Underblog Rides Again

5.12.04

Update, sort of: New Order of "Oddball Rodent" Discovered Being Sold as Food in Lao markets. And Stylish Savannah Cats may be banned in New York. Kitty porn for the rest of us.

So here is the dream du jour, fresh from the pillow at 5:41am. My sister, stepsister, and her son were all staying at my folks' house.^* Except the house wasn't really their house, because there was a glassed-in porch, which held my step-sister's bed. Also, the house was much closer—right around the corner in fact—from the small set of stores near my folks' house. When I asked my step-sister if she was comfortable sleeping on the porch she said she slept better than ever. The three of us begin walking to the local ice cream store^† (or so I thought), when I ask where my nephew is. I am reminded that he had already been put to bed.^** I think that because it is ten minutes to eleven pm, it is unlikely that the local ice cream store would be open.^†† Instead, we are walking to the local 7-11 store, which is not where the local 7-11 store really is. My sister and step-sister talk with the proprietors, who appear to me to be brothers and of middle-eastern heritage. They have an excellent ice cream selection, including unmarked hand-packed cartons. My sister orders a carton and chats with the owners. We discuss how "crack" has entered the lexicon as an ironic euphemism for anything that people desire strongly. I order my carton of ice cream, and I hand over a ten-dollar bill, the last currency in my wallet. I receive change for a five. I tell the dude, "Uh, that was a ten." "No it wasn't" he replies. We both insist on our rightness, and I seethe at the insinuation that I am either mistaken or lying when I know that I am right. I tell the dudes what idiots they are to insist on withholding my rightful change when I live just across the street (when in fact I am there only for a visit), and I threaten them with telling my friends, writing letters to the editor, etc. All to no avail. I leave the store fuming; my sister and step-sister remain behind.

I awake thinking about how difficult it is for people like me to break out of the molds made for us by the circumstances of our upbringing.

^*I had been thinking about how ridiculous that I considered staying in graduate school based on how disappointed my parents will be that I did not finish.
^†I am on something of an ice-cream kick, having twice made special trips for it in the past month. I may have also been inspired by the article below. Finally, Generation Bob and I have recently discussed our respective sweets intake.
^**He is in fact in high school now and quite grown up. It is unlikely that he would not be accompanying us.
^††We have been foiled by early ice cream store closings in the past.

Conclusion: House not where it is supposed to be? Store not where it really is? Me on the brink of pulling up stakes here on the prairie? Coincidence? Perhaps not.

Whew. Now something to cheer us back up: Our correspondents respond! Featured at right, "A litter of groundhogs emerges from the underside of a propane tank on a farm in Mason County, Ky." care of RT. Also from RT, Ice Cream Vendor Punches Complaining Little Boy. At least the friendly ice cream vendor in my dream wasn't like this guy. Also: What Do You Think? Texas Cheerleader Crackdown from the Onion.