This isn't my actual entry for today, but I just woke up and I HAD to write this down before I forget!
So I had this dream where we were celebrating some big family meal at my Nana and Papa's house, and my Papa came back from the dead. He had died, and he didn't want us to celebrate without him, so he resurrected himself on a day pass. Their basement was different though. They had done some serious remodeling and the basement had a bar, a game room, HUUUGE bathrooms with a spa, and the oddest thing of all: a stage and a band room. (I think this may have been attributed to being in part of the new addition at Watterson yesterday).
It's almost time to go, but I've been too busy exploring to eat anything, so I fix a plate of food to take home, and my Mom fixes me a salad. My Papa sees this, and he gets PISSED (he's a ghost, he can't eat anything) and steal the roll off of my plate, and the chicken off of my salad and throws them away. So now I just have a plate with some corn on it, but I also wanted some macaroni and cheese (which looks suspiciously like the mac & cheese from KFC, which we also talked about yesterday), so I go off hunting around for it.
As I explore the upstairs part of the house, it's almost like no one died and we haven't been moving furniture out. Somehow we got basically everything back, but my Papa is upset because it looks different from when he lived there, which is also contributing to his anger over my doggy bag. We say our goodbyes, and I leave and go to the airport.
I get to the airport where Jackie and Dustin are waiting for me. Apparently we're flying to Paris for Dustin's 21st birthday. So we get on the plane, but they aren't sitting near me. Instead I'm sitting next to some middle aged woman who makes fun of me because I struggled with the seat belt. It was one of those confusing contraptions with a shoulder thing on both shoulders and a lap thing, like what they use on high chairs. Finally, we get buckled and we're off, but we're not flying. We're driving, and in front of us is the bus that we used for the American Music Abroad tour in 2005, the Christophorus Reisen! Also, there's a very large ship of some sort that starts to follow us as we drive to Paris.
Finally, we arrive at our hotel and it is SWANKY! Brenda is meeting up with us there, and we are on the 9th floor. To go out clubbing, you have to register at the concierge desk, and you need a ticket (which looked suspiciously like the one from West Side Story last night), your driver's license, a cell phone, and proof that you're staying in the hotel. Well, I had all of those things but the driver's license and my camera. I'm not entirely sure what I brought with me, haha. So Dustin volunteers to go back up to our room to get my stuff with me, but even though we hit the button for the ninth floor, we end up in some famous Frenchwoman's apartment. So we freak out and run back to the elevator, and then we get my stuff and head back to the first floor.
While we're in the elevator, Dustin turns to me and starts making out with me. Like hardcore, horizontal bodies, make out. Of course, there's some snotty French woman also in the elevator and she is judging us like crazy. When we're done making out, Dustin looks at me and says, "Wow, I never thought I'd do that with you!" And I think the same thing, but I don't get to say because the French lady goes, "You do realize he's gay, right?" And Dustin FREAKS OUT because apparently in my dream he's not out, and in France if you say someone is gay, it gets put on the news. So now he's pissed off at the French lady. Thankfully, we're back on the first floor by this time, and so we go to register to go clubbing.
Jackie, Brenda, and Dustin have no problems. However, when I pull out my ID, someone has traded it for a fake, and the picture looks like Carmen Sandiego, all animated and stuff like she was on the TV show! Naturally, the girl working the desk is now suspicious of me. But instead of telling her what happened (she was French and kind of pissy) I let her think that that is my real ID. So then she starts asking me all these questions, like what my French nickname is. I panic and give her my French name from high school, Christelle. Then she looks at me like she wants a last name too, so I say "Marmalade" in a French accent. Then she asks me where I was born. I forget that other parts on the ID are probably fake too, so I say Columbus, Ohio, and she looks at my ID and sees that it says somewhere in Alabama (I forget the name of the town, it wasn't one I had heard of before). So then she rolls her eyes and says to go have fun, but be careful. As we're walking away from the desk, I get a text message on my phone, and the name just says "Officer". The message was something along the lines of, "Okay, we'll get to her later. Good job." I think that the lady at the desk sent out an alert to the French police to tell them that there was someone in their country who isn't who they say they are, and they sent the message back to the wrong number. But now they have my phone number, and they can track me. So I turn to Jackie, Dustin, and Brenda, and I tell them what's happening and that I need to get to the US Embassy as soon as I can to get this whole mess straightened out.
And then I woke up.
Sigmund Freud would have a field day with my brain.
~Christine
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