Oaxacan soccer team (non)fantasy with really messed up junk

Dinner at MarJar's, tofu veggie stirfry with peanut sauce (recipe in Deb Madison, gotta try that!), water, a slice or three of chocolate birthday cake. [This dream is definitely a flash back to my crush on Pablo. We saw Mimo the other night on my birthday and Pablo and maybe his brother do make appearances in this dream.]

A young men's soccer team from Oaxaca has come to stay with us. We live in a meandering house, sort of between New Mexican Terrirtorial and Arts & Crafts. I'm out on the back porch with Evil Levi and we're joking about the guys, what crazy cats they are. Some of them are quite horny and firtly. Levi says so and so is married, and so is this other one, but he's watching out for this one or that. One in particular, Guacho (pron WATCH-oh; is this even a name or a word?), is the one to watch out for. Horny bugger.

I've recently had 33 of my 34 penises removed, however, I show him. (A surprisingly simple action on my part-- oh, look here at my genitals, see where all of this has been removed?) My junk looks like big flat head of cauliflower, but fleshy like those deformed goldfish faces, and pink. This is an awful image, but at the time I'm unconcerned. And apparently all of my penises were the size of a Mike&Ike. There's just one left, dead center. Before I could apparently have sex with large groups of people at once, but now, more appropriately, just with one.

I go to take a shower. The bathroom is cedar paneled, reminds me of the Cate's cabin when I was a kid, kind of. I get in and start soaping up my body, but then realize that I'm still wearing my shirt, one of my short-sleeved button-downs. Oh geez. Well, can I just rinse off the soap and keep the rest from getting soaked...oh forget it, I'll just have to deal.

Getting a job is hard

Native feast: Calabacitas, pinto beans, green chile cornbread. (This was a pretty great meal.)

I'm going for what I think is an interview process for a job managing a collection. But it turns out that this is some sort of application marathon, this place is chock full of people, mostly women about my age in uninspired pant suits. I already filled out an application for this gig, so I'm pretty annoyed that this is what I'm here for.

The place is weird, though. It's a very dark environment, with downlights illuminating our particular places, but otherwise...the environment is pitch black, we could be on floating platforms in the middle of space for all I can tell.

I go for a walk and end up somewhat lost in this office-y maze, still pitch black except for immediate surroundings. I find my way to an office with a living human in it, some guy in jeans and t-shirt and kind of long hair. Somehow we ascertain that he is the guy doing stop-gap on the job I've applied for. He knows who I am, and he hopes that I get the job, but it's not really his decision. He leads me back to the big place where I need to be.

Everyone has a sort of cheap-o laptop that has been handed out. It reminds me in a way of the "Computer for Every Kid" systems like Foutzy has. The keyboard is extremely narrow top to bottom, and the thumb pad mouse is strange. I have to input my info here and get it processed. Talking to that guy has encouraged me, though.

But what the fuck, some stupid woman behind me actually gets on her cellphone and is having a loud, animated conversation. (I think it's actualy Laura Ackermann from highschool, which is extremely random, and Laura I don't think would ever behave this way!) She's going on and on about being done already, and yeah, people are still working on theirs, and on and on. I turn around and trow my arms up and ask "Are you KIDDING?" She gives me a snide snarl and replies, "No." Back to her asinine conversation and she guffaws, says "You don't see THAT much...yeah this guy in front of me just told me to shut up, can you believe it?" But then a proctor-like woman comes over and throws her out. Laura's indignant. Score one for people who act like adults.

Josh's Granny and Her Used Book Shoppe (dream 2)

[see last dream]

Josh has taken me back to Missouri with him, to see where he grew up, see the towns, see his family. We're on our way to his grandma's used book store. It's in a below-street space on an elegant block of Depression era brick buildings. We go down in and it's sweet and charming, brightly lit and clean. His granny is really nice and very friendly to me. She sells books and candy and some trinkety stuff. Josh tells me of the irony that her friend runs another such shoppe at the end of the block, also downstairs and all. I need something, some product, that granny doesn't have, so I get sent down the block to the friend's store. This store is darker, more wood, and she has several people working for her, all young women toiling away at desks with ledgers or paperwork. I feel bad that I'm patronising another store, not granny's. But she sent me down here, so...

Shipping out to the Navy (dream 1)

Hot Caprese pie, tabouleh, hummus & pita, water at MarJar's.

I'm shipping out for the war, and soon, like tonight or tomorrow. I need to get everything ready, get packed, get set. I can't seem to pull myself together, though. We're at a bar or restaurant, crowded. Some guy that kind of looks like Judge Schwartz is fucking with me & my buddies. I jump up and mean to pummel him. I have him by the nape of the neck, my fist is poised to pound his face in. I hesitate, though. If I get arrested tonight, I'll miss my ship. I have to ship out, and if I pound this guy I'll let everyone down. I momentarily consider the up-side of that, but I can't let everyone down. I toss him aside. I'm too busy for this. I spend the rest of my dream desperately trying to get my things together. I make it down to the docks, but did I bring my uniform? Do I even have one? What am I going to do?