sidravitale (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sidravitale) wrote2005-11-04 04:06 pm
sidravitale) wrote2005-11-04 04:06 pm
Funky Dream
That was a weird one this morning, although I got a really nice hug at the end of it.
So, I dream that I'm in Alaska, talking in a vehicle with someone who has never been to Alaska before, and I'm giving my Alaska is a Dangerous Place lecture.
(The lecture goes like this, in real life:
Me: Alaska can kill you if you don't pay attention.
Listener: Yeah yeah yeah.
Me: No. Pay attention: Alaska can *kill* you if you don't pay attention.
Listener: Yeah yeah yeah.
and so on.)
So, I'm giving my Alaska lecture. (Wild animals, do you understand? Wild animals that might trample you if you scare them, got it? Yeah yeah yeah. Pay attention to what's going on around you. Unless you're *in* Anchorage, it's their habitat, not yours.)
The listener, a woman, is giving the usual response.
We are driving an SUV of some sort up a frickin' mountain.
We go around a switchback, cross an open space, and approach a body of frozen water, at about the time I'm thinking to myself that just because something traditionally is frozen at this time of year does not mean, in this age of melting permafrost in the Interior and the western Arctic strongly manifesting some of the side effects of climate change, that it is actually frozen now.
We drive out onto the ice, and you can hear the ice falling apart under the front wheels. I turn to the woman driving and tell her to back up, which she does. We're safe.
All of the sudden (well, it's a dream) there are these two little old ladies standing on another section of the ice, and it's like a gully and there's a road on the other side, and one of the old ladies suddenly falls through the ice as the bits breaking up because of our car reach her position. So, I leap out of the car and run on the magically-refrozen ice over there, and the ladies are suddenly a foot tall, and I grab the one that hasn't fallen yet, and the other one (the one in the red wool coat and matching hat) has dragged herself out of the water. Dragged isn't the right word. Explosive levitation would be better.
Now, aside from the sudden transformation of these ladies into Lilliputians, here's the bizarre part: there's![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mtreiten on the far side of that gully plus road from me, on the other side of a convoy truck or something, and he's in fatigues, might even be armed, and he leans to one side to look around the back of the truck and looks at me, like he's surprised I'm there. And I don't see why he should be, because it's *my* dream. If anyone would be there, it should be me.
Bam, we're in like a garden courtyard type thingy, and I'm talking on the phone, and there'smtreiten, no longer in camo, waiting for me to get off the phone, only he thinks I'm giving a radio interview about the anthology, but I'm actually giving a radio interview about the rescue of the little old lady, who I didn't really do much for, but it gets described as a rescue nontheless.
And when I get off the phone, I get a nice, long, comforting hug as a reward for my good deed. Which was just what I wanted.
So, I dream that I'm in Alaska, talking in a vehicle with someone who has never been to Alaska before, and I'm giving my Alaska is a Dangerous Place lecture.
(The lecture goes like this, in real life:
Me: Alaska can kill you if you don't pay attention.
Listener: Yeah yeah yeah.
Me: No. Pay attention: Alaska can *kill* you if you don't pay attention.
Listener: Yeah yeah yeah.
and so on.)
So, I'm giving my Alaska lecture. (Wild animals, do you understand? Wild animals that might trample you if you scare them, got it? Yeah yeah yeah. Pay attention to what's going on around you. Unless you're *in* Anchorage, it's their habitat, not yours.)
The listener, a woman, is giving the usual response.
We are driving an SUV of some sort up a frickin' mountain.
We go around a switchback, cross an open space, and approach a body of frozen water, at about the time I'm thinking to myself that just because something traditionally is frozen at this time of year does not mean, in this age of melting permafrost in the Interior and the western Arctic strongly manifesting some of the side effects of climate change, that it is actually frozen now.
We drive out onto the ice, and you can hear the ice falling apart under the front wheels. I turn to the woman driving and tell her to back up, which she does. We're safe.
All of the sudden (well, it's a dream) there are these two little old ladies standing on another section of the ice, and it's like a gully and there's a road on the other side, and one of the old ladies suddenly falls through the ice as the bits breaking up because of our car reach her position. So, I leap out of the car and run on the magically-refrozen ice over there, and the ladies are suddenly a foot tall, and I grab the one that hasn't fallen yet, and the other one (the one in the red wool coat and matching hat) has dragged herself out of the water. Dragged isn't the right word. Explosive levitation would be better.
Now, aside from the sudden transformation of these ladies into Lilliputians, here's the bizarre part: there's
mtreiten on the far side of that gully plus road from me, on the other side of a convoy truck or something, and he's in fatigues, might even be armed, and he leans to one side to look around the back of the truck and looks at me, like he's surprised I'm there. And I don't see why he should be, because it's *my* dream. If anyone would be there, it should be me.Bam, we're in like a garden courtyard type thingy, and I'm talking on the phone, and there's
mtreiten, no longer in camo, waiting for me to get off the phone, only he thinks I'm giving a radio interview about the anthology, but I'm actually giving a radio interview about the rescue of the little old lady, who I didn't really do much for, but it gets described as a rescue nontheless.And when I get off the phone, I get a nice, long, comforting hug as a reward for my good deed. Which was just what I wanted.