Tsunami

I'm pretty sure I was reading some Lacan-esque French theory, something about a sea lion/regular lion and a polar bear, and recognizing the Other or some such business. I'm not sure if I was studying this while at the beach, or if the elaborate literary metaphor sort of just came alive for me, but at some point I was definitely being rocked by the waves.

The tide on this U-shaped beach was coming in, though, and I decided I was done with the water. When the waves pulled back, a whitish pebbly beach was revealed at the bottom of the U, and I ran across to get the backpack(s) and corkscrew (?!) that I'd left there on a ledge. Back on the other side, the door to the hotel/apartment/dorm was locked, so a beach employee (?!) kindly let me in. It was an odd sort of industrial-looking stairwell, so as she was in there with me, I asked her whether I'd be able to get out on my floor. She was assuring me that I would, just as she received a message, which I couldn't decipher, on her radio.

"Up!" she said to me. "Up! Run!"

"What happened?" I asked, as I started up the stairs. "What is it?"

"Up, up!" she shouted, pushing me. "Go!"

I was struck by the realization that we were trying to make it to higher ground, because a tsunami was coming. I tried to run faster, taking two steps at a time, but my legs were tired and then we started to run into crowds in the stairwell, also trying to get up to higher ground. They were quite orderly and not pushing or shoving--primarily just polite and a bit bemused.

Suddenly it got darker in the stairwell, and I realized the wave was coming. There was a window in the stairwell, separated by a gap of several feet from where I stood on the stairs. As I looked out, I saw a wall of water rising, in incredible colors--glowing sage-y green, then golden, then red. It reached up to a few inches above the window, and then sank, and I thought, with relief, that we were all going to be fine. But then came what I instantly knew was the Second Wave, higher than the first, and I could feel the foundations of the building shaking. This wave filled the window with incredible sparkling droplets of water, glowing red. I thought to myself that I might well die, but even if it did, it would be after seeing the most beautiful scene of my life--and that it would be okay.

Watery

I dreamed all night, but the most vivid images--and sadly the only part I can remember now--were this morning, just before I woke up.

I was climbing steep sand hills with some other people, trying to get somewhere. I was worried about two of the people with me, and how they'd make it up. One of them said it was no problem, because they had a sled and could just slide down. For some reason, this comforted me, even though it clearly wouldn't have helped them get up the hills.

At the top of the hill, though, everything changed. Suddenly, instead of golden sand, there was a lot of water. To my left was a glassy looking lake, and the colors were so bright and sharp that the overwhelming sense was Alpine. As I looked, I could see traces of bright white ice clinging to the surface in places. Then I noticed ice around long branches of what I assumed was some sort of seaweed, and my view was almost as if I were looking at the water from below its surface. Underwater vegetation usually massively creeps me out, but these, which increased into a veritable forest as I moved along, were bright red and bright yellow, and it looked like woods in their full autumnal splendor--stunningly beautiful.

Then I was in the road, but the road was water, as clear and crisp at the lake to my left, but moving with a quick current. I was fully clothed, but got in and discovered it was definitely refreshing, but not too cold. I was hesitant to put my head under, but tipped it back and was delighted with the sensation. The person I was with started swimming, and although I'm not at all a fast swimmer in real life, I discovered that with the current and my suddenly powerful strokes, I could keep up with him easily. It was elating!

He decided that we should get out and go to an indoor pool, where all of us could swim together. I was disappointed about this, but went in. There was a heated indoor pool, where quite a few people were swimming, and then, beyond a window, but perhaps contiguous with the indoor pool, was another, uncovered pool. As I watched, a few people were swimming, but then the water began to get choppy with motorboats. Two of them seemed to be having a competition, and one cut suddenly to the side of the indoor pool as I watched. But then the entire pool was moving! We were on a massive boat that contained the indoor pool, and started traveling down the river.

Sadly, I woke up before I could go swimming again.

Sunshine

i haven't posted in a long time because i haven't remembered my dreams in a long while or i'll only remember just bits and pieces which aren't necessarily all that interesting.

i've babysat my parents parakeet, sunshine, three or four times now.  she's a pretty little thing and can be quite entertaining at times.  i'm currently taking care of her and these are two dreams i've had about her.  the first one is from several months ago, the second one i had just this morning.

i realized that sunshine had been quiet for most of the day and figured i should probably go check on her to make sure she was ok.  normally she chirps throughout the day but in the dream, she had been silent.  i found her sitting at the bottom of the cage and thought that was a little unusual for her so i stepped up to take a closer look.  and there, clutched in her claws was a mouse about half the size of her!  she wasn't pecking at it or trying to eat it or anything, she was just holding on to it with all her might.  i couldn't help but wonder first of all how a mouse could have gotten into her cage and secondly, why it wasn't trying to escape.  i could see clearly that it was still alive.

this morning i dreamed i was at home and arguing with someone.  i was nervous that the loud noise of us yelling might bother sunshine so i went to check on her.  i had to blink a couple of times because she was light blue with dark blue feathers.  as i stared at her, she turned completely white and then her normal yellow with black and gray markings.  i stood there with my mouth hanging open trying to figure out how she managed to magically changed colors before my very eyes.

Gravity and Obama

I was with my aunt in a domed white building. Apparently we were in Rome, and the building was Catholic (at some point I had a little a-ha! moment when I realized it was Roman Catholic, though I'm not sure whether the Roman or the Catholic was the revelation). The interior was completely white, and benches of some sort wrapped the entire perimeter of the building, essentially floor to ceiling. Other people were also touring the building, and when I looked up I saw that people appeared to be walking, in some sort of gravity-defying illusion, on the ceiling. This was somehow explained, in bizarre dream-logic, by the fact that although we generally think of gravity as merely "down," it of course refers to the pull of a smaller object toward a much more massive one.

I totally wanted to climb on the ceiling, so my aunt and I went out to a narrow passageway where there was a staircase with a red wooden banister. At first it was easy to climb the stairs, but then I felt a strong pull back down the stairs, like I was losing my balance and the stairs were being pulled out from under me. It was a very unpleasant, vertiginous feeling, and I realized I just didn't have the fortitude to climb on the ceiling.

So we sort of slid back down the stairs, holding on to the banister, and then went outside to continue our tour of Rome.

Later I dreamed that there was a cute little boy in a highchair, who was rocking back and forth so that if I hadn't stepped in and caught him, he would have fallen over backward. He pointed down and said "Floor!" so I undid his little safety belt so that he could play on the floor. Then I noticed that Barack Obama was giving some sort of speech in the other corner of the room. He left, and I knew that he was going to come back in the entrance right beside us. He did, and I said to the little boy, "There he is!" and he waved at us.

Pie, running, polka dots

I woke up dreaming about delicious pie. Upon waking, it struck me as an odd combination: blueberries, apples, and raisins, I think, all in sort of a souffle-like base--maybe something like a shoo fly pie? (I only had that once, about 15 years ago.) I poked "ooh" into the top crust with my fork tines, apparently to show someone my appreciation. Did I mention that it was delicious?

Before that, I dreamed that I had gone running with the African American family across the street--a father and about seven kids of varying ages. The street in question was the one I lived on with my parents in Portland, although the neighbor family has no precedent in reality. Before we went running, I had somehow gotten sucked into some sort of baseball game with them.

And before THAT, there was to be a wedding. I don't remember whose, but we were getting ready. Or, my mom was getting ready and I was entertaining a small girl in a shopping cart who had a volume of Childcraft. I was excited to read to her about Frog and Toad. On the bed, I noticed a strange little leotard garment. It was silky, black with white polka dots and fluttery sleeves. Then, a short-ish teenager who I recognized as a celebrity, and who had long bleached-blond hair, picked up the garment and put it on (or, rather, it materialized on her; I don't remember any dressing involved). In the dream, I thought she might be Ashlee Simpson, although, as is usual when I dream about a celebrity, a Google afterward indicated how wrong I was. On her, the little leotard thing (which apparently she was going to wear to the wedding) also had odd pink ruffles. She said, excitedly, "How do I look?" I replied (quite diplomatically, I thought!), "No one could wear it like you!"

volcanoes

it was me, my mom, my grandmother, and my youngest brother. they had come to california to visit me (like they did when i first moved out here). i took them sightseeing on the coast (like we did in real life). this time we went to some historic mansion and took a tour. we were learning about the history of the place (none of which i can remember from the dream) and then were led up to a rooftop restaurant. once on the rooftop we notice that the main view was that of a most awesome (in the true sense of the word) volcano. it was at sunset and the colors in my dream were so incredibly brilliant. the volcano would erupt every few minutes, making a very loud rumbling noise that sent chills up my spine every time. when the lava would run down the volcano, it was in technicolor orange/red. i remember feeling so privileged to have the whole experience. somewhere over dinner i said to my little brother - and to think republicans say that studying volcanoes is a waste of money! (this was obviously connected to bobby jindal's remarks)

Hair

I was styling my hair in the mirror. It was somewhat longer than it is in real life, but approximately the same color--except for the streaks. I had a big chunk of bright fuchsia where my natural red streak is, and as I continued to play with my hair, a purple chunk appeared, too. I had this cool overlapping effect going, kind of messy and very hip. But as I messed with it, it suddenly seemed to have too much product in it and just to look greasy and weird. I sort of slunk out of the bathroom hoping my family wouldn't think it was too strange.

Scenes

Friday night I had fairly vivid, episodic dreams all night long. Saturday morning I couldn't remember most of them, but a few did stick out.

-There were a lot of fat babies. In the dream, they were very cute, but upon waking consideration, remembering our exclamations over their multiple chins, I'm thinking they were morbidly obese.

-I was preparing two kinds of cheese and bread for some event. The bread I was just slicing or tearing (it was white and very soft), but the cheese I was actually making. One of the cheeses was orange, and the other one was white. The white was very soft, kind of like ricotta, and had some herbs or something in it. When I tasted it, though, it was bland and kind of grainy.

-I was at a wedding--with my dad, I think. It involved a huge parade to a specific location. The guests followed--and sort of became part of--the parade, behind costumed acrobats and the like. The parade stopped when we reached the destination, which was just the street in a nice historic neighborhood, with the setting sun in the background. We all stopped, and the officiant said something, to which the bride--who was very petite, with a small, white, heart-shaped face and dark hair (I think she may have been a character in a book I'm reading, Claire in White Oleander), responded. When she did, a lantern that someone had been holding went out, and everything went black. When I was able to see a second later, I had been whisked along with the crowd in the opposite direction, deliberately turning our backs on the bride. I "remembered" (whether I'd actually been told earlier in the dream or if dubious dream-memory filled it in) that it was some sort of gypsy (?) tradition, where because the bride had been unfaithful to someone else, the community shamed her by pretending to go along with the wedding, but then at the last minute, showing their displeasure. I felt bad about it.

Purple

Last night's dreams were all pretty strange, but perhaps the most surreal moment was when my neighbor, her boyfriend, and Snoop Dogg (I think) came into my apartment all dressed in purple and wanting my opinion on the clothes they were going to wear to a wedding they were in.

My neighbor's boyfriend was in a royal purple, crushed velour vest with a lavender shirt and a baby blue tie. He had matching royal purple slacks. My neighbor was wearing something similar, also royal purple, but it was more of a crushed velour jumper. Snoop Dogg had on a royal purple top, but lavender slacks.

My neighbors were the ones in the wedding; I guess Snoop Dogg was just there to help them model clothes. He seemed a little sensitive when I asked something like, "Do you all have lavender pants--?"

I think the wedding was to be that afternoon, and my neighbors were kind of freaking out about what would look best. I did like the suit with the vest and tie, and remembered thinking it was interesting to assign a color or material (crushed velour?) to your wedding party, and then let them go wild and surprise you.

Lateness

Once again, I was running late to catch a flight and hadn't packed.

I was playing chess in the kitchen (I remember the board and it was completely improbable...) when I looked at the clock and saw that it was nearly 9:15. I realized that we should probably already be on our way to the airport, and I wasn't even dressed, let alone packed.

In the bathroom, my contacts were in what looked like a small, shallow, petri dish--and there were probably 10 of them. I knew that only two were my correct lenses, but figured that the others were old lenses that could work in a pinch. I got my right one in, but then couldn't find the left one. I tried on a couple that turned out to be soft lenses instead of hard ones; one was a gigantic blue lens that was way larger than my iris. At one point when I looked down at the petri dish, the contacts were all folding over on themselves, and some looked like they were made out of red rubber.

When I went to the bedroom, my suitcase was open but basically empty, and the closet was full of stuff that needed to be packed. I wasn't dressed, though, and I couldn't figure out what to wear on the plane. I tried on my new pair of striped gray slacks, but they looked funny. Then I realized I'd put them on over jeans. I took them off and decided to wear the jeans. I found an awesome sweater, a slim little scoop-neck, with wide horizontal stripes of navy and lime and narrow emerald ones, and half-length sleeves, which I thought would go perfectly with my new green trench coat.

The whole time I'd been dressing, I'd been trying frantically to do the math in my head on exactly how late we were. My flight was supposed to leave at 10:24, which meant I should be there not much later than 9:24. Then my sister said it would take 29 minutes to get to the airport! Dream math is not my forte, but I finally realized we should have left at 9:04. That's about when I woke up.

I'm halfway through my exams; apparently lateness to catch a flight is my subconscious' most accessible anxiety theme!

Truckin'

I got back to my car after doing something, and it wouldn't start. I rolled down the hill I'd parked on in the alley, but because it was an automatic I couldn't compression start it, and came to a stop by a gas station. I figured I either needed a jump start or some gas, so I went in to the office to check about a jump first.

The man who came out to help me was named Stovlos, and he was old and short and round, with an accent. He went right to work on my car, which at some point became a huge U-Haul truck. He and his crew of young helpers were taking things apart and welding other things on while I wandered around the gas station.

At one point, there was a huge, maybe 10-foot high pile of pale tan teddy bears, with the movable joints, and all of these young people in bright green and red jackets (embroidered, I think, with the words Happy Holidays). Then the kids carted off the teddies before I could get a picture on my camera phone. But then the kids were walking through these tents, perusing tables like at a bazaar. I saw one pick up a paintbrush, and another pick up a blank wooden palette. I think they were supposed to be some sort of elves!

There was a display of sunglasses, and I tried on a huge pair with transparent pink frames, the lenses dark at the top and pink at the bottom. People who walked by laughed at (with) me. I looked in the mirror, and they were terrible! They made me look all squinchy. I was putting back a second pair when one of the young workers, the dark-haired one, came up to me, and I leaned back against him. He put his arm around my waist, and I let him walk with me until he went for the hem of my shirt, at which point I shook him off and went back to the truck.

Back at the truck, things were really apart, and I was nervous. It looked like they had cut some sort of hole in the ceiling in back--I guess to get to the attic! But as I was standing there, they managed to start the truck up. So we all got in; I think we were going to get some lunch and/or return the trailer. I figured I would treat since they had all worked so hard. Stovlos was driving, and I was sitting in the back of the truck with the blond helper, who wasn't as attractive as the dark-haired one, but was friendly in a shy way. I guess Stovlos couldn't turn the truck around, because he decided to back out of the alley, at top speed. The blond guy and I had windows we could look out of, and we seemed to be the only ones who could really see what was going on. At the end of the alley, before we hit the road, were gigantic--20 foot--asphalt hills and valleys, like a roller coaster. Stovlos hit them at high speed, and I was sure we were going to get high-centered or otherwise stuck, and screamed the whole time. Until we hit the road, and were fine. I looked over and the blond boy had tears in his eyes, so I hugged him and put my head on his shoulder and he reached up and played with my hair.

Once we hit the road, Stovlos kept driving backward, although it was easier on a smooth surface. Looking out the windows, we saw dolphins jumping out of the water! I think we were driving by Lake Michigan, so I don't know how there were dolphins there, but there were. We seemed to be heading north, but I had no idea where we were going or why, and decided just to go with it. I asked what time it was, and the blond guy told me it was 8:30. "Eight thirty a.m.?" I asked incredulously. "Cross my heart!" he responded, and I think he was actually serious. It was dusky outside, and I couldn't figure that one out. As we drove through the city, outside eateries were packed with people.

We finally stopped so that Stovlos could drive forward instead of backward. He came up to where the blond and I were sitting, which was then the front, and I scooted into the middle so that he could drive. He immediately started going, and nearly got us squashed between two lanes of traffic, as the right lane was ending. "The light was blue when I started," he said by way of explanation.

My exams start today at 10:00, and for an anxiety dream, this one wasn't actually so bad!

Mangopeño Pistachio Parfait!

I was at this fabulous ice cream parlor in Lincoln called Ivanna Cone, which I--sadly--haven't actually visited in nearly four years. Apparently I had ridden my bike there, and as I looked at my bare arms, I realized that either it was warm out or that I was completely crazy.

In addition to more traditional flavors of their homemade ice cream, Ivanna Cone always offers several exotic options, and the selection this day was no exception. I looked and looked, trying to decide what to order. I was about to get something traditional (chocolate, probably), when a small container of vibrant, shiny emerald green cubes caught my eye. This, I saw, was the mangopeño--a combination, clearly, of mango and jalapeño. I asked the guy behind the counter if it was very hot, and he responded that it wasn't bad--that it actually could be spicier. Next to the cubes was an example of a parfait that could be made with the mangopeño.

On a whim, and feeling very impulsive and adventuresome, I ordered the mangopeño, in a parfait layered with creamy pistachio ice cream (which had a pale green swirl and had that sort of gritty look of ice cream made in a freezer at home--though it doesn't actually taste gritty). I thought the creamy pistachio would cut the spicy mangopeño nicely.

They made it in a tall (10"?) cylindrical glass with thick ribs, and I remember wondering how I was going to get it home on my bicycle, and deciding that I'd eat it there--maybe on the bench outside that paint-your-own ceramics shop. It cost $5.20, and I pulled out a ten dollar bill. Sadly, it may have been finding the right change that cost me tasting the concoction; I looked for and found two dimes, and was just handing them over when my alarm went off. I woke up with Mangopeño Pistachio Parfait! ringing in my head, but not, sadly, remaining on my tongue.

Demon cats

She pointed out the moving things in a dark corner--something black and fluttery? At first, they seemed simply to be black moths. Then they were bigger: bats? Finally, they emerged in their final form as sleek, very thin black cats with bat wings and strange green eyes. They were not very big, but seemed vicious--likely because of their long, pointed teeth. There was an entire collection of them--six or seven. We contained them by binding them together in some way, and I tried to get good pictures of them using my digital camera. They kept moving, though, so I wasn't sure I'd captured them.

Somehow, the dog--like a small golden retriever at first, but later more like a terrier--was attached to them, whether because he had pursued them and his leash (red) had gotten tangled with their bonds, or because someone had connected him in an attempt to control the cats. Somehow, he ended up being dragged along behind them and getting roughed up--the skin on his sides was scratched and his fur was bloody. When they stopped, he lay perfectly and frighteningly still on the chair, and I was afraid he was dead. I noticed that his tail was sticking out rigidly over the edge of the chair, which I was afraid indicated rigor mortis. But when we got up closer, and touched him, he moved! He was definitely alive, and looked like he was going to make it.

There was lots more, which I wish I could remember. Unfortunately, all I have is vague snippets, including going to a church where the pastor was promising a million dollars to volunteers who could complete some task. I'm pretty sure that part was inspired by this YouTube video.

Saturday night

It was Saturday night, and I had plans with friends. My neighbor called to see if I could give her and her boyfriend a ride to the ice skating rink, from which they would then meet up with other friends for a birthday party at the bar. I was headed the same way, so I thought it would work out, but for some reason was hedging a little bit. Then I realized that as I was pacing around on the porch in front of our house, she was too! She wasn't even on the phone, though I was; she'd been hearing my questions as I asked them and just answering them in person. Anyway, I hung up and in person we decided that I would get dinner, and then pick them up at about 6:45.

I went back inside my apartment and saw that it was only 3:21, even though it felt much later and was dusk outside. I found a book that, among other things, categorized every single one of the Star Wars figurines ever made, and somehow thought that my neighbor's sister would be very interested in it for her newborn son. She happened to be out on the porch with a bunch of other people, some of them playing guitars, but was just coming back inside because the baby had awakened. I showed her the book and she was fairly interested.

As I headed across the hall back into my apartment, I saw my reflection in the mirror. I was wearing a powder blue shirt that I realized my mom had sewn for me. It had a swooping round neck-piece/collar; a bust like Lyra's blue dress in The Golden Compass; and a fitted, strappy-looking bodice. At least, it was fitted in front, but as I turned around to look at the back, it gapped a little bit.

When I got in, I sat on my sofa and looked at earrings from my jewelery bag. A pair of silver hoops with tiny little dark blue sequins at the bottom looked awesome, and I thought about wearing them. On the stereo (apparently I hear in dreams, too, after all...) was a skipping CD of an impassioned version of Sting's "Fields of Gold," although it may have been a U2 cover, and had a slightly heavier feel. It made me feel kind of emotional, and I wanted to make a phone call, although I'd already talked to him for a couple of hours earlier in the day. Then my alarm went off, and I woke up still missing him and feeling a little sad.

Earlier in the dream, I was helping a grad school friend with a fundraiser. She was filling an old claw-foot tub with potting soil, with a little footstool in the middle and some other buried things, like a wagon wheel. People were supposed to guess how much just the potting soil on top of the footstool weighed (wrapped in a silver package, I think) and how much the entire tub weighed. At first, she was going to charge $30/guess, but then when I saw the banner she'd made later, it had a little starburst indicating $10, but said "donations encouraged." I don't know how much they were to win if they got it. I took a picture and posted it on my blog, and Curly Sue commented first.

Boys, bikes, fishes, theory

I was leaving school with a couple of friends from my department. They were taking the bus and I was going to bike, but we walked together until our paths diverged. As one of them said goodbye, he stood very close to me and put his arm around my shoulders, and it brought back a too-familiar and distinctly unpleasant sensation that I was going to have to, yet again, extricate myself from a situation I never intended, because I had somehow given the wrong impression (see Wedding Nightmare).

When I got to my bike, it was in the parking lot, propped up on its kickstand and unlocked. It was my beloved (stolen) yellow Trek instead of my new bike, and some papers were tucked under the brake cables. The first was a general notice from the campus bike police, saying something to the effect that someone had noticed that my bike wasn't locked up. Below that was a dreadful, grease-stained essay from one of my students. It wasn't even two pages long, and he had quoted an entire paragraph of uselessness. (It looked like an actual paper he turned in on Friday, but I'm pretty sure in the dream it referenced the paper I've been working on all weekend, and my own useless quoting--Baudrillard, thou villain!) It also made repeated references to someone's face being the color of chili sauce.

Then I was in class, and we were watching a film--or a trailer for a film. It was apparently about a boy who turned into a cat... or a fox... or a wolf (probably a brain cross-reference to two separate characters in the Harry Potter books). But he also had a small stuffed fox, who was bright orange,* and was his friend. Then they were rushing through the water, swimming... or drowning... and the fox saved the boy. Only, the fox turned into a bright orange goldfish! And the goldfish saved him, but by dying... and then not dying, in this cosmic scene where their eyes got really big and everything sort of glowed! I turned to my friend Susan, and whispered, "The sacred gesture!" (Last semester we were in an Anthropology seminar called "Ideas of the Sacred," which I dug and which drove her a little crazy, and now I see it in everything, including H.P., of course, and apparently even in my dreams.) She whispered back, "I like it when he just quotes Poisson," which I thought was very witty, since I thought I knew this philosopher, and since his name also meant fish.

A friend from college was sitting in front of me, and he turned around and tapped my knee.

But I was encased in a horizontal pillar... or I was a pillar... and I couldn't open my eyes because they were stuck shut... and there was a noise in the distance... which I eventually recognized as my alarm.

*Orange was the color of my first wedding nightmare.

Ghostbusters!

I don't remember any of the details, but I was at the office with some old coworkers from a different gig - the office was like a game show, we all sat behind the brightly colored consuls - and suddenly we were attacked by ghosts.

Turns out that I know the people who have come to save us from the ghosts, they're friends from a different gig, and as they catch the ghost, I'm all, "Hiiiiii Eddie!" And he's so excited to see me and suggests that I come along for the ride, which makes me an official ghostbuster too.

We went to a few different locations and caught some ghouls, or at least made sure they wouldn't frighten people anymore. And then we went into this room, which looked exactly like a woods and we were joking around and laughing, and I was taking polaroid pictures, and as we were about to leave, one of the pictures came into focus; a girl in a brightly colored green dress was being hung/neck slashed by a huge ghost behind one of the trees.

So everyone stopped having fun and became scared and started hunting this monster. We were running around and trying to get it, while it was doing the same to us. I think it was shooting something from a gun, but not bullets, to get us. Anyway, I happened to look down and see an ancient newspaper clipping about the girl. Somehow I reasoned that this was her destiny/hell/etc and that we couldn't save her, the best we could do was get out alive. I told this to Eddie who was crouching with me at that spot, and we both left the room stealthy. We took a deep breathe when we got out to the van, even though some random man was driving.

The van looked hilarious, it was like a Jed Clampett car, all stacked up with various boxes and it didn't look like it could hold us, or even where we would sit. Eddie opened this giant cereal box and climbed inside and told me to do the same.

I think I woke up after that. But the colors were really vivid, little spots of bright color in the grey/brown palate of everything else. I wonder if that's from watching Life is Beautiful last night before bed?