also I dreamed last night that the smithsonian had a wing for riot grrrl. but it was kind of decrepit and in need of upkeep.

From the dream files: dreamt last night I was in Portland watching a man with walk down the street, no pants just tidy whiteys , suit jacket on top. He was wearing a baseball cap, ZZ Top beard and sunglasses on the back of his head, and had long should-length grey hair.

Last night, I dreamt that Vanessa Place was my physician, and I visited her for some now unrecallable ailment. I can't remember exactly what she said to me in the dream -- probably something like this from her @vanessaplace2 Twitter account: "Wanting to be a poet is like wanting a bad cough," or "All you are is either a symptom or material." Or this from an interview at Fanzine: "All we are are our symptoms, and we do love our symptomology…".