debboamerik

Not last night, but the night before...

No, twenty-four robbers did not come knocking on my door. Instead, I had a very odd dream. Apparently, our Congressional Representative (which in my dream was not Chris Van Hollen, and I wish it weren't in real life, but hey) had to quit on short notice due to some kind of health problem. The local Democratic committee decided (why?) to run me. They told me on the day of the Special Election. I won.

As it turns out, Congressional Representatives live in circumstances similar to summer camp: a huge tent filled with bunk beds. The other women and I were complaining about how the men got a hot tub and we didn't. Still, we were comfortable enough, and all our dinners were paid for - dinners out at nice restaurants in the DC area. There were perks.

I was pretty sure my time in this little club was limited, and I was worried about the stability of my family life if I stayed in Congress, so I decided to focus on just one issue, and struggled between international conflicts and LGBT rights. Apparently, I chose LGBT rights, because my first speech on the floor of the House began, "My name is J_______ P_______, and I am here to recruit you." (I may have given the entire hope speech - not sure.)

Then my (current) boss came marching up to me in Congressional group housing and started yelling at me about how I didn't call to tell her I wouldn't be coming in, and she had to figure out where I was from the news.

I went in to work yesterday feeling oddly guilty.

Last night's dream was particularly odd. I dreamed that radicalphear was my sister (she's actually my cousin) and we shared a room. I had gotten undressed in order to put my pyjamas on without noticing that the curtain was open and there was a whole group of guys across the street watching and shouting lewd things. I was afraid, so I called out to my mother, who didn't want to be bothered with coming to my room. Instead, she picked up the phone and called... THE DYKE SQUAD.

In minutes, a woman arrived at my window. She asked what the problem was, magically took care of the scary men outside, comforted me because my mother couldn't be bothered, gave me Puerto Rican food (which I couldn't identify if you handed it to me), and promised to check in the next day. She was wearing a blue t-shirt marked "lesbian," which is apparently the Dyke Squad's uniform. I wanted to date her, but she ended up dating radicalphear instead while I dealt with the demands of a spider queen who required human sacrifice to prevent her from killing me. papertigers helped with this part (having magically appeared out of nothing at this point in the dream).

At some point, the Dyke Squad woman and radicalphear were wandering around a cross between Paris and Venice (Italy) - basically, Paris with canals - and called papertigers to ask if we would like ice cream and, if so, what kind. I said I wanted Coffee Heath Bar Crunch or any coffee-chocolate combination ice cream. papertigers was odd about this and insisted that I "only wanted Ben & Jerry's" because I was so difficult. I kept saying, "Or anything coffee and chocolate flavored!" but she wasn't listening. In the meantime, we had to serve the spider queen and help J.G. (a foster father of mine) talk about the problems with the American grading system with Diane Rehm.

At the end of the dream, we all went to IHOP to get coffee, only to realize that it was only open from 8-10 a.m.

When I woke up and told papertigers about the dream, she commented that we really need a Dyke Squad.

I woke up this morning at 5, unable to breathe. I got up at 6:30. I still can't breathe. However, I did have an interesting dream that one could speak an entire language by spitting watermelon seeds.

Lots to do today; we're leaving tomorrow.

✓go to Target for charger
✓buy cat food
✓make cat food
✓clean litterboxes
✓fill cat water
✓clean stove and counters
✓finish packing
✓print airport and car confirmation
✓print mapquest directions

Then I think we're taking off for Baltimore, though I'm not sure where we're staying tonight. We're out bright and very early tomorrow morning. *sigh* I hope I sleep, because I'm going to have to drive quite a ways after we get to L.A.

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?)

Last night's dream was particularly fun, and papertigers asked me to post it, so here goes.

papertigers and I decided to rent a house rather than an apartment. The best, cheapest one we could find belonged to tostita and obscurerichard, who were transformed into very nice but very conservative people. We were moving in there with both of seasonalkat's children, but not seasonalkat. I guess we stole them from her? It was in a town outside of Boston, so I needed to find a decent job in line with my training (still international relations) in a less likely place than DC. We had to have a three bedroom - one for us, one for the kids, and one for guests. Also, I was worried that tostita and obscurerichard wouldn't let us create a garden in the yard, but they told us it was OK as long as we kept their tomatoes alive all winter and took care of the strawberry trees. (Yes, that's right, strawberry trees).

Also, they were leaving all their bookshelves behind. papertigers and I were quite pleased about that. They had floor-to-ceiling bookshelves in the huge living room.