Grab a snack because this is gonna be a long one.

I dreamt I lost Jordi in Costco. I texted him, telling him I was in front. As soon as I sent that message, my message was auto-corrected to “I’m going home.”

Then my panicked fingers couldn’t find the letters I needed to communicate where I was or what was happening. My keyboard didn’t make sense anymore. Only emojis were available, and I could not back out of that keyboard, all while I kept getting texts from Jordi demanding to know why I’d gone home.

I remember this much because I immediately explained my dream to Jordi when I woke up. Later that night, we shared a joint with my roomie outside and discussed the brain’s inability to incorporate actual text into dreams. I have recurring dreams about struggling to communicate in writing. Often, the text in my dreams resembles that of the fake text in Animal Crossing:

It’s merely a suggestion of text and it frustrates the hell out of me. However, the roomie is convinced he can form text in his dreams.

How about you?

Continue reading “Grab a snack because this is gonna be a long one.”

The pompom that brought a city to its knees.

I have a comically large pompom atop one of my toques. It’s so big that the pompom-to-toque ratio is nearly 1:1. People have difficulty resisting commenting on it. Small children point at my head. I might’ve even upset someone’s dog yesterday. Had the dog been off-leash, it’d have lunged at me for a taste of whatever critter they thought to be sitting on my head.

I spent the majority of my days off indoors. I finished French knotted the former Miss. Bouiver’s beehive and I am well on the way to completing my second embroidery project. I could finish it this week, except I found myself lying on the floor on Sunday night after smoking a bowl from my wee pipe. While high, I became more conscious of the strain I’d put on my back from hours of sitting on the couch, hunching over my embroidery project.

Continue reading “The pompom that brought a city to its knees.”