The other day when you asked what I was typing, this was the dream: *** I was with Ann (were we younger? more impish?) in a room full of other students all dressed in black, listening to a priest on a long dais teach about something. He was wearing black too. I wasnt paying attention. I was talking with the Ann girl. Finally he said, So Matt, how would you answer that? Only a little embarrassed, I said, Could you restate the question please? Only a little annoyed, he said, how would you find success in such an endeavor? And I said, Uh, what endeavor? And he sort of explained it (it had something to do with wealth?) but I still didnt really get it, so I fudged: Uh, Devotion, persistence, discipline (etc etc?).... No, he said. You can be devoted and persistent your whole life and still never move toward this goal. The way he explained it had something to do with little kids being an essential life force. I dont remember exactly. Something about spontaneity and fun? Maybe a little along the lines of the Ayn Rand-style selfishness? Anyway, then a good sized group of us went outside in the yard around the seminary. The grass was lumpy and soft, cold spring grass. Some boys started fighting and tormenting a rabbit. The priest got angry but kept his cool. He said, What about the Four Boys from Caldecott? What about adventure, camaraderie, pirates, etc? and they settled down, a little chastened. I looked at one of the boys, maybe a 6- or 7-yr-old, and his face was still a little twisted with the drama of it all, and I could see how easy it would have been to just get mad back at him, instead of offering an alternative as the priest had done, and I made some kind of mental note. Then I was wandering across the grass with a few others, and we found a big sinkhole in the turf. There appeared to be a car buried there! It looked like a gold mercedes or rolls royce. But no, actually it was a yellow sailboat half covered in dirt. Ann and I went on down in, maybe partly on accident--we landed on our stomachs and forearms on a heap of dirt, and found ourselves in a slightly fusty apartment. Thin light came in from dusty windows somewhere. I said, Hey look, somebodys here! A scruffy, slightly feral bearded man was sitting at a desk, facing away from us, facing a computer. What is he working on? I wondered. Looking around, I saw my stained-glass sailboat, some of my books and other things. Strange, but--I used to live here, didnt I? Ann saw one of her books and she wanted me to get it for her. I was pleased to note the guy had left up some of my taped-up typewritten messages. I spoke up: Do you mind if I go around and get a few things? The guy just said, Come here. I went over there. He told me the landlords sucked. I said, Dick and Risa still own this place? Nah, he said. But pretty much the same deal? I asked. Yep. He said watch this, opened a bottom drawer in a dresser. There were some ants crawling around, feasting on some crumbs I recognized as ones I had left without cleaning up. Then he stuck his hand in the drawer, held it still. A swarm of roaches swooped up and surrounded his hand--he pulled it out. Wow! I was impressed/revolted. I didnt mention that I felt partly responsible for the state of this place. It was a background guilty hum. I called Ann over, and had the guy (whose name was Art, it seemed) repeat the little display. She got viscerally disgusted, had to go sit down. I think Im going to puke! she said. You cant do stuff like that to me! I explained to Art that it was a pregnancy thing. He just looked very closely at her, quietly. Later Ann & I were on a boat, maybe getting ready for dinner or some pleasurable outing. Lights and music glowed across the bay. I had text messages on my phone: Hey, its Art, just wondering if you guys can hear me with your tongues in McDonalds food, or better yet, if youre still alive.... There were other messages. He had been trying to get ahold of us. Now heres the funny part. I had had this image of him as this wild, wily, street-smart guy who was so much braver and less domesticated than us. He didnt need us! He was the cool one! And to discover that, having been unearthed so to speak by us, he actually wanted to talk to us, bad enough that he wasnt too proud to leave multiple messages, well that was just a big reversal of my perception of the way things were. I began to be glad I had left the sailboat and stuff behind. (I woke up before getting a chance to contact him....) *** So this morning you said a long-haired bearded guy was teaching you how to sail, and I was hoping it was him, that we got in touch with him. (Sorry it made your arm sore, though!) I love it when our dream worlds interact. Reminds me of how we got together in the first place. I hope you & Megsta are having a good day. See ya sooooooooon. love, m@