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Last night's dream:

Queen Elizabeth II, close to death, requests my presence because she wants to hang out with me before she dies... merely because I'm cool, it seems.

This involves a large Royal Family-plus-friends gathering, taking place in a tastefully decorated parlor and in a large garden with two large (playground-style) metal slides.

I had fun on the slides. I had fun talking to the other people there. They were mannerly, kind, a little puzzled by my presence, but clearly fond of the Queen and happy to indulge her wish to hang out with me. Then, suddenly, the Queen begins to deflate like a balloon. I am frightened and grieved, though quiet. Everyone else is much more contained. She is taken to the hospital, is treated, and comes back to the garden portion of the party, much weaker.

Apparently, though, even if the Queen is across a large garden from you and having a private conversation with someone else, it is rude bordering on treasonous to speak to anyone while the Queen is speaking. Who knew? (Clearly, my twisted little brain knew... but who else?)

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debboamerik

January 2011

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