Monday, September 7, 2009

Who wants to interpret my dream?

Sunday, September 6, 2009
So I was rather disappointed this morning when I woke up because I was all ready to go to Party City when I realized I was in Ireland. I’ll try to explain why as best as I can remember.

In my dream there was a wedding I was supposed to go to. I was back up to be in the wedding if a girl wasn’t going to make it, and of course, the girl wasn’t going to make it. It was then my duty to go find something (not sure what) that could be found at a store like Party City, but my first choice was a boutique-like place that closed at 5pm.

It just so happened that I was in a town like Chapel Hill, but not quite the exact same. Some sort of riot or natural disaster (maybe both) had just ravaged the place and much of it was falling down and people were everywhere. Somehow I got picked up by the police, who happened to be my father and he was driving his own car. He took me to the station. It was the Podunk Andy Griffith sort of place where there might be law, but not so much order. I was taken inside and dropped off. The sheriff came over and asked what I had done and when my court date was. I responded that I knew the answer the neither question. I was then put on a shelf…yes a shelf. It was large enough for me to fit on and I had to climb on top of a counter and sit in the second from the bottom shelf. I asked if I could go get the book I left in the car, and was told I could. When asked where my “cuffs” were I said I had never been given any and I promised I wouldn’t run away. Another officer followed me out to my dad’s car, but it was gone. We found it on the other side of the building where I got out my book bag (the one I’m currently traveling with). I took it back inside with me and climbed back on to my shelf. I pulled out the book, euros and brown sugar maple oatmeal packets and placed them neatly in the corner.

Realizing that it was getting late, I asked the sheriff how much longer I had to be there. I was supposed to be in a wedding that started at 7 and had a few things to do before. It was now 5pm and he said seeing as they didn’t know what I was charged with I could go. Off I went. The next image I have is of a house (much like a fraternity). There was a room where a semi-formal party had been going on, but was now dispersing. There was another room to the right of that one with a bar, and the two converged at the top into an atrium where columns and vines were scattered around. By going through the atrium, you could get to the back entrance of a church where the wedding ceremony was now taking place. I had missed it. So, I was waiting in the atrium on a bench when a waitress came out of the “party room” and sat beside me. She looked tired and ready to go home. We talked for a little bit and I remember thinking I could get a job as a waitress at a fraternity like her. That thought was quickly pushed aside when accompanied by the knowledge of harassment that would come with the job. The wedding had ended, so I went to go join the wedding party at the reception.

At this point I woke up, and it seriously took me a minute to get my bearings and realize I was not in The States somewhere with familiar places to go. I was in Ireland needing to look for a job.

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