Dreamland Theatre

For the past few months, I've been having very interesting dreams almost every night. It started when my parents were visiting in April. Being gracious hosts, we gave them our room and we slept in the basement/guest room. It is passably comfortable and we didn't have trouble sleeping or anything, but I think my sleeping mind knew I was in a different environment and went a little bit haywire. One night, for example, I dreamed that I ran a marathon with Willie Nelson.

The dreams continued after their visit, when we moved back into our bedroom. About a month ago, just before her birthday, I dreamt that I was at a masquerade party with my friend Jennie which featured all sorts of activities. I listened to a lecture about alternative energy sources and Jennie kept telling me the yoga/massage area was amazing. She wore a Regency style dress in a multi-coloured sari material and a paper mache mouse mask; I don't know what I was wearing because I couldn't find a mirror. I looked all over, but I couldn't find the toilet. Then a woman asked where we were parked because there was a monster at the party. I didn't believe her, as it was a masquerade party, after all, and I figured she had just seen someone weaing a monster mask. She seemed pretty adamant. I still couldn't find the toilet. It was weird, and then eventually I woke up.

Last week I dreamed that I bought some hand-knitted socks from my old friends and former co-workers Mayanna and Ashley at a craft fair. The socks were lavender, but had red and white stripes on the inside.

This morning I dreamed that I'd gone to visit my old friend Russell Brand (?!?) because he was getting married (?!?) and I'd taken my mom (?!?!?!?) with me. My mom got the guest room and I slept on the sofa, which was fine the first night - this was a really long dream - but the second night he had lots of noisy people over and I couldn't sleep. Then I was back at my house here in London, with Matthew and my mom and sister (and presumably my dad and brother-in-law, though I didn't see them). A baby pigeon flew into the house and the cats started chasing it. I got it away from them and carried it around to keep it safe. At some point, while sitting around a table on our patio, I realised that the pigeon had turned into a real baby, though it was still cooing like a dove. I decided I would keep her and that we'd call her Frankie.

So that was weird.