Imaginary Conversations and Random Thoughts

Although, I'm not sure if this really qualifies as a sweet dream. First, the background. One of my must reads each day is Ace, over at Ace of Spades HQ. He's got a few guest bloggers chipping in from time to time, one of whom, Gabriel Malor, has been doing some really interesting posts lately. He adds some smarts to the place. Ace made a good call giving him a chance.

One of the ways Ace gets stories is by putting out his feelers, in the form of readers, who send him tips on interesting items. One of these tipsters is called dri. I know nothing about dri. I don't know if anyone knows anything about dri, except that we should call dri, dri.

And that was enough for me. Until the dream. And the dream disturbs me.

I'm standing in line at some event. Not like Mr. Toad's Wild Ride at Disneyland or anything. More like the line to get into an event that is not a sporting event, but which is held in an arena of one sort or another. It's a longish line. Maybe it's a concert, or, disturbing possibility number one, perhaps I'm in line to try out for American Idol.

Now just to keep the yahoos in line, the arena has naturally hired security. As is sometimes the case, the security comes in the form of off-duty police officers. As I move up a ways in line, I notice that one officer had a name bagde that says "dri." Officer dri turns out to be a rather mannish female police officer. Short, but not quite butchy red hair. Slender, but without looking petite or soft. Wiry might be a good word for it. So I mention to Officer dri that I think I might have heard of her. And she says, "From the comics, right?"

This is so not the answer I was expecting. From the comics? Officer dri went on to explain that she had been doing some freelance work on Silver Surfer, and would soon be leaving Law enforcement to write and draw the comic full time.

Before I could learn any more, before I could even mention Ace, the line moved once more, and I was cut off, never to see Officer dri again.

Later, but still in the dream, Ace broke the story of dri's move to comic books. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to memorize Ace's entire post. The only words of Ace's post to make it across the veil to wakefulness were these:

" . . . they engage in more than the usual internettery wittery.

At amateur code-compiler Stan Lee's house, they divide into two teams. Using Stan's codebreaking techniques, each team attempts to derive a comedy skit from the math homework of Stan's seventh grade niece . . . Later, the losing team has thirty minutes to prepare, and then they perform the winning team's skit . . ."

The second disturbing aspect of this dream is that this party is way cooler than any party I've ever gone to.