accidental homecoming
May 27th, 2008 by Kris Skotheim; no comments
I wake up in the Seattle-Tacoma international airport. Realizing that I just sleep-flew myself home, I start to freak out; my finals are in two weeks and ten thousand miles away, I have to buy another ticket back to Perth even though all I want to do is stay in Seattle, my mom will probably be mad at me. Once I calm myself down, I walk out of the airport into downtown, then start walking south along the waterfront. I pass a donut store and think, “I should buy a donut”, but all I have is Australian currency. I wonder if the owner of the donut shop is going to Australia anytime soon or is a collector of foreign currency, though it seems unlikely.
I nuked kazakhstan
May 21st, 2008 by Kris Skotheim; no comments
I land the airplane in Poland. I am being conscripted by the Kazakh president to nuke Kazakhstan. Looking back, this doesn’t really make much sense, but I suppose politics can be complicated. North Korean jets fly over the airport I am parked in, dropping hundreds of bombs all around us and killing the president of Kazakhstan. My airplane is heavily damaged. The wings are mostly torn off and the dorsal-fin-thing is entirely gone. The gold paint scheme is replaced with exposed, charred metal and occasional spatterings of blood. I take off anyways, and am surprised that it can still fly quite well. It takes a lot of fuel, though, so by the time I drop the bomb on Kazakhstan I don’t have enough to get back to Poland. Around me for as far as the eye can see are forest-clad mountain ranges covered in flame.
Smoking
May 18th, 2008 by Ariana Rose Taylor-Stanley; no comments
I met my mother on the side of a road, where she was smoking a cigarette. Later, I found my dad in a parking lot waiting for me to go into a party, also smoking a cigarette. His was very thin. I asked him why he was smoking, and he told me this cigarette was from a pack he had purchased when he was fourteen years old and had been working through very slowly for his whole life. I thought this was okay, but it was inconvenient to have to wait for him to finish.
(In real life, two of my roommates have recently taken up smoking.)
Too much
May 16th, 2008 by Jenny Crimp; no comments
During ceramics class at the CMA, Doug, our professor, is going to take us on a field trip somewhere and show us an installation, so everyone goes out to a shed i never noticed before in the parking lot and pulls out scooters. They come in two parts that you have to assemble: handles and seats. They are all shiny and red, and they have pull-cords to start, like lawnmowers. I try to start mine, but it just foams up, because the tank is full of windex. Since I can’t go with the rest of the class, I go back inside, where Chris L. admits to me that he’s been drinking 12 americanos a day. I make some exclamations about excess and caffeine, but we also laugh. I sit down and try to look him in the eye to tell him seriously that he should not drink so much coffee, but I can’t find his eyes, because his face is made entirely from what I now realize was coffee grounds.
who wouldn’t want a mangy dog?
May 10th, 2008 by Kris Skotheim; no comments
Ariana and I are walking down the street of some foreign city. We are on our way to something. We stop in a coffee shop to visit Adrian, who is working busily. We order drinks.
Adrian orders a ‘mangy dog’, which he explains is some combination of espresso, coffee, chocolate, and burnt milk. Ariana orders a latte. I am intrigued by Adrian’s new drink, but I just get a coffee instead. We all get ceramic cups and are told that we can pay when we’re done. Ariana and I go home and make sandwiches.
We return when done with the sandwiches to find Adrian still busily working away. We decide to order another round of drinks. Adrian asks me to order ‘a fiver’, which Ariana explains is an unlimited supply of coffee for one person. Adrian’s eyebrows are twitching and his face is pale as he asks me this, but I agree to order him an unlimited supply of coffee regardless. It costs five dollars and comes with a giant dollup of cream on top.
The time comes to pay, so everybody in the coffee shop lines up at the counter. Someone brings out a large box of stretchy toys and dumps them all on the counter, explaining that they also cost five dollars. Someone gives one to Adrian for free because he’s been such a good customer. I say, “man, my dog would go crazy for one of these”, but nobody catches the hint. Ariana tips in American dollars, which is amusing to those working the register.
Three dream fragments with (seeming) absurdly naked symbolism
May 4th, 2008 by Ariana Rose Taylor-Stanley; no comments
Lisa (my boss in the Children’s Garden) told not me to talk for fifteen minutes. This frustrated me because I needed to talk with her before I left work, which I had to do in less than fifteen minutes to avoid being late to a meeting elsewhere.
Adrian and I searched for batteries in a grocery store.
Laura asked if I ate peanut butter more than once a day. I told her I didn’t, so she told me I could put more on the piece of bread I was preparing.