Looking for Brownie and Mr Soccer Player

I want to come up with a decent blog entry these days, but all I have are thoughts on random things sitting in the drafts section of the dashboard. I told myself this one shouldn't add up to that pile of unpublished posts so I made sure I hit the Publish button after ending the last sentence.

I initially wanted to write about why last Monday wasn't a panic-stricken one because Bossy Boss was not around. Then I thought of finishing my review of Options, that laugh-out-loud book by Daniel Lyons about the life of Fake Steve Jobs. After these two, I wanted to blog about why I hate the word corporate but I do not want to talk about the semi-crappy state of copywriting I am doing lately, so I scrapped that.

I hate to write about dream sequences, but maybe Steve Almond* was right: we should be writing about things we could not get rid of by any means. I want to get this out of my mind, so here it goes.

I woke up this morning puzzled at seeing that guy in my dream. Eww, this is just soooooo cheesy! I dreamed that I was in this classroom with football players. I do not know what I was doing there because I do not know anyone in the room and I could not recognise the place. Then there's this guy standing beside me: a bespectacled football player, taller than me by two inches. Then someone asked that guy if I'm his girlfriend, he said yes and my alarm clock signaled 7.40am. Ewww, this merits a 5 in Creative Writing class! Fail!

I would like to believe that this dream with football players was partly induced by the World Cup hype here in Singapura. I don't know who that guy was/is or if there exists such a guy who looks like him. Since in my dream, I was seated beside that guy, I could only remember his face's side profile. And no, he does not look like Murakami Guy.

Enough of my dreams. Let's just jump to the latter part of the day.

I walked from the MRT station, passed by the hawker centre and the area at Spottiswoode Park where the big trees are. Yes, those gigantic trees (with squirrels!)surrounding my so-called 'picnic areas' that could be a perfect setting for a horror movie when night falls on a rainy day. I saw an old couple at the foot of one of those gigantic trees calling for Brownie. Must be their dog. Auntie** was holding two Fairprice grocery bags while Uncle** pointed the flashlight at the direction of the picnic areas. Brownie? Auntie called three times. After two minutes or so, they left Spottiswoode Park Rd and headed to Everton Park.

Brownie did not show up. Just like that bespectacled football player, in my real world.



*author of This Won't Take But A Minute Honey. Thanks to a friend for buying this book for me :D
**in Singapore, people older than you are called Auntie or Uncle as a sign of respect