I guess I’m just on this string of really weird dreams lately. I know I have a history of them which is one of the reasons I created this journal in the first place. Anyway, the first think I remember is being part of a wedding. We’re at the reception and the best man isn’t there to give his toast. Apparently he had to step out take care of some business, so he kept sending me messages to keep the people busy. People are starting to get tired of waiting around and are about to leave, so in a last ditch effort, he tells me to get everyone dancing… with DOGS. Sadly, I remember thinking that this was the most ingenious idea ever. People everywhere are slow dancing with their favourite canine companion. I had a little bit of trouble with this and kept falling down. After a while, people get tired of doggy dancing, so they all start to leave saying, “I can’t believe I danced with a dog, jolly good time,” and patting me on the shoulder as they headed for the door. Just then, the best man shows up and leads the crowd in a few songs. The first song I didn’t know, but apparently everyone else did, so I faked my way through it. The second one was “O, Canada.” I’m not sure why, but apparently the wedding party was Canadian (???).
We all leave the reception hall, humming and singing the Canadian national anthem. The reception itself was held in a high school gym, so I traverse the halls back to the locker room to get my stuff. I go into the wrong locker room a few times before finally finding the one that had my stuff. I grab my bag and coat and head out as fast as I could. The reason for the hastiness was because I had to make sure I caught the activity bus home. I get outside and there are no busses. Part of me is worried that I missed them. Finally, I find a group of very stereotypical high school girls chatting away on the mobile phones and making plans to go to the mall. I ask them about the bus and they inform me that the busses don’t arrive for another forty minutes. I decide to just walk home, figuring I’d be home before the busses even arrived at the school. I also notice that I’m wearing a winter coat, and it’s about 80 degrees outside. I start walking to my house and join a few other walkers and we start up a small conversation about where we live, etc. On a side note, the house I was walking to was my old house in Ft. Meade, MD. When I lived there I actually walked to school and back.
We break off and head in separate directions towards our homes and shortly after that, we (Frankie Muniz, aka Malcolm in the Middle and I – yeah, I don’t get it either) meet up with this man playing this his dog in this small yard. The dog is a golden retriever, but he has a small cast on his right front paw. Apparently he damaged it playing around in the yard not too long ago. The man and the dog were playing a game where the man would hide some food and the dog would find it with his eyes closed. The dog came sniffing at me with is eyes closed and it made me really nervous because I had a really old cookie in my pocket. I was afraid he would smell it and try and bite through my leg. Before he can do that, I go ahead and give him the cookie. Unfortunately, the cookie is too old and the dog can’t chew on it, so the man tells me to take the cookie and throw it in the garbage inside his house. He didn’t want me to just chuck because the dog might find it again. I go inside to discard the spoiled treat and proceed to look around the house a bit. The guy is really nice, so he decides to let us come over whenever we want.
From here, I find my dad’s truck and I am going to drive it back home. On the way, there is a 100% I.D. check on the Army base. Unfortunately, I misjudge the strength of the brakes and stop a few feet past the check point. The guards rush upon me with drawn guns, yelling at me to calm down. I keep my hands raised and try to explain to him that it was my fault; I just didn’t realize I needed to brake that much earlier. I give him my license; he checks it as well as looks the truck over.
Eventually I make it back to the nice guy’s place and learn that Frankie had really taken advantage of his hospitality and starts bringing a girl over with him. On more than a few occasions, the man and his wife couldn’t take showers because he and his new girl were already in there.
A bit later, Frankie is trying to figure out how to set up a computer so he and the girl can talk online when they aren’t defiling the man’s shower. Apparently, and this is where it gets really weird, aliens wanted the technology and they attack us. Luckily, I find a shotgun and start dispensing of them. You have to use a shotgun because they have the capability to split into two new aliens if you don’t. The aliens are everywhere and have Frankie and his girl trapped in a room. I run in, shoot a bunch of aliens, run through the halls and come into the same room through a different door and shoot some more aliens. There are 3 distinct types of aliens, and when the split, they could come out different than the original. The problem is that when I leave the room, the surviving aliens split so there are more when I re-enter. Finally there are only two left and the smaller one takes off with the girl. Frankie gives chase, while I run down the bigger one (since I was the one with the gun). The alien ducks into a room and starts to divide, which is a really gross process. However, something goes wrong and it ends up dying. The alien ends up kind of looking like Jim Carrey in Me, Myself and Irene. I head to track down the others and find the other alien had split into two, but because it had split so much, the two aliens were tiny and pretty powerless. They ended up looking like really bad Christmas Tree Angels, complete with cone shaped body and outstretched arms. They were kind of stretchy as well. I would grab one end and Frankie the other and we would see how far we could get them to stretch. It was about here that I woke up. . .
I’m not really sure what to think about this dream. I’m confused as to why a lot of my dreams have a science fiction connotation about them. I’m far from being any sort of sci-fi fan. What’s worse is that Malcolm in the Middle is getting more ladies than I am, which is really sad when you think about it.