true dreams

i've decided to do a couple of things here.

• actually keep up with this damn blog... somewhat
• dedicate entries to those who've touched my life, that closely relate to the topic of said entry
• add photographs as often as possible
• base this blog on a dream diary, as my dreams serve as a dependable source of strange, whimsical and often entertaining stories, as well as a solid reason to abstain from doing most (if not all) illicit drugs.
• other entries will include, but are not limited to food diaries (but hey, food... sleep... who wouldn't want to read about these important topics?...)

and so - let's begin...

i dedicate this entry to rho, who updates her own blog with inspirational regularity and... well... dedication. 

i was late for school. i didn't even know why i was late for school, since i don't have morning classes. still i found myself wandering around in my car in the rich neighborhood near my old apartment. i got the wild hair up my ass that my wandering had gone on long enough, and now it was really time to get to campus.
i hit the gas and make a deliberate effort to reach 65/mph as quickly as possible. oddly, cars around me are dodging safely out of my way to let me pass them without having to honk, slam on my breaks or jump in and out of lanes. my happy cruising gets interrupted by the random and very sudden presence of po-po - riding my ass like a horse without a saddle. great, here come the flashing lights and siren.

hmm-- no lights yet. 
and he's still riding me... but i'm late. i'm not friggin' slowing down...
still, no lights... still on my tail. 
all right, my luck isn't going to last much longer; i'm going to pull into that gas station and pretend that i really have to pee- that way if the cop tries to pull in and write me a ticket, i have an excuse. yeah. that's all i need. a really good excuse, and i'll be home free.
good.

so i pull in. before i even have a hand on the car door, 5-O has already screeched up next to me, close enough to my car that getting out will be complicated to say the least. i open my door, and the cop (of an abnormally massive size) completely decked out in his motorcycle gear (even though he was driving a patrol car) is waiting for me with his arms folded across his chest.
"is there any reason you were driving so fast in a residential area?"
i wedge my way out of my seat.
there i stood, wearing one of my favorite outfits, which included a shorter-than-catholic-school-uniform-length skirt. and instead of explaining myself honestly, and pleading with him to let me go without penalty, i gather my skirt between my legs, gave it a little hike, bent my knees and said,
"do you have any idea how much harder it is to hold it when you're wearing such a little skirt?!"
my voice was not my own, but a higher pitched one; not very different from betty boop. and i had an uncanny capability to bat my eyes rapidly.
in fact, the longer i stood there with my lashes fluttering fast enough to provide the cop decent air conditioning, his face (and overall size) seemed to melt-- and he actually let me run inside and pee.

my view within the dream made an immediate switch without transition (as my dreams often tend to do), and i found myself walking towards the cop once again; this time after having filled my tank at a pump. go figure: even in a dream i'm still running errands.
the cop has a smirk on his face and a yellow ticket in his hand with something written on it. i'm thinking man, even after all that, this fucker is still going to give me a goddamn ticket...
the cop hands me the slip of paper with a phone number written on it and says,

"slow down and call me, cutie."