Stuck home with the whole family, they are mad at me because I’m lazy and useless and whiny. Siblings playing a videogame, I wanna join but they won’t let me. Then we have lunch, I find a giant piece of squid in my veggie soup, I take it from the plate and stare at it, puzzled. My dad dips his fork in my plate, I’m so disgusted I storm away.
I peek into the living room after a while, my cousin is sitting on the couch, I’m surprised she showed up without calling first. She’s also mad at me, she tells my sister to look for embarrassing high school pictures of me they can share online.
I’m in my house, but I’m also participating in The Great British Bake Off. It’s the finale, and the two other contestants are Liam O’Brien and Taliesin Jaffe; our assignment for the final round is “butter” and we rush into the kitchen –that is, my own house’s kitchen.
Taliesin definitely knows what he’s doing. I cut open a bread roll and start buttering it, making quite a mess; next to me Liam has dipped in oil a bruschetta and is now frying it on a pan, damnit, he’s gonna beat me at my own bread game! I fill my bun with soft goat cheese, because it’s white like butter, I guess. It’s still too plain and I’m starting to panic. What can I add, what can I add!? I remember I have some trail mix in the pantry and toss it in my bun, mixing it with the soft cheese. I add some sugar on top and slam it in the electric oven next to Liam’s bruschetta.
It’s now time for the judges to try out dishes. The three of us are sitting on bar stools in my living room, a screen behind us is showing our journey through the show. When it’s my turn the screen shows a young Asian woman dressed in a Brazilian outfit, dancing with a group of men in shiny jumpsuits. Wait, was I competing in Dancing with the Stars??
I know my dish is no good and Taliesin is gonna win, and indeed Paul Hollywood is very brutal when he tries it. The other judge, an unnamed lady, is kinder. I’m so disappointed I start stress-eating my buns and Liam’s dish, which tastes like cream and honey cookies. Mine is slightly better, I think, but not enough. As I shovel both the cookies and the buns down my throat, my mom, who in this dream is Angela Bassett, looks at me from the couch and shakes her head in disappointment. I know, I know, I’m gonna get so fat.
DECADE DREAM JOURNAL 