I'm on a bus in Naperville, and I don't know where to get out. However, I see that I had missed a good stop so I get out where I can. It's a small suburb, but as I walk around and into houses, I pass Al Pacino, Jerry Seinfeld, and Dave Foley (I think) running very fast in the other direction. I'm so surprised that when I call my sister to come pick me up, I tell her about that first. I forget what happens until the next sequence, though I suppose it could have been a separate dream.

Now I'm sitting away from home with my friends Ayten and Milda. We are in a kitchen-like area and Milda is cutting up fried chicked on an island and wearing an apron. Ayten is sitting on a barstool to the right of the island, just in front of me and across from Milda (I'm also to the right of the island). They are talking about how life is so unfair and boring. I launch into an exasperated and passionate speech about how lucky we are to be in the Knapp House and how all the intelligence and talent in our lives have enriched it so much. I end it by standing up, raising my arms touchdown-style and saying something about how wonderful it all is. Milda responds that she spent some of her youth in a children's home away from her uncaring parents (which is not true in real life). I say that I know she's had some rough times in life, but that doesn't mean she isn't lucky now. To illustrate my point, I indicate the scene outside the window where the sun is setting over a frozen lake. Isn't that beautiful? The sun is abruptly covered by clouds and Ayten says that the lake looks so dull. There are people skating all over it and I push on about how it's gorgeous even in its grayness. I then exclaim that I should get my skates.

Unfortunately, the window is actually that of a bus and I have once again missed my stop. We've just rounded the cemetary in downtown Naperville and I pull the "stop cord." I get out in a small commercial district which appears to be homes converted to stores. I go into a store run by a group of Italians; it's filled with lots of old people walking around. I believe it's an art store. The place is mostly run-down and winding in a sort of Hong Kong style of narrow corridors. I walk through all of them looking for my sister because I think I hear her voice. I then realize that because I'm dreaming, I'm probably just adding her voice in because it's familiar. However, I quickly forget I'm dreaming again and walk out to the front door to call home. The (yellow) telephone appears not to have any buttons, though, except one labeled "6" in the middle. Then I notice a circle of pre-programmed buttons on the outside including one labeled "taxi" with a sillouhette of a car -- from the front -- on it. I push it many times but get no ringing. I finally notice some small buttons with numbers and try to call my sister. Again no rings.

I decide to ask one of the workers for a phone. He looks like a young Chazz Palminteri, wearing a business suit and talking with a stereotypical mobster accent. He says it's in a bag just above the door inside his private bathroom. I look up and the bag has to be hit once, opened, closed, and opened again to reveal the phone. I call my sister (after first realizing the area code was different), and she says she doesn't feel like picking me up and that I should hail a taxi or take a bus. However, I say that if she at least meets me partway we can go shopping downtown and she agrees. I try to put the phone back into the bag but I can't figure out how to close it. The whole bag falls down and I worry for a second that I lost the phone and now the mob will kill me. However, a guy who looks like a young Steve Van Zandt helps me out. I mention that the guy who lent me the phone seems like a good guy, and this guy laughs cynically and says I don't know what I'm talking about. I feel pretty naive and a little nervous by this time, so I just try to give a compliment. I say that the guy with the phone seems at least to have a lot of honor. The other guy says honor? that guy's got very little. So I finally go to the door to leave and I thank them all "very, very much" so they won't kill me and they thank me very, very much for stopping by. I get my shoes on and leave.

Outside, I turn right and immediately am at the cemetary. It looks at first like I'm just between some small houses, but they're really mauseleums. Since I just want to get away from the mafia and get home, I start running anyways, and find I'm accompanied by a girl and boy in their 20s who are laughing like it's a game. I then realize once again that I'm dreaming and that perhaps I could fly to avoid the graves. So I actually do run/fly about six feet off the ground ala Shaolin Soccer, and I clear the fence. Of course, there's another cemetary across the street. So I start clearing that one too, whereupon I see Kid Rock and his group standing on a row of headstones, apparently shooting his next video.

Everything pulls back and it turns out I'm actually browsing a site about how much Kid Rock sucks. A bulletpoint list goes through all his worst qualities ("a Joe C he's not") including tthe worst of his accessories: "red hat and vest." I scroll further down the page and there's some link about a bunch of angry women. I don't click on it. Further down the page is a figure of the Vrk2-FancL deletion in gcd mice. I wake up.

posted by Larry at 10:30 AM