dream # 9,543

just woke up from a very real, yet surreal dream.

high school reunion. 10-yr (which i skipped in real life... probably for the reasons i'll mention below)..

gym. with bleachers. no music, booze or schmoozing.

gym. with bleachers. and teachers. and classmates. but i can't find my friends. we're all sitting around the bleachers with random articles. some girls have.... wow. just occured to me. there were no boys. except the teachers. ok. bizarre. anyway, some girls have barbies, some have scarves. one girl has ratty tennis shoes, that belong in a sneaker toss.

and flande. female gym teacher built like a german brick. flande says ok. what are we gonna do? and NO ONE has ideas. so we all start talking. and we're taking a localized poll (in my bleachers) of who's still 29, and who's 30. so, nerd that i am, i suggest that we all go down to the gym floor, and divide everyone in half. north end is 29 or younger. south end is 30 or older. sure... mumble mumble. flande hears, and announces that's what we're doing.

so on the way down the bleachers, i get met by mr. phelps (what did he teach, anyway? geography, driver's ed, politics?) he comes down, huge grin, and gets on my side of the line (29 and younger) and hands me a pink ribbon, that has printed on it: "for completion of high-octane physics course" yeah. that look on your face. the confused amused look, i had that on in my dream. so then this other teacher, short, squirmy, kinda skeezy, comes over and gives me a big hug. a tight hug. a groping hug. i don't even know this guy. and he says "oh! so good to see you! been so long!" so i squirm free, smile politely, and say i'm wanted near the middle of the gym.

i get there. and there's me, flande, my sister liz (who graduated 2 years before me), and 9 other girls. the misfits, nerds, etc. everyone else had decided they had more important things to do than this... which, granted. it was a dumb activity. but we coulda made it fun. we could've lined up in the shape of a penis and taken an aerial shot. haha.

anyway, liz and i decide it's time to bail, so we go get in my car. but she's in the passenger seat, and i'm in the backseat (situating my physics ribbon, given to me by my driver's ed teacher, so proudly in my back window), and the car starts. and liz thinks it's a brilliant idea to put it in drive. while no-one's in the driver's seat!

we rear-end someone.

but only after liz spending 32 seconds giggling and steering, half-assed, i might add, and 32 seconds of me, head first, down by the petals, ass over the shoulders of the seat, feet kicking wildly, bumping my newly displayed ribbon of imaginary skills.

so we get out of the car, and all of a sudden, there's a traffic cop. female, short, orange-hair. riding one of those hover-scooter thingies that marvin the martian's planet-dweller's rides (which, i suppose, would make them martians?)

and she tells us that don't we know that cars are illegal?

and hands us two overhead sheets. clear plastic sheets which, let's face it, are NOT going to cover our asses. and we're supposed to sit on this, feet forward, and SCOOT along the ground. crazy bitch.

but we do it. and we go FAST! i got mine up to 40 miles an hour (put grease on the bottom... lard, cause i saw them adding water to lard fires on mythbusters last night... and lard is powerful). so i larded mine up, but when i got to my destination, which was a job interview, next door to a hospital, where the overhead superhighway ended, i got up, and the sheet of plastic had morphed (no doubt due to the friction of riding it so fast) into a tiny little golden reeces pb cup wrapper. which, honestly, seriously. i don't know how my butt stayed on it.

and i got to the interview and walked into the office, and then my real-life house heater kicked on, making it a little too uncomfortable in my room to remain sleeping.

i'm gonna have to close that vent a little more. i can't have something as benign a heat interrupting these massively entertaining dreams i have.

;)