""You will always feel that way about him. It
will never go away. For you, it will
burn like never-ending fire, and for him it'll
burn him like quicksilver would. It will alway
be fossil fuel. But when you get strong enough,
you will walk way to avoid a disaster. That
doesn't mean you'll stop smoldering, it just
means that when you're not in the vicinity of
the blaze, you won't go up in flames. Distance,
darlin'. Time and distance. But don't drop a
match near it -- ever. No matter how much time
has passed. Ask me how I know."" - Marlene to Damali, The Hunted by L.A. Banks
Sarah's Dream Diary
WTF?!? Pirates, Murder, my Mom... Oh My!
Wednesday, July 11, 2007 17:29:18
This is by far one of my most frakked up dreams ever. When the dream began I was trying to find ways to make money. The world had recently discovered that if you take a thistle and tie a rubber band around it and let it dry you get a very pretty looking bead. So I was picking thistles and tying bands around them to get money. I was at my parent's house in Ann Arbor doing this, too.
Suddenly I was whisked away into a van. It was group of people around my age (maybe 20 or so of us) with three chaperones: Betty White, someone from work, and my Mom. And one of the passengers was Olympic Skater Apollo Ono. We decided to, get this, DRIVE to Europe.
Somehow we ended up in Amsterdam. I remember that my hotel reservations were somewhere funny and my Mom was worried that I was staying in a crappy place and was insisting that I stay at someplace more well known like a Marriot. I sort of scoffed at her on this one. Eventually we piled back into the van and drove to Rome.
In Rome it became apparent that we were sort of on a quest, of sorts. There I discovered that our "mission" was to kill someone (I never found out who, though I was told his name and I have no idea who it was) and we would get access to a very large treasure. Driving through Rome, we ended up going through this large field with a ton of random abandoned sculptures. To my surprise, not only were there many I thought looked like ones I know are stored in the Vatican Museum, but I began picking out the same faces on the statues. One face in particular I remember, though it's not familiar to me. I should also probably mention here that I *think* my bunch of thistles had turned into my cat Cicero because I was definately carrying him at this time.
We arrived at our destination - a cemetary and moseleum (sp?) that resembled the Oracle at Delphi. Ramps climbing up to the site and all. That is if I remember my ancient Greek archeological sites correctly... yes, I may have them all confused. Anyway, we all piled out of the car and began walking up these ramps to the center building (and everyone except for me was in relatively nice attire and high heeled shoes, that sort of thing). I was having HORRIBLE guilt over our job being to kill an innocent person. When I reached the center I saw a table with a white cloth and a candle with two people eating at it: My mom and the guy from work. They were eating chocolates and steaks. Apparently, they had already completed the nasty task of killing The Guy.
(This is the point where I got really angry and began to tell them off because what they had done was so terribly wrong.)
Some guy then came up to me and offered me a steak as well, which I refused saying that I didn't want to profit from The Guy's death (the steak may also have been The Guy so that was kind of disgusting). Everyone was thoroughly confused. No one understood this. So I walked all the way back down to the van, still carrying a squirmy 'Ro, by the way.
After a while of sitting in the van everyone else started coming back. Betty White came over and was all "Dear, what you're doing is stupid and you're going to get us all caught." She was angry that I had been yelling at my mom and the guy from work up on the hill. She gave me a plate that had everything I had done wrong, from her point of view, written in chocolate on it. Then some guy came over and started interrogating me as to why I didn't eat my steak. Like eating the steak was supposed to show that I didn't have any guilt over The Guy's death, or something. Apparently, the decided I should stay with the group. The kicked one other person out (who also wasn't attired as dressy as everyone else) but beyond that I know nothing of this person.
Suddenly the van changed to be this giant room-sized truck. In the center was a large rectangle filled with water. In the water there were objects that were personal to all of us inside the van/truck. Our task was to dive down and get the ones belonging to us then read a clue on it that would help us decode a clue on the wall of the truck. I didn't want to participate because I still felt wrong about killing The Guy even though the group had allowed me to stay. Yes, I felt pressure to dive in and get the item belonging to me just so I could justify them keeping me with them. Did I mention inside the pool of water there was also a shark?
The shark kept swimming the length of the pool. One by one people started diving into the pool to get their item, making sure to keep an eye on the shark for their fellow treasure hunters. After they got their clues they left the truck leaving me alone with 'Ro and this little girl with dark brown hair and a light blue dress carrying a teddy bear. Yeah... she dove in and retrieved her item as well as my own.
My item was a stuffed kitty that looked like Cicero. We have two in the house. Speaking of Cicero, he had scampered off somewhere. I used that as an excuse to get out of this exercise. I went off to find him because I was worried he'd get out of the truck and get left behind. Found him I did, thus I was left with nothing to do but read my clue.
My clue was a string of letters and numbers. Not sure what it meant. Don't care. I walked out of the truck and saw that we were in another part of the cemetary. The people I was with had divided into two groups. My mom, the guy from work, and Betty White were not among them - I guess they were like the crime lords and we were the underlings. I had no idea as to which group my clue would have lead me. I turned around and walked back into the truck, still disgusted with myself for even considdering looking for the treasure that was won by killing The Guy.
Shortly after returning to the inside of the truck my husband started making noise and I awoke. Cicero was whining outside the door too. And I still felt horrible for The Guy's death.
