Sunday was the Houston v Austin roller derby with lots more fun, convincing Bob Hewett and Bill Fergerson to come out, and hanging with the roller girls afterward (even though they lost to an amazing Hot Rod Honeys team) and actually meeting a few of them I hadn’t previously talked to.
The drive home was bathed in yellow wild flowers almost the whole way. When I get home I have two emails from different friends who had dreams about me:
Are you OK? I dreamed you died last night, but how you died was disbuted.
Someone said that you got on stage at a concert and the woman singer punched you in the head and it caused your brain to swell, and that there was a youtube video of it. and the woman was going to use this to promote her band.
then i heard you had one of those happy meal alien toys that sing, and was making it sing and a group of junior high students attacked you and you died from swelling of the brain.
then your mom called me to let me know the funeral was going to be tuesday.
and another, a bit less harsh:
I dreamed we took a nap together. We were at the beach, waiting to take a shower. We were in a room without any furniture so we slept on the floor.