31/05/2002 - 1:48 p.m.

Last night I had the strangest dream

Be careful what you wish for. You've all heard the joke about the twelve inch pianist? Yes.

That's not the most appropriate introduction. It's not really on the same track, except in my mind.

Last night I dreampt that I was at Roosevelt, up in the balcony because I had just been in some show or another. A bunch of random non-Roosevelt people (including Munchkin), Andy and I had been in this sort of Hope Troupe type of show, but it was over now, and I was up in the balcony. I left the balcony out the back, to go try and wheedle some consessions out of somebody. So, of course, the hallway behind the balcony wasn't Glawe's, but the front hall of the school: the whole auditorium had sunk into the floor just so I could try and get a candy bar. A girl from my choir class (I should know her name, but can never think of it) wouldn't sell me anything because Barbie wanted to save all the candy for the show choir tomorrow.

I walked out onto the front lawn, which had become a giant swimming pool, rather like the fountains at Thespian Festival. There were a whole bunch of guys there talking about how great their show had been and all the others sucked, and so I realised that for some reason, Roosevelt had become the Thespian Festival spot (oh, how amusing). All these guys would try to find people from other shows and dump them in the water. They kept splashing me, and I got sick of it, so I swam over to them and asked them to stop, and they wouldn't. I decided to quit arguing with them and swam back to the side where Munchkin was having a conversation with some guy. She instantly disappeared (for once) and I started talking to the guy.

Behind us, those jackasses were still dumping people off in the water, and they were getting more and more cruel- holding people under. I went over to speak to them again, and this time, they flipped me over. I hate getting my nose full of water, which is exactly what happened, and so I dumped the guy who'd pushed me off the rock he was sitting on into the water. That's when two other guys jumped on me and forced me under the water. I couldn't breath, and I couldn't move. I finally got free in time to see that the guy I'd been talking to had tried to come to my rescue. They had caught him and knocked him against the side of the pool and held him under the water for a little bit and then left.

I got over to the guy and his eyes were closed, but he was breathing. I pulled him around to a place where I could touch the bottom and his eyes were open. I asked him how he was and he said he was just fine, no problems. We kept on talking and suddenly, he collapsed. I thought something was wrong with his neck, because his head was hanging at a strange angle in the water. I started yelling for a doctor, and when one showed up, I woke up.

It occurs to me now that I think I know who the guy was.

On completely different matters, I am 2/3rds of the way packed. Sort of. I have today and tomorrow, so, I ought to be all right, right?

I'm going to miss the Tony awards. Did I mention this already? I can't remember, but I'm very distraught about it. They've got Bernedette Peters hosting (she's fantastic) and "Urinetown" is up for awards, I think. I wanted to know what that was supposed to be about. I admit, I've only watched the Tony's the past two years, but I want to keep watching them. I saw Proof win, and The Producers and it's all been very much fun. There are stars I've actually heard of, and they know how to dress themselves. I don't care, very few of the women at the Academy Awards look anything less than stupid. You don't see as much of that at the Tony's, there's a lot more class- I think, at least.

It's Peter Yarrow's birthday today. If you don't know who he is, you don't care.