22 Feb 2006
I don’t often remember my dreams. I don’t often get enough sleep. (I didn’t last night either, but when Sam went down for a nap this morning, I just had to join her!)
My dream started in a B&B with large, lush, flowing grounds. We’d been there for the weekday part of a week with Carolyn’s parents (and Sam)1. Carolyn’s parents had left leaving us with Sam to continue out the weekend at the B&B. Now it was Saturday, and Carolyn was packing up to go a day earlier, despite the fact that I intended to stay the entire duration. It was unclear whether she was intending to take Sam with her or not. She complained about my failure to communicate and I got mad saying that I wasn’t the one who had decided to leave and failed to communicate that! She said she was leaving because there was a war going on outside — how had I not noticed it? Shortly after she said so, I was hearing the bullets whizzing around, etc. But on peaking outside, I saw a bunch of 20-somethings engaging in what looked more like war-play than war.
Then I noticed that one of them was using a drill as his gun, and I became more sure that it was just play. I was then involved in the play and it was a 2-sided Live-Action Role Play. I got involved, and captured one of the capos of the other side, and held him ransom, but when his buddies came to collect, I confirmed with him (in a way that the others could hear) that the 60-40 split was still good, setting him up to be under suspicion upon his return.
The game ended and in so doing started again at the beginning. Somehow, my actions in the previous game had managed to completely unite both sets of players onto the opposing team (now wearing two different shades of yellow to indicate their different origins, but unified membership). The game was that Sir Walter Raleigh had risen from the grave (buffyverse-style) to attempt to recreate the knights of the round table2. I don’t know why everyone in yellow opposed it. They just did. Sir Walter Raleigh emerged from the grave (quite convincingly!), but nude, and I gave him the only thing I had available — a white bath towel. It quickly turned into a blue doublet for him, as he learned to speak English again after a long hiatus of being, you know, dead. In short order, though, we were dispatching with the yellow team as they ran up to us one after another, Sir Walter Raleigh would gut them (while remaining sitting on a throne), and I would check them off a long list of enemies from the clipboard telling him which ones he should shake upside down so that their gold would fall out.
When I woke up, Sam was still asleep.