Dream 9.28.07

I am eating "lunch" with a child actor - in my dream.
(I quote "lunch" because everyone basically eats whatever they feel like during a midday lunch-sized break from shooting this strange scary movie, which had, in part, preceded this moment in my dream.)
He eats some freshly prepared Caesar Salsa...

Take a moment to imagine what this dish looks, smells, tastes like.
A white florray with hints of earthly green and red garnishing each scoop of the dusty rainbow tortilla slices. Bountifully chunky, and not too saucy, the bulks of his bites grab the chip preferring to be stomached by the young man rather than grace the forbidden ground of this gas station parking lot, even tented from the sun as it is. The air is warm and almost dry, but when child actor cracks the lid it radiates a conditioning into the air as a crisply-opened refrigerator door. The aroma and the breeze of Caesar Salsa wrap around my nose, my mouth, my face. I inhale and profess, "If I could have whatever I wanted for lunch every day, I guess that's what I'd eat too."

And of course, because this is my dream, everyone chuckles,,,
including the pretty girl sitting on my left
with an apple red lunch
meeting her apple red lips...

but that's another story.

I Cook an Omelette Like It's My Job

handpicked greenest beans and delicate fragments of cheddar embedded into a white and yellow pigment brushed with brownness,
a fillet of egg-ly divinity

...my job

Only Two Certainties

Right now there are only two certainties in my life.

One is the necessity for a glass of milk each morning. I simply cannot function properly if I do not drink a glass of milk when I wake up. It's like a cup of coffee. Or if I don't have it, I may as well have woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

The other is basketball, which is the only extracurricular thing (aside from searching for employment) that I do with any regularity. Well I don't do basketball, I play it, but... it is... it gives me some kind of routine to attach on to for now. And it's good exercise to boot.

Tooths = Magnets

Today my teeth are magnets for licorice.
Not black licorice-flavored licorice, but the red licorice that they claim to be flavored like strawberries, but it isn't flavored like strawberries 'cause it tastes more like red-colored sugar than strawberries, and I hate strawberries - have nothing to do with 'em - and this sure as hell don't taste like no strawberries...
taste like...
I'll tell you what it taste like: taste like a little bit of love, little bit of warm in my soul.
These particular licorice, for the moment, plug any holes that may be there.
Red non-strawberry licorice...
filling my happiness back up for the time being...
because it's red...
but mostly because it's sweet.

Gusts to 27mph

93º
42% humidity
It is hot, but breezy.
The aroma of thunderstorms,
Approaching whitecaps loom over the western horizon

Shade in the backyard...
Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim,
David Sedaris, Ben Folds, Plain White T's

Flies eye my lunch:
Tuna fish, home-made salsa, spinach dip,
Ham-cheese-onion omelet,
All on whole wheat burger buns,
A can of ginger ale, and a glass of water

The sun hides for a moment
Though there are no raindrops
Yet
Anxiously awaiting the first strike of lightning
Amidst the orchestra of upturned leaves,
I will have a solid photo portfolio by days end...