I woke up today to this on my weath­er page:

But I’m not going to let that get me down. This week­end is the Cleve­land Music Fes­ti­val, and while GWAR is no longer head­lin­ing, I’ll still get the chance to see The Mis­fits and avoid Mush­room­head. Tonight I’m going to see one of my ex-cowork­ers from VDS [Vene­re­al Dis­ease Ser­vic­ing] rap at the Wish Night­club. Tomor­row evening I think I’m going to be at Peabody’s/Pirate’s Cove [yarr] for the whole evening. Sat­ur­day I’m going to see the Mis­fits, and if I have any ener­gy left I’ll see what is shak­ing on Sun­day.

I also had a dream last evening that I was involved in a play that was being per­formed at my old junior high school. I found out open­ing night that my part was a speak­ing part. I also had no cos­tume and was run­ning around in box­ers try­ing to find a pair of pants to wear. To help me out, the set folks paint­ed one of my lines on a hot dog shaped pil­low. The line was: ‘Do you have mon­ey for lunch? Her head is acook.’ I have dreams involv­ing stages from my child­hood often. Many times they have noth­ing to do with per­for­mances but stages have so many inter­est­ing places to move [trap­doors, cat­walks, guy wires, cur­tains, small lunar rovers, et cetera] that my sub­con­scious seems to like to use them in order to con­vey many mean­ings quick­ly and simul­ta­ne­ous­ly. Ran­dom but cool.