March 16, 2002 :: 11:16 a.m.
Rufus and N'Sync and fake Elvis, oh my!
*groans* Ugh. So tired. Still. I went to bed around 2:30, set my alarm for 9 a.m., and ended up sleeping until 11. Oh well. I was having this weird ass dream, again somewhat involving a Rufus concert, that I believe was influenced by this crazy movie I saw last night. I turned it on in the middle, so I didn't see the whole thing, but from what I made of it a group of Elvis impersonators robbed a casino and by the end just about everyone ended up dead. Hmm. Anyway.
In my dream, two people that I knew at the time but don't recognize now and myself were at a Rufus concert. It was in this weird, smoky place with lots of folding chairs, and the stage was off to the right. We saw the opening act (Teddy Thompson, of course, who actually was Rufus' opening act), who sang for a bit and then called my name to do something. I went up to the stage and he told me that there were five full trash bags inside the various cabinets on the wall, and that I had to take one at a time and drive it to the other side of the room in a little go art. The go kart was covered with a mattress so that I couldn't see where I was going, but I cheated and lifted it up enough to afford a decent view. So I did that... and then I sat down again. This other man came out with a band of children and burly, bearded men who played a kind of polka (I kid you not). The man with he polka band called me up again, and he gave me a packet of papers that detailed the guests to a certain tea house (of which certainly are none in central PA) called Miss Saigon. I guess that as a reward for performing the go kart/trash bag task, I was being given the opportunity to have tea with Rufus at Miss Saigon.
I gathered up the two people who were with me, and Joey from N'Sync helped us go out the back way before Rufus even came on. We wanted to get there early, you see. We hopped in my car and started driving the two hours home (the concert was in Philly, as far as I can gather), which should have been uneventful. Er, no. Somewhere along the way we parked and started walking around, I guess to stretch, when this crazy man in a red Cadillac almost ran us down on the sidewalk. He looked like one of the guys from the Elvis bank robbery movie, too. Weird. Anyway, he was out to kill us for some reason, and he eventually caught us and took us to his house. He began planning to blow up his house, himself, and us shortly thereafter. The three of us were in a bedroom, being guarded by this spider-esque mechanism whose name was Molly. There was a dirt-filled spoon between the slats of the window blinds. I took it out and somehow planned an escape using it. It worked. I got out.
I found my car and picked up the other two as they ran out of the house. The scary man got into his Cadillac and chased us. We drove up a mountain, where I proceeded to jump over other vehicles that were in the form of toys and breakfast foods. We came to a stop in big clearing in the woods, dragged my car behind a big bush so it would remain unseen, and were about to hide when Cadillac man pulled up. The drivers of the toy and breakfast food cars were standing around, asking what was going on. "He's trying to kill us!" I said. They didn't believe me. They thought that we were just a bunch of punks and that he was the one in trouble. Bitches. This is where the dream ended, because I woke up. Boo.
Yeah... so that was bizarre. I woke up sweating like a mofo, too, because it freaked me out so much. I have very vivid dreams. I�m very confused as to why a member of N�Sync was present. Someone needs to explain this to me. Or, on second thought, maybe I don�t want to know.
*yawn* Still tired. I have to take a shower and gather up some quarters for gas, because I'm taking Adam (brother) to work this afternoon and the present state of my gas tank is a big fat E.
Rufus the cat is pacing the living room and meowing in this pitiful, whiny manner. He keeps escaping, getting outside, and I think he wants out right now. Sorry, kitty. No can do. I feel bad about it, but he's not fixed and he's not my cat. Joe wants him to be an inside cat, so an inside cat he shall be. That meowing is really sad, though. He sounds quite frustrated.
All right, shower time. I'll write more later, about something other than my freaky dream.
back & forth
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