Thursday, January 29, 2009

Going to India

I dreamed I was on a plane heading for India. I was with my parents and siblings and we were all put in different rows of the plane. The plane was huge; there were three seats on either side of the plane like a usual giant plane, but in the middle, the row must have held about 10 seats. My mother was in the middle of that, I was on one of the sides, and my sister was a few rows behind me.

I mostly remembered the food they served because we got a choice of caesar salad or "other," which was the same as caesar but with no dressing. I got regular and regretted it. The rest of it was mushy piles of things in other colors. I think it's funny because everybody on the plane was really mad and grossed out about having to eat Indian food on the plane. My mom stood up in the middle of the row of seats, hands on her hips, exasperated look on her face. I think she was trying to lead a protest or something. But we were going to India, guys! What gives?

At one point, there were rumors flying around about how the pilot was considering stopping randomly to pick up one woman in another country. Everybody was mad about this. Right when our food was being served, the place took a sudden nosedive. I could see that we were landing at some airport (I somehow had a view looking straight out the front of the plane) and as the plane went down, I made some strange noises and said really quietly and bored-ly "nooooo..." We stopped in "Europe" and let on like 8 guys who looked exactly the same: big and fat and hairy. My father complained to somebody at the airport saying it wasn't fair that we were paying all this money and these guys got to ride for free. I started to go to stop him, but Emil stopped me. "It's for the workers," he told me. Dad's arguing to get them a better wage."

Later, when we were in India, I couldn't ever decide what to wear, and every time we got in a car and drove somewhere, I could see us (kind of in a cartoon-y way) on an actual map, a tiny car following a line from one city to the next. It was hot in India, and we all had a ton of cell phones that we made a lot of calls on.

Later, I was playing cards (Gin, or Rummy 500, or whatever you want to call it - I don't know) and I bet "my mother's ring," which really was just this giant purple tacky ring I own. This bitchy girl won it, but I was like "no way, asshole, that's my mother's ring." She was mad and told me "You knew this game was for real." But I refused. The cops came, and all of a sudden there were people everywhere, and I think maybe a few dead bodies...yuck.

2 comments:

Sara Ashes said...

ahhhh gotta love the dreams that are like life in a blender mixed with some crazy person thoughts. :)

Mindlab said...

This is one of the best ones yet. And it ends with maybe dead bodies!

I'll bet you learned not to gamble against bitchy girls, huh?