I was in front of a building when Barack came out by himself. I went over to introduce myself and shake his hand. He gave me a dead fish handshake and wouldn't look me in the eye when I spoke to him. His secret service people came out right after that and he left. I decided that I didn't like or trust him.
28 February 2008
I was running up a snowy road and Barack Obama was running beside me. A lot of people were running downhill, in the opposite direction, and they had the proper winter running attire on. Not me – I was in my street clothes, and a giant truck kept forcing me into the left side where there were giant puddles and I got my feet wet.
Barack and I came to a street in New York -- 121st and Broadway, next to my old apartment – and went into a large, dark assembly room that had the feeling of a church. I talked to Obama and we realized we both had a Columbia connection. He had been very nice to me on the run, when I felt I had him to myself, but then he became more interested in what was going on in the room and he ignored me. I felt hurt because of this and started to write him off, feeling that he wasn't who he said he was.
He walked away from me, over to some women. I realized that everyone in the room wanted a piece of him. I saw my mother in the rows of seats opposite me and I got up and walked over to her and told her the story of what happened between me and Barack.
I looked over to see that he was now fully engaged in some other conversation, and he seemed intent and interested. I thought, He will shut down after a minute and become inward.
My recurring dream is that I am Michelle Obama. In one dream we had a lot of campaigning to do, but I needed to take the kids to see their grandparents. I told Barack that I could not handle all this pressure from campaigning. He told me we didn't have any events scheduled for that day, but I didn't believe him and I yelled at him because we were in the middle of campaign season, primaries were coming up, how could we not have anything on the schedule that day!?
27 February 2008
Barack and another politican who was a democratic nominee – but I don't think exists, or maybe it was John Edwards – were having a gun fight in my basement. I shot them both and had to figure out what to do with the bodies. I went into a different room of the house and it reminded me of one of the houses I lived in when I was a kid. My parents thought I should put the bodies in trash bags with some other random stuff and try to throw the bags away and pass it off as household garbage. I was like, Shouldn't we tell the police what happened, or something? My mom said, No, let’s not do that.
Later I saw Barack on the news and I felt relief that I hadn’t shot him -- that it was just one of his copies.
Barack was being interviewed on one of those Sunday news shows and the host asked him if English should be the official language of the United States. He said yes, absolutely: It is the national language. How horrible would it be to hear somebody speak a language other than English in our country?
I sat there watching and thinking, This campaign is pretty much over...
26 February 2008
Barack Obama hadn't been seen in a few days, and all the commentators were wondering where he was and why he wasn't out campaigning. Then suddenly he shows up at a Clinton rally, and he's campaigning for her all of a sudden. He gives this great speech about how excited he is to be on Hillary's side. I turn to the people I'm with and ask, Did she brainwash him?
25 February 2008
My girlfriend and I are hanging out with Barack, leaning against the brick wall of a public school, casually talking. There is an attractive young black woman there, too. I lean over to tell her that we are going to dinner if she wants to come with us. I'm not Michelle, she replies.
I was running some errands with Barack. Michelle was in the hospital after having a cyst removed, and one of our errands was to pick her up. Barack was driving an SUV and we were having difficulty finding a parking spot near the hospital. We drove down a narrow street with cars parked on both sides, then it dead-ended. It didn’t look like it was possible to turn around. I became very tense. I thought, Oh, no, he’s going to get very angry and run into all these cars when he tries to turn around. Then the media will find out and he’ll ruin his chances of being nominated. But he very cooly did a 7 or 8 point turn, deftly turning the car around, and we headed back up the street. I thought to myself, Well, I’m voting for him.
24 February 2008
I was watching the Democratic National Convention. Al Gore was giving a very powerful speech. He chose that moment to tell everybody that he'd thought about it and, yes, had had decided what the heck, he would run for president after all. Everybody went nuts. I looked at Barack, who was sitting with the other candidates. Edwards was there, too. They all look startled. I turned to my my wife and said, Wow, Obama looks upset.
22 February 2008
Obama was having a rally in a giant arena. I ended up in a seat right near him at the podium because the regular seats were filled. Obama was standing before the cameras and gesturing with his arms. I could not concentrate on what he was saying because I was awed by his presence. During a break, he came up to me as if I worked for him.
I need you to draft a letter for me, he said.
Sure, I said. Anything I can do...
It's to the board of a local nonprofit, he continued. I was glad. That's the kind of thing I do at my real job. He gave me a brief description about what it should say, then went back to the podium.
I got to work at once. I had a pen but I didn't have a piece of paper. All I could find near me was a hamburger bun. I started to write out the letter on the hamburger bun while Obama gave his speech, but with every few strokes the pen would break through the outer surface of the bread into the soft middle. I was getting nowhere and didn't know what to do.
21 February 2008
20 February 2008
19 February 2008
I dreamed I had to get something signed by Barack Obama. Instead of sleek campaign headquarters, it was him at a messy desk in a dusty, cluttered room, like where a professor would be. Obama told me he was busy and to have a seat.
I sit in front of his desk and pick up a magazine. Obama gets on the phone to someone connected to the campaign. He speaks in a low, quiet voice, but then I start to notice something strange: Obama has an incredibly dirty mouth. He's on the phone, cussing up a storm. The phone seems to rile him and as he gets angrier, his voice gets louder and louder, and his language gets more and more profane and deranged. I try hard to concentrate on my magazine, but the more I try to, the more disturbed I become. He never yells at me, but he is positively out-of-control with rage at this point.
Then Michelle Obama enters the room, also furious. She starts yelling at her husband, and the reason why becomes clear very quickly -- she's brandishing two Playboy magazines, which she apparently found in Barack's desk. Apparently, he promised her he would get rid of them and reneged. Michelle is raging away, but at this point, Obama seems to have calmed down. Instead of answering Michelle, he just sits at his desk and takes it, a big dumb grin playing across his face. The more she threatens him, the bigger the grin and the more smug his body language becomes. More people gather, mostly women. At this point, the entire office seems to be yelling at Obama, while he does nothing. Nobody notices me as I tiptoe out of the room, paperwork still unsigned.
Barack Obama was my teacher. Despite myself, I kept falling asleep in his class. This baffled and irritated me. We sat at a long table. Obama said important things and others were deeply moved by his lessons. I desperately wanted to focus, wanted to submit assignments, to impress him, but I was utterly unable to stay awake.
I was Barack's mistress. He picked me up from a party that I was at with Alton Brown. We went driving around in a small town with lots of fields, then we stopped at an ice cream shop. No one knew who Barack was, so he started filling them in, telling them what he was all about. I asked the driver if I should buy a suit so that people would think I was Barack's assistant, rather than his mistress. We then walked into a bar that seemed to be made almost entirely out of gold and the bartender started yelling at us. I asked her if she wanted to fight, then I woke up.
In my dream, Hillary kissed me a few times on the cheek. She had hot red lipstick on. I saw Bill's pecs. He had a hot bod. For a second I thought I was going to sleep with him, but then I ended up in a car with someone I didn't know and I learned about Obama's secret affair with his black slave servant.
I dreamed last night that Obama was assassinated. I was like No! This is a dream! Can't be true! Then I woke up but I was still in the dream. I went to npr.com and there was a picture of him shot. I thought, Wait a minute, am I still in a dream? People were trying to tell me I wasn't.
What brought all this on? I don’t have a great interest in the
In the dream, Barack's daughters were my age, 17. They invited me to their house. We was talking about boys and we was getting loud. Barack came and told me I couldn't talk with his daughters cause I was getting loud. I was like, That's dumb, we're just having girl talk. The Mrs. cooked food for a whole bunch of people. Then it cut to Barack running up a hill with his supporters. It was just like a commercial.
18 February 2008
I had such a great dream last night. Barack Obama came to my church and gave a speech. I don't remember what he said, just that he was very eloquent. Afterwards he and his wife were standing near the doors, shaking hands. I went up to shake his hand and I was so nervous! He was like 8 feet tall in my dream, but when I reached out to take his hand he gave me the sweetest smile.
I was still a student in some sort of school. For a project, we were paired with celebrities. I don’t remember who else was there except for Penelope Cruz. I got Barack Obama.
I was intrigued by our pairing. I wondered what he would ask me, but he just "mailed in" the interview. He was on his cell phone most of the time. He could have shown a little class. In the end I just told him that I watched Lost and Heroes.
Barack dropped by my apartment unexpectedly while I was having a small party with friends and family. He was not Obama the presidential candidate, but more like Barack the cool celebrity. He arrived in a whirlwind, and before I had time to let it sink in, he was gone. He kept saying I'll be right back, as he left in a hurry with his assistant, a fashionably-dressed young man. I watched out the window as they got into a cream-colored limousine, which was parked right in front of my building. The limo had lights on the outside which made it look like it was glowing and all-the-more glamorous.
After Barack left, more people stopped in because word had spread that Barack was at my place. We waited for him to come back as he had promised. Suddenly (as often happens in my dreams) I realized I didn't have any pants on. My doorbell rang, and I scrambled to get some pants on while thinking, Oh my gosh, it could be Barack at the door. I put on my brown corduroys because that's all I could find. They were way too tight and I could barely walk. I went quickly to the door to find two of my cousins, not Barack. The limousine did come back later, but only his assistant got out. I was disappointed.
Barack and I were having a long conversation at the beginning of the dream, and then it transformed into a sort of Matthew Barney universe where he was wearing cowboy hats and his skin seemed to be getting whiter all the time. I kept chasing him around this weird place but he was always one step ahead of me.