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rebecca's pocket

.: rambles --> dream


last night george clooney was my love interest. he was in the military. I think we were in chicago. we were going to spend time together, but first he had to go away for a week. he was going to take me to a city that was the opposite of others: it was most dense at the edges and became open in the center. he had a friend I didn't recognize. I saw lots of WWII-looking couples passing by in bubbly jetson sort of two-person flying vehicles.

then two women got off the bus. one of them, who was very tiny, had a list of things she had seen. on it, written three times, was the name "jill-something". the tiny woman had been there that day, and was very excited about it. she kept referring to it as a woman's club but from the things she was said, I thought it must be a department store. it was clear she was a little strange.

she had a check she wanted delivered somewhere. she asked me to give it to the bus driver, telling him to deliver it to the proper place. I told him, but I wondered if he wanted to be responsible for it; I explained to him that there were three of us, any of whom would be willing to take this responsibility if he didn't want it.

tim curry was inside. my father was playing saxophone, and tim curry was hanging out with him. I went in to meet him, because I've always wanted to meet tim curry. I introduced myself, and he kept hold of my hand while we spoke. he didn't look or sound like tim curry, and he seemed to entirely misunderstand me.

also, I was a cher impersonator. a pretty darn good one.

[NB: I think george clooney is attractive, but I've never been hot over him; on the other hand, I've always been hot over tim curry, but, sadly, he not only wasn't the love interest, he was a friend of my father's. do you see the irony and the perversity of my subconscious?]

rebecca blood
june 2001


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