Forgery League

The phone was ringing and I tried to answer it. The phone, a new cordless, would not pick up properly. (This is a normal occurrence for us. I have bad phone-answering juju, no matter what we have for a phone.) Fine. A bit later, my pager went off, showing a number I didn’t recognize.

I pick up the phone and try to call the number. Six digits in (we have big-city 10 digit dialling here), I hear a click and a friend’s voice mail kicks in. “Hi! This is Elizabeth…” then the connection turns staticky. I hang up and try again. Was that the right number? I start dialling. Again, before I’ve finished, it kicks over, and craps out before I can leave a message. I dial again, and again, and keys are rearranging themselves. What’s the 9 doing down there on the left? Argh! I hang up, try again, get as far as the 2 and it comes out as an exclamation point.

Now, this isn’t something our phone normally does. At this point I remember something I’ve read about dreaming: you can often tell you’re dreaming because machines malfunction in strange ways. Aha. I must be dreaming, I reason. I look at the phone, and think: I bet I could fit that in my mouth. And as it turns out, I can.

Moral: Even if you have a lucid dream, it doesn’t mean you’ll be in a frame of mind to think of anything worthwhile to do.

Saw Bullfrog and Medeski Martin & Wood last night. Phenomenal. :D The stage at Harbourfront Centre is a crap venue, particularly when it rains, but it was a fine, fine show.