Diana's Diary

2002-05-18 - 7:55 p.m.

Dreamology 105

I've been reading too much apocolypse-themed fiction lately, because I had the most bizarre dream last night. I was in a big hotel/casino type place, and I was with some guy. (No one I know in real life.) There were these bad people who controlled everything, and you did not want to get on these people's shit lists. Of course, my traveling companion had to be a total smartass, which obviously made him a target of the Bad Guys. For some reason, we were safe if we stayed in our hotel rooms, but there was a period during the day when it was safe to come down and gamble. (Slot machines, I think.) Anyway, when the safe period ended, a buzzer would go off, and we'd all run to the elevators to go back up to our rooms before the Bad Guys came and caught us. So, the buzzer went off, and we all went scrambling for the elevator...only, when the doors opened and the mob tried to get into the elevator all at once, the doors slammed shut again. (It was an elevator with two sliding doors in that part in the middle, only when they slammed, the door on the right went all the way to the left, and the left door stayed retracted.) Someone in the crowd suggested that it was because the Bad People didn't want my traveling companion to make it onto the elevator, and pointed out a laser-beam like sensor near the floor. Then someone else (it might have even been me, I don't remember) said that the doors closed because we had tried to get on too soon, and we needed to wait for both of the retractable doors to be open before we got on. We hit the button again, and the door opened normally. The whole crowd got on the elevator...but then it occurred to me that the inside of the elevator looked an awful lot like the inside of a microwave...and that the elevator was going down, not up, even though we had gotten on the elevator on what was supposedly the bottom floor.

And then I woke up.

Cheery, isn't it?

Let's just call that one "Descent into Hell in a Microwave" and change the subject now, shall we?

Something that I keep meaning to mention and keep forgetting about:

Very few people really get the weirder aspects of my sense of humor. Those who do are the ones who know me very well. A few weeks ago, River went to Detroit to visit her mom, and she sent me a post card. The picture on the card shows an extremely hoompty, seventies-style car (bright blue with a yellow stripe) driving under a bridge which says "5280 feet to Canada."

I love it. And moreover, River knew I would love it. It's not just the Starsky and Hutch-mobile (although I think that is part of it). Part of it's the fact that this postcard, a souvenier of Detroit, instead of advertising some great landmark in the city, advertises...that it's close to Canada. And instead of saying "one mile to Canada," it gives the distance in feet, like it expects you to be so excited to get to Canada that you want to measure the distance in the smallest unit possible. (River explained to me that when she was in high school, going to Canada was a thing to get excited over, because Canada has a lower drinking age.) Well, I thought it was funny. I don't know.

If you can't tell from my description why I found the post card amusing, then you probably don't really get my sense of humor. That's okay. Most people don't. It's just nice to encounter someone now and then who does get it. Especially when I am surrounded by so many people who don't, even when they've known me my whole life.

-Diana

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2003-12-16 - Ow! My Nose!
2003-12-15 - 'Tis the Season...For Moving
2003-11-17 - Rush, Rush
2003-11-03 - Apartment Hunting Sucks
2003-10-22 - Apparently, "nauseated" is a good look for me.

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