I had one of those typical stress dreams: mine, I was at opening night for the Seattle Gilbert and Sullivan society's new show, and of course I didn't know any of the songs or the moves, so I was just chasing people around on stage, trying to look like I was singing, and feeling really embarassed. At the end of it all someone chewed me out for wearing a not-period-appropriate necklace. As the alarm went off, I was folding a silk handkerchief that had a picture of Ladmo in the middle of it ... very strange. I also dreamed about my sister, inanna, and a black and white spotted guinea pig that needed a new home.
The movie last night wasn't so great, not that it was bad but it wasn't worth the hassle of leaving the house and forking over £8. Yakuza Graveyard was an interesting contrast with Pale Flower - same bad-boy, cool gangster-type (though this character seemed drawn more from the books of Mishima somehow), lots of gambling (but was more frenetic rather than cool and stylized), but much more kinetic - I was imagining Serpico or The French Connection - some 70s movie about cops gone bad. I guess I preferred the more cerebral coolness of Pale Flower. I wonder how people enjoyed Pan's Labrynth?
Tonight: RNB, and maybe Finish Making Turkey Pie and Soup.