Keith Baldwin

January 22, 2006

Last night I dreampt of you. Not in a weird way. In fact it was way too normal a dream to be satisfying (If i had been conscious of the fact that I was having a dream about Daniel Pinkwater I would have put some effort into bizzare happenings). Anyway, I think it stems from the fact that the night before I snarked out for the first time (due to hometown limitations, this involved going to bed early, getting up at around midnight, watching an hour of TVland, then walking to timhortons for a doughnut and some hot chocolate. Without waking my parents of course.) so I guess I’ve got pinkwater on the mind. The annoying part is, you weren’t doing anything cool like snarking out, you were just hosting a little party. You were very Gatsbyesque (not in that you were obsessed with an unrequited love, you were just a charming somewhat smarmy host old sport) and as soon as I woke up it bothered me. You can’t possibly be like that can you? And Jill can’t possibly be so vague and undefined (just because i’ve never seen a picture of someone doesn’t mean they are Indistinguishable Ford Grammit!)! Please dispell my anxiety and I’ll agree to keep you and yours out of my subconscious .

Dreams speak truth. Like every writer or artist who's any good, Jill and I are completely boring, conventional, and grown-up in person. I even have a charming and somewhat smarmy old sport jacket.