Friday, May 20, 2005

Half-baked halfpipe 

In my dream I am hanging out with hippie college kids. It’s something that has been known to happen in real life (I live near Athens, Georgia, after all), but this is not Athens. It’s a ski resort town. I think it is Spring Break. It’s crowded everywhere and there are lines to get in, especially where drinks are sold (which seems to be everywhere).

There is a party at one bar/venue/ski resort, but my friend and I break away for a while to go snowboarding. It’s been a really long time since I snowboarded, and even at my best I was totally black and blue from crashing so often, but miraculously I am pretty good at it this time. I carve down the slope in the almost-melted fake snow, never falling. That’s a good thing in retrospect, because I’m wearing some kind of funky 1970s knitwear, not proper snow pants or a parka.

But then again, it’s not cold. There's a lot in this dream that doesn't really make sense.

After my first snowboarding success, I go back to the party and try to convince my friend Candy to go down the slope with me, but she can’t remember how and hasn’t got any gear. Finally she smiles sweetly and says she’ll see if she can do it.

I get carded everywhere we go--it’s the doormen’s job, after all--but most of the people who work at the bars/venues/ski resorts seem to know me. It’s a formality. They know I’m turning 35 next week. Nevertheless it's a problem when Candy and I arrive at the gates of the ski slope and I discover that the previous place has kept my driver’s license and credit card. It takes me a while to figure this out, because I seem to have thousands of cards in my purse. But none of them are anything more than grocery store discount cards.

I fight my way through the crowds until I find an acquaintance working the door. “I’ll be back,” I explain. “Someone stole my ID at the last place.”

I am on my way back to reclaim my ID when I wake up.

[by Jamie]

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