m of my dreams,

Last night, N.Lo woke up around 3:30, convinced that his blankies were “all dirty.” Just a dream. (Funny, though, that dirty blankies are his nightmare.)

K.Lo dreamed about fairies, which is good, because she loves fairies.

And I dreamed… well granted, we can blame a) American Shaolin, which is about an American writer learning kungfu in China, b) The Amazing Race, which had a challenge this week related to noodles, and c) America’s Next Top Model, which I can only watch on hulu now, since direct tv does not have CW – I realize the girls went to New Zealand this week, but somehow my dream translated to Thailand. Because, you know, they once went to Thailand. Also, d) Survivor plays a small role, and possibly e) allergy medicine.

So we (you and me) are part of this travel group that may or may not related to modeling or picture taking. I don’t know. I just know there’s travel, and we’re running late, possibly not unlike Alaysia, who always runs late on Top Model. But we make it to our transportation in time, which is a long row of cars, and when I say long row, it’s like 5 cars lined up side by side, but they travel as one. Which gets hairy in a certain section of town, but we make it. They take us to the airport and then we head to Thailand, which may or may not be called New Zealand by the rest of us. I can’t confirm. But if it’s one of the countries, it’s definitely Thailand. Because of both the architecture and the fact that we’re fixated on a noodle shop across the street from our location (which suffers either a minor earthquake or a giant gust of wind just prior to our leaving), and those noodles are famous. They go for a dollar a cup. I say that I’ll buy us each a cup. So I go to do that, and you disappear. When I finally find you, you’re in this building (right next door to and possibly connected to the noodle shop) where you’re learning kungfu. The building is like a labyrinth inside and there you are, learning kungfu. Like flying and fighting and shit. I can’t tear you away, so I go eat my noodles. And then I have either more noodles and/or tea with some of the kungfu masters and the kitchen staff, and make you some. And you finally come to eat, and you’re like, all starry-eyed about learning the kungfu. Apparently you learned a certain style, and clicked with it, and you’ve decided to stay. STAY! Again you’re leaving me in a foreign country. It can’t be possible. I have to move on with the tour, and you’re staying behind because you believe it’s your destiny to learn this certain form of kungfu, which involves flying, twirling kicks. I should also mention that Ozzie, from a past season of Survivor, is there, and he’s like a national Kungfu star, or prodigy, or something. It’s a very strange background element that doesn’t play a large part, but there he is.

So anyway, I’m befuddled that you’re staying, and you’re so calm about it, and I'm just supposed to move on without you. I keep saying something – and now I can’t remember the line, but it was either really brilliant or really random. I say, “Your staying here is just like – x.” I can’t remember what x is, but whatever it was, you remained unmoved by the argument. And I was really concerned for some reason what would happen when I got home, like I wouldn’t have anywhere to stay, or something, and we had projects to finish together, but I can’t say what they were.

I cannot make this shit up. Where is your dream manual??

-pen