CD: Smashing Pumpkins, "Machina II: The Friends and Enemies of Modern Music"

I've slept much better since I've moved. This has led to some really intriguing dreams. Last night, I was at a party with Puff Daddy. Not P. Diddy, I noticed, but good ol' Puff Daddy. Anyway, so we were just hanging out with a bunch of people. And Puffy was showing me around the place. I also noticed that whatever he did, soon everyone at the party would do. So if he was just socializing/drinking champagne, I would look around and everyone would be doing the same thing. Then he decided to lay down in the middle of the floor, where a large number of throw pillows just happened to located. Everyone else did the same. It was all very classy. He was eventually making out with someone else (everyone partnered up and did likewise) so I devoted my attention to the lady next to me, who just happened to be the dark-haired woman from Being John Malkovich. Remember? Not Cameron Diaz, but the other one. The first thing I said to her was "Have you ever noticed that when Puff Daddy drinks champagne, everyone drinks champagne?" And she replied, "And when Puff Daddy lies down, everyone lies down?" We didn't make out like the others, but we made a connection. We ended up talking very close for the rest of the night. As the party broke up in the morning, we were on our separate ways. I almost forgot to ask her for her number, but she said she'd see me at the Today Show the next morning so we'd just meet up then. Walking back to my New York City apartment that morning, I thought two things: one, I should have gotten her number anyway, and two, I was SURE she had once slept over in my dorm freshman year. No, wait, she was just there really late one night after a group outing. She must've not remembered it herself.

The night before I had this dream, I dreamt that I was walking past a group of armed soldiers, as a civilian, probably in an occupied zone. In either case I had no animosity towards them. One soldier, by mistake, shot me. The rest of the dream, I was trying verbally agitate her about the shooting; trying to make her feel sorry her gun was pointed at me--and not upwards like it was supposed to--when it went off by accident. The wound never actually hurt, but she never apologized, either.

Now what's all that supposed to mean?