It's rare I remember my dreams; usually I wake with a vague feeling something happened, and occasionally with a high-concept Guest character for spindizzy_muck. So I feel a bit gypped about today's. Other people dream in Livejournal threads; I get a routine narrative about frustration.
The setting: A blend of a couple friends' homes. The frustration: A friend and I are trapped by some gun-wielding criminal. The cable TV reception is so bad he's allowed me to call the cable company (don't ask me); but I can't convince the operator to send police. She read in the paper -- I read it too -- where police were getting lots of false calls based on a video game with a scenario just like this, and she wasn't falling for that urban legend. The surreal element: my friend, running interference while I plead for help, was both that friend who got married a few months back (neither of our homes had any elements of the dream-home) and Michael Moore.
It was exciting, mind, and for once I think I recognized it was a dream while asleep, and it seemed like a goofy TV Movie-Of-The-Week (remember them?) in good ways. I woke to a new threat, construction in an adjacent apartment.
Trivia: An egg dropped from a helicopter by David S. Donoghue on 2 October 1979 over the Tokyo Golf Course fell 650 feet and landed intact. Source: 1982 Guinness Book of World Records, Norris McWirther.
Currently Reading: A Wodehouse Bestiary, P.G. Wodehouse. Stories featuring, in some way, animals; sometimes in important roles, sometimes in walk-ons. Many marvelous quotes, e.g., ``There is no stigma attached to being a rabbit,'' said Sir Joseph, pacifically. ``Every man with a grain of sense is one.''