drizzeams
Woke up from a pleasant, but very trippy, sort of dream this morning.
Much improved from the dream I had Saturday night, in which I anxiously studied for a French test :( Dude, I don't even take French.
But the dream's meaning was obvious--I'd been feeling quite stressed out about all the work I have to do. I'm still feeling it, matter of fact,(SHIT SHIT SHIT, ESSAY FOR MY SEMINAR DUE TOMORROW) but I suppose my condition's improved, if this recent dream is any indicator:
I'm in a store looking at CDs. Maybe it's Princeton Record Exchange, who knows. I take a gander at the 90s music--looking for a Backstreet Boys, I think--and I eye some foreign band's CD. End of vignette.
Then I am alone on the beach, on a completely gorgeous day, (analysis--I spent most of yesterday staring out the window, longing for summer) when two dudes from, like, frickin Holland or something walk up to me. (analysis--last night I told Jackie about how I get the Netherlands, Denmark, Sweden, etc. confused) Here I don't remember what they look ike, only that they have weird-ass names like Veetvo and Sand (ahahaha). I think I proceed to chat them up, maybe. Maybe not. Maybe we just stare at each other (also, no idea if these were the same dudes on the CD cover?? It may have just been foreshadowing)
Next scene, I AM CHILLIN IN MY (RUTGERS) BED WITH, I BELIEVE, THE ONE NAMED SAND. It's night time, and he's drunk with sleep and I'm just like "hm?" observing him (ahahaha, but shit--do I not remember how I got there because I was roofied? That's a prob. But let's go with no, that was not the case, since my reaction's not "AHH, WHY AM I HERE?") Anyway, enough moonlight is coming in from the window, so I have an idea what he looks like. I very well suppose he's attractive, with (wavy? or tousled?) flaxen hair and Hugh Dancy-like features (thank you, Kaye's background, for making this fab. dream possible?).
Neither of us says anything. And we start mackin'.
The dream should have ended there, but instead there's this funky final scene: I am a princess. I am at a ball, and strange-Euro-hottie Sand is pissed at me because I haven't talked to him, even though he wants to marry me. I'm all, PFSH, he just wants mah goodies cuz I'm a princess. Er, that is, I so doubt he really loves me. And, um, that's the end.
It's not a terribly unhappy ending because I am, after all, a princess, and while Sand was cute and all, I didn't seem that interested in him. And how interested could I be in a dude from Holland named Sand? ...I would, however, be all for another dream starring him.
:)