I had a couple rather vivid dreams last night. In the first, I was going to different bookstores for some reason. I might have been looking for a specific book--it was probably influenced by the fact that I went to a Barnes and Noble yesterday I don't often go to. Anyway, in my dream, the first bookstore I went to had hardly any books, just a bunch of middle aged men sitting around and smoking like in a 1930s gentlemen's club. There was some strangely ominous music, like tense strings from a horror movie. I caught one guy's eyes he was walking past me and we both started laughing like mad scientists to go with the music, then we both laughed normally at the joke we'd both thought of at the same time.
The next bookstore I went to was the oldest Barnes and Noble I knew of in San Diego county, and I found it had had a lot of its books taken out, too, to fit an austere aesthetic with shining metal struts against the walls. Everyone there gave me nasty looks, so I soon left. I found myself in the parking lot alone at night, and I was attacked by a large, starving wolf. It looked to be about twice the size of a regular wolf, but its flesh was sunken around its bones and its fur was clumpy and oily. I hit it across the face with something hollow and metal--I've been trying to remember what it was. It might have been a lunchbox or a tea kettle. I even think it might even have been an old fashioned mailbox. After I'd hit it, it became one of the Skinned Hounds from Oblivion and continued to fight me.
I woke up and went back to sleep, this time I dreamt I was in an alternate version of Back to the Future Part 2 where I, in the place of Marty McFly, dropped out of the hovering DeLorean to really beat the shit out of young Biff Tannen before kicking him out of his own car and running over him a couple times. Finally, I let him get up and I leaned out of the car and asked him why he hated me so much. He explained he didn't, and in fact he was a big fan of one of the same rock bands I was a big fan of, though I don't now remember the name of the band. As I pondered this, he sucker punched me and ran off.
While I was watching him go, wondering if I could chase him down, a skinny, nerdy looking young black man wearing glasses with extraordinarily thick lenses appeared, pointing a gun at me. He wanted me to accompany him to a comic book convention, and I did, finding there many of the same sorts of people I normally see at Comic-Con. And I woke up feeling nice about something apparently sort of permanent in the world.
Yesterday involved a lot of reading, coffee, and listening to some of the noisiest Starbucks employees possibly in the world. This particular Starbucks is wedged in a little shopping area between two massive office buildings. The places in the shopping area include the Barnes and Noble I mentioned, a FedEx/Kinko's, a cinema, and a lot of restaurants. It was clear that almost everyone I saw there worked in one of the office buildings, and everyone seemed to have a certain familiarity with one another, and the Starbucks workers, too. It was like I was visiting a school campus.
Last night I watched the seventeenth episode of Battlestar Galactica's second season, which wasn't bad. It was nice to see Apollo wasn't the complete doofus he was in the previous episode.
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