So… another dream sequence… Wow. (see Tylenol LSD Flashback post http://hotmessmom.com/?p=494 for more insight into my redonk subconscious)
In the mountains with a bunch of people. I think I worked with them. Maybe. There was a beach. Right at the side of the mountain. We had to share rooms, and somehow I was sharing with someone from a different company. Don’t remember much about the middle of the dream…but then it was time to go.. There was a guy… he wasn’t Elvis, but he was some big rock star (?) and he was telling me the “secret way” to get down the mountain. To the best of my memory it went a little something like this:
You have to go up before you go down. Go to the end of the drive and take a left instead of a right. See that snow covered peak up there? The road will tak you there. Last time I was there, a sea turtle caught a huge wave and surfed it’s way down the entire mountain. It was rad. You must wear blue. Do you have a blue shirt? I can lend you one if you want. If you wear blue, then once you pass the peak there is a road on the right. If you are not wearing blue, you will not be able to turn onto it. So wear blue. And turn. It’s where the Muppets live. It’s my favorite place in the world. Some people think it’s childish, but I love it and they are really cool puppets. But they are independant. People think they have strings or hands helping them function. They do not. They are just like people. Except they’re puppets.
So, there’s that. I cannot even begin to delve into what the F* goes on in my subconscious…….
I’m in New Orleans with a lot of friends. A lot. Maybe 30 or 50. And we go to church. At St. Pius (which is a real church, and small by New Orleans Catholic Church standards). And before mass starts, the alter boys are walking up and down the aisles with trays selling canned beer. ( like at a basketball game). My friends were clearly impressed. And bought beer. Lots of it. But wanted to know why we had to drink beer in a can. I explained that you cannot have glass in church. Church has the same rule as a pool. No glass. “Ahhhh…” Made perfect sense to all.
In the back of the church was a snack bar. They sold Hurricanes and Beignets. But they closed as soon as mass was starting. (The lights in the church flickered on and off to give a 5 minute warning that mass was going to start, like at the theatre.) Mass was beginning, but I couldn’t find my Hurricane and apparently needed one. So I tried to sneak to the back of the church and into the snack bar to get one. But to get there, I had to pass the pew that my mom and my aunt were sitting in. I thought they would dissaprove of me needing a Hurricane when I could have just gotten a beer like everyone else. So I slunk on the floor in front of their pew. Upon my arrival at the snack bar, the doors were closing. I put my foot in the door to hold it open (like cops do on TV when they want to talk to a perp) and begged the nice church-snackbar ladies to please please please sell me a hurricane. Quickly. They obliged. Then I slunk back across the floor with my Hurricane (in a plastic bottle.. NO GLASS IN CHURCH!) and made it back to my seat.
That’s all I remember. No French Quarter. No good restaurants. No bands and dancing with my 50 friends in New Orleans. Just church and booze. WTF?
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