I've had a bunch of dreams I can remember lately, set in odd places. Here they go:
1. An imaginary desert east of LA with my brother in law in his truck. We were driving fast and hunting tigers as we went. I was uneasy about it because I liked the tigers.
2. The U.K, Buckinham Palace. My family found out (through my dad's extensive geneaology research) that we are related to Prince Philip, the Queen Elizabeth's consort, through some Danish acenstry. Don't ask me if Prince Philip is Danish, I really don't know. He is in my dreams. At any rate, Prince Philip died and we were invited, all expenses paid, to his funeral. Mom has never been out of the country before and has always wanted to see the UK, so we went. It was a typically awkward social experience with my family. My family doesn't do high society. My Dad started dancing, which, if you're one of the small few who have ever been privileged to meet my dad, is almost unthinkably bizarre.
3. Toronto. Or at least the Toronto of my dreams. I drove up in my beamer and it was raining. I saw the CN Tower and lots of neat looking buildings wandering around town. I loved it and was still thinking about just staying before I woke up. I met my friend Steven there, and drove him to an old man's house where he needed to make a trade. Steven had some stereo equipment and electronics he was dropping off. Maybe it wasn't a trade because I'm not sure if he got anything in return. It was a little shady. And Steven might have stolen the stuff. Sometimes he's a klepto. He stole me my first Calvin and Hobbes book, but thats another story. We proceeded to drive around Toronto and loved it there.
Alright, back to stupid real life. Got Calculus homework to do.