On Sunday I heard Anne Gorrick, Maryrose Larkin and Mark Cunningham read at Bridge Street Books. I don't get to as many readings as I'd like and this one did not disappoint, thankfully. I even got a chance to share my Other Rebecca wisdom by buying Maryrose a bag of potato chips for her sore throat.

Maryrose mentioned something about my poems that I found a little startling, she said I write in threes (phrases of three). She heard me read at the Cadmium Text Series last year and apparently that struck her -- so I'm going through my poems and I'm starting to see it. That's not all, I frequently dream of 3's -- 29 dreams in the last year, my most dreamed of number (ten coming in second at ten times). And of course there's my famous "if you have an unwanted triangle, use your own algorithm" dream. There were three annoying things in that dream: flies, a bee and Phil Collin's singing on the television. I kind of feel all Battlestar Galactica -- I have all these pieces without the sense of what to do with them. When is my season finale so I can get my explanation? Will I be underwhelmed with my explanation? Probably. There's no impressing me.

In the past, Jill Essbaum suggested my frequent 3 dreams have to do with the Trinity, but I'm quite sure that in my case, it does not. Just like my dream-snakes are not penises, OK Miz Essbaum? Ok. I dreamed of those this morning. Big sci-fi python-type snakes. I had a hose that I was using to spray the path I was walking so I wouldn't slip. A snake coiled up my hose forcing me to abandon it. I kept walking without my hose and then a smaller snake in a bush bit me in the arm. Ouch. I felt it when I woke up. I'm just thankful it didn't bite me in the ass. How embarrassing would it be to have to blog about that!