Weeeird

    Last night my dream set new standards for weirdness, or at least for weird thoroughness. An attractive dark-haired woman walked up to me and said that she was starting a band and had advertised for members. She showed me what looked to be a glossy magazine, saying that the person who replied was pictured there. It was a pictorial with a lot of snow. (Lately I've been dreaming about snow a lot. I really doubt that I'm cold at night in this weather. Maybe elevating my head on the slant pillow makes it cold. Dunno.)
    Regardless (note to self: stop saying "regardless" and "anyway"), he had black hair done in a Flock of Seagulls cut. His hair was the same length as hers but she didn't like my mentioning this. I thought that the book/magazine must have been something he had paid for himself, and noted that it would be useful to have somebody that rich in a band. I closed the book/magazine; the cover said "Vogue: Music" (making it a magazine by this portion of the dream). She said there was no such magazine as "Vogue: Music." And that was about it, really.
    I appreciate that it isn't a very interesting dream; I'm not sure even Dr. Freud could have gotten all that much out of it. (Well, only Dr. Freud could.) It's just weird to have a dream that thorough, especially as I'm listening to sports talk radio all night. I could see dreaming in depth about the pennant races or college football. But a vivid dream about a completely fictitious person in a very peculiar situation. Odd.