Dreams from my iPhone

A few months ago, I decided to start keeping a dream journal. Basically, any time I wake up from a dream that I can remember, I furiously type up all the details as quickly as possible into a note on my iPhone. I'd like to share some of these dreams with you. And remember, these are actual notes I took about actual dreams:

• Get annoyed with my dad for the stop-start of the air conditioning in my childhood apartment while actually experiencing the stop-start of an overnight train in Morocco (8/26/09)
• Watch Venus Williams as the guest chair umpire for a final tennis match played in Midtown Manhattan. She calls Justine Henin, "That Jewish girl" (8/27/09)
  
• The night doorman from my office building starts sharing with me on Google Reader (9/13/09)
• I'm trapped in the bathtub of my childhood apartment with the waters rising. My mom tries to save me, but can't. Eventually, futuristic machines controlled by Magic Johnson and Michael Jordan save me (9/19/09)*
  
• I'm in a later season Gossip Girl-world where Blair does no work and Dan seemingly has sexual tension with a dean/teacher character played by James Franco (10/3/09)
  
• Pseudo-sexual meat market in Mexico with anthropomorphic live animals (10/17/09)
• I work hard to convince a guy at J. Crew that I can exchange a size medium tweed-style jacket I had gotten as a gift for a size small, but I'm not able to because I hadn't bought the jacket myself (11/15/09)

*I had a very similar dream that involved flooding and Jaws coming to get me in my apartment when I was around 8.

Ladies, diversify your portfolios!

If I'm stalking you across Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, Videobox, etc... I don't want to see the same 200 x 200 profile photo everywhere. You've gotta have at least 2 or 3 different shots. Even if they were actually taken at the same time, give me a different angle or something. Sheesh.

The Elm City Connectors

(Note: MoMilli and I have been talking over a potential New Haven mixtape tentatively titled "The Elm City Connectors")

[Current status - Bergman Senior]
New Haven mixtape
Be takin' quick shape
Tracks so aggressive,
Bitches gonna scream "rape!"
But wait, we all homosape,
Only evolution be revolution
Way we run the game
Ain't no mo' prostitution

Potential Song 1:

[Potential Verse 1 - MoMilli]
Biggie likes gats & stuff
Mo Milli like Gatz & scruff
Mo like mo' boys to be well-bred and read and stuff
Free curling Jewfros while they're free with free-associative thoughts on the Euthryphro
Shitty riff, though
I like mines off the cuff with a quip
When he whip out his ego trip
We not rippin' corners, we rippin' the whole block with a community redev to a new downtown mall strip
Redevelop B-way to make way for a AmAppy
The fuck you thinkin', takin' out scrappy b-men (Jason!) to scrap together multinationals (Urban!)
Strappy sandals are so oh-sev
We so-so def, social debs, I mean devs
Social deviants, we social climbin' until the cap-and-trade bubble burst
(etc.)

[Potential Verse 2 - MoMilli]
So we like up at the Courtyard
Post-game crash hard
Fresh on withdrawal with my cash card
Suddenly freaked is me
Some dude in 523 is getting Judasy on his Game roomies
Is this Marriott gonna get feisty? Nicely...
Nice ice bucket in the room next door, loud sounds
Girl cracks door open, looks around
Shuts it again, then they come out of there with a group of three
"You okay-yo with the yayo?"
They like yeah, yo
Me say "nay-yo"
Naysayers on the elevator ruminators
"Should we turn in them in soon?" they ask amongst themselves
"Oh, shit, " my girl K.V. and me mumble, it's 7:12
We gonna be late for New Moon
Should've waited for the 10:20 showing instead of something else so soon

Celebrity in the Crowd

At last night's Knicks game, we saw this:

21st Century Sport

A brief history of polar fleece

1979: One of the first forms of polar fleece is created by Malden Mills.

1997: I think it's cool to wear polar fleece everywhere. Especially if it's from Lands End.

2002: Track jackets take over. Polar fleece is worn by engineering students and overly enthusiastic residential college supporters.

2009: The mere mention of polar fleece brings to mind cheap corporate giveaways, magazine subscription enticements, and late-30s soccer moms hiding their good and bad curves. I fall in love all over again.

21st Century Therapy

This One's For Manifest Density

Took just 1 game to see that we could compete
Some irritable bowlers nearly got beat
But then we're 2 and 2, mediocrity loomed
Our pinfall low was the season doomed?
Not by a long shot
Cause this long shot
Got hot, struck a lot
And connected the dots
With the pieces in place, our average kept climbing
Hit our peak late season, talk about timing
Now the playoffs are beckoning
Other teams face a reckoning
This is judgment day on the lanes
Let's terminate them slowly, so they don't feel the pain

21st Century Sex Diary of the Narrator of Notes From Underground

Day One:
6:09 a.m. Think about how sick I am.
6:10 a.m. Think about how wicked I am.
6:11 a.m. Think about calling CoCo.
9:00 a.m. Start work for the day with my miserable co-workers. I bet they're all having office romances. Meanwhile, my dick is bigger than all of their dicks combined, but they walk around the office like they're fucking John Holmes.
12:15 p.m. Eat lunch alone at my desk. Occasionally sneak a peek at the knees of the secretaries who sit near me. The knee is the most sexual part of the leg.
5:00 p.m. Watch Jim (with his pockmarked face) and Martin (with his hideous teeth) walk out to happy hour with Katherine, who has the best knees in the office. Consider masturbating at work.
11:30 p.m. Consider masturbating at home.

Day Two
5:46 a.m. Think about calling CoCo. Wonder if she'll stop by my apartment instead.
12:30 p.m. Go to Brooks Brothers and buy the second-cheapest suit.
6:37 p.m. Put on my new suit and pick up the phone to call CoCo. Dial 3 digits. Hang up.

Day Three
5:21 a.m. Wake up from dream about CoCo. Realize that I don't have her phone number. Too many girls named CoCo on Facebook. Spend 90 minutes looking at 200x200 profile photos.
11:57 a.m. Consider "accidentally" bumping into Katherine in the office. Figure out the perfect plan.
2:59 p.m. Katherine is walking past my desk. Time to act. I look away and pretend to type in an Excel formula.
5:18 p.m. Walk by CoCo's place. Stand outside for 15 minutes pretending to do something useful on my phone. Walk around the block while thinking about going inside. Walk home.
11:12 p.m. Read reviews of Fleshlight for an hour. Decide that it's probably not worth it.

Day Four
4:49 a.m. Think about friending every CoCo in New York on Facebook. Realize that Korean handjob masseuses probably aren't on Facebook.
4:50 a.m. Consider masturbating. Start typing in videob...delete that and go to Google Image search. Switch from strict to moderate filtering. Search for Sasha Grey. Get lots of photos from The Girlfriend Experience movie premiere.
4:54 a.m. Go back to sleep.
1:12 p.m. See old college classmate at local deli. Look down and try to walk away. Hear him say my name. Keep walking. Feel him put his hand on my shoulder. Agree to meet him and 3 other cretins for drinks the next day at 6.
10:25 p.m. Think about inviting CoCo out with my college classmates. Hang out in front of her massage parlor.

Day Five
4:21 a.m. Get home.
8:16 a.m. Practice in the bathroom mirror asking Katherine what she's doing this weekend.
2:44 p.m. Accidentally reply-all to company-wide email.
2:51 p.m. Overhear Katherine asking Martin, "Who's the guy that just sent that weird email? Does he work here?"
4:57 p.m. Watch Katherine walk right by me and leave for the weekend.
6:00 p.m. Arrive for drinks. Wait at the bar alone and make furtive eye contact with at least 3 women. Order no drinks.
7:00 p.m. Pretend to care about what my classmates have done since college. Actually care even more than I am pretending. Every one of them is both more successful and less intelligent than I am.
11:23 p.m. Suggest to everyone that we get massages.

Day Six
12:37 p.m. Wake up on CoCo's massage table. Tell her that she's a lousy masseuse who should have stayed in Korea and that New York will bring nothing but suffering to her and her family. Ask for her email address.
4:00 p.m. Call my only acquaintance, who is also my boss, and ask him to lend me money. Tell him it's to help me set up a home office. It's really to buy CoCo flowers and champagne.

Day Seven
3:35 a.m. Create a flirty someecard for CoCo. Send her a generic ecard from a mainstream site.
2:25 p.m. Visit massage parlor rating site and type up a bad review for CoCo. Delete it.
10:04 p.m. Regret not getting at least a handjob from CoCo.

Totals: Two aborted handjob massages; three aborted attempts at masturbation; five days of staring at knees; zero ejaculations