Y LOS SUENOS SUENOS SON

Last night I had a dream in which my friend Devdutt and I arrived early at the airport for a Bangalore-Mumbai-Frankfurt flight. In Frankfurt I was to meet my aunt and uncle (in reality she lives in Florida and he's expired). We were too early to get a boarding pass or check luggage so we sat around and waited. And then decided to get a Coffee Day or something on the other side of the airport. And left our luggage behind. After cafffeinating we returned to find that our luggage was gone, gone, gone. On the one hand I was relieved; why was I toting around a two giant black suitcases filled with dhotis and colorful plastic bags and a seven-year-old laptop anyway? And I could always find another favorite pair of jeans. But I had only Rs 500 to my name and all my contact info was in the lost bags, so many dream-hours were wasted at Devdutt's girlfriend's house in Berlin (?), where they glared while I tried repeatedly to call my sister-in-law (to cancel my credit cards and get my aunt's contact info) but only ended up getting my nephew's band's voicemail -- which he never, ever checks (and which in reality does not exist). I kept wanting her to offer to loan me some clothes but she would not. Oh, and they had a perfect relationship (Dev is an ex) which made things even worse.

Somehow this has something to do with the election.

At least Jon Stewart starts an hour early tonight.