Saturday, May 07, 2005


I had a dream the other night that was probably similar to one you all have had before. I was Condeleeza Rice's assistant, following her through the cobblestone streets of some unknown European capital, and suddenly ten, fifteen, twenty secret service agents popped out of nowhere, shrouding her body and protecting her from a series of skyrocketing bombs that had erupted seemingly at once from air, land and sea. It was all a drill, of course, and I knew that, understood that, but still, I felt that, as a member of her security detail (albeit a novice member and a Canadian member to boot, true, I understand that, but still), I should have been at least notified in advance as to the logisitics of this particular security demonstration. Then the scene shifted, as dreams tend to do, and I was standing in front of my mirror, and my right eye was puffed up the same way it's been the two times I've been bitten by a bug here in Cambodia. And my left eye was completely white -- there was no pupil, and it looked like my eyeball was composed of white chocolate with pin-prick sized holes dotting its ablino landscape. Then I woke up.

I'm sure you've all had that same dream before.

It can't be just me, can it?

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