lastnite: a dream journal

Estate sale

It was a busy Friday night for dreaming (I didn't have to get up early, but here it is 8:57 am and I'm already awake). Last night, I woke up at 4:30 am and thought to myself, "What a complicated dream. I wasn't even involved." I don't know what the dream was, but I am amused at my pseudo "It's not my department" kind of apathy.

I went to a very neat estate sale, but Beck was not my cashier this time. I was doing the usual--trying to figure out the previous owners of the merchandise--and it was fairly complicated. I got intrigued by a number of items: a multi-colored woven afghan, the Left Behind DVD (which was still $10, so I left it behind-hah! Sorry.), and several sequined shirts. One was all about time and had a big Father Time on the left sleeve, a clock with moveable arms on the left breast, a cursive "Groundhog Day" and red sequin stripes on the right side, and even more on the back. There was also a polyester shirt, mostly white, with old illustrations of Siamese kittens. The pictures were all on the sleeves though, so I passed on it. The shirts were $3.00-$4.00, so they weren't too bad, but I'm a cheap girl, even in my dreams. In the kitchen were some wonderful baby blue Fiesta dining sets and a wetbar with a monkey on it. It was Monkey from Dexter's Lab, and he was on the cabinet doors. For some reason, I knew I was on vacation or something and couldn't bring anything big back home with me, not even the blanket.

Dad and I were wandering around misc. large city at 8:00 a.m. on a Sunday. I tried to tell him that nothing would be open, but we went into a Kinko's anyway. We ended up just bringing Mom back a McDonald's Coke.

Mom and I were in a field behind a farmhouse, and she was telling me her dream. As she described it, it happened. Ten white children ran towards us, then immediately to the left, and then hid. When they stood up, they were all black slave children in rags. They again ran towards us and disappeared as they got nearer. Then Mom told me about a sculpture she had seen made out of straw that was clearly a Texan woman. She was about eight feet tall and had real breast implants under her straw shirt. She had a cowboy hat on a pole behind her, so she could appear to wear it, but it wouldn't muss her hair. Then the slave kids were back, and we all ran through the farmhouse, slamming doors behind house, as we ran to the street. It was almost like a time travel thing, where the house served as a gateway from rural to urban. In the house, which we were only in for just a second, I worried about someone yelling at us, and one of the kids said, "They always yell at us. You stop listening after a while."