During the past week, I've had three dreams where I was hanging out with rockstars. It's probably the recurring dream I've had the most, ever since I was a little kid. Back in the day, I would dream about hanging out pretty much exclusively with U2, but as I've gotten older and my musical tastes have broadened, so have my dream tastes. This week, I hung out with Tom Waits (he was sitting on a couch and he said I was a "pretty alright guy."), U2 (I think I was at a concert, but one where the band and I could converse back and forth), and Black Dub (again, I was at a show, one where the band and I could converse back and forth, and Brian Blade remembered who I was [from our real-life encounter at the 9:30 Club alley a few weeks ago]). So anyway, I think hanging out with rockstars is some very-deep-seated need that I have down in the core of my being, and I'm not sure what that need means or why it's there.
Also this week: battling ant infestation and figuring out how to build a walkway.
Went to a pretty great 4th of July party last night at Lesley and Scott's. I worked a long day yesterday and didn't really feel like going after work (actually I kinda forgot that there was a party), but Jeannie lured me in with tales of free food and drink, and socializing. All of which turned out to be true. Plus some pretty decent fireworks that we were able to sit close enough to to feel in our chests. Or at least my chest. I'm not sure if Jeannie was able to feel it in her chest, but she was sitting right next to me so I'm assuming she was. Anyway. Whatevs.
Tomorrow: gravel and sand and paver acquisition and babysitting at Chez Kilpatrick!
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