July 07, 2005
Is it the wine, or the town?
About 7:30 now, been up since 6, in spite of being tired and sated with wine. Last night Dean, Deb and I had dinner at the Cliff House. Gorgeous place near the remains of the Sutro Baths. The trees have that windblown look. Between us there was good food (garlic soup, prawns and spaghetti, macadamia-nut encrusted halibut) and two bottles of white - the second a Sonoma wine, Ferrari Corrano(?). As beautiful as the foggy view - there was a rock out in the water, a small crag of its own really, with cormorants dotting every available foothold - as great as the food, even better was the company. Is it too soon to say that I'm really happy to have made such great new friends? 'Cause yeah, I'm sappy enough that I want to say that.
Just before I woke, I dreamed I was sitting on the floor in a crowded NYC subway car, chatting with the guy who played Wesley on Buffy and then on Angel. A cute gal standing near us was taken with our vaguely flirty conversation, and suddenly she and Wesley were making out in front of all of us. I felt vaguely offended, and spent the rest of the dream thinking about why it bothered me, and how I was going to blog it. I saw myself writing about it in a journal, and then at a computer, writing a more selective, more edited version of it.
I don't remember dreaming about blogging before. And here I was dreaming about blogging a fictional experience - it's either head-junk or maybe there's some symbolism going on. Sort of a Naked Lunch dream, my brain having been saturated with a kaleidoscope of sight, sound and taste, minus the heroin.
Hmmm. I think I need some coffee.