David Lynch

I'm house-sitting for famed director David Lynch. I think I live down the street from him or something, and I've mowed his lawn or something in the past. We're sort of friends; I'm not being a complete fawning fanboy, but I'm still treating him as a respected adult. About the level of an uncle, I guess. Anyway, he's leaving for a while and needs someone to keep an eye on his house (apparently he has trouble with fans now and then) and to feed his cat, so he asked me to do it. Having sized up the place and finding it comfortable, I agree. It should be nice to hang out there for a week or two. My house is just down the road, anyway.

David Lynch has a nice house. It's in the woods, even though it's in the city. The ground is springy as though made completely of decaying trees, and the smell of moist earth pervades. I even see some banana slugs as I bicycle into his driveway. The house is a two story A-frame, with lots of windows. It seems warm and cozy.

I enter the house and am immediately set upon by his cat. The cat is a female, named Skitchy. She's about 150% the size of a regular cat, but her skin is stretched tight as though her skeleton suddenly expanded within her. She is a deep brunette (human brunette color), and has silky but short hair. She also has spots of black and white; however, these spots are perfectly circular, ranging from the size of a pencil eraser to the size of a quarter.

Skitchy is a lovely little cat. She purrs and snakes herself around me. I am reminded of how (in the waking world) I miss my own cats. The feeling of reunion is present in the dream. I've never had a dream with such vivid tactile sensation. I sit there and pet and hug the cat for quite a while.

Eventually, though, Skitchy decides to wander off, and I explore the house. David Lynch has a big TV/entertainment center, and many videotapes. He owns a copy of everything he's responsible for, but they're up high and dusty; I don't think he watches his own movies much. I plan to watch "The Simpsons" in there later, but right now, I start to feel hungry. Skitchy shows up feeling hungry too, meowing piteously.

We head to the kitchen, and I open the cupboards.

NOTHING but macaroni and cheese.

And I don't just mean wall-to-wall Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. Sure, he has one shelf full of that, but he also has several boxes of Macaron con Queso, 13 cents at local groceries. There are boxes of "shaped" macaroni and cheese, gourmet brands, macaroni and cheese in a can, macaroni and cheese frozen dinners. Odd that those wouldn't be in the freezer.

Luckily, I like macaroni and cheese. I shrug and pick one of the more interesting boxes at random, and start rummaging around for pots. Right about now, the cat has developed thumbs and a more humanoid form -- she's analogous to a three-year-old, but still not talking. So she helps me find the ingredients.