I dreamed last night that I was in Kansas, at my father's dad's old house. I was looking around it and I realized I wanted to capture how everything looked, so I could remember. I grabbed a camera and started snapping pictures so that I wouldn't forget where they put the seashells or how fluffy the carpet was in the TV room, or the exact shade of orange was in the living room...
(Unfortunately, they've since moved to Iowa to an old folks' home and I've lost my chance in real life)
Then I was with some of dad's other relatives and we were preparing for a wedding at grandpa's church, which had changed locations magically to the South -- Missouri or somewhere.
We went to our friend Adam's apartment, but only I went in. There was a guy on a couch with a gun and although I thought it was plastic, I didn't want to guess wrong so when he beckoned for me to sit down, I did, the gun right in my back. When Stu and his friend came in, we were unsure what the guy wanted, but somehow we escaped.
We went to a hospital where the nurse had something wrong with her face and I couldn't get her name right even though I'd been there before and she was upset because she thought it was her face that made me not remember her name (one of her eyes was tilted and had a black spot beneath it), which was Cecily. Like I didn't want to remember her because her face was so weird.
I got in a van with my relatives and drove to a log cabin, old country church and it was full of people with bright clothes, and Hugh Jackman was there and somehow it turned into a musical and just as Hugh was about to burst everyone's eardrums with amazing singing, my alarm went off.
I have rarely been so aggravated at not being able to see how a dream turned out.
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