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last night i had two segments of dream. in one, i was rachel rae’s boyfriend (though she had blonde hair in the dream, clearly and badly dyed), but walked out on her during our ‘valentine’s day’ cruise because she wouldn’t leave the cameras and interviews alone for a few days. i ended up working as a dishwasher in a restaraunt somewhere in portland, arguing with emeril about the best way to plan the dishwasher’s work area.

the dishwasher was neat—rather than the usual in one side and out the other operation, it had a conveyer that pushed it up through the bottom, then out the side. you could stack several trays of dishes in a queue, and it would run them through sequentially, spitting them all out to the right (and cluttering up no end of counter space, in this case).

and no, i hadn’t been watching the food network.

the second segment was space opera-i was a clarinet player (who has interstellar adventures, natch) who was ?captured by unknown folks and put into a sort of zoo. there were no bars. the goal of my being there was to learn to play an instrument i’m calling a stalephone, made from an exceptionally smooth and resonant stalagtite. it was kinda like an oboe. they didn’t know how, but knew that it was an instrument. i put my clarinet reed in it (was all it needed) and began to learn to play. it had no holes, no covering mechanism-differences in tone were achieved by dampening the vibrations in different places on the instrument. the goal of the instrument was to sound out hollow chambers and weak spots in caves, in addition to making music. not sure how i knew that in the dream, but there it is.

there may be something to be drawn from the fact that i had to disassemble one instrument before the other would work. hrm.

lesson: crawfish, beer, and software development shouldn’t be undertaken before bed.

i know your garden is full
but is there sweetness at all?