I don’t know what to make of this dream. I must consult Ruby’s dream book. There are just too many images, though!
It was rainy and dark. I had to board a plane but was having second thoughts about going to Colorado. I’m not sure if it was because I was traveling alone or because I was taking one of those tiny planes where you climb stairs to board. You didn’t get the long hallway, the stepping from gate to plane that seems seamless. I don’t know why I was alone in the terminal. When they finished loading luggage onto the tiny aircraft I still couldn’t decide if I wanted to go. The OrNot was weighing heavy on me. No one was paying any attention to me until finally I was all alone – the last to get on. Finally, I boarded.
Once inside I noticed the seating was limo style, around the contours of the plane. I took up a seat in a corner and realized I didn’t have any money, no wallet, no nothing. I don’t know why but this didn’t bother me as much as it should have.
When the plane began to move I thought to myself ‘there is no turning back now’ so I leaned back to try to sleep. I don’t know why. I never sleep well when someone else is at the wheel and in charge of my destiny. I remember thinking we (?) just bought a futon so why was I taking a trip we couldn’t afford?
At some point the plane turned into a bus and I felt relief even though I now didn’t know where we were going. When I asked someone he shrugged and said in a bored tone, “around” and something about Portland, Maine. I replied that I was familiar with it and started to describe what I knew – two residents. A man missing 17 teeth and a woman missing only one. We passed a harbor with many fancy boats. None for lobstering.
The bus stopped and the passengers got off to hike – in the White Mountains of NH, I think. There were many waterfalls and everything was alive with green. Somehow I was planning to ditch the bus tour and go home. I was thinking I never should have come.
We were halfway up the mountain when we saw someone fall off the rock face. He bounced down the rocks towards definite death until somehow, miraculously, he grabbed onto a ledge and managed to make his way to safety. As we watched him climb up I noticed he was Asian and wearing a red shirt. Lucky. Before he even got to terra firma I was distracted and my attention was drawn away from the once-falling man. I was no longer interested.
Out of nowhere kisa showed up. We stood in a room and argued about going home. Someone else was in the room, ignoring us. I insisted we were still in MA even though I knew better. Frustrated by the argument I glanced at my shirt and noticed it was too frilly and buttoned wrong (not mine?) but I made no move to correct it.
When I said I didn’t pay for my ticket J said he knew. He then said the brakes on the bus needed fixing, yet he wanted to stay “on tour.” I said I didn’t know what we were touring and didn’t want to miss work.
Then I woke up. How bizarre.