had one of those dreams, funny dreams, that don't feel important or symbolic but that are entertaining and just a smidge stressful. it started out that i was a part of some kind of ambassador team to north america, for a trip that the dali lama was making here. i had to fly to new york city to attend to him. we stayed in a very swanky hotel. the whole time i was there i was anxious to get away from the ambassador job because i wanted to explore the city and we were only going to be there two days and one night. i also had steve burns' phone number and wanted to hook up with him to grab a drink or something. but my duties kept me busy the entire time. the dali lama was nothing like i expected. he was a magician and would put people into a trance and force them to do his bidding. i tried to lay low, i was afraid of him. he seemed like a petulant, vengeful boy.

on the last day, the whole entourage went to the airport. i was supposed to get on the plane back home with them, but in an impulsive fit, while standing in line to check our baggage, i just started backing away from everyone. people were like, "er, lynn, where are you going?" and i said, "um, i'm not going home yet. i'll call you in a day or two." and they all stood there looking dumbfounded at me as i walked slowly away. we all knew i did not have the money to fly home at a later date, on my own. in fact, i had no money and only the clothes on my back.

i found myself standing on the shore of a big river, with a group of strange women. they had all finished a jog. it was nighttime. they were stretching and cooling down. i knew one of them from an internet bulletin board. i asked her if she knew how to get to brooklyn because i had to see my friend steve. she said yes and told me to follow her. we all started jogging. it was a strange feeling. i had a different body, i guess. i was leaping and running, feeling super free and light and running didn't wind me at all. i was convinced it was the shoes i was wearing. when we got to brooklyn all the jogging women left me standing alone in the street. a car pulled up beside me and inside were steve burns and paul ford. "jump in, lynn!" they cried, laughing and scootching over to make room for me. i climbed in the car and it carried us to steve's apartment. paul ford had some sort of medical emergency and had to go into steve's bedroom to use the phone to call the ER and ask for advice. he asked me if i had any personal lubricant he could use. i pointed at the huge tub of intime sitting on steve's dresser. he thanked me and shooed me out of the room.

i went into steve's living room where he was pouring us drinks and had the t.v. on. he was chatting incessantly about his upcoming tour. i asked him when he had to leave and he said, "oh man, just five days. or...maybe ten days? no! twenty days!" and handed me my drink. we watched t.v. and chatted for a while. he asked me why i was still in new york even though all my friends had left. i didn't want to tell him that i'd stayed behind, with no money or anywhere to stay or any clothes simply because i wanted to hang out with him. i just said, "oh, i have friends i want to visit before i go home again," and he nodded amicably. inside i was thinking, i have two hours or less to convince him to let me stay in his apartment, or else i'm on the streets in a huge, strange city. his phone rang and it was my mom. he put me on and my mom said, "lynn! what are you doing! your husband and kids need you! do you have one thousand dollars to pay your way home? do you? i am NOT paying for this! i am NOT bailing you out of this one!" and i was all quiet and said, "you don't have to, mom. i'm not asking you to." and she was silent for a long time and i could tell she was waiting for me to offer and explanation and when i didn't, (even though i considered lying and saying i had been too sick to get on the plane) she simply hung up on me.

so there i was, hanging out in steve burns' apartment and getting drunk and trying to think of a way to bring up the fact that i now wanted to be his charge, his ward, his friend that he was going to put up with for a few days and perhaps even pay for to go home again. but i couldn't find a way to bring it up. i was embarrassed and shy and i wanted him to think everything was cool and that i had all my ducks in a row. he showed me his set list and packed a suitcase in front of me. then, after a while, he said, "okay, well, i'm beat so i should head to bed. do you need me to call you a cab?"

i stood up, taking a breath, ready to spill my guts, and then deflated. "no," i said, "i can walk from here."

"okay then! it was great meeting you and hanging out. maybe i'll make it to vancouver some day!"

"yeah," i said, fake-cheerful, feeling a sick dread in my stomach, thinking about the long night i had ahead of me, "that'd be cool."

and then i was on the street.

i huddled in an alley and dumpster-dived for food. some homeless people stood a distance away from me, just staring at me while i scarfed down half-chewed cobs of corn and some kind of nearly-moldy curried chickpea dish. they were hungry, but i knew i was in this for the long haul, and i didn't want to share.