Monthly Archives: December 2008

Cleaning a public park

I’m Hillary Clinton and I’m supposed to clean up a public park that has been left strewn with garbage by Sarah Palin. I go around the park with soldiers to help clean. One of them throws a large metal oil drum at me. When I’m finished cleaning the park, it’s actually a bedroom that’s decorated in a typical middle-American traditional style.

My mother calls me to ask how the process is going. She only asks me “yes or no” questions like “Have you finished picking up the garbage yet?” After a few questions I start to be frustrated that she wants to talk to me, but never asks me anything that I can actually respond to. My replies get shorter and snippier, and finally I tell her I don’t want to talk on the phone anymore because I have work to do.

The New Bond Website

I am in a large lecture hall with a number of younger students. The room has long black writing tables and an area at the front for the teacher to lecture. I am sitting at one of the classroom tables, drawing sketches for the new Bond website. I have a clear idea of how I want the site to work, but I am having trouble getting it down on paper. It seems like every drawing I do has something wrong with it.

Josh is up at the front of the room, discussing ideas for the site with the rest of the students. At a certain point I become alarmed because people are talking about ideas that I don’t agree with and aren’t what I’m envisioning for the site. I decide to go up to the front and share what I’ve been working on. When I review my sketches I try to find the one that is closest to what I’m imagining, but they’re all not quite right.

At the front of the room, Josh and I are seated behind a black panel with windows cut into it. From the perspective of the students, it looks like the teacher is talking to them directly, but behind the scrim we can talk privately, consult our notes, and even have snacks. Josh has a nearly full bottle of vodka and some sandwiches back there, and I help myself.

The students are getting quite agitated about our plans for the website. I can’t quite tell if they’re in junior high, college, or even if they’re young employees of Bond. They are shouting and arguing with both me and Josh. He’s pretty calm but I get increasingly frustrated. I yell back at them that their ideas are too boring an ordinary. I tell them that if they don’t understand why our vision is right for Bond, then maybe the problem is that they are not a good fit.

This makes them very upset and they decide to protest. The entire third row stands up and lights cigarettes. While they smoke, I call down to the main office to ask for help from security. The secretary in the office sounds bored and tells me they can’t really help solve this problem.

Friedman’s gifts

Friedman likes a girl with short brown hair. He decides to buy her some gifts to show how much he likes her.

He buys her nine different presents. Instead of wrapping each one up and watching her open them, he makes a video of the gifts and posts it on YouTube. When I ask him why he didn’t just give her the presents, he says that isn’t necessary anymore, and this new way is better.

Lost in a Hotel

I am traveling with a very large group of people, including some of my extended family. The hotel we’re staying in has labyrinthine corridors and I’m lost.

The rooms are not numbered in sequence, and each room has two numbers. The first is a regular 3-digit number, but the second is a 6-digit number, like 62-2324. I know what room I’m looking for, but all the rooms have a very similar combination of numbers, so it’s difficult to determine at a glance which room is the correct one.

The hotel has posters and display cases for medical objects and paraphernalia. Near my hotel room there is a poster that shows a man from three different angles: front, side, and a three-quarter view. The differentiating thing about this man (and I assume the reason he’s been captured on a poster) is that on first glance he appears to have a faux-hawk, but upon closer inspection one realizes that he has a vagina on his head.

As I navigate through the corridors I try to find this poster again, both because I know it is near my hotel room, and also because I want to point it out to my traveling companions.