It's all a bit fuzzy this morning but I seem to remember a few small tidbits of my dream last night. I was looking at a photo of a girl I used to go to grade school with (presumably on facebook). She was donning a fancy dress to attend one of her oh-so-fancy socialite events and an even fancier coat. This coat was clearly meant for royalty. It was very long, fuzzy, crimson, and it had a black and white spotted collar. In the picture, the coat continued on the floor off the frame and suddenly the picture turned into video zooming out and showing that her coat was actually 20 ft long (0r more). It was then that I realized she wasn't attending one of her oh-so-fancy parties but dancing in a recital, and "YIKES" I'm in it to but not as prepared.
Can can dancers gathered her coat in a line and moved to the stage while I followed along with the group of dancers surrounding me that appeared from seemingly nowhere. My dancing wasn't bad considering I hadn't practiced but it definitely wasn't good either. My former ballet instructor selected 5 0r 6 people and moved them toward the left, and instructed the rest of us to move the other way. For a split second I thought we were the better group but then it was obvious that we were the lesser dancers of the group.
Instead of gracefully exiting, my group took off running through halls and up flights of stairs to get to the stage. I wanted to know what was going on, so I asked what we were doing. Another dancer told me we were dancing as Smurfs in the ballet, and we were going on soon. "Oh great, I've got the part of a Smurf," I murmured to myself as we were running. "You're actually an Ort (I can't remember what it was actually called in the dream) for the recital," another dancer corrected me. She instructed me that the Orts were another type of Smurf that actually looked like the Smurfs I remember but the actual Smurfs looked like tiny gnomes with red hats. I wasn't sure if I had the better role at that point, and before I had time to figure it out my dream changed scenes.
I found myself standing in a room full of women. I somehow knew that I was at a feminist gathering where a solidarity strip would executed shortly. I was standing apart of the audience, and I was suddenly joined by a group of women facing the audience prepared to start the strip. Though I was clearly suppose to be a part of the audience I had ended up on the wrong side of the show. The solidarity strip began, and the women started singing a cute childhood ditty (imagine if you're happy and you know it) where each line was about removing a piece of clothing. It was very clear at this point, that the women were only stripping off as much as they felt comfortable with. After all, this whole experience was about feeling comfortable with your body. One or two lines of the song instructing the group to remove one or two items went by with no takers. The third line was about removing your skirt, and in the head of the moment I dropped skirt and was joined by half of the group. The next line instructed the group to drop there underwear, I passed and hiked my skirt back on but some of the group went forward. The reminder of the song was about removing tops and bras but there were no participation that removed these items. "How strange," I thought "that these women are more comfortable about showing their lower halves but not their breasts." I continued to wonder about the significance of that until my eyes drifted open to the sound of my roof being torn apart (this actually happened).
The roofers began their work today, and I logged my first dream. Yay!
Can can dancers gathered her coat in a line and moved to the stage while I followed along with the group of dancers surrounding me that appeared from seemingly nowhere. My dancing wasn't bad considering I hadn't practiced but it definitely wasn't good either. My former ballet instructor selected 5 0r 6 people and moved them toward the left, and instructed the rest of us to move the other way. For a split second I thought we were the better group but then it was obvious that we were the lesser dancers of the group.
Instead of gracefully exiting, my group took off running through halls and up flights of stairs to get to the stage. I wanted to know what was going on, so I asked what we were doing. Another dancer told me we were dancing as Smurfs in the ballet, and we were going on soon. "Oh great, I've got the part of a Smurf," I murmured to myself as we were running. "You're actually an Ort (I can't remember what it was actually called in the dream) for the recital," another dancer corrected me. She instructed me that the Orts were another type of Smurf that actually looked like the Smurfs I remember but the actual Smurfs looked like tiny gnomes with red hats. I wasn't sure if I had the better role at that point, and before I had time to figure it out my dream changed scenes.
I found myself standing in a room full of women. I somehow knew that I was at a feminist gathering where a solidarity strip would executed shortly. I was standing apart of the audience, and I was suddenly joined by a group of women facing the audience prepared to start the strip. Though I was clearly suppose to be a part of the audience I had ended up on the wrong side of the show. The solidarity strip began, and the women started singing a cute childhood ditty (imagine if you're happy and you know it) where each line was about removing a piece of clothing. It was very clear at this point, that the women were only stripping off as much as they felt comfortable with. After all, this whole experience was about feeling comfortable with your body. One or two lines of the song instructing the group to remove one or two items went by with no takers. The third line was about removing your skirt, and in the head of the moment I dropped skirt and was joined by half of the group. The next line instructed the group to drop there underwear, I passed and hiked my skirt back on but some of the group went forward. The reminder of the song was about removing tops and bras but there were no participation that removed these items. "How strange," I thought "that these women are more comfortable about showing their lower halves but not their breasts." I continued to wonder about the significance of that until my eyes drifted open to the sound of my roof being torn apart (this actually happened).
The roofers began their work today, and I logged my first dream. Yay!
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