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2006-01-06 - 9:58 a.m.

at some sort of nature camp resort with a bunch of friends and acquaintances. three showers, one close to the cafeteria and always full and two farther and empty. someone asks where so and so went, and we point to a far one saying taking a shower. an old, nice woman from eastern europe askes me in front of a crowd of my friends how was (bulgaria? some b-starting country she was from) and i am a little confused then remember telling her i might visit there a few years ago while staying at my aunts, which didn't actually happen, so i say oh we never got a chance to go there and she smiles and stuff and we leave and everyone says "bye" and i say "vive bulgarie!" or something like that. i go to take a shower and annie comes in and starts to put on makeup and stuff, i'm so impressed that i start fawning all over her while still naked and dripping, finding reasons to keep coming out of the shower again. her outfit keeps changing, but but it's always some goth-punk outfit, at one point consisting mostly of straps. she gets really annoyed so i say okay, from now on i'm going to ignore you and she goes "oh you don't have to do that." so i do, and she starts trying to get my attention back. when i finish the shower, even though i never actually washed my hair, she starts dancing on a table in this elaborate flowing purple gowny thing, and it gets real silly. eventually she takes me to her house, which is like an apartment with no paintings on the walls but in the back is like a huge chop shop garage. her brothers and friends are all there and they're like thugs, but they like me and so they park my car for a hundred bucks and hang out with me. at one point while watching tv or video games her brother puts me in a wrestling pin and i have to get out, and i do. her mom is this way tan dyed-brown hair neurotic california mom type. as i leave i see lisa there and i realize i'm in a dream, and i repeat this is a dream this is a dream you can control this and stuff but as i realize this i start to wake up.

 

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