Sooo, 'nother dream
This one doesn't start out very clearly, but it's influenced by Battlestar Galactica, the classic series. Starbuck (played by Dirk Benedict) has somehow been separated from the Galactica, and is being hunted by the Cylons, while Adama (Lorne Greene) is at someone's house. I'm at a dinner at the house of my mother's friend, and a couple of people I know are there. The lady of the house hands me a garbage bag that has a few odds and ends in it, and I don't know what she wants me to do with it, or why she's throwing away perfectly good stuff. I decide to keep the stuff that's in the bag, and am looking for an opportunity to go to Mom's car and leave it there. I hear someone playing Led Zeppelin's "Friends" from the III album, but they're playing it too fast. I poke my head in the room and ask them to play it slower, to feel the power behind the song, and let the notes ring out. At one point, our friend Kaz hands me a mandolin. I think it's a banjo, and I ask him what he wants me to do with it, because I don't play it. He doesn't answer me, and I find a seat to try to figure out how to play the thing. The lady of the house asks me why the trash bag she gave me is looped around my belt. I look down and it isn't, but I'm sitting on it. I get up and once more look for a way to get to Mom's car.
I'm in the kitchen scraping dishes and loading them into the sink to be washed. I'm impressed by the controls for the kitchen faucet--apparently, the spray attachment has a "Fill" setting, allowing it to use hot water to fill the sink. I walk back to the dining room, the favor for the family of the house apparently done, but before I get there, I hear the man of the house saying grace. I stop and bow my head and prepare to go eat.
There is a large TV in the living room, and a large mattress of some kind in front of it. Sarah Palin is there, and she's pregnant. Apparently, somebody won a promotional prize and the vice-president (I guess in the dream, she won) gets to spend an evening with you. I go over, and she invites me to recline on the large mattress and watch TV with her. She's smaller than I expected, apparently about five feet. She puts an arm around me, and I do likewise, and we watch TV. There are things going on that I don't understand--apparently we are watching a giant octopus attack an oil rig or something--and we talk. She tells me the movie is about something that happened between Mississippi and Alabama in the 1950's. I am amazed at how much she knows and I ask her to tell me more, saying, "I am often appalled at my own lack of knowledge of contemporary history." I don't remember what she tells me, but the movie is over soon, and she gets up to go. I'm having difficulty standing, and as I try to get up, I see that there was a TV behind us, and the credits for another program are running. I catch a piece of text that says something like, "The book on which this movie was based had a real bummer for an ending, so don't read it if you don't want to be disappointed." Palin tells me that it was nice to meet me and she's sure I will get where I want to go in life, and I plan to call Mom and tell her that I got to cuddle with the Vice-President, and she was adorable.
I get up and I say, "Madam Vice-President, it was an honor to cuddle in front of the television with you," and she smiles politely but warmly. I also remark that she's smaller than I expected, and more "adowwable!" I then ask her when she's due, and she says, "I don't know." I ask her when she kindled, and she says that she doesn't know that either, because of the "black taxes" that govern whether she can get an ultrasound. I ask her to explain this, because I have never heard of it, and she does, leading me through what appears to be a sports bar. I see one of her sons, about ten years old, and though smaller than she is, he looks bigger, and he seems to expect to be carried. I think that it won't be long before he can carry her.
I see outside there's some kind of equipment, scaffolding or something, and the outside looks deserted, but inside the sports bar is full of life. I know the bartenders, and I've lost sight of Sarah Palin, but I'm waiting at the bar because I want to escort her out. One of the bartenders tells me he saw me with her, and I say, "Yeah, I tell you what: If I could find a woman like her, but unmarried and not pregnant, I wouldn't be single." I wave at two other bartenders (there appear to be five) who leave their stations for a moment, but I tell them that I don't need a drink, I was just saying hi.
When I don't find Vice-President Palin, I believe that she's left, so I decide to go to the bathroom. I find two bathroom doors in an alcove, and I'm confused; first by the fact that a movie advertising cut-out for a slasher film is stuffed in the area between the doors, blocking my access; secondly, because the doors are labeled "MEN" and "Park Children." What are park children? I wonder. I remove the cardboard figure and go in the door marked "MEN."
The stall immediately to my right is missing a wall partition. I go on, looking for a serviceable stall. One wall seems to have been knocked out of each, and the toilets seem to have been left in a state of disuse, as they are filled with urine and soggy toilet paper. As I search deeper and deeper into the bathroom for a stall that looks serviceable, it occurs to me that I'm just going into a maze of broken stalls and I'm not going to find a place to pee here.
And then I wake up, still looking forward to calling Mom and telling her that I got to cuddle with the Vice-President. I love my weird dreams.