March 25, 2001
The caged girl can't stop laughing
From today's nap:
On The Spin Room, Tucker Carlson and Bill Press were going to be talking to the inventor of breast implants that were surgically implanted, then users (or anyone with the remote control) could inflate as desired. They were constantly turning the dial on Mandy Moore while she was in concert, and giving a diatribe about "What if the remote fell into the wrong hands?" Tucker simply giggled, "We're always the wrong hands." Meanwhile, I found in my closet (the Summitlawn house again) a sports bra from cheerleading and, in my dream (and it's completely accurate), I remarked that it was incredibly strange--I never once even had the desire to try out for cheerleading after age seven. I got it out though and thought about trying it on just to see what happened. Of course, I became so engrossed in TV that nothing happened. I heard Free Design's "Bubbles" playing and immediately turned to the computer to get on the Spin Room and discuss Free Design. While they were playing it, Bill and Tucker were on board a submarine, playing with the controls. It was Tucker's turn to say that they were going to break for ads, but Tucker wouldn't speak--he was too busy eating.
At that moment, Mom came in and wanted to use my computer. So I got off the Spin Room while the chat program was still loading and went to a different computer. When I left her, it was on her start page: a dark teal green, swirly-patterned thing that said "who wants to boogie" across the top. I went into a different room, completely empty (and I thought about how much more space the parents had since I moved out), and got online. Of course, I didn't have a TV anymore, so the Spin Room was somewhat out. At some point while moving from room to room, I noticed my hair was shoulder-length (about 8 inches shorter than it is now), and, even more terrifying, my bangs were exactly like Mom wanted them when I was twelve: two rows curled back, two rows curled forward, then teased and hair sprayed. Ugh.
Matt and I got stuck in a Harry Dean Stanton-type movie. He had a fourteen-year-old alcholic brother, and the cops were always coming by looking to see if he was drinking so they could bust them both: Matt for negligence, and the brother for underage drinking. They came by one time, and I advised Mom to get lost. We were sitting on their driveway (they lived in the family for whom I was petsitting's barn) and I ran. Mom said she was going to stay put and knit: she hadn't done anything wrong. Neither had I, but she was more trusting than me. I told her to tell Matt that, if he was free, to meet me in a restaurant at Park City at 10. I couldn't think of one, so I stayed in the shadows of the house all day before they left. Matt wasn't taken in, but he did leave with two friends and a girl in a cage in the back of a pick-up. I ran after the pick-up and threw glass bottles at them until they stopped. The caged girl was laughing the whole time at me running after them. I asked Matt where he was going: he didn't know. I pulled out a book, probably a text version of the movie we were stuck in, and we realized we had skipped all of chapter two. We were thus on our way to Adamton or Laugton, Alabama: we'd eventually go everywhere, including from Tennessee to the Great Lakes three times. Paths were color-coded, and we were on the pine green path right now, headed south from wherever we were (Southern Kentucky, most likely), headed for Alabama. During this process, I had a vision of an aerial view of the US, including Florida being entirely trees and New England being wholly concrete.
I was spending the night with Matt and his two friends: I think the caged girl just slept in her cage. One of his friends shared a strawberry Fruit Rollup with me after joking that it "got all smashed."