Concert Rapids & Naked Swimmers

Is it normal for people to actually talk in your dreams?  There was a lot of it going on.  Maybe because Kevin has the radio going, since he’s been up long before me.  Technically I was up long before him, battling heartburn, but when that finally subsided, I fell back asleep at 7:30ish.

My dream started out at a concert with my daughter.  It was on the river, and Tommy Shaw was the main act.  Posters, tour programs, and all sorts of merch was being tossed into the crowd.  I was one of the lucky ones to catch a super thick signed version of the program.

After snapping a bunch of pictures, the concert ended, and we were walking to find the car while my daughter called for an uber so she could go meet her friends somewhere.  By the time I found my car, ambulances were everywhere, and my daughter disappeared.

When I got in my car, I got the phone call.

As I frantically searched downtown Buffalo for which hospital my daughter was in because they didn’t tell me, I’m pretty sure I started crying in my sleep.  The first hospital I tried was weird.  They were calling other hospitals while I waited, to find out where my daughter could be.

When I asked a lady why she was carrying 4 babies, she simply said “Over 100 babies are born here each day”.  I recall being so astonished at how many babies there were, until she said “This is the baby hospital, after all.  Everyone else goes to the other hospitals.” … OH.

When my daughter was located, Kevin had shown up by then and we were getting ready to go back to the river, where there was a hiking event happening.  So, we had to park far away, catch a shuttle bus to the river, and search for the hospital our daughter was at.  Except someone stopped us at the entrance to tell us she was discharged.

And then Kevin and I decided to just stay with the hiking event.  But then the hikers quit, and they were either having picnics, or swimming in the river, which was toxic and dangerous because of the rapids that led to Niagara Falls.

As we were hiking along the edge of the river, I dropped my backpack from the concert, which contained my hoodie, camera, and concert program.  I made Kevin go find someone who might help us get it out of the river.  It was too close to the rapids, and we couldn’t even find a way to even get down there.

While he was gone, I kept seeing a few old men down there swimming.  I remember thinking they got down there somehow, so I walked a little further and found an old shed which had a dark stairwell.  And because I couldn’t see shineola, I shined my phone flashlight down to make sure it was safe, and broke past the ‘do not enter’ barriers.

At the bottom of the shed was a huge pile of random things, which I figured was recovered crap that people accidentally dropped into the river as they were hiking.  But I couldn’t find mine, so I kept going further into the weird depths of this now stinky shed.  It smelled like rotting fish.  As I got further, I saw light, and an exit which led to the actual river bank.

I got so excited, and started walking along the river, where naked old men were swimming some kind of marathon.  And I was a like oh shit, I’m not supposed to be here when I heard “Excuse me!  Are you authorized to be down there?”.  Turns out a security guard followed me to the shed, but he refused to go further than the steps, and he threatened to arrest me if I didn’t climb up the hill to get back to the hiking trail.

By the time I got back up (with my backpack which I eventually found), there were people sunbathing, and I still had no clue where my daughter or husband were.  WTF?

But then my mother showed up, and she distracted me by walking us to a nearby field, where there was a flea market filled with all kinds of stuff like donuts, plushies, and some interesting antiques.  But the only antique dealer there only had maybe two tables of stuff.

The lady had a stackable lamp with detachable crystal animals and silk flowers.  The more you added to the thing, the brighter it got.  But then my eye was caught by some swords, and some ‘bone’ pieces, which all assemble to make a cool gold flag that represented all Hispanic/Latino countries of the world.  I wanted it so badly!

But when I started to dig out money, and I asked how much all of this stuff was, a little old Chinese couple came forward and started putting everything away.  “We’re sorry.  We can’t sell this to you.  They won’t allow it through customs when you go back over the border to go home.”

When and how the hell did we get into Canada???

After yelling at my mom, asking her why she brought me somewhere I couldn’t even spend money at (mainly because some of the flag parts were fucking ivory, which I guess is banned here unless you go through a shit ton of red tape), I left the flea market and went back to search for my husband and daughter.

But my daughter had gone home, and by the time I made it back to the hiking area, my husband was emerging from that shed, minus clothes – because he had gone down into the river to look for me, and the rapids shredded his clothes when he jumped in to see if I had gone swimming!

Previous to all of the above, earlier in the night, I had brief dreams about Jack – my childhood boyfriend.  That’s not his real name, of course, but he had an RV, and he was ‘helping’ me move.  I won’t expand on those details…..

And now it’s sunny outside.  I’m wide awake, but could’ve keep sleeping had it not been for my son all excited because it’s Easter.  He just wanted the Kit-Kats and Steam gaming card.  He could care less about the rest of the candy, because he’s not a normal kid, and doesn’t care much for things like ice cream or too much candy, other than the Kit-Kats of course.

Happy Easter!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.