i dreamed that i was in owen wilson's apartment with him and his girlfriend (who looked like, but wasn't, kirsten dunst). it was the holidays, the place was lit up with xmas lights, and they were drunk and being very silly. at one point owen leaned over to pat my leg and spilled his whiskey all over my dress. i was annoyed but tried to laugh it off. he sloppily tried to clean it up with a kleenex until i pushed him away. then he turned on an overhead projector and my poetry appeared in giant-form on his wall opposite it. the kirsten dunst lookalike started to read it out loud. i was very embarrassed. they didn't laugh or anything but it was excrutiating. she read many many poems out loud with no breaks in between. all i could smell was whiskey and my own shame because i did feel like i was being mocked. finally after a long time they shut the projector off and owen turned to me and said, "42 poems and only 14 mistakes. not bad." i was flushed and looking out the window at snow falling down. owen was still drunk and stupid, and he got in my face and said, "so you're a writer, eh? you're a pretty good writer, there, girly," and then he stood in the middle of the room while his girlfriend laughed and he stretched his arms out, slopping his drink everywhere, and in this annoying sing-songy voice he shouted, "YOU OWE! YOU OWE! YOU OWE US ALL ONE NANOWRIMO!"