Last night's dream:

I was a contestant on Project Runway. My roommates on the show were a very tall, flamboyant, screamingly funny, gay black man from Miami named Alice (Yes, Alice. Why? I don't know.), and a gay Cambodian guy named Victor (whose hair was in a long, iridescent, purple-and-red Mohawk that reminded me of a Siamese Fighting Fish). Our living arrangement was weird, because all of the other contestants were living in men-only and women-only apartments.

( In which 'Zen master' is the new 'inscrutable Oriental.' )

Random snippets of dream dialogue:

"I like my men skinny and my books fat." This was said by me, to my mother.

"Oh, honey, I don't think you're divorced from reality at all. You just maintain separate residences." Said by my mother, to me.

And then my late ex-boyfriend showed up, driving the biggest shiny-red pickup truck I'd ever seen. It had a loud, clattering diesel engine, a double cab, and just about every bell and whistle available. He was all excited, and grinning from ear to ear. My first thought: "How did he manage to buy a truck like that? There's no way he can afford it." And then I realized, "It doesn't matter; the heart attack will kill him long before the repo man shows up." So I climbed up into the cab of his new truck--which was fitted out as a small living room, in a very plush kind of '70s style, with bronze-tinted mirrors on the walls and a red velvet sectional sofa and deep, golden shag carpet. We just hung out and talked (about what, I don't remember) and ate the Chinese food he'd brought. I thought about jumping him for old times' sake--the decor seemed to demand getting it on--but we never quite managed it. Before he left, I gave him a hug and said, "I'm glad being dead has worked out so well for you."

Nothing to see here, kids; I've gone completely friends-only.

I do not friend random strangers just because they have added me. If I don't already know you, there is no point in friending me--I will not friend you back. It's nothing personal; I simply prefer to keep my friends list small, and limited to people I know well.