Wednesday, December 2, 2009


Noted on the morning of 10 October 2008.

Sketchy fragments of dream. Am at Grand Central Station. Buy ticket to go to Stamford on 6 pm train. Lights flash, which I take to be the signal to board – but it turns out to mean that the train is pulling out of the station. No matter, I’ll wait for another one and do some shopping in the meantime. I shop, forget about the train entirely – and miss it. Talk to station agent about whether I can use the ticket for a later train. (Also there is a woman who fills out an IOU to get a ticket and sticks it on a [where you impale papers? Name of object?]. I’m not sure I ever do get on the train to Stamford.

Also, am in a beachfront house. I have missed the presidential debate, I think because of this train fiasco thing. There’s a man on the beach with a caravan (a bus), lots of goods. He’s here to give me presents, consolation prizes. I’m thinking it’s J., but I think actually it’s the 12534 guy. Quite an imaginative set of presents – I only remember a few – pencils, a book of Whistler paintings – I wish I remembered more, they were all a delight, tailor-made to delight me. What I wish from J., I suppose, but don’t get...

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