7/14/12 This is one of my favorite dreams I've ever had, It was so real, yet surreal. It makes me want to base a novel or series on it. If only I could be this creative while awake. If it has some symbolic meaning, it beats the hell out of me what it is. I was probably just binge-reading Terry Pratchett novels again.
It's my birthday. About 10 of my
friends are gathered in the barn, lit only by the colored lights on
lines, zig-zagging across the walls and ceiling. It was so nice of
Eoin to put all this together for me, I think as I survey the
room. A lovely selection of traditional party fare is spread out
against the upper wall of the lower aspect of the L-shaped barn. The
tablecloth somehow contrives to hide many boxes, arranged on the
table to make a nice multilevel effect, the better to display the
food. There might be music playing but I hardly notice, engaged as I
am in watching my friends interact. Is it odd that I should stand
separate at my own birthday bash? Shouldn't I mingle with my friends?
Eventually I'll talk to them each individually, but for now I take
great pleasure in just watching them enjoy each other. This moment of
contentment is crudely interrupted by the entrance of someone whom no
one notices but I. If you could see her, you would swear no woman
lives as beautiful as this tall, buxom brunette. One by one, her
siren sisters materialize out of the air or walk through the
walls of the barn, until my friends are outnumbered by these blazing
beauties. Still, no one takes notice but I. I shuffle nervously over
to Eoin. "E, what are they doing here around the humans?!"
Eoin looks sheepish, but before he can answer, the first belle says,
"Don't worry, dear, none of them can see us. Remember, the things
in our heads? You don't think we'd miss your birthday?" My face
assumes a resigned countenance and I glance around urgently. Good, no
one saw me talking to someone who isn't there. It just looked like I
was talking only to Eoin. However, this is likely because, in the
darkest corner of the barn, one of the siren sisters is flinging
Mardi Gras beads around her head. While the guests might not see her,
they certainly see these apparently disembodied beads. Now another
and another of the lovely ladies join in this fun, whirling the beads
around their necks and arms like hula hoops, until the barn is
practically filled with beads seeming to spin themselves erratically
around. The guests are filled with wonder, showing plainly on their
bewildered faces. Some seek strings or some other mechanism by which
this magic might occur. Most simply watch the spectacle in
bewilderment. One shouts, "Wow! Good show y'all! How'd you do
that?!" Before I can think of some excuse, I notice that there's a
rather tall prone man growing out of the ground at my feet. In fact, he's
no man, but an elf, and he's not so much growing out of the ground as
arising. Just now only his face and toes are above the sod surface,
but he smiles at me with his cat-like countenance, and says in voice
smooth like skipping stones but strangely hollow, "Hello, lovely lady. I heard it is
your birthday." Now his shoulder-length blonde hair is above the
surface, now his whole being, and now he stands, even taller than
Eoin's 6'3" frame. This is even worse than the gaggle of gorgeous
women. His elven brethren are popping out of the ground all around
us like dragon teeth warriors and, while elves are generally
friendly, they don't really understand how their mischief can affect
mortals. Oh my, well, at least the humans can't see them either, and
perhaps the sirens will keep them busy. At this point, the barn is
nearly full to capacity. Not that the humans notice, not having left
their corner by the food. Nor do they seem to notice my distress as I
glare anxiously around the barn at my supernatural guests. I turn
around to join my human companions and there, standing as tall as any
elf, is a giant pink anthro-rabbit. "Harvey! What are you doing
here?" Ironically, the humans can see Harvey and they all
rush over to check out his "suit". Harvey, of course, stands mute
while they rudely examine his ears, whiskers, paws, tail.
Embarrassed, I usher him over to the refreshments, hoping -correctly-
that they won't follow. Behind me, I hear one of the guests ask Eoin,
"Dude, why'd you hire a dude in a bunny suit?" I think Eoin makes
some excuse about not having planned it and "You know how hippies
are. He probably just thought it would be cool," even though Eoin
knows full well the pink fur is no artifice. Before I have time to
get my story straight in my head about Harvey, I turn towards a high,
papery voice arguing with Eoin. Oh no. It's Johnny the Homicidal
Maniac... in 2D black and white. I really don't know how to explain
this. I guess I'll just tell my friends he's just very pale, very
thin, and very short. Maybe I can make up some disease to explain it.
Goodness, I hope he doesn't kill anyone. To forestall this
unfortunate likelihood, I rush over and, not even knowing what is
wrong, immediately begin the litany, "I'm so sorry Johnny.
What can I do? Are you alright? I'm so very sorry, Johnny.
It's okay. They're just humans. Yes, I know, they don't understand.
There there. Maybe you should go home and have a nice laydown. I'll
call you when there aren't any humans around." This appeases him
and he slips out of the barn -miracle of miracles!- without killing
anyone. And now Harvey is the center of attention again, being the
most interesting thing the human guests can see. The belles and elves
seem to be entertaining each other nicely. Maybe I can finally relax
and enjoy my birthday. Alas, all is naught, for I wake up.
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