azurelunatic | Dreams

Something about a train? or a bus? and I was with people from the List [

lmbujold] and then Darkside was present (not physically yet) and then That Woman called, and I had to field her; she was worried (something about her mother's funeral and someone, I think a sisterfriend of hers, behaving strangely, and I had to talk her through some counseling basics).

Then I was at the place where

votania's family used to all live, and it was just her father now, and things were being made ready, and then Darkside was there in person, and I went with him, and he was showing off a little, and ...gha. It's just under the surface!

And he was doing the things that shy geek guys do when they're doing the mating dance, and he showed me the article about him that had been published back in 2001 (an interview, a xeroxed copy) and it had some stuff more esoteric than what I thought he'd be comfortable sharing with the world. But it was evidently OK in that underwater society. (Did I mention it was an underwater society? No? It must have slipped my mind, because that was when I noticed in the dream. Dennis K. or some other friend of his was there, and there was discussion of hooking up systems for a game, which was done via some networking thing that combined RJ-45 connectors, cat5 cable, and vampire taps. There was then a lecture of how a strong draw on the line just after the source would fuck it up for all. (This was, unfortunately, how it had been set up.)

And then Darkside wanted to show me this vehicle he'd made, either have me drive it or show me him driving it, and he'd built it himself, and it was "perfectly safe". More with the veiled flirting. I demurred, thinking it not safe, at least not for me, and he started it amidst a spray of sparks, which he expertly banished from around him -- and sent flying in all directions. Including at me. And I was not as good at that as he was. I ducked and put up my arm. He saw, and came over, and 'rescued' me, and soothed that this was the underwater version of air pollution. Little bubbles with fine copper screens.

And then I was going about at some sort of extension of the underwater society, and there was discussion of glamourbombing, and spraypainting "Believe" on trees. Palm trees. And then we were at a house, and then we wound up leaving, and stopped by another house, inhabited by some older/wiser people and Mr. Secretary, who was torn on some decision or other in that delicious way that only gayboys can do effectively. Outside (before the decision) there were Toulouse and Friendly, and their ducklings and goslings! Tou-tou was in ... rare form. Hiss, hiss, grinch.

And then Mama was driving down the road in the Blue Truck, and I had to explain glamourbombing to her.

And then I was walking through a sort of horror carnival, and Scully was on the cellphone about something. It was a very show-and-tell carnival.

And then I was walking through a hellishly disgustingly dusty construction zone.

And then I was getting screened for something very like plasma donation, only it was a different screening process. This was just down the street from the dust factory. And it was done outside, with a porch and a booth for the screening. And lung function was one of the tests, and I kept coughing because it was so dusty, and the lady was thinking my lungs were borderline for passing. And I explained the dust.