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beautiful adventure, new orleans, cafe bamboo, hardcore show, anarchist
I had a dream last night that I was driving through a tunnel or underground passageway of some sort, and there were a bunch of elderly Asian men walking around in there so I had to be very careful and go slowly. After a moment, I reached a spot where a yellow rope-ladder was dangling from the ceiling. The old men were climbing it without any difficulty. I was going to use it to exit the subterranean world as well, but I had so much trouble ascending that I had to drop down to the bottom and try again: the rungs were irregularly spaced and some were at a fairly severe angle so I couldn't get my feet onto them, but most of all I just couldn't get my center of gravity to the proper position. I eventually asked the old man who was next in line if he would mind holding the bottom rung for me as I went up so that it would stop pushing away from me, and he was happy to help but even so I don't think I ever got to the top.

I had a dream last night that I was back at CHA for a reunion that I had no interest in attending. I was walking through the hallway near the library when I noticed that things were slightly different: the walls were absolutely covered with little awards and trophies and certificates and plaques and so on. They weren't all new: some of them dated back to the 1950s. I found one that had been presented to a pro wrestler - can't remember who - and there was a photo of him accepting it. He was a huge guy and his face was painted in a somewhat-intimidating black metal style, but he was all smiles and was hugging someone in the picture. Then I proceeded to the actual reunion, where there was a buffet of reasonably tasty-looking food but there weren't any plates so it was hard to take anything. I hung around the table and picked at things. This gave me something to do apart from talking with my exclassmates. Except that Beausang, Gallagher and Koumaris ended up in the same spot with me and there was some awkward smalltalking, mostly about the food.

I had a dream last night that I was watching the last few minutes of the Flyers's last game of the season. They were winning 9-8, and the other team (Boston? Ottawa?) had pulled its goalie. The Flyers won a faceoff in their defensive zone and one of them took a long shot that went in perfectly. 10-8. We were all very excited. The opposing team kept their goalie out for the next play, which for some reason also started with a defensive zone faceoff for the Flyers. They won it again and took another shot that went off the post and we were all disappointed. One of them caught up to the puck in the offensive zone and took another shot with 2 seconds remaining, but it went wide and we were all disappointed. Then, somehow, a player who I later determined was Hartnell managed to get the puck right off the backboards and one-time it in with a shot that just barely beat the buzzer. And then he got flattened by two opponents and took a long time getting back up. He looked woozy and possibly concussed.

I had a dream last night that I was driving somewhere with Robin. And there was a part where I got a parking ticket. And there was a part where I pulled over by the side of the highway with the intention of leaving my van there but then I decided it was dangerous so I got back in and drove off. And then there was a part where it was nighttime and there was heavy traffic and I wasn't using my hands to steer and the women in the car behind me were having some sort of issue.


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