August 6 Dream

I was packed into a truck, in the backseat with a pregnant woman, some other woman, and possibly Patrick's (an old friend) sister. Patrick and his "dad" were in the front.

We end up at a hospital, to drop off the pregnant woman. We all take turns hugging her goodbye and wishing her good luck.* At that point, she was going to have the baby alone. But only Patrick, his dad and I were in the truck when we drove off. Since this was a lucid dream, I made up that his mom and sister didn't want her to be alone.

Patrick and his dad are driving me home. We're now in Littleton (where I lived from 2000-2008--in New Hampshire) at the junction of Main and Union Street, at the light on Cottage Street. Two tour buses are turning towards us (which if you've ever been to Littleton, you would know is nearly impossible--the streets aren't wide enough for the traffic, not that that stops anyone). We keep freaking out, but the buses get by without incident.

We then end up in the back parking lot of the Main Street stores (unfortunately, no pictures of the back parking lot), driving down some road that bypasses town (there is an actual road that does this, but this is not the route we took). I am noticing the weather, which seems to be an overcast autumn afternoon. I begin laughing and remarking * that only four things have changed in Littleton, everything else has stayed the same. Patrick remarks that the road leading to my house (which is actually a bike trail/riverwalk--no cars admitted) is now painted green. I change my tune and say five things have changed.

We end up at my house, which isn't the house I lived in while I lived in Littleton. Patrick walks me to the door. His dad is parked down the street (I have no idea why), and is hidden by a vast amount of trees.

At this point, I end the dream, not wishing to pursue it further.

* Patrick is about sixteen in this dream, and I have no idea how old I was. It's the last age I saw Patrick in person (I moved from California to Littleton the year we would have been 17).
* At some point in the whole bus/going home adventure, Patrick's dad makes some joke, which made me laugh and Patrick cringe. I remember I leaned my head against the back of Patrick's seat when I laughed. Also while driving through the shortcut, it was like a dead-end they had created. Patrick's dad drove over the road blocks (which looked like rubber cane tips) in order to drive on the riverside road (which as previously stated, you couldn't).
* In reality, driving me home via Cottage St. would have been the easiest, since you have to pass the street I lived on to get to Main Street. Driving around Main Street was traffic-heavy and difficult (especially in the autumn, during the height of foliage season).

March 16 Dream

Well after quite a period of nothingness, I finally had a dream. I think it was fueled by St. Patrick's Day, a certain Irish actor I admire tweeting me on Twitter as well as leaving a comment on a blog of mine, and just good vibes altogether. I haven't analyzed this dream, since it seems pretty straightforward.

5:33am

I am at home, talking to my mom and folding laundry or something to that extent. My dad isn't home. My mom is going on and on about something that my dad did to piss her off. We anticipate that dad will be home soon, and I see my soon-to-be-twenty-year old sister driving off to get breakfast or dinner, an action we know will piss off dad. It's dark outside, so it could be morning or night.

We're in our house in Littleton, so I can see a truck enter the driveway (we're in the first bedroom I moved into when we moved into the house, and I overlooked the driveway). My mom is still talking, as I am heading down the hallway, trying to tell her someone is coming to the door. The staircase is long and winding, like the staircase in the house I currently live in. I go out the front door, and pop my head around the corner of the house, calling the guy. Kelsey (my youngest sister) had warned me he was "hot."

He comes around the corner, and I get a better look at him, and he's smiling at me, and I share my sister's opinion. 

"That's not the front door," I smile warmly. He follows me into the house, and now we're in another house I've never lived in. We'd just received new furniture, and he's come to inspect it because my mom called about a problem. Kelsey disappeared, because she's in pajamas. There's pamphlet-like ads strewn about the living room, and my mom has magically turned into her cordial self.

The guy comes into the living room, taking one look at the furniture, and says, "Yeah, someone's messed with it." Kelsey pokes her head in to look at him, and I am neatly trying to stack those pamphlet-things that are all over the coffee table.  Just as he tries to talk to me, I wake up.

-Fin-

My youngest sister and I at Lake Willoughby in 2008, right before we moved back to the West Coast.