Meeting with the Queen, my ex and an elephant

One of my exes got a job at Canada Steamship Lines. I found out because I was walking past their offices (which are near where I work) and saw him and some other people looking out the window. Then, later, a friend confirmed that he was working there.

Then I was in a meeting room at Canada Steamship Lines. It was a kind of salon -- very Victorian, like a room at the British Museum where world explorers met.

I was... scantily dressed, lounging around in this room reading anthropology coffee table books. People began to gather in the room. The queen arrived. Not Queen Elizabeth, but maybe Queen Victoria. She was leading a geriatric pet elephant. Apparently, the elephant went everywhere with her. She was a little bit dotty, but was still an essential presence at the meetings.

Then my ex arrived in the meeting, along with some other people. I tried to blend in and not be noticed. But it was difficult.

Me and my platypus buddy

I dreamed that I had a pet duck-billed platypus that I carried around in my arms.

Blind men

A long and detailed dream last night.
It started with a visit to my friend's house in Geneva. He lived in a big rambling apartment. We talked. Somehow, we were on a worksite and there were some city workers taking measurements. But they seemed hesitant. We poked around at a doorway and found some very sophisticated wires. We figured they were looking for wiretaps. Alex realized he had information that could be useful. Suddenly we were in a spy movie. False information was transmitted by phone. The people who got the information died. Alex supplied the information to the right people. Suddenly we were all much older. I was an established photographer and, it seems, good with the ladies. Alex had been admitted into an old age home, but the nurses hated him so much they hid him in a back room and ignored him. Coming up to the front staircase of the old age home, the stairs were littered with women hoping to see some famous old man who was living out his last days there. I managed to get in by showing my camera. I learned that someone had given the old man a gift, but he was blind and wouldn't be able to see it. Everyone was sad about this. I remembered that Alex had the gift of being able to see with his hands. Maybe he could help out....I went to look for him... and woke up.

Happy dream: My favourite imaginary band of all time

I was in Calgary, and was scheduled to go back to Montreal. En route to somewhere... I stumble on this band playing an impromptu show in one of those characterless corporate alcoves next to an office tower.

I jump out of my bus, or taxi or whatever and join the small audience. The band is amazing -- these carnivaesque rock and roll people, playing music I can't remember clearly. They were a lot like one of my absolute favourite bands: Friendly Rich and the Lollipop People

Two lead singers stood on soapboxes, with their faces painted in grey and white, with scary, accentuated old man wrinkles. Behind them stood horn and accordian and guitair players, dressed in pinnochio marching band kitch.

When the song was over, a greyhound bus pulled up and the whole audience got onto it. They were taking us somewhere.... no one knew, no one cared. We were all having such a damn good time.

I remember thinking that I was supposed to be going somewhere. But I was too intrigued not to lose this trajectory.

The bus headed to the suburbs and ejected us all on a big green open space. The band danced and ahead of us, playing something spontaneous and ridiculous... from the circus. We all ran after them, waving our arms and encouraging them to keep playing. It was awesome...

When I mentioned my dream to J, he said it sounded a lot like the magical mystery tour. Perhaps.... but I was also watching Burning Man videos yesterday....

No more wine...

Kirsten announced at our annual post New Year's spa day, where we soak for a few hours with friends and then congregate around a few plates of hot and spicy food, while reviewing our new years resolutions from years past and making new ones for 2009, Kirsten announced grandly, and without prior consultation with her soul mate, the man with whom she shares a blog called wine and dreams, indeed this blog, this blog...Kirsten rolled up her tongue and said: I will stop drinking wine in 2009. I choked on a piece of spicy meat. What? So, of course, in solidarity, I have quit also. So we won't have many postings on the wine side of wine and dreams, this year, unless we break under the pressure. So far, so good. That was January 24th or so. No bottles have been cracked since. But we will certainly be breaking our vow in June, when we plan to get married again. That's right, we are going to tie the knot again on June 21st. Why not? is there anything in the rulebook that says you can't? It's kind of like getting a second mortgage with the same lender.

So many dreams, where to start?

Rather than tell you my dreams, and I have had many of them in the last little while, I will tell you Imogen's dream. A few days before, she had an accident with some (not very hot) macaroni and cheese. So this scenario played out in her dream. She woke up very agitated and said: "I had a dream. GHL-dlkaold macanoni elaosl face, my shirt aodldlldle hair...dhlslsod mummy ...in the shower dohhdood cold. Very cold."

Doing stunts in my very own fast car

My parents had bought me a new car to commemorate some kind of acheivement. Now you have to realize that a) I've never owned a car, b) my parents, simply, don't buy me thinks like that, and c) I don't drive.

So: I had this shiny, black Porsche convertible of my very own. While J and some of our friends enjoyed brunch in this European-type terrace space, I burned around alone in my new car. I got air on stairs. I drove really fast. I had a really super crazy good time.

Then I parked the car and joined everyone at the table. I was looking at photographs of myself driving the fast, black car. Imogen was in the passenger seat. We were flying through the air, our blonde hair waving in the wind.

Suddenly, J said: "I just heard someone drive away in your car. I think your car was stolen."

I used a cell phone to call the (get this) in-car phone. This car thief picked up. He thought I was someone else and explained how he had just stolen this amazing Porsche.

I said: "that's my Porsche and I'm going to call the police. No. I'm going to call my friends who are in a motorcycle gang and they'll do horrible things to you and get my car back."