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3rdragonI was dreaming a lot when I first got here, but not so much lately. (Read "lately" to mean: for the past month and a half, since I started taking bookbinding classes that start at 8:30am and are a twenty minute walk away. Those tend to cut into sleep time, even if I never show up when they start.) It's occurred to me that I'm not getting quite enough sleep in Spain. (probably no less than I usually do at Smith, but less than I got all last summer. But what are you going to do when supper may not end until 10:30 or 11 at night and the alarm rings at 7:15 on the early mornings?) It's not so much that I'm chronically sleep deprived here, but more that I don't wake up at the right point in my sleep cycle to remember dreams.
But I remember my dream from last night. I'm not sure why. Maybe it took me long enough to fall asleep that I was still back in the previous sleep cycle when the alarm rang. Anyway.
I dreamed that I was some sort of border guard protecting the something or other from the Wild Waste. I have the impression that this was a sort of females-only organization, but not militantly so, because Becky's boyfriend showed up at some point and we sent him off to scout. (Becky, by the way, is a year younger than me and was on my field hockey team in highschool. She's the youngest daughter of an Old Philadelphia Family, and, what was more relevant to the team, the newest instalment in the B-family field hockey dynasty of awesomeness. (Her older sister was one of the star players when I was in ninth grade. And I never met her older-older sister, but she was apparently really good, too.) But I'm rambling. The point of this parenthesis is that she was there.)
My dad's house was apparently on the edge of The Wilderness. I think it was the back yard that was wilderness. Though we were worried about attackers getting around to the front, so maybe they came from the side of the house. Also, our outpost had been overrun at some point in the past, and I was either the senior officer of the new group or the only person from the old group who hadn't been around when they'd been defeated before. But things had been fixed up since then, so we weren't too worried. At any rate, I was some older than everyone else (some older than I am now, too, I think. Also, someone else.)
We were expecting an attack from the Wild Beasts of the Wilderness, who had been moving our way, and were like a cross between angry walruses and those creatures from that story we read in SpecFic. (which story? Um . . . Moodle tells me "On the Last Afternoon." (Also, my documentation glossary is up on the Moodle front page! I know that it's been that way for a while, but it makes me happy every time I see it. Which isn't often, since I've had occasion to visit [Smith] Moodle something like all of three times while in Spain (I did find the UCO Moodle once, but it was boring because I didn't have any classes there), but hey.)) Anyway, those creatures. Only not quite so big and destructive, and more interested in killing people than in plowing through buildings. Also, less difficult to kill.) Only, they weren't attacking. We didn't really know why, because we were pretty sure they were out there, but after I double-checked to make sure that all of the doors and windows were secure (the front inside door seemed to be made of solid wood, rather than having 12 or 15 windows; good thing, too), we hung out in thedining room base of operations and told stories and talked. We'd sent Becky's boyfriend out to scout, and there wasn't really anything else to do. It wasn't as if we were going to go pick a fight with the Creatures From the Waste if they decided to just go back to the Waste and leave us alone.
And then we heard Becky's boyfriend calling her name, so she climbed up on the table and opened the window (I don't think that set of windows opens, actually, but hey) to discover that her boyfriend was being chased by the Beasts From the Waste. Which turned out to be bears instead of walruses. She pulled out her bow and tried shooting at them, but they kept going behind the neighbors' bush and she couldn't get a clear shot.
So she went out the back door, and I stood at the door to guard the entrance while she generally made herself annoying to the bears and lured them away from her boyfriend, who, I now noticed, was Jonathan. (Jonathan, for those of you following along at home, is the guy who, when I met him, my first thought was not hello or any of my usual meeting-people first thoughts, but rather, Wow, I now have a new candidate for "most stereotypically gay man I have ever met." But apparently he was now Becky's boyfriend. I'd met the boyfriend earlier in the dream, when he'd first shown up, and I'm pretty sure that he was not Jonathan at that point. But now he was. Possibly he changed identities when the walrus-creatures became bears.) At any rate, Becky had successfully lured them away from him. He was looking rather bedraggled at this point, and I was worried for a moment that he was going to faint now that the immediate need to run away from bears had passed. But he pulled himself together and started shambling over to the porch.
Only, at this point, Baby Bear stopped following the other four and decided to investigate the porch. I waved Jonathan towards the front of the house, where the others could let him in, and realized that Papa Bear was following Baby Bear. I didn't manage to get the door shut in time, and, discovering that I had decided to guard the door with no weapons, held Baby Bear off with my hands. I couldn't quite reach the shovels and pointy objects hanging in the enclosed part of the back porch. I yelled for help, hoping that the others would show up so we could close the door before we had to fend off Papa Bear, too, and my alarm went off.
It occurred to me shortly afterwards that it's entirely possible that my father's porch would fall down if two bears and a person stood on it, and I hoped that the enclosed part, where I was standing, was slightly more stable. (I've mentioned to him that the supports are rotting. I'm not sure if he hasn't noticed how bad it is, or if he just hasn't gotten around to doing anything about it yet (as of August).)
So that was my dream last night, told in an even-more-rambling-than-usual style. I should probably put it behind a cut, shouldn't I?
But I remember my dream from last night. I'm not sure why. Maybe it took me long enough to fall asleep that I was still back in the previous sleep cycle when the alarm rang. Anyway.
I dreamed that I was some sort of border guard protecting the something or other from the Wild Waste. I have the impression that this was a sort of females-only organization, but not militantly so, because Becky's boyfriend showed up at some point and we sent him off to scout. (Becky, by the way, is a year younger than me and was on my field hockey team in highschool. She's the youngest daughter of an Old Philadelphia Family, and, what was more relevant to the team, the newest instalment in the B-family field hockey dynasty of awesomeness. (Her older sister was one of the star players when I was in ninth grade. And I never met her older-older sister, but she was apparently really good, too.) But I'm rambling. The point of this parenthesis is that she was there.)
My dad's house was apparently on the edge of The Wilderness. I think it was the back yard that was wilderness. Though we were worried about attackers getting around to the front, so maybe they came from the side of the house. Also, our outpost had been overrun at some point in the past, and I was either the senior officer of the new group or the only person from the old group who hadn't been around when they'd been defeated before. But things had been fixed up since then, so we weren't too worried. At any rate, I was some older than everyone else (some older than I am now, too, I think. Also, someone else.)
We were expecting an attack from the Wild Beasts of the Wilderness, who had been moving our way, and were like a cross between angry walruses and those creatures from that story we read in SpecFic. (which story? Um . . . Moodle tells me "On the Last Afternoon." (Also, my documentation glossary is up on the Moodle front page! I know that it's been that way for a while, but it makes me happy every time I see it. Which isn't often, since I've had occasion to visit [Smith] Moodle something like all of three times while in Spain (I did find the UCO Moodle once, but it was boring because I didn't have any classes there), but hey.)) Anyway, those creatures. Only not quite so big and destructive, and more interested in killing people than in plowing through buildings. Also, less difficult to kill.) Only, they weren't attacking. We didn't really know why, because we were pretty sure they were out there, but after I double-checked to make sure that all of the doors and windows were secure (the front inside door seemed to be made of solid wood, rather than having 12 or 15 windows; good thing, too), we hung out in the
And then we heard Becky's boyfriend calling her name, so she climbed up on the table and opened the window (I don't think that set of windows opens, actually, but hey) to discover that her boyfriend was being chased by the Beasts From the Waste. Which turned out to be bears instead of walruses. She pulled out her bow and tried shooting at them, but they kept going behind the neighbors' bush and she couldn't get a clear shot.
So she went out the back door, and I stood at the door to guard the entrance while she generally made herself annoying to the bears and lured them away from her boyfriend, who, I now noticed, was Jonathan. (Jonathan, for those of you following along at home, is the guy who, when I met him, my first thought was not hello or any of my usual meeting-people first thoughts, but rather, Wow, I now have a new candidate for "most stereotypically gay man I have ever met." But apparently he was now Becky's boyfriend. I'd met the boyfriend earlier in the dream, when he'd first shown up, and I'm pretty sure that he was not Jonathan at that point. But now he was. Possibly he changed identities when the walrus-creatures became bears.) At any rate, Becky had successfully lured them away from him. He was looking rather bedraggled at this point, and I was worried for a moment that he was going to faint now that the immediate need to run away from bears had passed. But he pulled himself together and started shambling over to the porch.
Only, at this point, Baby Bear stopped following the other four and decided to investigate the porch. I waved Jonathan towards the front of the house, where the others could let him in, and realized that Papa Bear was following Baby Bear. I didn't manage to get the door shut in time, and, discovering that I had decided to guard the door with no weapons, held Baby Bear off with my hands. I couldn't quite reach the shovels and pointy objects hanging in the enclosed part of the back porch. I yelled for help, hoping that the others would show up so we could close the door before we had to fend off Papa Bear, too, and my alarm went off.
It occurred to me shortly afterwards that it's entirely possible that my father's porch would fall down if two bears and a person stood on it, and I hoped that the enclosed part, where I was standing, was slightly more stable. (I've mentioned to him that the supports are rotting. I'm not sure if he hasn't noticed how bad it is, or if he just hasn't gotten around to doing anything about it yet (as of August).)
So that was my dream last night, told in an even-more-rambling-than-usual style. I should probably put it behind a cut, shouldn't I?
