On the Road Again

Last night in Dreamland, Karen, Alayne, and I took a road trip to the northwest corner of a Midwestern state. I grew up in the state, but didn't spend much time there (except for a weekend trip where I got drunk with a preacher's kid, but I digress). As we drove to our first stop, I spotted a quaint-looking village complete with clock tower, but alas we could not stop because Karen just "wanted to get there!" Sigh....I will visit you again in Dreamland, little quaint village. We did, however, stop at a good brewery, so Karen is forgiven...this time.

Our first destination was Lake Magnifique, which was beautiful enough if you could see it through the speedboat traffic. I don't think peaceful walks on the beach were possible, primarily because I didn't notice a beach, or any moment of peace.
We checked in to our AirBnB, which was supposed to be a cabin in the woods. Which it was, except we shared said "cabin" (an aluminum-sided house with mold problems and one small bathroom) with a family, including a nosy 10-year-old boy. We also--all three of us--shared a bedroom, complete with "comfy" cots. Ugh.

I had to remind myself that this was just the first night of our awesome road trip--I was excited to see what the rest of the town around Lake Magnifique had to offer (actually, nothing--just a locals bar we were afraid to go in to), AND what the rest of this area of the state had to offer.

After a rough night, we were surprised to see three more friends, who took that moment to share some pretty juicy secrets with me! Thanks, everyone!

As all things go in Dreamland, the trip ended there, and the secrets are safely left there too. Or are they??!!!

Term Paper!

Last night in Dreamland, I had a term paper due. I loved the class, I was interested in the subject, and the professor was really cool, but still I had procrastinated. The paper was due by midnight; I could submit it on-line, but still I had to research and write it.
[Miss Goody-Two-Shoes Karen had finished hers and was flying to someplace cool, of course!]

To my friends who are professors, I must apologize. I was your worse nightmare in Dreamland. I asked to be allowed to work on my paper at my professor's house. Then, I couldn't remember the two questions that had to be answered in the body of the paper. Then, I moved stuff around in her house, and ate a lot of her food.

I did write the start of the paper while still in Dreamland:  "My mom said I could be anything I wanted to be, but until we women had access to birth control and reproductive health services, including abortion, my mom would be wrong."

After writing that and thinking it was pretty darn good, I remembered that our professor had also given us a list of words; 50 of them had to be included in our term paper. I had to track down that list!
The professor saw this as an opening, and threw me out of her house (she didn't even offer a copy of the word list to me). By that time, Karen was on the plane, and I couldn't call her. Time was running out--where could I get that list???

And, as it always ends in Dreamland, I woke up.

I Got A Solid!

Last night/this morning, I had trouble getting to Dreamland. After a mostly fitful, sleepless night, I was desperate for just ONE hour of solid sleep. And I got it!! I got a solid ONE HOUR this morning!

No, I don't care that my co-worker was strapped into a hideous-colored car and kidnapped.

No, I don't care that when I went to save my co-worker, I had to hang from the side of a hot-air balloon. I know who to thank for this one, Peter and Anna.

And I don't care I had to give a four-year-old my iPad because I hugged her too hard and got white shoe polish on her dress.

I DON'T CARE!!! I GOT A SOLID HOUR OF SLEEP!!!!

Represent

Last night in Dreamland, I headed to a local factory to hang out with some friends who worked there. It was late afternoon, and not much work was going on, so we had a lot of time to talk.

We decided to head to a local restaurant, but were prevented from leaving by the Secret Service. Turns out The President--yes, the current "Our Leader"--was in the building. We watched through a wall of glass while "Our Leader" played ping-pong and laughed it up with state and local dignitaries. Since they could only see us and not hear us, we made fun of all of them.

The time came for "Our Leader" to leave the building, so we were pushed back against a wall, and handed a state flag (we were handed the state flag of Iowa, not Indiana, but I digress), and told to wave it when he walked by. It was pretty dark in the hallway we were standing in, so my friends and I decided to do something to show we were not fans of this president. We would wait until he was passing by, and then "boo" him. It was a heady moment; some of us could lose our jobs by doing anything provocative, but all felt it was the right thing to do.

Just at the moment he passed, we started to "boo"--it sounded like a tornado siren (you know, slow and quiet to start, then gains strength). Our Leader stopped. His head turned, but in the dim light he really couldn't see anything but shadows. "Stop," he shouted. "Who was that?!" he demanded.

There was a moment of silence. All the air, and the sound, left our group. As I said, there were a few of us who could lose our jobs for this. Others of us had small children, and could not risk being arrested.

I stepped forward.

I woke up.

I spent a lot of time after I woke up, deciding what I would have said, as representative of a group of friends so diverse, yet so impacted by the actions of this man. Where to start?

Don't Tiger Briefcase Shower

This week in Dreamland, I was presented with three cautionary tales....

First, I learned that Karen and I should never foster, and raise, a tiger cub. While they may be cute for a while, and you can trust them for
a bit, eventually, they will grow up and try to bite your face off.
Point taken.

The next night, I learned that it's not a good idea to carry around a briefcase full of uranium. While most of my dreams are random, I can completely explain this one.
You just have to read The Accidental Further Adventures of the Hundred-Year-Old Man. Then you too will know why this is a bad idea and how you will end up in North Korea.

Finally, I was reminded never to take a shower in a hotel lobby. For if you do, you will be interrupted over 20 times by each of the Democratic nominees for president!!




You can thank me later for sharing this knowledge with you.

Baby Baby

In an epic, "Well, don't that beat all?!", dream last night, Karen and I decided that each of us should have a baby. Evidently, we could get a great deal on a BOGO do-it-yourself kit, complete with directions on how to obtain sperm (it wasn't included). There were no guarantees that we would both end up pregnant, but we were certainly eager to try! We were able to get the required sperm (name of the potential father is being withheld for privacy and likely embarrassment reasons), and used the trusty turkey baster (also not provided--now I understand why the kits were so cheap!). All we had to do was wait for the results of the pregnancy tests (actually provided!).

Sadly, I woke up before finding out whether we had babies. We were pretty excited, and as so often happens in Dreamland, there were plenty of people, living and dead, who made an appearance--this time to show their support for our "endeavor".

Dreamland really is a magical place--for a few moments, you can once again see those loved ones you thought were gone forever. You can laugh, have an adventure, have great discussions with the deceased, and when you wake up (if you're like me), you feel the pang of loss all over again. But when I leave Dreamland I also smile, because for one moment, we have reconnected, which is such a gift.

Yup, I'll take the Dreamland babies if it means I get to see some special visitors too.

Movie Yes, Davidson No

Last night in Dreamland, I had a terrific time with my cousin Patti. We went to a really small movie theatre--the screen was no bigger than our television at home, but the movie was good, the snacks were tasty, and the seating was....eclectic.

After the movie, we met Karen at a restaurant with outdoor seating. We were seated near the curb, and the streets were packed. Evidently, a beloved priest had died and was lying "in state" in the middle of the street; his funeral was going to take place any minute, and we were right in the middle of it all. Karen was wearing her favorite "Davidson" sweatshirt (I didn't know she was a Wildcats fan, but anything is possible in Dreamland!), which was apparently the worst thing to wear as bystander to a priest's funeral. Some guy came up to our table, and shouted, "I can't believe you're wearing a Davidson anything here! It's a disgraceful slap in the face to our dead priest over there!! Shame on you!!!"
We were stunned.
And then I woke up.
Puzzled.

Holy Moley Holey!

First, the good Dreamland event:  Kamala Harris came to John's house, and Linda P. and I were there--don't know where the rest of all y'all were, but you missed an awesome event.
But, as so often happens in Dreamland, there was a weirder event to follow a mostly "normal" one. This involved a giant gopher, not quite as big as the one to the left, but one that had some real boring skills--the holes left by this destructive rodent were perfectly round.
And that would have been amazing to watch, if the holes being made were not IN OUR HOUSE!!
I first noticed the cats acting strangely on the porch, anxiously watching a spot in the concrete. Before long, a perfect circle formed, and the gopher's head pushed up, leaving concrete and a whole lot of dirt in its' wake. The cats were no match for the animal and its' large teeth, but it was flustered enough to disappear. Moments later, another perfect circle in the concrete and another mound of dirt. I hoped beyond hope that it would disappear forever this time, and ran to get Karen to help me watch. When we came back, the worst had happened--the horrible thing had made a hole in the hardwood floor and was taking a nap on the sofa in front of the fireplace!!! (Wait! Fireplace?? I like this Dreamland house better!!!) I screamed obscenities, and it skedaddled back down the hole.
I watched in horror as floorboards moved as the burrowing started again.

If you are faint of heart, stop reading now.

I told Karen to get me a hammer. [Honestly, first, I asked for a bottle, but realized it's head would be way too hard for that to do much damage]. Another hole in the hardwood floor, and then...yes...I "done her in."
Stupid gopher.

Relaxing Weekend?

Last night in Dreamland, Kila, Marci, Peter, and I decided to rent a beach house for a relaxing weekend. We arrived to find a house that was jam-packed with stuff (bric-a-brac), but with a stunning view of the ocean, right on the beach. We had a great weekend. Until Sunday.

Sunday morning, we were relaxing before we had to pack and leave, when a man and a woman entered the house through the kitchen. We assumed, rightly so, that these were the owners. They looked surprised to see us still there, which annoyed me because we had until noon to leave! They grabbed some scuba gear, and left without much said to us. We packed, then decided to have breakfast at the local pub before getting our stuff out of the house and leaving.

We had a great breakfast, but overheard a few guys talking in the next booth. Turns out our "hosts" had a reason for grabbing that scuba gear--they were going to rob a bank of $30 million by entering the vault through an underwater tunnel!!

When we got back to the house, the robbery must have already taken place, because the house was packed! All of the "gang" were buff and mean-looking, including the men! We nonchalantly got our stuff, and my sister started "straightening up"--I guess she was worried about losing our security deposit?! I grabbed her arm and pulled her out the door.

We didn't seem to arouse suspicion, not even when we left in Marci's multi-level Partridge Family-esque bus!

Thank goodness I woke up. I didn't want to go to prison...again...not like two nights ago! But that's another story.