Sweaters (Revised and Surreal)

( Shot of Isabel, shot of Miles, shot of Isabel)
Isabel: Do you like this sweater?
Miles: Yeah it's a good sweater......
Isabel: Do you like this sweater?
Miles: Yeah it's a good sweater.
Isabel: Ok.
Miles:... So this dream I was having it was completely insane. I mean you won't believe some of this stuff. Dig this, I was a potted plant. And the world around me seemed so exciting and new, I didn't even have to move around to have fun. It was a blast just sitting there and digging all the crazy plant sensations. When you're a plant, everything is so jivy and electric, it's like a Rapture video. People would come to me and ask me stuff and I'd answer them with something wise or should I say sage. Yeah I was a pretty funny plant. But mostly people just came to pick at my leaves and smell my spicy aroma. Oh man the parties were great too. I was no wall flower. When it got a little bit more frisky, all the girls would rub my terracotta tummy and that got me a little excited, so I'd have to say "slow down, I'm a plant, not an animal". But they were cool about it, and we talked about our plans for the summer.
Isabel: Is this a good sweater?
Miles: Yeah that's a good sweater, at I was talking to these people but instead of of talking normally we'd talk with balloons. Whenever we wanted to say something balloons would just pop out of our mouths with whatever we had to say written on it. The floor would be filled with all this correspondence. This one really clever guy kept on rubbing his head with the balloons till his hair stuck up with the static electricity, and he'd say something like " this conversation is electric" which was pretty funny. We all had a really good laugh. The only problem was that it took so much air to speak, I mean some of us were turning blue. You had to be careful about what you said and making sure you expressed everything you could in one sentence so there were alot of run on sentences and that kind of sucked. One guy who was a really big stickler about that sort of stuff tried his best to speak properly, but he just ended up hyperventilating.  He kept on saying " Oh No, I am feinting. Someone get a doctor! Get a doctor!" But that meant he needed to blow up three balloons so he only got the first one out before passing out....
Isabel: Is this a good sweater?
Miles: Yeah that's a good sweater. There was alot of fun doing other stuff too. Like these gloves kept on drawing on my belly, all these squiggly lines. Just loads of them all over me. I was like a Jackson Pollock painting, it was excellent. I was a little worried at first because they were using permanent markers but that was all just part of the fun in the end. I think at times they were trying to send me messages, like " I really dig that scarf you were wearing earlier" or " you like Of Montreal? I like Of Montreal. Awesome." but for the most part, you could tell they were just having a laugh drawing their silly squiggles all over my tummy. My face was being painted alot too. That had nothing to do with the gloves, I think my face was just painted. The weird thing was I could never keep track of what the face paint actually was. It was that weird sort of thing where things seem to just shift around on you without you noticing it. It was kind of frustrating sometimes, cause just when I'd get a design that I'd like it'd move. 

Isabel: Is this a good sweater?

Miles: Yeah man, that's a good sweater. Things could be scary too. I was doing some weird stuff at times. I was moving around all jerky and wiggly. Everything was all black and white and german expressionist. My body kept on contorting and jumping around and I was worried I was losing my mind. I'd keep on telling myself to stop but on it would go, twisting and writhing like a buggaboo. But after a while I noticed that I was wearing silly shorts and I felt alot better. And all the scary movements were funny and light hearted. I think at one point I had on a paper sailor hat and neckerchief. I really liked that part. Oh hey is that the new Vanity Fair?

Isabel: Yeah.
Miles: Can I take a look at it?
Isabel: Sure.
Miles: Thanks. Vanity Fair. Vaaaaaaaaaanity Fair. Vanity Fair. I was meditating, and I was naked.
Isabel: That's hot.
Miles: That's right. It was really at that point that I realized I was in a dream, which was strange because it was most normal part of the dream. I was just sitting out in my backyard by the herb garden and just looking at things. Looking at me. I'd look at the plants which were dead because of the winter but would grow back later. I'd look at litter that I had left out in the yard which I was all about picking up as soon as it was decent to go back outside again. I'd look up at the tree tops and see all the light from the sky pouring through the leaves, sometimes it would be the sun but often it was just plain clouds muffling the sky. I sort of realized this when I realized that I was naked and in the snow, yet I wasn't cold. I was perfectly fine and happy to be out there thinking and reflecting about what a crazy old dream I was having. I'd say hello to dream things around me. Hello dream rock, hello dream tree, hello dream magnolia, hello dream herb garden. They didn't respond back but in truth I was just talking to myself so I guess they didn't have to. ( Mirror out in the back yard, wave to it). 
Isabel: Is this a good sweater?
Miles: Yeah that's a good sweater. Finally I ( Cindy calls and tells me her dream)
Miles: That's really awesome man.
Cyndi: Thanks Miles
Miles: No, thank you ( hangs up) Cindy's a great kid.
Isabel: ( Talk about something)
Miles: I just remembered the end of my dream. I was walking on a road and I came across this old blues man. He was crusty and hunched over but he had that sort of old timey wisdom that one expects from a blues man. But as I drew closer I recognised the voice. And when I finally got there, I saw that the Blues man... was me.
Isabel: Yeah.
Miles: I'll see you tomorrow?
Isabel: Hey Miles.
Miles: Yeah?
Isabel: That's a good sweater.
Miles: Awesome.
( Might change the ending)