A brief description of a dream that I had the other night. I was down in Delaware, for a combination book fair and theater festival. Friends of mine from my college theater group were there -- Sharon, Bill, Karen, and Sharon's husband, Drew -- and we were all staying in various dorms. I was in a room with a cot squeezed between two twin beds, but I don't know who my roommates were.
Anyway, because this was Delaware, everyone spoke French. And I kept on having to go to the Delaware embassy to get my passport, because I had forgotten it, and just had an old, photocopied ID. I wouldn't be able to get back into New Jersey with that! So every day, I would float down to the embassy and ask if my passport had arrived.
That's right: because I didn't have my passport, I could fly. My understanding is, once I got my passport, I'd have to walk around like everyone else. But as it was, I was learning to fly, more of a floaty bobbing in air than anything directed, often overshooting the balcony I was trying to land on and setting down on the one above or below. And then having to use the stairs.
So I get back from my trip to the embassy, and float into my room, and everyone is there, having beers because it's 11am and I just missed the last performance of their play. So we had a little cast party in my borrowed dorm.
I don't have the slightest idea what any of this means, particularly since we were speaking French. When in Delaware, after all...
ETA: Photo copyright John Neel.