancreatic cancer having EMT. I stumble away and find other people from the party huddled under blankets in the junk yard. I walk out the gate of the junkyard and find my girlfriend/wife talking to her father. Her father is the one that actually owned the hotel, the industrial buildings on one side, and the mansion in the jungle on the other side. I tell him that I'm sorry I burned his hotel down, but at least the fire didn't get to the mansion. He almost seems amused by it all and insists that it's not my fault.
Anyway, that's about as much of the dream as I can still remember. I'm sure by tomorrow, this blog will be the only record left.
I remember we were at the bottom of a hill and that the rain was causing the streets leading to the building to be flooded. There was a party on the top floor of the building and it was some sort of mansion, with lots of drinking and shenanigans. There were even stuffed animals in the room. So at some point I realize the building is one fire. Rather than panicking everyone only gets more racuous in their partying.
I try to call 911 but it ends up being something like 6911 which is WWE Diva 911 where hot wrestling women answer the phone instead of professional emergency operators. After I tell them my hotel is on fire, I hang up and check out the situation. Checking the street level there is a monsoon outside. The cars driving on the ocean side of the building are in several feet of water with waves crashing over the tops of the cars. The drivers inside don't seem panicked at all, and seem oblivious to the surfers who are going by them.
I go back upstairs and the party is still going on, even though the fire just got to my fireworks supply. I remember that it was $200K or $250K in fireworks. Again no one is panicking, they are just excited. Some people leave the room and go into the hall. I decide that the 6911 call wasn't working and call 911 and say it was a significant fire, they question me on it being significant and I insist it is. I then decide to go down to the street to wait for them. I have a lot of trouble hearing the operator because of the noise of the party.
In the hall the people who left are having sex. Mostly it is random couplings of three or four people. Then I see one person I know having sex with his wife (he is very moral and at first I'm shocked, but since it's his wife I think it's alright). I'm invited by one of the threesomes (which contains my wife/girlfriend) to join, but say I have to go wait for the firefighters.
I go downstairs and see the flooded streets and I'm afraid the firetrucks coming down the hill won't be able to make it through. So I start running toward the road leaving down the hill, through the city. It is all these abandoned factories and warehouses that I recognize from other dreams. I'm quickly lost, and while running across on street I hear the trucks. I turn back and there is an ambulance far out ahead of the trucks.
I flag the ambulance down indicating it should follow me and start running back towards the burning building. I make it to a fenced off lot, the kind of fence that is corrugated metal so you can't see through it. Even though the sky is dark because of night and the rain, it is apparent there is a large fire burning on the other side of the lot because of the brightness.
I point out the large glow to the firefighter and he asks me if I were the one who reported the fire. I say I was, and he asks if I said it was a significant fire, and I say it was. He takes another look at the glowing sky, punctuated by a few more fireworks, and says that it's twice that. The ambulance driver meanwhile grabs me and pulls me into the lot, which is some sort of junk yard.
She immediately lifts up my shirt and starts applying electrical leads slathered in some sort of goo to my chest. I protest that I feel fine, and she doesn't believe me. As she is checking me out she is brushing into me more than is necessary. I again insist I'm fine, even my lungs feel clear I say, breathing deeply. But she insists, and says I probably haven't peed since it all began. I tell her I have and she is shocked. I tell her I have to again, and she is really amazed. She says that most people are so scared they couldn't piss to save their life.
I say that there wasn't anything to be scared of. The fire was moving slowly, so that it was easy to outrun. I also knew the structure of the building was still fine, so I didn't have to worry about that. As I explained things she got even more excited, and started really pressing against me. She says I must be some kind of miracle person. As she presses against me, I can feel how past her prime she is. She says something like she's a 59 year old woman with pancreatic cancer, and she wants my miracle tongue to lick her slit because it's closer to her pancreas. I have no idea where the pancreas is, only that pancreatic caner is almost inevitably fatal.
Eventually I break free from the extremely affectionate, 59 year old, slightly chubby, very soft, pancreatic cancer having EMT. I stumble away and find other people from the party huddled under blankets in the junk yard. I walk out the gate of the junkyard and find my girlfriend/wife talking to her father. Her father is the one that actually owned the hotel, the industrial buildings on one side, and the mansion in the jungle on the other side. I tell him that I'm sorry I burned his hotel down, but at least the fire didn't get to the mansion. He almost seems amused by it all and insists that it's not my fault.
Anyway, that's about as much of the dream as I can still remember. I'm sure by tomorrow, this blog will be the only record left.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)