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31 December 2007 @ 10:39 am
what the hell, subconscious?  
Had a dream last night that the general manager of the Faire asked me to come back and joust. They had a horse for me and offered either a raise of $25 per day or a full massage at the end of each show day. I told them I'd have to think about it.


Oh, and I had another strange (but sort of awesome) dream the other night.

There were weird, sort of apocalyptic things happening. I was at a party with a bunch of people who simply vanished, save for one other woman, myself and the Tenth Doctor (side note: thank you, subconscious! :) ). It was cold out, so before we left the woman and I grabbed sweaters: she a white cardigan, me a brown one. We left the relative safety of the house and walked down the deserted suburban street. It was bitterly cold. The Doctor gave me his coat.

Came to the edge of a great park (like Central Park, only on a much grander and wilder scale). We traversed paths, scrambled up and down boulders and escarpments. Came to a great outcropping that was very difficult to navigate. It was high up, and the ridges of the rocks were narrow and spaced just far enough apart to make it rough. I whimpered at one point, and then apologized to the Doctor. “Let’s just hope no one heard.” On top of another bald, rocky summit, we could make out the silhouettes of six guys on a swing-type thing (ski lift). their voices carried to us across the still night, mingled in gorgeous harmony: it was Three Pints Shy, singing in latin, singing to the end of the world.

At some point we lost the woman in the white sweater. In the distance, in the early morning light, we could see a stronghold on on a rise in the forest. The White Riders, said the Doctor, and (in dream logic) it was clear they were going to come after me, and equally clear that the woman in the white sweater had betrayed us to them (because, apparently, treachery is color-coordinated). Not long after, they rode out in force. The Doctor and I dove for cover, not daring to move as they raced past. Moments later, we were grabbed from behind - friendly hands, fortunately. It was a group affiliated with Three Pints. They’d taken over an old ski lodge and were holed up there. They took us back, gave us pints of Guinness. I asked where the ladies’ was. As I left the table, the Doctor looked at me, not daring to say anything but - I knew later - trying to warn me with his glance.

I found the ladies’. Through the window I spied a pigeon coop with three cats resting among the birds. Also saw an intensely blue-eyed woman on a motorcycle. Our eyes met for a moment. When I was done and went back into the hallway, I knew at once that everyone had gone. I could feel it. It wasn’t until I got back to the main great room that the Riders leapt out - five women, seven men. A full dozen to capture me, and though I tried to fight one of the women kicked me in the stomach and then the side of the head, and I was down.

I woke up before I could find out how it ended. On the bright side, I still had Ten's coat.
I feel: mellowheh