torquill: The devourer of worlds is not impressed. (devourer)
[personal profile] torquill
Okay, that was a strange dream.

There were semi-normal elements to it -- though we were at a conference of sorts, not a convention. It still had most of the usual happenings; I recall spilling out of a pre-con meeting with everyone else, saying that yeah, we had a much better idea of what was going on, and we felt better about the whole thing. Steve Mikkelson was... juggling? tossing something back and forth with another guy, and I noted that his arms were a little more muscular than they had been. He'd cut his hair shorter, too. I'd almost say he was overlapped with [livejournal.com profile] deyo, but it was absolutely Steve, no matter how many years it's been since I saw him. There was no mistaking that profile, or the grasshopper fragility, or the terribly romantic abstraction which followed him around like wisps of the music he was always composing in his head. I should write to him and see how he's doing.

[livejournal.com profile] firestrike and Nick and I went out for dinner, discovered firsthand that the Chinese buffet was awful, and congratulated Nick on choosing the Mongolian BBQ instead.

Wandering around an absolutely deserted part of town, like the way business parks get on weekends, no cars, no people, just the three of us talking. There was a very odd exchange there (let's just say that the relevant names were Savage, Cthon, and Tiamat) that I'll be talking with the involved parties with in private. I suspect they'll find it hysterically funny. I may edit this post to toss it in later, if it's okay with them.

Nick said it was in some ways a very odd dream, but then reminded me that I do have weird ones -- he reminded me (I'd forgotten!) of the dream in which I was part of the Blake's 7 crew, and we were outlaws running from the government... the root of our crime was (wait for it) we'd ordered a pizza and hadn't had quite enough money to pay for it. The other one he brought up was one I hadn't forgotten, and that was my dream about laying black vinyl irrigation tubing (3/4" stuff) along the sidestrip, clearing the ground to lay it and putting in the necessary fittings, while being ably assisted by the Master. He didn't seem to be worried about dirtying the black velvet of his trousers as he knelt on the ground across from me.

Growing up with all that British science fiction warped my brain.

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Torquill

May 2021

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