The Dream of December 2-3

Things start out normal enough, but then there are some things that are just weird, and some things that are a bit... well, I won't get too graphic. Then there are a couple of things so weird I still, even as I write this, can't decide whether to include them or not.


OK. Once again the upcoming PT trip rears it's lovely head and this time things started out in the area I lived in between ages two and eleven. It was dark and Kit and I were waiting for the airport coach to arrive. I'm not sure what happened after we saw the bus arrive but then we were on this huge cruise ship, probably a lot like the one we'll be going on in March. Anyway, Beppo and Linnéa had joined us now, and why they were there I have no idea since this probably was a music cruise and we don't really listen to the same music.
I was off doing my own thing when I somehow ended up in this room that some people were staying in. It looked nothing like the real rooms on these ships, they had a really big living room - with a bath tub in one corner - and a really big bedroom next to it. The people staying there were some male musicians, their kids and these two girls who were their assistants (yes, they really were assistants and nothing else, though I have no idea why these guys needed them). One of the guys was supposedly French, though he had this really odd name that he actually had to write down for me to be able to learn it. One first name, two last names. He was living in India, though clearly not Indian, he had long, black hair in a pony tail, and it was quite curly. I'd say he was about 35-40 years old and judging by the teeth he was British (pardon my dental humour, but his teeth were not... bad, but certainly he didn't have that store-bought Hollywood smile), and he had a son who was about nine and had blond hair (and spoke British English). I remember that he was a widower (the man, not the boy), but I don't think he ever really told me, somehow I found out though. So me and French-British-Indian guy got on really well and then I left when it got really late.
Now, here some weird stuff comes in. Somehow, I know there was an earthquake. I think some of the interiors of the boat took some damage, but no one talked about it and everything else was fine. And I never made it back to our room because I met this man on the stairs going down who told me that Beppo had gotten really drunk and vomited on Kit's clothes and she was now washing them in the toilet. So I figured "fuck this" and headed back up to look for my Frenchman. And I found him sitting at a table not far from his room, playing poker. When I showed up he excused himself and we went to his rooms. The others were sleeping in the bed room and there were these windows between the two rooms that had blinds in them, blinds that were closed. And we sat there talking about his work, he was a session guitarist, when he said that he was playing Mejeriet with R.E.M soon. Mejeriet is, by the way, a venue in Lund that I've never been to and that is much too small for R.E.M, a band I don't really like. We agree that we should meet up at that gig and we keep talking. He tries to teach me how to pronounce his name - not that it was a great success - and then... well. There was some making out and removal of clothing. Aaaand then (here be one of the parts so weird that you're all going to think I'm deranged), for some reason, I was leaning over the bath tub and he was rinsing my hair, as if I'd had schampoo in it or something (which I hadn't). After this, I was in the bath tub and he was sitting next to it and we were kissing when I realised that the other people staying in that room
were watching us through the window. They were smiling. Not in a perverted way but more like "aww, our friend has finally found a girl". He got up to go in there and tell them to bugger off, or something, and I grabbed a towel and got out of the tub. My bra was on a table right next to the tub, except when I looked now there were ten bras, or something like that. I started looking for the one I felt sure I'd been wearing - because all of the other ones looked like other bras of mine. Thinking I must have remembered wrong I picked one up, and it was a 95 D (yup, European sizes, live with it) which is too big for me. Then I picked up another one which was "90A - for men" and I remember thinking "wtf???" in the dream before I put it back down and found the one I'd been wearing.
When I was dressed I felt a bit embarrassed and decided to head back to my room for some serious girl talk with Linnéa, who is really good at that stuff. But she's packing and says she has to go catch a train (apparently we're no longer on a ship, but at a hotel or something) to get home.* She says that she could ride with her parents in their car and leave thirty minutes later but that a car ride was probably the last thing her stomach flu needed. And then my mobile alarm clock went off and woke me up.

*As I typed this I had a recollection of a dream I must've had like six months ago where I was at this railway station that wasn't huge or anything, but had... Instead of tunnels running under the tracks that people could use to get to the platforms they had huge steel constructions with stairs and stuff to walk around. And it was dark out but this place was really well lit. I might have been chased by someone, because later in the same dream I remember being on a train, trying to run and hide from someone. Strange how thinking of some dreams brings back memories of other ones, isn't it?


So, that was my weird dream. The rinsing out my hair and bra for men was... well, weird. But I still maintain that Kit's dream that featured Peter Hammill speaking Swedish in a Scanian accent was weirder. I haven't dreamt about Peter Hammill for a long time. I hope I will soon. And I really hope that he's got his normal language and accent.
Though, at least my Frenchman was quite attractive. That's something, I guess.