Cuban Dissidents

On October twenty-ninth I wrote that I left and went to PHill and got the bike at Embarcadero and rode to Civic Center wehre they had the game on a jumbo-tron.  I got money and navigated through the turnstile in front of the Phish show at the Bill Graham.  I climbed Page and some guys in a car yelled at me.  I went to Chihuahua and had a taco.  Then I went to Page bar and discovered the Giants had pretty much already lost in the second inning.  I watched as Pettit and Machi made the loss worse and after a couple of beers I went home.  A high school classmate and my friend had texted me by the time I had gotten there.  I watched the rest of the game with dad and then posted and went to bed.

I dreamt that night that I was investigating a motel room crime scene—the cleanup crew—where Cuban dissidents had been holed up.  They had left a bunch of stuff and we were carting it off before they could return.  I remembered some kind of metal casing that smelled of cigarette ashes and there was a vacuum cleaner that we decided to leave.  However, as we were leaving there was noise down the hall and we had to leave.  I ran down the hall and narrowly missed being shot at.  I ended up in a room where I disturbed a lady in the bathroom coming out of the shower so I ran through a hail of gun fire to another room but I was clearly trapped.

I woke up at 445 and there was nothing on Twitter but I found stuff.  I was up at 630 and rode the bike because I was planning on going to the Women+Bikes event.  There were no incidents on the whole ride.  I caught a Concord train with a paper cup. 

This is an occasional series chronicling my life. This Notebook Analysis series is meant to be contemporaneous piece developed as an agglomeration of my notebook pages. In each of these posts I used my notes to develop my recent thoughts.