Dad and I were on a road trip in Kentucky. I showed him the mile markers that didn’t go in order. A couple drove by us and Dad said they were the ones who let us use their cabin in colorado on a windy night.

I was working as a floral arranger in the mall. I was talking about Caryn’s four children (Nathan, Inga, Sarah, and someone else) with her nanny, primarily about not switching Nathan to a different school because he’d think he was moved because he was too stupid. The other son needed that though. I also told her that Nathan was tired of getting a present that was just a step (like a computer book) instead of the whole thing (the computer and a book). Then Jon bounded into the store with the combination broadway musical and goosestep movement that’s entirely his own. He saw me and nearly started to run. Matt came in at the same time. By the time they both got to me, I was on the phone answering someone else’s questions. I waited on Jon first–Matt wasn’t there to buy anything. Jon wanted long purple trumpeting flowers in his arrangement and one bright pink one. Matt eventually came behind the counter and took over, saying “I work here too.” Jon had brought a twelve year old boy with a Gameboy printer to print off his card and seal the gift envelope. While Matt helped him, I had to help this girl cut out pictures for her cassette tape liner notes. Matt, Jon, and I went out in the mall and it started to snow. Bill Clinton was laying on a square bench around the trunk of a peach tree. He was babbling about his favorite southern recipes. That night Matt and I had pumpkin soup in a sugary pastry crust. “I bet you’re not going to give me my flowers,” I said, convinced that Jon was going to give me the flowers and that’s why he couldn’t tell me what to write on the card. So Matt and I fought over whether the flowers were mine or not.

I was on a roadtrip with Mom. I lived in an apartment that hung over the road, so I pretended that cars were crashing into my house. I took War Machine (Matt’s Suburban) to an Arkansas wedding portrait store and it was robbed. Mom and I were going to fly to Boston, but it was hailing and the air was so dense that the hail couldn’t even fall: it was just suspended in the air. At the restaurant, the waitress said I “was supposed to get mesh in your baked potato” and started digging through it. I slapped her hand away and told her that it was my potato, mesh or not, and I was going to take it home in a box until she touched it. Then Mom and I went on spinny rides.

I accidentally hung up a naked poster of Britney Spears in my office at work. She was wearing a cupless bra and holding a teddy bear between her breasts. She also had a penis and ugly legs. Once I realized how grotesque it was, I stapled a Chicago t-shirt over it just before Howard came in with the mail. He threw down the mail and said, “Caryn’s getting her master’s degree.” I pointed at the door to the metals studio and said I was going to make it metal and cover it with magnets from Arkansas. “Ugh,” he said, “I hate those.” Stephanie then came in and tried to cut up her Columbia House Play card.

I had a big, long, involved dream about Gene and Randy throwing a party. It started to snow. Someone couldn’t stop talking about my Saturn having low air in its tires. I ate a lot of ice cream there and washed the ketchup off my hands.

Grandma stopped by for a visit. We exchanged pleasantries, like “How are you?” “Fine, how are you?” She was wearing a lavender shirt and lemon yellow shorts. I only started crying when we both got on the phone and I kept asking Mom, “Can you hear her? She’s here.”

Kathleen and I went in the petites door on the east side of J.C. Penney’s at Towne East. We shopped for clothes briefly, Kat deciding to wear a suit. These old guys were all dancing around us in slow, arthritic motions. As Kat walked by two Arab men, they did the macho head nod thing. As I followed her, I kept chasing after her saying, “I have a suit at home.” We then saw two boys fighting, then we pointed out how they were both wearing orange. We asked if there was a pumpkin fad going on, pretending that we didn’t know that Halloween was coming. I asked if it was like Pac-Man or Garbage Pail Kids. They just stared at me. Then we saw George W. Bush (Dubya) on the floor. He was in prime form, explaining to us that, although he found our young, nubile bodies attractive, he didn’t think of them sexually. Instead, he thought about us “merging,” but he also said he “wouldn’t say that.” We went out and watched a failed attempt to have people chant “from Wichita to across the nation.” The security guard spoke too slowly. I then decided to ask for Dubya’s autograph. When we got back in the store, he was gone. Kat started looking at jewelry cases filled with Happy Meal toys. Then another Kathleen (redhead, not blonde) got in blonde Kathleen’s way. Once “now Kat” and I got in the way of “then Kat” and a bunch of mean glares were exchanged, I mentioned that there’s one reason to avoid cloning: more competition for the stuff you want. Kat just said, “well, that was weird.”

We then went outside (which was the Peterson playground), and all the Designing Women were throwing punches. Nancy L. picked my pocket when she hugged me, so I playfully slugged her and she gave it back to me. I found Barb and we went through her school notebook: she had a Franklin Spelling Ace, calculator, cd player, etc. Her car stereo handbook had her name (which was Violet in the dream) printed in the text. “Must be nice,” I mentioned.

I owned a museum of presidential weight loss memorabilia (but no Martin Van Buren stuff).

I had a Little Tykes car and I went to WSU for some reason. I drove it too near the mound of hospital ID bracelets and thumb tacks, thus getting a flat tire. I folded the thin rubber tire and put it in my pocket. Then I remembered that Little Tykes cars should have solid plastic wheels.

I was swimming in a pool with Meegan and several others. When the ringleader woman cut open an orange, it was filled with bugs. Eventually, we were surrounded by bugs.

Kathleen had moved to an 2-bed/2-bath apartment so I could move in with her. I was in Newton explaining it all to Mom; Dad was taking a long bath upstairs and Grandpa was taking a long bath downstairs. There was Hi-C and Coca Cola on the table. I decided to wait and take a long bath before I left.

Somehow I knew that the guy from Letterman who always sings “who let the dogs out” was trying to kill me. And I knew that a woman named Ann Watson was also going to be killed.

I saw that guy (Alan?) following me, so I stopped in this parking lot near a huge, glistening, mirror-covered church. I jumped out of the car and threw my Pokemon backpack at the car, but it went up instead of sideways. Alan opened his passenger side window and started screaming at me. By this time I was flat on the concrete.

I got up while Alan was backing up to run over me, and I ran into this run-down building across the street from the church. I ran down to the basement and found a note from Ann written on the door and found her inside. We then heard creaks upstairs. I left her there (she was too scared to move) and went upstairs. I didn’t find anything, so I ran outside. It was now dark and I think I was in Memphis. There were two black kids with bandanas over their mouths and black knit hats. They were coming for me, so I ran up to them and hit them with my taser. I then ran up the street and went further west, then north. I found a hollowed out, burnt version of Graceland. Some bystander told me it was going to become an orphanage. I told him Elvis would have wanted it that way.

***

I was at the Center on the concrete in front of Studio 3 talking with Anne Coffin about different ways to enroll when all the old MFA crew came out. Everyone hushed when we started talking about Elizabeth getting a new perm.

I went to some store. I was wearing my sheriff’s hat. They then accused me of stealing it since they sold the same hat. I told them that I didn’t take it, that I had bought it on Beale Street, but they didn’t believe me.