Tuesday, October 6, 2009


I am about to tell you about a dream I had that I, in a sleepy haze, texted Christie about and fell back asleep and forgot it.  This is a dramatization of what I expect would have happened in my unconscious noggin, because all I have to remember it by is a drowsy, single-sentence text, which I will share at the end of this post. So here it is.

Dusk! An owl begins his nightly chirping atop a tall white pine in Bethel's very own white pine forest, hoping nervously that his call will be the only one he hears tonight. “I can’t currently think of anything to be afraid of up here in this tree,” says the owl, “but one can never be so sure when Dusk! is yelled at the beginning of a paragraph.”

Freshmen lay their little sweet heads down on the brand-new pillows Mommy got for them and cozy up underneath their fancy duvets. Nothing can hurt them tonight, right?


“Too tee too tee too,” hums the owl, to himself, “Too tee too tee tooo—WHOA!” Underneath him, an ominous black shape creeps along the floor of Bethel’s very own white pine forest. The owl’s breath catches in the back of his throat as the figure looks up at him with glowing green eyes. “I’m a puma,” it says, “Watch your back.”

The image of a popped corn kernel flashes in the sky.  This is a job for…


I jumped on to my bike and carefully rode (I learned my lesson from Over the Handlebars) to the main campus of Bethel, and see the threatening puma. Crouched behind a bush, ready to kill anyone, is the Grand-Cul Félin (that’s French for Big-Ass Cat).  Feeling mighty proud, I reached in—here kitty kitty—only to be met with ferocious claws and a roar so dinosaur-like I feared someone had extracted the DNA from a prehistoric mosquito who was eternally trapped in a drop of tree sap.

I hope some of you understood that reference.

Hmm. I thought. I can’t just lure this puma out of the bushes with some Fancy Feast and ribbon. I need something more.


I got it!

Jumping on my bike again, I pedaled out of campus, down Snelling Avenue, and over to the Target Superstore. Barging through the automatic doors, taking a quick stop at the Dollar Spot, I passed aisle after aisle, looking for the purrrr-fect  (sorry about that) tool. I needed to think quickly; that puma could strike out at any time.

At this point, I was running through the store. There was no time to lose. Luckily, I soon found exactly what I needed: a few Ethernet cords and some pizza joint refrigerator magnets.

I pedaled back to Bethel, pushed my way through the crowd of people like a Ethernet cord-wielding Moses, and said, “Don’t worry, folks. I’ll get this kitty out of here.”

The U.S. government currently is not allowing me to tell my bloggies how I used some Ethernet cords and pizza magnets to bring a giant cat into submission and take it from the campus, but I will tell you this: that night, I became the MacGyver of cats. Feline-ver. MacGycat. No.


That’s what most likely happened in the dream I can’t remember. Here’s what I had to work with…

“I dreamed there was a big, evil puma outside of Bethel and I went to target to buy some Ethernet cords and pizza store magnets to kill it.”


  1. Your self portraits are really coming along nicely! Your whippie dip on the top of your head....your biceps....your I-can-talk-any-one-into-anything big goofy smile.Very nice artwork!

    I also enjoyed the creativity you used to flesh out the one sentence dream description.

    The image of the popcorn in the night sky was a high point in this dramatic story for me.

    Was "Pizza Slut" really necessary though? :-)


    P.S. Sooo glad you learned your lesson about being careful on your bike. (next step...HELMET!)

    P.P.S. Is "Grand-Cul" really French for Big-Ass? Or did you just make that up?

  2. thanks. i figured if i'm the hero of my dream, i should have a little muscle. the smile, the whippie dip, and the cape is real-life me.

    yes, pizza slut was necessary. of course it was.

    according to Google Translate, Grand-Cul is acceptable for Big-Ass.