Redrum, being better, and dreams of suspension and house shootings

I think I'm getting better, since reading about kids' private jet flights with a bunch of food is actually making me hungry! I'm NOT going to test my body's reaction to spicy stuff again, so I'll take it easy and just have tomato basil soup. I'll see what happens if / when I need to have Pho on Friday: no #24 or hot sauce for me then, I'm guessing. On the flipside, I also have redrum. Thank goodness it didn't result in an incident like August 2005! Yay for good shower timing, too! But talk about a drain on your energy - I may just rest after this!


I had a weird dream, which can actually be blogged about! (the dream I had the other day could NOT be blogged about here, trust me) Henry showed up in the courtyard to pick me up for an Awana leaders outing. Some 51-year-old hobo named William (complete with salt-and-pepper beard) wanted to come along with us for the ride. We told him that he couldn't unless he deposited his trash into either the blue or yellow HUGE disposal units. Apparently, he couldn't do that since they contained a bunch of sentimental possessions. Henry and I looked at each other and discussed it - finally, we agreed to let him in.

We opened the windows against the discernible smell, and traveled to a suspension bridge. The blue supportive railings on the bridge weren't very steady, as Chrystal and Melia found out. I found that out too, but had to accept the help of our strange follower linking his arm through mine in order to get me off the bridge. (the other guys - whom I'd trust way more - were already helping the other girls) Then we all went to a picnic in a clearing, and asked the hobo why he'd come. He wanted to be around people who would accept him: fair enough, but we told him that he couldn't come back home with any of us since the cars were all full! (true enough, as some people had other things to do and the car arrangements were changed) We thought he seemed accepting of this, as he had no choice in the matter.

Then the location switched to a shootout in someone's house, much like 24. There were flickering red beams that scanned everyone in the house, and determined whether certain people would be allowed into certain interrogation rooms. A suspect's mother (Karen Bennett - looking like a female version of Nick Nolte under arrest) objected when she wasn't deemed worthy to watch her son being interrogated, but a black / mixed-race kid was. Jack Bauer tortured her just for being racist, haha. Eric M. showed up to help rescue me from this mayhem, and the beam found nothing wrong with him. We were caught in the gunfire against a white background when my dad (who had never shown himself up to this point in the dream) appeared in front of us, telling us to "RUN!"

Run we did, knowing that he was sacrificing himself in a hail of bullets from uniformed men. We encountered trouble with people guarding shelves full of clothes, but we managed to fly overhead and shoot them before they shot us. Then we spent a little too much time looking at the clothes and the weirdly-dated coins that had fallen from them (2140? 2018? 215 B.C.?), so Jack Bauer had to come to our rescue. He swooped us up and deposited us outside, along with our knapsacks and my blue Corona Extra hat. Eric looked inside his knapsack to discover an old lady and an old man in there whom he thought were dead! They rushed back in the house while we just split to safe haven; in this case, his car and then a faraway park where our friends were waiting for us. We told them what had happened, and spent some time remembering my dad. Afterwards, Megan C.'s baby (also named Megan) woke up and we all wanted to play with her. She asked the ladies whether she was doing right by baby Megan if she breast-fed her. Everyone seemed to agree, and this was where THAT dream ended! o_O

I have NO idea what triggered this one. Excessive thinking about Henry, 24, and Anita's upcoming baby? Haha, weird stuff!