Saturday, April 24, 2004
everybody is kung fu fighting
so i'm in the old west long beach neighborhood that we lived in from about third grade on through the middle of seventh, only we don't live in my old house. we're living down the street in another house where an old lady whose grandson (my age) used to visit lived. next door there's the same pink/salmon three unit triplex structure that i remember, but a different family lives there too, but they're family friends or something like that. anyway, the parents are going on some kind of trip for a day or two, so we're supposed to watch the two kids (elementary school age).
i'm walking out to my car about to take them somewhere that afternoon when these two doods dressed in black suits (very corporate espionage-like) approach me and start asking all these questions about the parents (where are they, why did they leave, how long will they be gone?) and for some reason i freely oblige them with truthful answers, though i'm quite apprehensive of their veiled, yet threatening demeanor. anyway, they discuss amongst themselves that it's really suspicious that dad has decided to skip town this very day, and they better grab the kids for negotiation leverage, or something to that effect.
i race inside the front door ahead of them and lock the door, moms is in the kitchen chopping away at something and doesn't react to close the side door as i'm yelling. i run to the kitchen side door and slam it shut just as one of the bad guys is sticking his hand in, so it doesn't close all the way, and i keep slamming the door hoping he'll pull his hand away in pain (why is it not happening?). for whatever reason, this is when i realize the inside of the house is the same as the one in durham where i lived last year....it doesn't belong to the house on w. mountain view st, but i have more pressing items on my agenda, so moving on. agent looking dood finally fights his way into the kitchen, but being where we are, i grab two handy pieces of cutlery and proceed to deliver a serious beatdown, bourne identity style. i dont know what happened to the other shady character, maybe he got scared and ran away? yes, i, like nate james, am a badass.
typical guy dream maybe? it's interesting how so many things that aren't related to each other at all (other than the fact that they're part of my various life experiences) all found their way into a single dream, and my mind was able to weave everything into a story that made sense, sort of. no real point to this. it's the first dream i've remembered in a long time, so...yeh. maybe i can make a movie out of it one day, ha!
symphonic melodies: the thrills - big sur
brain eats: emails, lots of emails
so i'm in the old west long beach neighborhood that we lived in from about third grade on through the middle of seventh, only we don't live in my old house. we're living down the street in another house where an old lady whose grandson (my age) used to visit lived. next door there's the same pink/salmon three unit triplex structure that i remember, but a different family lives there too, but they're family friends or something like that. anyway, the parents are going on some kind of trip for a day or two, so we're supposed to watch the two kids (elementary school age).
i'm walking out to my car about to take them somewhere that afternoon when these two doods dressed in black suits (very corporate espionage-like) approach me and start asking all these questions about the parents (where are they, why did they leave, how long will they be gone?) and for some reason i freely oblige them with truthful answers, though i'm quite apprehensive of their veiled, yet threatening demeanor. anyway, they discuss amongst themselves that it's really suspicious that dad has decided to skip town this very day, and they better grab the kids for negotiation leverage, or something to that effect.
i race inside the front door ahead of them and lock the door, moms is in the kitchen chopping away at something and doesn't react to close the side door as i'm yelling. i run to the kitchen side door and slam it shut just as one of the bad guys is sticking his hand in, so it doesn't close all the way, and i keep slamming the door hoping he'll pull his hand away in pain (why is it not happening?). for whatever reason, this is when i realize the inside of the house is the same as the one in durham where i lived last year....it doesn't belong to the house on w. mountain view st, but i have more pressing items on my agenda, so moving on. agent looking dood finally fights his way into the kitchen, but being where we are, i grab two handy pieces of cutlery and proceed to deliver a serious beatdown, bourne identity style. i dont know what happened to the other shady character, maybe he got scared and ran away? yes, i, like nate james, am a badass.
typical guy dream maybe? it's interesting how so many things that aren't related to each other at all (other than the fact that they're part of my various life experiences) all found their way into a single dream, and my mind was able to weave everything into a story that made sense, sort of. no real point to this. it's the first dream i've remembered in a long time, so...yeh. maybe i can make a movie out of it one day, ha!
symphonic melodies: the thrills - big sur
brain eats: emails, lots of emails
