We’re painting the roses red

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I was taking my morning constitutional, a walk down to Diedrich's for coffee and a muffin, when I took notice of some gardeners doing something I have never seen before–something that would have been surprising outside of Newport Beach, but something that, in retrospect, seems perfectly reasonable in the crazy superficial land of Orange County.

The gardeners were spray painting the grass green.

I am sure that the green pigmented substance they were spraying on the grass had other properties–nutrients to help the yellowing grass, maybe pesticides, maybe seeds, but the fact of the matter is that they were spray painting it on the grass. The sidewalks next to the grass had green airbrushed edges because of it. You could also see the demarcation between the land owned by the people that paid for the spray painting and the neighbors. Like a geopolitical map in grade school, one jurisdiction was green, and the neighboring one was yellow. There were no other markers–no fences or walkways–the solid field of grass was just green on one side and yellow on the other.

Last night, I had a dream I was buying shoes–boots, specifically. It was in The Gap, of all places. I never go to The Gap. I would hate the place on general principal, if I ever really thought about it, but I do not. I think we can thank heman for planting The Gap meme in my head. So, I went there and they were on sale, so I just had to get them because I needed new boots and the price was a little high, but still pretty good. And then I come to find out that the price I was quoted was per boot, but the sale price is even lower than I was quoted. Still, I'm paying more, but I really want them, so I go ahead with it. Oh, and for a little more, we can throw in this iMac that runs OS X. Well, I have always wanted one, so I decide okay, even though I will now be eating Ramen for the next few weeks. Oh, and for a little more, we will add this Apple e-book reader and modernized Palm/Newton organizer. Now, I already have an organizer that is a phone and can read e-books, but something in me says “okay, I'll do that, too.” So I will not be able to afford to eat for a few weeks, but at least I have all this new stuff that I do not need!

Later, out in the parking lot, someone shows me a bootelg video tape of Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson doing all sorts of jokes and sight-gags about Zionism. Supposedly they were scenes that were cut from a movie (Zoolander?), then later cut from the extra features on the DVD. I found it hysterically funny, though. At that point, I woke up to an NPR piece on the clock-radio about Zionism.

Posted in: Dear Diary Dreams

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