Sshhh.

I am doing secret things.
There is the one thing that a couple of you know about but that you may all see me do.
I'm not to tell anyone about it even after I do it. But it's coming up this summer.
Then there is the thing I'm doing tomorrow night that I can tell you about but only because it is sooo secret that even when I tell you, you won't be able to perceive it directly.
Finally, there's the other thing I'm doing that is currently so secret, I don't even know what it is and the people who won't tell me exactly what it is tell me that I can't even tell anyone what little I know until after it is finished, at which point, it may turn out that no one will know I was in it anyway.
The key lettersand numbers are CICCTCMTV50BD.
The good thing is, at least half of it pays and it could be that all of it pays a little and could lead to other secret things.
The thing I can tell you is that tomorrow night I'm playing Simon Cowell in what I can only assume is an unlicensed use of his likeness in a "Karaoke Idol" Fiftieth birthday party for a rich lady with a lot of rich friends in a private gallery space between the Prairie Avenue Historic District and Chinatown...That's right, a stone's throw from White Castle.
You ever see that episode of Seinfeld where George has access to a party filled with supermodels and when he tries to take Jerry there the next day to see where the party was, it's a butcher shop or something? That's where we're doing this. In a building surrounded by the homeless and bitter. But within this money insulated coccoon, we will all sip wine and sing hits of the seventies until hopefully several stuffed wallets are lost, never to be found by anyone but me again.
I will keep the wallets secret.

It's okay.

I had a dream that Jorge the trolley mechanic told me that my van was okay. My van has been broken down and he said he'd look at it but he still hasn't, so I dreamed that he had and that it was okay. Generally I know that dreaming about anything that has to do with travelling (i.e. walking, driving) has to do with just life and/or working (driving a trolley). I should say, I've been dreading trolley summer this year. I found today that it's okay. I mean to say that I didn't hate today. I enjoyed it. This gives me hope that summer won't be too bad...of course it's still only late spring.

I don't remember if I told you about the dream I had on Saturday. I dreamed that I was walking somewhere (felt like home) and that at some point I took the attitude of "fuck this walking. I'm gonna fly." So I did the awkward but always exhilarating dream flying which always starts out with going, "oh yeah, if i just do this, I can fly a little and everyone else is sooo stupid for not knowing how to do this." But the flying always feels like if I lean too far to one side or if I stop moving that I'll fall hard and fast. Well, in this dream, I got tired of the awkward flying and decided that I would fly higher and better than ever before. So I went up and up and up and then I realized I was above the clouds. And on the clouds I noticed there were equidistantly spaced (as if in a gridlike pattern) glass portholes which I knew led instantly (like a wormhole in space) to far away points. Basically, it was a way of going anywhere I wanted to. Unfortunately, the one place I wanted to go (home) was the one hole that was on top of a huge tall pipe and I was incapable of flying any higher. I tried but I could only get about halfway up. Then as I was standing around trying to figure it out, a guy came out (kind of nerdly, geeky) and started telling me about how he had written the novelizations for the Star Wars movies. Woke up.

At work that day, I found out early that on the route that I was to drive, a parade would cause all the stops but the ones at the endpoints of the route to be excluded. So I was flying, albeit a bit awkwardly. It didn't take long to get from one end of the route to the other without stopping in between. Then the police let it be known that we couldn't stop at one of those stops. So then I had to improvise. Where would I pick up the people on that end of the route? Wherever the hell I wanted to...except for the real stop (home).
Finally, toward the end of the day, we had all the stops returned to us (I was "home") and as soon as the route started to move normally with all the stops included, a little kid got on my trolley, sat in the front seat and started talking about nothing but Star Wars to me. And a couple seats back a nerdy, geeky guy started talking about "great stuff" that he knew. Did I want to hear a Saddam Hussein Christmas Carol? Nope. And I told him so. Twice.
Weird huh? Grid, portholes=grid system of streets, stopping anywhere I wanted to. Home=the regular route. Star Wars nerd= Star Wars kid combined with weird geeky nerd on same trolley.
You get it.
The gift strikes again and again and again. And if you don't believe in it, it's okay. It doesn't have to make any sense to you. It's for me. And sometimes, I don't even believe it. I'm just not quite as cynical as Penn and Telller.

Ate dinner tonight.
Typing in blog currently so that wife doesn't ask me to dry dishes as she washes them...expecting other shoe to drop...soon.
soon.