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Last night's dream was somewhat creepy. There were four of us involved in the dream. There was me, two women, and a man. One of the women was my current mate. One was an ex-something-or-other (wife, girlfriend, dance partner, or ??). The man was a stranger. He was a nebbish-looking person, sort of egg-shaped overall. He kept trying to interact with my current mate, but he was completely weird and oddly aggressive.

My gut reaction was to tell him to get lost, but I was trying to be diplomatic and let him go on with his act for a while. At some point, the tensions were too much to handle and we all started giving him signals that we didn't want to talk or interact with him. He immediately went into victim mode and poor-me reactions.

I woke with the dream hanging in the air, like old smoke.

Part of the dream had something to do with a marina and boats. Some of the dream sequences may have been aboard one of the boats.

Also there was a long dream episode of me trying to recall a man's name that I bump into occasionally. I kept playing a scene of meeting him, over and over. Still not sure that I recall his actual name.
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Dance last night was OK. Had trouble remembering fully the new dances. I felt heavy and not quite present for most of the night. L was somewhat blitzed from the long day. I hadn't taken a nap, which might have helped.

All day long yesterday, I thought people were driving their vehicles erratically--more so than usual. Wasn't a full moon, yet people were weaving in and out of traffic, doing lane cutoffs, and so on.

Perhaps everyone was reverberating from the London terrorist bombings. Even though everything seemed to go back to business as usual, people may have been affected on a more inner level. I know I was experiencing frustration at such events and sadness for the people that were hurt and killed. Innocent people caught in the quagmire that has been so purposefully fostered.

I noticed at the dance that there was no mention of the attacks, even though there was a guest from England present. Not even a moment of silence. No global thinking being done, only local focus. The world is in peril, not just the homelands. Waking up is hard to do.

We were exposed to a new dance, Crab Pot, last night. Not that exciting once it was all laid out. Might become better known as the Crap Pot dance.

Will be heading up to the 2nd Saturday dance tonight. Maybe it will give me a chance to work out some of the new dances--repetition is the handmaiden of proficiency--perhaps. Sometimes repetition yields mind mush.

Started the Murakami book. Hooked already. Multiple storylines have been presented. Now, I just follow the breadcrumbs and see where they lead. I'm still amazed at how much detail he manages to communicate with so sparse a structure, such simple narration. He is a master.

Finished the O. Henry prize stories for 2003. Not as overall well done as the 2005 collection, but some memorable pieces all the same.

Today, I don't feel quite as bored as I felt yesterday--if not bored, then at least jaded by doing the same things, riding in the same ruts. Today, so far, has been slightly more interesting, even though part of the time was spent doing laundry. Go figure! Can't beat those tumble cycles.