dream journal (that's right, i'm a 16 yr old girl aspiring to be a writer, eat it)
following a night of bad dreams, that included a labyrinthian dream within a dream within a dream where in each level Sarah was cheating on me and one where my roommates were yelling at me and redecorating, a night of odd fluff.
I went to bed at around two last night, after watching Cecil B. Demented but ended up tossing, turning, and stirring the bed for hours, much to the chagrin of Sarah who had actual work today. I ended up turning on the tv, the little 3 inch by 4 inch black-and-white am/fm/tv i lifted and liberated from the Adelphi before it was gutted. I needed the news. Apparently it was 5:00 already. Mariann Childers rocked me to sleep. I had two blissful hours without the sun's interference when Sarah had to leave. Whatever fantasies were swimming around were unable to sneak in under rem radar. I bid her a groggy goodbye and it was time for the show to begin. Literally.
I dreamt of tv shows and full-cast, musical plays that hopefully don't exist.
most of them were lost to morning, but I remember two
the first is "Lone Star", a rehashing of the Daniel Boone story where Boone is a tween fugitive running around Texas. It opens with a 'Rawhide'-like logo burning through an old map of Texas. It then kicks into the Tom Waits song "Jockey Full of Bourbon", only it's sung by a nasal, prepubescent kid. Halfway through the song, a middle-aged Japanese man sings the lyrics in Nihongo, and the last two verses are sung in whispered spanish. I'd watch it.
The play, on the other hand, was an epic-semicomedy following about eleven people from middle-age through retirement and, in some cases death, all featuring actors in their 50s and 60s including Mort and Mindy, Chicago's oldest sketch comedians (fresh off their recent two-person set at Sketchfest 2005). There's one touching scene when Mort, seperated from Mindy in 1967 tried LSD at the Greenwich Village apartment of Mark, a friend he is staying with. We watch as the two men (playing themselves as late-thirtysomethings) get under the cover togethor and their night becomes a failed experiment in homosexuality and a lesson in unrequited affection as Mark eventually recoils from Mort's touch, leaving him ultimately alone.
The show had gone up opposing the Gentlemen Callers' show at the Theatre Building and, despite the clunky set (hollywood squares-type boxes meant to look like diverse arrangements of bohemian tenement apartments), i would prefer it to the current set up
speaking of clunky, this is probably one of my worst posts yet...sorry
I went to bed at around two last night, after watching Cecil B. Demented but ended up tossing, turning, and stirring the bed for hours, much to the chagrin of Sarah who had actual work today. I ended up turning on the tv, the little 3 inch by 4 inch black-and-white am/fm/tv i lifted and liberated from the Adelphi before it was gutted. I needed the news. Apparently it was 5:00 already. Mariann Childers rocked me to sleep. I had two blissful hours without the sun's interference when Sarah had to leave. Whatever fantasies were swimming around were unable to sneak in under rem radar. I bid her a groggy goodbye and it was time for the show to begin. Literally.
I dreamt of tv shows and full-cast, musical plays that hopefully don't exist.
most of them were lost to morning, but I remember two
the first is "Lone Star", a rehashing of the Daniel Boone story where Boone is a tween fugitive running around Texas. It opens with a 'Rawhide'-like logo burning through an old map of Texas. It then kicks into the Tom Waits song "Jockey Full of Bourbon", only it's sung by a nasal, prepubescent kid. Halfway through the song, a middle-aged Japanese man sings the lyrics in Nihongo, and the last two verses are sung in whispered spanish. I'd watch it.
The play, on the other hand, was an epic-semicomedy following about eleven people from middle-age through retirement and, in some cases death, all featuring actors in their 50s and 60s including Mort and Mindy, Chicago's oldest sketch comedians (fresh off their recent two-person set at Sketchfest 2005). There's one touching scene when Mort, seperated from Mindy in 1967 tried LSD at the Greenwich Village apartment of Mark, a friend he is staying with. We watch as the two men (playing themselves as late-thirtysomethings) get under the cover togethor and their night becomes a failed experiment in homosexuality and a lesson in unrequited affection as Mark eventually recoils from Mort's touch, leaving him ultimately alone.
The show had gone up opposing the Gentlemen Callers' show at the Theatre Building and, despite the clunky set (hollywood squares-type boxes meant to look like diverse arrangements of bohemian tenement apartments), i would prefer it to the current set up
speaking of clunky, this is probably one of my worst posts yet...sorry
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