Strange Dream

May 1st, 2009

I typically forget, or discard, all memories of dreams that I have, as they tend to be so obvious in their meaning as to suggest a total lack of imagination. But the weirder ones hold a certain sway. Last night I dreamed that Beatrice Arthur, bearing a large bag of marijuana, came up to a friend and I at a party, whereupon she got us stoned and urged us to call her “Synoopa, my tribal name.”