{"id":296,"date":"2007-02-12T17:52:00","date_gmt":"2007-02-12T17:52:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/?p=296"},"modified":"2007-02-12T17:52:00","modified_gmt":"2007-02-12T17:52:00","slug":"a-dream","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/?p=296","title":{"rendered":"A Dream"},"content":{"rendered":"

(Those of you who hate when people tell you about their dreams [like me, most of the time] can skip over this.)<\/span><\/p>\n

Had a dream about Adam Hammerman<\/a> last night. The great thing about dreaming about him is that he is now, by law, required to have a dream about me and then write about it on his<\/span> blog which has a larger audience (I assume) than mine. Here it goes:<\/p>\n

So I’m down in St. Louis (although it’s not really<\/i> St. Louis…though it could have been I guess, we were inside the whole time) visiting Adam. We’re hanging out in this strange series of tunnel-like finished basement rooms: Carpeting, wood-paneling, cheap-and-very-thin interior doors. We’re walking from one room to the next when we hear someone coming down the hall. I decide we need to hide from whoever is coming. Adam agrees. We backtrack to the previous section of tunnel\/basement and are giggling with anticipation of approaching silliness and hiding-from-people. Adam says something like, “We can’t just stay here, we’re out in the open.” So we go into an adjoining room and partially close the door.<\/p>\n

There, we are even more giddy with anticipation, literally jumping up and down. I think we were just in our socks. We’re acting like we’re 12. The footsteps approach, the door opens and it’s….<\/p>\n

This guy I used to work with at closerlook<\/a>. I can’t remember his name — he was a designer. I think it was Dan. Anyway — he comes in and greets us and seems to know Adam (though, to my knowledge, in reality, they’ve never met) and we chat a bit.<\/p>\n

Next, we’re in the same complex of underground finished basement rec-room tunnels, but in a larger space which also happens to be a cafeteria of some sort. There are tables and many folks sitting around. We’re seated at a table. Adam gets a call on his cell phone. It’s my friend Jon Cates (another person Adam has probably never met, though Jon’s originally from Belleville, which is very near St. Louis) and they are chatting up a storm. Jon is somewhere else (not Chicago, not St. Louis, I think perhaps Detroit). Adam says, “Yes, I’m hanging out with Adam Altman. We’re having fun….” (It’s funny, this connection between Adam & Jon Cates. Thinking about it afterwards, I realize they would probably have a ton to talk about in that they are my two outside-the-box critical-thinking performing friends….)<\/p>\n

The call ends. Adam gets a text message from yet another friend of mine that he likely wouldn’t know, John Kamplain. I attempt to read the message over his shoulder, but he is being secretive. The part that I do see reads (I’m paraphrasing here, of course): “Adam — the reason I like hanging out with you is that your iron stomach allows us to try all sorts of new foods…”<\/p>\n

Which brings us to the finale. At a table nearby, there is a gigantic insect thing. It was 8 legs, wings, a nasty looking tail. It’s terrifying. It’s also translucent. It’s also about as big as my hand. Perhaps a little bigger. I consider warning the people at the table when the thing takes off, flies in an arc to a couch on the other side of our table. It then flies to behind the couch.<\/p>\n

I then wake up and have several moments of fear or gigantic insect-type things and whatnot.<\/p>\n

So there it is.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

(Those of you who hate when people tell you about their dreams [like me, most of the time] can skip over this.) Had a dream about Adam Hammerman last night. The great thing about dreaming about him is that he is now, by law, required to have a dream about me and then write about […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-296","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-dreams"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/296","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=296"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/296\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=296"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=296"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.illinoir.com\/wp\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=296"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}