Solsbury Hill

My dreams have been much more vivid lately, and within the randomness, I'm beginning to see strange patterns. I don't see them repeated with each dream, though enough during the week to make me scratch my head.

Now me hooking up with attractive Asian women in my dreams? OK, that's rather obvious. I'm also having Duke dreams again. But how about me traveling to Baltimore?

About a week ago, I dreamt I was on a plane flying to Baltimore. I decided to voluntarily relocate to the Baltimore office, and I was positively giddy about it. I looked out of the window, and the noon sun was over the Chesapeake Bay making the water into quicksilver and gold. There was a thin ribbon of concrete parallel to the beach which I knew to be the bridge connecting the Baltimore-Annapolis-DC corridor to the Eastern Shore. When I saw the bay, I became excited at the prospect of spending a weekend just chilling in Annapolis, and then heading toward some small bed and breakfast on the Eastern Shore to eat some crabs.

When I got to the airport, the afternoon passed rapidly. I took out my cell phone to call the new office. Once in a while, the home office screwed up and didn't give a heads up. I wanted to make sure the Baltimore office knew I was coming. But I dropped my cell phone down three floors. I rushed down the spiral stairway to salvage my phone. And then I had to get in line for the baggage claim. The airport kept changing the terminal for the baggage pickup. By the time we were directed to the right terminal, it was already dark outside. I woke up frustrated.

Last night, I dreamt I was watching a reverse time-lapse of some Greek coastal city. The coast line when from beach to cliff, with modern buildings being taken down and replaced by ancient buildings. Marble parthenons replaced silver skyscrapers. Then it went all first person perspective, and I was riding on a train that eventually took me to a beach in Maryland. There was some sort of festival on the beach. I remember thinking all the tourists were all at Fort McHenry, instead of enjoying the food, the sand and the deep blue Atlantic. I was looking for someone. I didn't know who. I woke up when the phone rang, and I have no idea how I felt.

Dusk You And Me

Views from My Office at OceanGig2


Morning View 


Noon 


Sunset 


Side View of the Santa Monica Pier 

We Can Live Beside The Ocean

Ah yes, I have to admit it feels like that warm rush you get when you drink good scotch on a winter's eve. It's the mental equivalent of that melting, fluttering-of-the-eyes inducing sweetness from the first taste of dark forest chocolate (or a fucking good smack hit). Yes, Marty Stark is making money and it feels so good.

I have this weird knack for getting gigs whenever I need the cashish (though admittedly, once I get the gig is a different matter). The rest of my life may be one bad drama, what with stalkers, bad affairs, fluffchicks and the general LA crapola, but my gig finding luck is one that seems to be scary good. Moved up to Silicon Valley without a gig from law school, ended up with a six figure gig at Biglaw a month later. First Biglaw screwed me, moved to a better paying and more prestigious Biglaw. Quit Biglaw, took a year off, moved back down to LA, found a new gig in less than a month. That piece of shit gig got too crazy, started life as a contract attorney. When my first contract gig dissolved, got hired at double the rate by one of the attorneys that left. When a certain, ahem, someone and I got involved, managed to find yet another contract gig in less then a month. And now, when I finished the first draft of the novel and needed to shore up reserves, got this gig in two weeks.

Oh yeah, and I got the rate I wanted, plus I have my own office with an ocean view. And the building is the last office building before the Pacific Ocean. Now if I can only (1) figure out how to revise the novel and (2) get this luck to friggin' spill over into the rest of my life.