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Location: Northern California

Read all about the adventures of the Tsao Family during the summer of 2012

Thursday, September 06, 2007

 

I dream of Amy Winehouse

Last night I had a dream that I met Amy Winehouse.

I was in London with Thomas. We were at a train station and needed to get on a bus to go to a hotel. I was in London on a business trip, and my co-worker (a guy I used to work with when I worked in the insurance industry) had jumped on a previous bus. I don't know why Thomas was with me and not Emily or Mike.

Thomas and I were in the train station when I looked over and saw Amy Winehouse. She was with one other guy--he looked like a manager-type--and nobody was bothering her. She was pretty with her big hair and eyeliner.

There was some panic on my part about my luggage and where it was... I think I was also missing my purse. I didn't have my camera and that bothered me because I wanted to take a picture of Amy. I went outside to search for my bag. I was also nervous about getting on the right bus and not knowing exactly where I was or where I was going.

There was a feeling that what I should be doing was outside the train station: taking care of Thomas, finding my luggage, getting on a bus. But what I wanted to be doing was inside the train station: stalking Amy Winehouse and taking her picture.

I found my bag outside by the curb and got out my camera. When I went back inside the train station, it was very dark and Amy's hair was flat and wet. I was disappointed because it's her big hair that really fascinates me. I started taking her picture but she looked over at me and I felt bad, like I was violating her privacy. I asked her if I could take her picture, and she said, "yes."

That's when she started posing for me and I was thrilled to get the opportunity to take her picture, but my camera wouldn't work! It was so dark inside the train station that I couldn't get the camera to take a picture, no matter how hard I pressed the button. I even had Amy move to the door, to be closer to the filtered light that was coming in, but nothing helped. At one point she asked that I take a close-up of her face and not photograph her below the chest. Maybe she was worried about her weight. She didn't look as deathly thin as she normally does and she looked healthy. Perhaps she was off drugs.

I never could get the camera to take her picture and then her manager came over and said they had to leave to catch their train. She gave me her phone number but my pen was running out of ink and I could barely get the number scratched onto a piece of cardboard.

The end.

Trippy.