Day 10 - Much is Fine More Gets You Schwasted + Two Dreams

Sure was drunk last night. That's why this entry is coming now and not yesterday evening. I was actually fairly excited to write while tipsy or even smashed, but it went beyond that. No, I wasn't black out and there was a definite lacking in the vomit department (score for me). Instead, I hit that stage where you're so tired that your bed and blanket feel not unlike the soothing caress of your lovers arms or perhaps a really affectionate really fat guy who just wants to make it all better. Mazel tov if your lover is a giant happy fat dude, put two wins in your Victory Column. Also, if you drink regularly like I did last night, you probably look like the zaftig gentleman to my left, and should therefor add a third win into your Victory Column.

That aside, I do gain a certain amount of clarity and vision (though blurred) while I've a a couple. So for about an hour I had a nice picture of my new project and got to briefly mention it to my boys, Aaron and Erik, both brilliant folks especially in the vein of filmmaking. It was a nice conversation. I always love hearing people talk about their passions and projects and with how eloquent those two are it's very easy to get lost in dreams.

I feel the need to do a drink count. Here we go. Prior to meeting up with the fellas, I hit Grand Cafe to see Sena on her trial run first work day. Handled it like a champ, she did, poured me a good beer, then went so far as to make a fine Old Fashioned as my second drink of the evening. The aforementioned Old Fashioned was one of the strongest drinks I'd ever had, probably in the amount of 3 some odd shots in its larder. Ah yes, and then Koichi and Andrew, family from Seattle (love them two), popped in for a quick hello and a double shot of Ciroc. Starting to get to that magic level. Off we fly to East Burn, where three more beers (one of which is the Sierra Nevada Beer Camp winner. Like hoppy gold she was), get into my belly before we head to the tap-room and snag a gin and tonic, adding another color to the Wilhelm von Bezold (wiki that shit).  I don't remember if I had another drink when we hit Gypsy, but dammit I could have used one to drown out those singers. It was hair-band night at the local karaoke bar and it was painful. Never seen someone grind to Dream On before. It had an air of comedy to it.

Drink count over. I think I ended with 8 drinks (counting the Old Fashioned multiple times), and a head much needing a pillow. But upon the laying down I found I'd hit that nasty part of liquor related states: useless and annoying energy. It felt like an eternity until I conked out, held firm in a limbo of cheap alcohol and bad breath.

My dreams, though, were the payoff. I'd mostly sobered by the time REM rolled in, so the dreams were just tweaked enough to be both a nightmare (thank you alcohol) but very interesting. It was an island, like a mash up of New Zealand and a great desert. The colors were vibrant, so many deep blue-greens on the hillsides that became massive mountains of earth and golden sand, creating a wall that would keep harsh storms and colossal waves out. I was there during their storm season, however, seeing terrible tsunami's pound the natural wall with this shocking shade of blue. Evidently, their storm season grants the ocean the reach and power to climb over the wall, searching out any unfortunate folks who don't happen to be in their homes. The homes were sturdy, Hobbiton like dwellings, made of some kind of super-strong ceramic and glass pulled from the land itself and metals from iron like trees. We escaped along the peninsula, seeing the wave peak over the ridge and drop a thick sheet of water down upon us, finding refuge in a beautiful cream and yellow home. It was a nice place, very homey and the woman who owned it loved coffee and tea, as evidenced by her hundreds of brewing devices, pots and kettles. The sky darkened, and a thunderous boom swallowed up any other sound. The wave had hit. Flash forward some hours and the roof was starting to leak, but the storm was well over. It was decided by the towns folk that they move into the island, forcing them, and those willing, to pack up their belongings and head into the Storm Home, a seasonal community cut into the guts of the island itself. It was there that they began formulating a plan, a way to extend their borders and protect the island that had given them life.

I then woke up, actually excited by my dream, then I fell asleep and had another.

It was a VR of Jurassic Park. Not JP classic, though, but the one with mutant dinosaurs and some cybernetics. Go from point A to point B and avoid the hungry/angry prehistorics. It was a simple, weirdly invigorating dream, beginning in a cabin with three people besides myself giving the briefing. The cabin then fell away around us, revealing floating islands in a misty valley swaddled in overgrowth. We flew through the scenario until we came to the park and an...inquisitive mechanical T-Rex. I got away, making my way past a Pachycephalosaurus and a rock infused beast that looked like a Monster Hunter Creature. It crashed through a barrier, sending me through the glass behind me, and into the gift shop, which also happened to be the end of the adventure.

I bought a stuffed Pachycephalosaurus.