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of course i haven't been able to stop thinking/babbling about al gore since he received my e-mail, but with a package like that (or this), how could i? i mean, i sure picked the perfect specimen of man to induct me into the world of heterosexuality, no?

i was cleaning out my e-mail when i found the original transcription of the al gore dreams. it was in an e-mail to a friend of mine (my 7th grade science teacher, actually) who is a card-carrying Republican. *shudder*

so, for your reading pleasure, i present the e-mail to you here, as a special Valentine's Day treat.

> > OK. I've GOTTA ask, were you successful? Just curious. I might have to re-visit my opinion of him (not likely!!)

>well. I manage to wake up before anything exciting happens...the first dream, I saw Bill Clinton off in the distance and waved to him, so he came on down to the school or whatever it was for a visit (air force 1 was the size of a lear jet) and then sped off in a limo, changing his mind. Al Gore, however, stayed behind and it was just me and him in an outhouse or something (size of an outhouse) and he had a shot of some kind of alcohol (which I wanted, to calm my nerves) and he poured it down the sink. Later on, I am talking to someone else, and Al shows up all nervous and starts lamenting about how he's going to get in so much trouble because he was in a small enclosed space, alone, with an 18 year old girl, and alcohol was present...I say "Al, nothing happened!" and try to calm him down...he says that he has to be careful because they're watching him. I start fawning over him like "But you're just the vice president - the underdog, nobody cares much about what you do...that's what I like about you..." and he spills something on his shirt and starts dabbing at it with a napkin, and I (smoothly) say "Oh let me help you with that" and dab at it myself.

>The SECOND dream. I'm at school/uni, on the steps reading the campus newspaper, and Al is scheduled to make a stop and talk. He's late. He shows up, suit wrinkled, with bedhead, which (like a typical heterosexual woman) I find cute and charming (god, what's wrong with me???) I think to myself "I'd like a piece of that - too bad he's unavailable" and lo and behold, his hands are free from any signs of bondage i.e. wedding rings from "Tipper" (stupid name). He even says in his speech "Ever since my wife and I separated in December..." - how convenient. A clipboard is being passed around, for mailing addresses perhaps? and I have a hard time writing my name properly because I'm so nervous. Al drops his pencil which I give back to him, consciously doing that ol' "finger touch" thing (which to my surprise, works.)

I'm on the basketball team and am the best player, despite the fact that I never move. No, really. I sit on the sidelines and make baskets. I'm really quite incredible. Al is half watching this, half reading something and taking notes, like he's writing a paper or something. He gets up and leaves and I go over and read the back of the book, so when he comes back I can seem all interested and maybe bullshit that I've read it. [ok, I'm just realizing how embarrassing this is!! You're going to send this off to the Republican Party Newsletter, aren't you??]

Anyway, Al has to do something else, and I'm in my apartment (now this part is really quite scary) and my ceiling is kind of bending because the upstairs neighbours are makin' whoopee and they're very noisy. I'm worried that the ceiling will collapse so I move, and sure enough, the first "layer" of it falls in. I sweep it up, realise I'm naked, then think "Well, me sweeping, naked. That seems a little too forward." and go put some clothes on. I'm looking out my room window to see if Al's coming back, and it's a really bad neighbourhood so I'm worried, and I see him drive off (in a little green car). I think to myself that it's the last I'll see of him, what a waste, etc. I go back into my living room where there is a letter on my couch thanking me, giving me his phone number at the white house, and basically saying that if I ever question my sexuality and need to "discuss it" give him a call.

I wake up at first with a smile (that Al Gore wants me) and then I scream, realizing that I now have a new subject to add to my "recurring dream theme" list:
>1. toilets. toilets in open spaces, if it's a bathroom, it's just rows of toilets, if there are cubicles, they have no doors, if they have doors, the doors are too short.
>2. plane crashes. i'm in a plane, it crashes. i'm fine.
>3. penis dreams (I wrote a song about it)
>4. seducing the vice president of the united states.