More crazy dreams last night. After reading a review of Stephen Malkmus’s solo gig, I dreamed he came to the Actionettes dorm room (sorority house?) where he left his bag before going to the recording studio on the corner (in real life a Tesco Metro). We all pawed through his bag (full of sticks of gum and girly Hello Kitty items, and scraps of paper), and when he returned I seduced him. But when he was getting nekkid I was a bit turned off by his extreme pallor and 26” chest. Plus there was a small dead mouse in the room, which kind of put a damper on things.
Still no news on our new home. It’s taken nearly a whole year to sell my place and buy another one. I never want to move again. Maybe once more, and then I’m staying put.