Refraction

… as dreams are made on

I’ve been having a weird series of dreams the last few nights. Normally, I don’t remember my dreams at all, and when I do, they’re usually terribly mundane (perhaps I haven’t much imagination?) But the last few nights I’ve dreamt I’m an Olympic figure skater (women’s solo) in the 2010 Games, and I’m slowly advancing by some miracle. There are a few surreal elements too: a judge who outlaws Domo-kun from the rink, claiming a similarity with some other monster (a grue?); a ski chateau on Kingsway playing athletes’ village and serving hearty Alpine food; support from a man (or two) I’d rather have nothing to do with; coaching from my high school trivia coach. Even stranger, I manage to advance despite not including any jumps in my routine. It’s a wonder I’m in still in the competition at all.

I feel like I’m watching a serial soap opera or something, that’s all. I wonder if I’ll dream about it again tonight.

ETA: I didn’t. Instead I dreamt I was a spy working alongside one of my favourite musicians, Emm Gryner. We didn’t get up to much spyin’ though, I have this feeling we mostly sat around and… observed things.

Okay, I’ll admit it, I’m really quite homesick. Being nine hours ahead of my friends and family, and living alone don’t really help.

I dreamt last night that I was back home, but it soon became uncomfortable as I realized I’d not really done much of anything in France. At this point dream-me started panicking and really really hoping this was all a dream. In fact dream-me gave my dream-arm several good pinches–

At which point I woke up, uncomfortably ensconced in my studio but a little relieved I hadn’t sleepwalked my way to the airport.