distressing dreams & things I hate

2 distressing dreams. In the first I'm in a jetliner taking off and for some reason the toilet is in the front of the plane between the passengers and cockpit. We're ascending over Chicago and it's rough, sounds like the engines are about to give out. Not my first traumatic plane dream, but something significant and bad always seems to happen when I have such a dream.

In the second, I run into an old roommate, who chews me out about the manner in which I burned the bridge between us a few years back. I suppose I deserved it, even if this tongue lashing wasn't exactly real.

We ate at Ann Sather today. I think we both needed comfort food. N's bummed about her dog dying and her car on death's door. I'm bummed about the Steelers blowing another conference championship game, I guess, though I tend to think of most sports fans as "meatnecks (Andre's word, not mine)." I hate the New England Patriots. I hate their ugly-ass uniforms and their style-deficient head coach, the way they *always* get favorable calls from the officials and the way the media so willingly rimjobs the team whenever they write about them. I told N as long as that chimpanzee, Bush, is in the White House, the Patriots will win Super Bowls, simply because they're the Patriots. She called me her "little conspiracy theorist." I'm right, you know ... reichstag.