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things that aren't mine

In Real Life, I bought one of Heather's key necklaces a few years ago. After Michael and I started dating, I gave it to him.

In the dream, M and I were in my parents' house, which turned out to be ours, and Tyler and Aster were trying to take the key necklace away. They weren't going to leave the house without it. Tyler was very patiently explaining why the key belonged to him, and I was getting more and more upset, saying that I'd bought it with my own money and I'd given it to Michael. I left M talking to the two of them, hiding the key in my pocket, and ran up to my room. I knew they were going to search the room later, and I couldn't think of where to hide it, so I opened up a dresser drawer and put the key into a pocket of my cargo pants. Later, M asked me where I'd put the key, and I couldn't find it again. Finally found it, but the pants were in a different drawer.
snow tree

Monday night "football"

rob, Heather and I have been hired to hunt down and take out a serial killer hiding in the woods in California. We make a stop at a boarded up building in Baltimore somewhere for Heather to retrieve their equipment, and, hopefully, a pair of shoes for me. Meanwhile, a group of locals gather in the backyard of this house to mourn the loss of some neighborhood children. I remark to rob that, really, it would be a lot more fun to hunt someone down through this abandoned section of B-more than forests in CA. He agrees, Heather returns, and we set out on our way, me still barefoot.

Traveling cross-country equates to running through inner city alleys, most of which are uphill, filled with sand, and sprinkled with broken glass. I make it through without cutting my feet, but decide to try to find a shoe store as soon as possible. Eventually we reach our destination, and I tell them I'm going to stop in an outdoors-equipment shop before we head into the woods.

They have shoes right inside the door, but I realize I have no other sort of gear, so I poke around and eventually find a nice, waterproof jacket that won't make too much noise running around in the woods. I go to purchase these items and discover that it's "buy one, have a burger with the staff" day at this particular store. They force me to wait around while the burgers are cooked and prepared. Eventually I get my food, wolf it down, and run outside.

Heather and rob have been replaced by thegreatape, kitsunedo and my friend Will from high school. They are very nervous and whisper to me that while I was in the store, they took a walk, and "that thing we came here to do, we don't have to do it anymore." Then they recommend that I go find one of the CID officers and give a statement.

There are no CID officers to be found, just several British Police constables who seem to have better things to do than listen to me. I wander down the street with no luck, then back to the building we were standing outside of originally, which is a Victorian-looking building that seems to house a university's Physical Sciences department.

Wandering around this building, I am suddenly part of the cast of some bizarre, chaotic version of "Whose Line is it Anyway?" along with Greg Proops, a strange combination of Ryan Stiles and Jim Carey, and a younger version of the guy who plays Hurley on "LOST." Despite my nervousness and general confusion I manage to be quite funny. After the show wraps, the cast and crew transform the stage into a series of lofted beds, where we spend the night.

The next morning we wake up and pack up. Somehow, everybody now has a guitar, and I've got about twice as much to carry as anybody. Somehow I make it downstairs, where Erica is waiting with the car. We start driving, and even though the street signs in this part of the world are tiny and often behind trees, we manage to reach our destination without missing any turns. The building we arrive at looks almost identical to the one we left.

Inside, we are directed out onto the patio for breakfast. The area leading out to the patio looks like the dining/living rooms in Erica's parents' house, if those rooms were stretched out to be about twice as long. Ann and Steve are sitting at the table, and ask me how things are going. I tell them I thought I'd be older before I ended up on "Whose Line..." They say congratulations, then tell me that if I want to get a seat at a table with Joanna and Sharif, I should probably go find one now before they're all taken.
flying

Thursday night: Pettiness. IN SPACE.

I and three of my coworkers are manning a space shuttle mission. Jennifer is the only one who is allowed to make a space walk, so she puts on her spacesuit and heads for the airlock while the rest of us complain. Once she gets outside of the shuttle, she starts making circles past all of the windows, looping and darting all over the place. Shawn gets so annoyed that she starts piloting the shuttle away, leaving Jennifer behind. It's OK, though, because Jennifer is able to run(?) alongside us the whole way.

Later, we land in a field near a village and offer to help the villagers with their latest crisis.
flying

Wednesday night: And they just keep coming

I am sitting at one end of a couch. Sharif is next to me, and a few of my college friends are sharing this couch and one that extends at a right angle from it. Sharif turns so that he is facing me, and shows me his new credit card, which lists the cardholder's first name as "PLEASESAYIDO". I have a hard time reading it, and we laugh that it looks kind of like it says "Kiss Me". He then gives me two rings. One of these is a very very old claddagh ring, which was certainly silver at one point, but is now a dark sort of matte grey. The other is made of a shiny green metal and has a peridot set in it. I put them both on and try to show them off to my college friends, but they aren't interested.

Later, I am helping to run an evening at a murder mystery house, where we are in charge of making sure everything goes smoothly, even though we don't know the solution to the mystery. I go to see if there are any clues in my car, stopping along the way to wonder if I should look for a real corpse in the lake. I decide that I've watched too many episodes of Bones recently. (This is almost certainly true.)
flying

Tuesday night- wardrobe changes and lawn work

Someone has given me a power that allows me to change my clothes by standing in front of a mirror, imagining the outfit I want, closing my eyes, and nodding my head. It works pretty well, but if I don't concentrate very hard on an entire outfit, I end up with odd results. While thinking about a tank top, I end up with only that and underpants. I try to complete the outfit, but just get a different color top. Another time, I'm in a lacy nightgown and a pair of boots, and try to change into normal clothes, but I am not specific enough about the top and end up with something grey and uncomfortable, with a built-in necktie.

Later, I need to mow Brennan's lawn to prepare for Outdoor PLOJ. The grass is very high, and scattered with golf balls, empty bottles, and various memorabilia from past events I've attended. A bunch of people show up to help me, but they spread rugs across the whole yard and set up living room furniture. I'm annoyed, because I haven't finished mowing yet, and they are in my way. No one pays attention when I try to explain that they are making my job much harder.

Been spending too much time thinking of Overrated Lists

There's a longstanding Baltimore tradition where people dress up like things they think are overrated and then meet in an old church where they undergo mock marriages. I cobble together a costume for Long Eyelashes, mostly consisting of normal clothes and fake eyelashes. The venue is really crowded, mostly with people coming back down the stairs -- it seems to be that you go up, walk down the aisle, and then you're done. When I get up there, they pair me with a short girl with a ponytail, who is being dolled up by the assistants in some kind of gold raincoat. The assistants really love my costume for some reason, but they start making me up as Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas, which I don't think is fair because that's what they think is overrated, not me.

Slightly more reliable than Pony Express

I decide to fact-check the existence of Badger Mail and write it up for Snopes.com. I call "Badger Mail!" out the door of my bedroom. A badger shows up and takes my package, which is wrapped in tissue paper and ribbon so I am a little worried he will tear it with his teeth. I am satisfied that Badger Mail exists and resolve to tell the Snopes people that the myth is true.
flying

Tuesday night: Housesitting and lateness

I am housesitting a lovely and quirky little house, across a field from a larger house where there is a party going on. People from the party (that I know) keep coming over and hanging out in the house, even as I am exploring and settling in. I try to convince them to leave, but no one is paying attention to me.

You can only enter the house from the back door on the ground floor, as the front door is on the second floor and leads out onto a huge beautiful deck area with a glass-domed gazebo-like structure in the center. A person who is sometimes Sharif and sometimes Rob from college keeps explaining to me about the door, even though I already know. I go out to the deck to demonstrate. The door indeed has no handle on the outside, so I prop it open with a miniature wrench that is hanging on the wall just for that purpose.

I have to take care of a chore that involves running across the field to the other house and turning on a water spigot and attaching a hose. Then I have to run back across to the little house and purge the spigots there. These spigots are made of stone and shaped like faces, and I have to turn each one until the mud comes out. There are several of these along one wall of the house. Someone tries to help me by digging out the grout around three of the faces, but I yell at him and he leaves. The mud in these three is the worst of all.

At this point I am late for my gig with ilyAIMY at the Old Bowie Town Grille, so I run to a minivan and get into the back. I search frantically through the suitcase that is in there, because I need socks, and I wait impatiently for my dad to come drive me to the show. I consider driving myself, but I don't know where I am.

Eric the half a dream

The intersection of F St. and 13th St., near my work, has been shut down because they are filming the Eric the Half a Bee movie. John Cleese is playing John Cleese and Jackie Chan is playing Eric, and they're both sort of skipping and bounding around in the intersection. I can't hear any of the dialogue. I'm waiting to cross the street with a large crowd of people. At one point we all break into the "Eric the Half a Bee" song, and I worry that they'll have a hard time scrubbing that audio off the final tape. Finally I get to cross 13th, and as I'm going to cross F I see that Michael Palin and an Asian woman are singing the final theme song for the movie (it's a different song, more loungey). They're filming them but allowing people to walk across the street around them. I have somehow managed to get one arm completely out of my sweater and then tried to put my coat on over it, so I'm all tangled in my outerwear with one bare shoulder sticking out. But I need to get to the Metro, so I try to look dignified as I cross the street, hoping I won't end up on camera.
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shave and a gas leak, two bits

* Michael is attempting to shave before we go somewhere fancy. He is using a large metal spoon. I give him a razor blade that isn't attached to anything, which he uses with moderate success.

* I get out of the shower in my apartment to find that the entire place smells like gasoline. There's a klaxon going off, so I run around trying to find Max. I grab him, put him in the bedroom, and close the door, leaving the window open. I prop open the front door of the apartment (I don't have my key, as I've given it to Cacie both in real life and in dream-life) and run downstairs. The place seems pretty much deserted. By the time I get outside, the alarm has stopped, and so I try to get back in so I can close my door and let the cat out of the bedroom, but I've gone through the wrong door into a building that's half elementary school and half business (possibly a travel agency). I spend a very long time trying to get to my apartment, and then another very long time trying to get out of the building once I figure out it's the wrong one. Eventually I do get out and back to the right place, and am relieved when nothing's been stolen.
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