Jen

High School Related Dream #2.

Apparently I'm dating this guy Steve, who, as most people know, I really didn't care for in high school. When we were in first grade, our Pound Puppies got married.* That was the last time we really got along. Anyway, Steve and I and a group of our friends - Laura (the trombone player from High School Related Dream #1), Ian (who most, if not all blog members know), and random miscellaneous people from high school who names I can't remember, are at the arena of the Detroit Red Wings, which looks seriously more like someone's basement than an establishment to play hockey. We all walk to our seats, which are blocked by a giant wall. I only get to see just a slight glimpse of our goal (of course Detroit is playing the Blackhawks!) I'm extraordinarily pissed about this, but no one else I'm with cares. They are all to busy expressing their ranging hormones in the teenage fashion (aka a lot of flirting and play fighting, with the occasional make out session.)

I go searching for better seats and come back empty handed. Laura hands me something and I say “ This better be drugs!” and she says, “of course it is!”

The boys in our group go somewhere I'm not sure of, leaving only the girls behind to gossip. I then ask Laura where the drugs were from and she said Steve. I then say, “Shit, another drug dealer. I guess we have to break up.”**

The dream continues on only for me to realize that I am a 26 year old in a 16 year old body. I'm sick of the people I'm with and decide to go look for better seats again, even though I am now on acid. I end up running into an old friend/old co-worker of mine and decide that I want to hang out with him instead. He has to go to a job interview with the Redwings management, so I amuse myself by going up to the people at the nacho stand and asking them if the owners were Greek.

I'm sorry that I am relaying these stupid dreams. I'm figuring that the one person who will probably get amusement out of these is Christie.

However, I do think it's strange that I have this realization mid dream that I am not a teenager. Does anyone who reads this know anything about dreams?

*This is really true and not apart of my dream.
**In real life, Steve, at least I think, is not a drug dealer. It's also weird that I said “another drug dealer,” like I dated a whole series of drug selling men. As far as I know, I only briefly dated a male prostitute - at least that's what I think he was.