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January 31, 2011

It’s another installment of Monday Morning Guest Blogger. This week’s contributer wishes to remain anonymous, and in that spirit, I’ve changed some of the names IN the dream (forgive me). Remember, if you have a dream you’d like to submit, let me know and I’ll be happy to include it in the next m.m.g.b. portion! Actually, nothing could be sadder than a weekly feature that never gets featured due to lack of participation. So, help me out, readers!

It starts off I’m at some sort of fair. There are tables outside and inside. I have no idea what the fair was all about. (I did in the dream, but I don’t now.) It keeps raining and stopping outside, so I start to bring some of the stuff that’s outside indoors. I am suddenly at my church instead of where I was before but the fair is still happening as if nothing changed.

Dream shift

My husband and I are trying to find a place to be “alone.” We keep going to different spots (a weirdly shaped bathroom, a room with an old fashioned wooden stretcher) and people keep catching us and stopping us.

Dream shift

There’s a bunch of younger kids who want to hook up, only I’m the only one who really knows this for some reason. (I am not myself in this dream- I’m some sort of narrator who is involved in what’s going on, ala Grey’s Anatomy or Desperate Housewives). This one little girl (who looks like the little girl from that Rock movie with the quarterback) and she is having a sleepover. She’s invited 2 boys and a girl. Her parents are paranoid (with good reason) and they are setting up all kinds of precautions. There used to be a room in the downstairs of the house that was secluded and kind of like a fort room, but some woman said she had to renovate it because the owner said the pool wasn’t big enough (I distinctly remember her telling me this- that a boy had been swimming in the pool- which is OUTSIDE by the way and has nothing to do with the room- and had complained it wasn’t big/deep enough, so the parents were remodeling). So the kids had to sleep in the rooms upstairs by the parents. They were annoyed, but I was relieved.

Then we (as the audience, I suppose) see the parents setting up their precautions- they have this crazy inflatable plastic tube thing. It hooks up on the middle of the headboard (of the girl’s bed) and goes down across the bed to the bottom (footboard.) It’s sort of like an arc when set up. They explain to the cameras (in an interview room, ala Jersey Shore or America’s Next Top Model or any other reality TV show probably) that the tubing will light up, make sounds, alert the parents and capture the “trespasser’s” hand print if someone were to try to go over, under, through, or around it. I, as the narrator?, try to think of ways around it, but it’s pretty foolproof.

We see the kids laying in bed, but every time they shift positions the light goes off and it’s generally just very annoying. I don’t remember why but I go to tell the parents something- (maybe that it’s really annoying?) and suddenly I’m a real person and a part of this dream. On the way I see the different parameters they have set up around the house- for example an inflatable bin with one condom in it (that looks like a face-cleaning circle cloth) that clearly sounds an alarm if you reach in to grab it. I go to the couch and tell the parents something. They turn around and look at me.

Dream Shift

I’m in a parking lot with a bunch of people sitting in our car. We look over and I see my former supervisor getting out of the car. I then see Maci from Teen Mom getting out of my supervisor’s car. She is very pregnant. We are all laughing because I had apparently just been talking about how funny it would be if my supervisor’s new nanny was Maci from Teen Mom. We go into the restaurant and I try to avoid them the whole time.

Dream Shift

We’re in some sort of… community. The details of this part of the dream are a bit fuzzy. There is a small group of people (elders of sorts) who somehow are determining who in the community is a sinner and who is not. If you happen to walk through the doorway that divides the two, you will be judged and they’ll determine where you go. There is a glass wall between the two groups. The whole time I am looking over to the “non-sinner” side to make sure the people over there stay there. There are only about 10 of them and they’re all sleeping in cribs (even the adults…) and I’m so afraid they’re going to be pulled over. (Everything over there is bright and white.)

“Our side” (the sinner side) is just regular- it’s like a little town that shifts with some sort of basement-like hang out spot. Courtney and I are waiting to find out how they rule us. If you are found to be a sinner you are (typically) “killed” immediately and “sent to hell.” (Those that are seen being banished just sort of get sucked into a bright light and disappear.) I am being ridiculously snarky the whole time and basically poking holes in all of their logic. I have no idea why I have no regard for my life, but I essentially feel it is my duty to stand up for everyone and tell the “elders” how they are terrible.

Throughout this portion of the dream we are in different locations.
-Sitting on a couch in basement-like hangout (as mentioned before). There are clothes all around us and they seemed to be grouped in pairs (by similarities.) Kearbear* and Elephant* are debating over whether if you choose the right article of clothing you can go back to the “good side.” It’s a theory they have about the stitching/ materials of the clothing around them.
-Courtney and I are standing in front of a little cafe. We’re in a big crowd, but the elders have a small group pulled into the open. They’re called “the bloggers” and we are told “the bloggers will now be judged.” Court and I initially think all bloggers are going to be judged, and we smirk at each other because we know we are included in this group. (It basically becomes a running gag about all of the reason we are to be judged.)

The elders start asking people to raise their hands if they’ve eaten certain items (which they name individually) off the menu. People around us raise their hands and Courtney and I do too because they sound delicious. (At one point I turn to Court and mumble, “I can’t even eat that but I WOULD!”) Then “the bloggers” get really excited and start yelling off menu items to see who’s eaten them. I get excited when I see “The Laredo* Special” on the menu and contemplate yelling out about it. I daydream about what it could be (gluten-free pizza dough, dairy-free pesto and lots of veggies) but decide not to yell out.

Somewhat Dreamshift

I’m back in the basement-y room again. I’m sewing? Courtney is gone but AJ* has come to visit. I fill him in about what’ going on and give an angry and passionate account of the process. AJ* gets angry and I worry aloud if he’ll be able to return to the “other side.” [Side note: It is clear that this happens every year, so even if you’re deemed “good” you have to go through it again next year.]

Somewhat Dreamshift

Courtney’s back and we’re sitting at a counter still sewing or something. It is actually the kitchen counter from one of my houses growing up. The elders are in these offices behind us. We can hear that they are looking at Twitter to see if they can determine if any more of us are “sinners.” Courtney and I discuss what they could really find on our Twitters and Courtney surmises that hers “is private so they won’t be able to see it.” I tell her there are ways around it. I then state that if they hacked into my facebook I’m screwed.

Somewhat Dreamshift

The elders have decided that everyone who’s ever owned a purple bicycle is deemed a sinner and banished to hell. This is a trick, because it seems that all bicycles are purple when created and then repainted during production, thus- everyone who’s ever owned a bicycle is banished to hell. I have the upper-hand, however, because my bicycle was never purple and I know this for a fact. Somehow this excuses me from judgment and I am free to go. I ride my non-purple bicycle down Lowell Road in Hudson and I’m weaving between all these old people and people dressed as Santa. I pass a cop car and worry because I’m not really obeying traffic laws, but they just warningly smile at me.

Suddenly I’m “home.” I crawl into bed and tap the inflatable tube in the middle. It connects me (via telephone) to Dave* and I tell him that I’m home safe.

*Name changed! But you can probably still figure it out.

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