New Restaurants Galore

Background: Mountain View has a plethora of restaurants. New ones come and go, with thankfully the bad ones often disappearing the most quickly. Two recently opened across each other on a key corner downtown. One is uWink, which I think is kitschy and a fun concept, just still needing some iteration on the execution (my hypercritical and/or anti-tech tech friends, including colleagues I referred to it, give it less praise.) Another is Bodrum Cafe, which I finally got a chance to try. It has a lovely outdoor area, and offers reasonably priced, very high quality mediterranean cuisine. But it seems pretty empty still, and I worry about its chances. All this is a long preface to…

In my dream, I’m introducing Dan’s parents and sister to a new restaurant. They’re in town for their annual 2-week visit to California, which is usually a very fun experience, full of hiking, games, and food. We step onto a cablecar, which they love, and which then begins serving Greek food while going up and down the hills of San Francisco. They have a blast, while I desperately fight to keep my food on my lap despite the hills, and hope that the restaurant can realize they shouldnt drive so fast when serving to their patrons. Ha.

Obama dreams bring semi-silly insight into hopes and fears

In my dream, I’m in the crowd watching a speech by Obama (very cool). But I’m paranoid about all the crazy people who hate someone who speaks only of peace and togethernesss… go figure.

So as I listen, I’m scanning everywhere to make sure no one tries to kill him. Lo and behold, I spot someone aiming from a window. I scream, and the secret service agents quickly block any shot. But the fun part of my dream is that Obama quickly grabs a rifle, climbs up on the Merrill Lynch bull behind him [from my recent trip to NY], and takes a shot at the would-be-assassin. [I guess my hope for Obama and fear of the hatred others have displayed have turned Obama into John Wayne in my dreams. Methinks I need to temper my expectations of his skills.]

Business Trips, Politics, and Family

Background: I just returned from a business trip to New Jersey and Manhattan. Simultaneously, I’m continuing my obsession with the political race. Finally, I just received an email from my father, who with my mother has only visited me once in the eight years I’ve been in California, to mention that they have free tickets to San Francisco, and are starting to think about a visit.

The dream:

I’m on a business trip to Alaska. It’s a pretty routine trip in the dream [dream confusion: regular trips to Microsoft's home in Redmond, with an Alaskan location], and on the plane ride I discover two colleagues also making the regular jaunt, as well as my father going on a leisure trip.

The plane ride is in a small plan (sitting about 40 of us), with a pilot who is totally disinterested in customer service. He waits until everyone is standing, putting their luggage in the overhead bins, and immediately takes off without warning, going almost straight up on a steep incline. We all grab onto things, and scramble to our seats. [hmm, residual stress about flying making its appearance?]

We arrive, and I grab my carryon, which is all I brought for my three-night trip. As we get off, I see tons of people picking up their luggage from the carousel. Their luggage all consists of gigantic crates of fruit, especially grapes. I regret not bringing the same, and wonder what sort of fresh fruit and vegetables I’ll be able to eat in the fish-dominated Alaskan cuisine. [pssst. I'm vegetarian]

I invite my colleagues and my father to join me at my 5-star hotel, since they’re only visiting for a shorter time and thus have worse lodging. I’m disappointed by the hotel itself, since Anchorage seems like a 1950’s style city, full of dated and ugly buildings. [is it really? no idea.]

As the trip begins, I try to fit one day of sight seeing in, since I’ve heard Alaska is beautiful. I ask my father to check out parks for me, and I plan a drive through Wasilla to see what sort of tiny suburban sprawl town it really is. [thus bringing in politics into the dream, uniting many events].

Politics gets physical

Background: I’m currently on a business trip with a colleague. He’s a very nice guy, but extremely into political arguments. These are often fun, though last night I was replaying a conversation in which he said that it’s no choice to vote between two evils — you should choose someone else (in his mind, Ron Paul). I object to this simplification, and had trouble falling asleep thinking of responses.

In my dream, we’re fighting about Obama. He makes yet another comment about how he’s just as evil as McCain, and I totally lose it. I swing a punch (I’m a girl, never fought in my life, etc.). We begin pushing/shoving/hitting over this. It’s not an angry fight, but more an energetic one about something we both feel strongly about.

Hmmmm. My frustration must be venting in my dreams.