Festival of Winds
Emmy and Gaby
Thursday, April 24, 2003
Another dream that is the essence of randomness:
It starts off in a parking lot. Its me, Andy, a girl who may or may not be his wife, and their son. There is also at least 3 other people, one of whom is also named Andrew. We are all supposed to take some kind of statistics test. The woman who comes to administer it is Asian, and it is going to be done individually. Somehow it turns into some sort of battle for Andy, fought with sticks. His son goes and hides in a thicket so he can later get a jump on the winner if it is not his dad. Then me and the 3 others are called to take it in pairs, although the order is unclear, cause one Andrew is in each pair, and it is not distinguished which one is supposed to be in which group. As we are walking towards her, I see a copy of the test sitting on top of a van (which I can somehow look down upon easily) and see the first question answered. The scene changes. I am now at a restaurant. This restaurant happens to be in the location of my apartment, and I am sitting in a booth that coresponds roughly to right in the middle of my kitchen sink. I eat my meal, still apparently waiting for a statistics test. The bill comes to $2.62 or $2.63, and I agonize for what seems to be a long time on whether to leave a 50 or 60 cent tip. After deciding on the 50 cent tip (after writing 60 on my copy and then changing it to 50 on the one they get). Then a waitress comes by and tells me that some woman is waiting in the bathroom to give me the stat test. I say I will go in a minute, but first I look at a form that is for tickets of some kind to Northwestern theatre. I fill out the form, and put it in an envelope, only to realize later that I forgot to check that I was a student and have to rip it open. As I finish that, the woman comes to my table, and starts talking to me. Statistics seems to have gone by the wayside, as now she wants to follow me around, and get my modern perspective on slavery. She will take pictures of me, and wants to incorporate my story into a play she is writing, which will pop between the past and the present, and deal with the issue of slavery. The play will be written in Latin. We move out onto the stairwell otuside my apartment/restaurant and continue talking as the dream slowly fades away...
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