The Dream of September 24-25

In this dream I was talking to some exchange students, French guys. And they were talking about new exchange students coming in from France the next day. I offered to drive to the airport and pick them up. What a brilliant idea! It's not like I have a driver's license or a car... But for some reason I had my mum's old car in the dream, a 1990 Ford Fiesta (or Death Trap, whichever name you prefer).
Before I drove to the airport I ended up at this kid's birthday party. The only people there were me, the kid's mum and some bloke she was dating or something, and an whole bunch of kids. For some reason the potential step-father bought the kid a keyboard and the kid was pressing all the weid buttons he could find ending up with all sorts of horrible rhythms and then of course he couldn't play at all. The man who gave it to him was half-heartedly trying to play an actual melody at the same time, but failed to do so. Then he looked up at me, our eyes met and he gave me this odd look.

The dream shifts.
Now it's time to go to the airport, I get in the car and head for Skavsta, whick is about 80 minutes, or so, by car. For some reason, probably fear of having to park next to other cars and not managing that, I find a deserted parking lot a little further away from the airport. When I get out of the car I know exactly which way to go to get to Skavsta Airport. But then I get to this area enclosed by mountains, where there seems to be a camp of some sort. Teenagers, no doubt on the run from their families, seem to be living here and I just know they kill outsiders (I think I'm sort of familiar with them and their story). So I do my best to try to look a few years younger than I actually am and... well, more sulky than I actually am too. Somehow I make it through the camp.
Then I hear on the radio, which is odd since I didn't have one with me, that police have heard reports of a non-licensed driver in the area and are on the lookout, putting up some roadblocks and stuff. Now, the police in this province DO have far too much time on their hands, but this seems a bit extreme. And how did they know? I hadn't run into any trouble at all so far, so how on earth they knew I didn't have a license I have no idea. But I'm too scared to go to the airport, so I just head into the neighbouring town - Nyköping - instead. It looked just like the neighbourhood I lived in when I was a kid. And I've been to Nyköping a couple of times and I know what it looks like in real life.
I walk around there a little bit before deciding to head back home. The road blocks have been removed and I set off. The odd thing is, while I'm on the right road home, I get to this off-ramp with a roundabout that's nowhere near where I was, it's actually right where my mum lives - and that's southwest of my uni town, whereas I was norteast of my uni town in this dream. For some reason I pull off the motorway, knowing full well that it's the wrong way to go. But when I try to get back on it I end up on this tiny, tiny road right next to it. It ends by this museum, or something, which is right by a tube station. We most definitely do not have an underground system in either of the three towns I've been in during the course of this dream. I check out the old museum, which is full of lamps, and see two middle-aged men who look... well, progressive. As I always do when I see people like that I thought "cool, I wonder if they like prog?" and then kept looking at the old lamps. When I left out the front door there was this old lady sweeping up, and I know we talked, but I can not remember about what.
After this I'm on the phone with my mum. To make sure she doesn't suspect me of having the car I tell her I'm slightly tipsy. Just that, no story, nothing that makes sense - I'm just a bit tipsy. Suddenly I realise that I'm not by the car, but at the tube station. I sigh and sit down on the stairs by the platform and the two potenitally progressive men are there. So I ask them if they know how I get to the place I parked my car from there, but apparently they've heard me tell my mum that I was tipsy so the one with the long hair (one had long hair, one was bald) starts telling me how bad it is to drink and drive... ...using Van der Graaf Generator metaphors. At least now I knew they were prog fans. I think I left at this point, but I don't know where I went or what happened next.
At some point I woke up and that was that.



(then I checked MSN and found the following message from my friend Beppo: "Karin calls on the mobile, but the other end is silent when I answer... I check the time and discover that it's a full hour until she normally wakes up and realise that she's probably sleeping ON her mobile and hit the phone book by mistake")


That was true, btw. I must have switched off the alarm clock and fallen asleep on the phone. I haven't dared to check to see if I called anyone else yet, but probably not as Beppo's number was the last one I called before this incident. And to redial the last number called you only need to press the "dial" key twice on my phone.
I'm tired, and the weather sucks today. Last night, at 4 30 (in the morning) I chased this rather large wasp around my room, trying to kill it. I ended up shutting the groggy-looking beast in a cupboard, I hope he's died in there during the night. Otherwise he'll be angry and annoyed when I open.
DUN-DUN-DUUUUUN!