March 4th, 2005

Attack of the Killer Chihuahua!

(no subject)

I just had the weirdest fucking dream.

I'm entering a luxury suite at a stadium to watch a game. It's more of a fancy restaurant than it is a place to watch games, so I am somehow more concerned with my food order than I am with the Chargers game. As I'm entering the room, a sexy woman walks in with me and invites me to sit with her. I sit next to but with my back to the plexiglass facing the field. My sexy friend is a couple of seats away to my left, but this was the closest seat to her. Then someone, I can't remember if my dad or a friend, comes from another section to sit with me. I am otherwise surrounded by old ladies that separate me from my lady friend.

Then I am walking down a country road, passing all sorts of farms selling produce. I go into one of them, walking amongst the stalls and bins, to see what is being sold: nothing really interesting, corn and the such. I keep walking down the road past other stores, wondering who won the game and if "the guys" will be meeting up somewhere afterwards. I guess I'm looking for food that the guys would appreciate after a football game. I stop at another farmstand to ask what's farther down the road and get a vague answer. Someone calls my cell phone. On the other end is a soft, male voice. "Do you know who this is?" The display on my phone reads "John Casaletto," who at the time I associate as being one of my travelling Chargers-fans friends. (In real life I can't put his face to his name, so I can't recall if I've met him, but he is someone Tubby invited to the Super Bowl party.) I don't remember what we talked about. But I remember asking him who won the Chargers game and where people were meeting. He didn't answer the former and wasn't sure about the latter.

I go back to my aunt's place (so I'm in Panamá now???) to wait. I try calling a few people. My sister calls. She is criticizing me about one pick I made -- I must have helped her pick the winners of games, and she says I was wrong about Oklahoma, apparently the only pick I got wrong, but a costly one. I hang up with her. There's this big, sullen, mean-looking guy sitting at the dining room table, playing cards or something. He acts distrustfully and threatening towards me. I had placed a carton with a battery in it on the table, and when he thinks I'm not looking he grabs it and hides it. I see this and am pretty pissed. I uncover where he's hid the battery and snatch it back, sans packaging carton. Walking from the living room to the terrace I hear the t.v. game playing a highlight from an Oklahoma-Mississippi State football game with the announcer declaring, "And with 2 seconds left, Mississippi State...." I still don't know who won, though.

I sit down and start trying to call people to figure out where we're meeting up. I know I called briganski but don't recall who else. I notice a creepy shadow cast from behind me. I turn to see a big-ass spider hanging several inches behind my head. I get up to walk away. John Casaletto calls again, but I'm really more concerned about this spider, who seems to have noticed me, than I am about the news he has about the get-together. As I'm getting ready to walk back into the living room, I notice how big the spider really is. It's monstrous and brown...and has wings. Wings! Leathery wings, like a bat's...and it starts flapping them, slowly and ominously. I guestimate a four-foot wingspan and get scared, very scared. I dart into the living room and towards the front door, where I intend to head down the stairs, but the big mean-looking guy prevents my exit because he needs to have a talk with me about something. The huge winged spider is in pursuit, and as I run around the room to avoid it, I keep hoping it will attack the big guy. But no, the spider lands on my foot. I manage to squish it to death as it bites me, but not before it takes a chunk of flesh and injects me with whatever venom it may have. I'm trying to call my aunt on my cellphone and trying to get people to notify Alerta (the ambulance service) when I wake up, sore all over.