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dragonlady7strange dream indeed.
am disappointed i slept so late, though. will never fix schedule. bah.
pardon typos. can't see screen properly.
I dreamed I went to London to visit Ursula.
I arrived and she wasn't home, so I let myself in and went up to her ultrachic high-rise ultramodern apartment in a converted old warehouse. (Go figure.) I was puttering around, enjoying myself and apparently redecorating (Uh, why not?), and then I noticed there was a second storey, so I went upstairs to the unfinished second floor, which was much more finished than our unfinished second floor, and decided it was a good place to plug in the humidifier. (Sure, why not?) I did so, and noticed that there was a spare bathroom up there. I thought, she ought to know about this. Then I noticed the door to the other apartment, and concluded that a family lived next door. I promptly forgot about this.
Then someone started playng a piano. I walked past an open doorway, and the person in the other apartment, a pretty twenty-or-thirtysomething woman with wild curly hair, caught sight of me and smiled at me. Shy, I kept moving so she couldn't see me anymore. But in a few moments she and another woman came over and introduced themselves and invited me back to their apartment, where a party was in progress.
Their apartment was a loft, huge, with a stained-glass roof and windows. "Cool," I said, and the woman shrugged noncommittally, saying it wasn't all that cool. It was arched and domed and leaded and reminded me of something that I saw pictures of in the slide library when I worked there, some exhibition building in Britain that was mostly glass.
At the top of a high rise? Well, dreams don't keep track of these things.
So then the party was in full swing, and then-- amazingly-- there was Ursula, who apparently hadn't been home to greet me because she was here. She saw me and instead of greeting me proceeded to give the entire party a lecture on how I was under her protection and they weren't to sexually prey upon me. Only then did she greet me, and my brain, possibly revolting from the weirdness of the lecture, made sure it was a suitably appropriately enthusiastic greeting with hugs and the like. And that was very nice.
And I had time to gently reprimand her for being so cruel as to leave me a message on my blog saying that she was "back in the world of the computered" and would be much more in contact, and then never speaking to me again. ^.^ (This part is true. The comment in question is here and I rediscovered it yesterday, and it is probably what is behind my dreaming of this at all.)
But then she proceeded to follow me around the party and carefully fend off people who wanted to hit on me, which was very odd.
And I woke, realizing that I have to be at a funeral in 35 minutes and I haven't showered and the shower is in use, and now am continually confused because it was just so satisfying to see her again and see her characteristic amused-sheepish-guilt realization that she had so totally been wrong when she left that comment, that I am unable thusfar to adjust to the fact that the incident never, in fact, happened.
Very sad. I e-mailed her again but naturally, have had no response. Sigh.
But mostly-- my subconscious is a weird, weird place.
Crap, I have to be dressed now.
am disappointed i slept so late, though. will never fix schedule. bah.
pardon typos. can't see screen properly.
I dreamed I went to London to visit Ursula.
I arrived and she wasn't home, so I let myself in and went up to her ultrachic high-rise ultramodern apartment in a converted old warehouse. (Go figure.) I was puttering around, enjoying myself and apparently redecorating (Uh, why not?), and then I noticed there was a second storey, so I went upstairs to the unfinished second floor, which was much more finished than our unfinished second floor, and decided it was a good place to plug in the humidifier. (Sure, why not?) I did so, and noticed that there was a spare bathroom up there. I thought, she ought to know about this. Then I noticed the door to the other apartment, and concluded that a family lived next door. I promptly forgot about this.
Then someone started playng a piano. I walked past an open doorway, and the person in the other apartment, a pretty twenty-or-thirtysomething woman with wild curly hair, caught sight of me and smiled at me. Shy, I kept moving so she couldn't see me anymore. But in a few moments she and another woman came over and introduced themselves and invited me back to their apartment, where a party was in progress.
Their apartment was a loft, huge, with a stained-glass roof and windows. "Cool," I said, and the woman shrugged noncommittally, saying it wasn't all that cool. It was arched and domed and leaded and reminded me of something that I saw pictures of in the slide library when I worked there, some exhibition building in Britain that was mostly glass.
At the top of a high rise? Well, dreams don't keep track of these things.
So then the party was in full swing, and then-- amazingly-- there was Ursula, who apparently hadn't been home to greet me because she was here. She saw me and instead of greeting me proceeded to give the entire party a lecture on how I was under her protection and they weren't to sexually prey upon me. Only then did she greet me, and my brain, possibly revolting from the weirdness of the lecture, made sure it was a suitably appropriately enthusiastic greeting with hugs and the like. And that was very nice.
And I had time to gently reprimand her for being so cruel as to leave me a message on my blog saying that she was "back in the world of the computered" and would be much more in contact, and then never speaking to me again. ^.^ (This part is true. The comment in question is here and I rediscovered it yesterday, and it is probably what is behind my dreaming of this at all.)
But then she proceeded to follow me around the party and carefully fend off people who wanted to hit on me, which was very odd.
And I woke, realizing that I have to be at a funeral in 35 minutes and I haven't showered and the shower is in use, and now am continually confused because it was just so satisfying to see her again and see her characteristic amused-sheepish-guilt realization that she had so totally been wrong when she left that comment, that I am unable thusfar to adjust to the fact that the incident never, in fact, happened.
Very sad. I e-mailed her again but naturally, have had no response. Sigh.
But mostly-- my subconscious is a weird, weird place.
Crap, I have to be dressed now.
