
The SCA out on the green lawns of Encanto Park, college, a friend not eating at any American fast food restaurant, to the point which I said "Argh!" and went online and bought my fussy friend and myself two $10 tickets to Canada and made reservations at a particular burger joint. Making the reservations was hellish -- I got put on hold many, many, many times, and had to be transferred between branches of the place. One central routing number; the place I got was American; I had to be transferred. Takes forever. Asking around about various things. Phone conversation with a friend about membership lists: it seems that after you leave, formally, an organization, you may still wish to be listed as affiliated. Is that "actively affiliated, affiliated, historically affiliated, or name and address removed from the rolls?" I dreamed my bathroom wrong, with the light source coming from higher, lower light level and yellower... lit the countertop better; the main mirror was in shadows. Mirrored medicine cabinet was on the wrong wall: north instead of south. I played with a perfume bottle while I talked. My current favorite "commercial" perfume, exclamation noir, velvety black glass bottle, scent that takes me back to my first college days. I was back in my parents' house, with their downstairs phone. Cord stretching, wrapping, tangling. Conversation about the tickets I got, which popped up in the computer screen like a friend signing on to MSN with the same noise, and I picked them off the screen and put them on the splintering varnished plywood table. Ancient table; table I pounded on when I was five. It was a good deal, they agreed.
Waking, I think: Now if only I could find some $10 tickets to Germany...