2001-04-11 :: 10:01 a.m.
Umbrellas, in one of the dreams, was my preferred mode of transportation, a la Mary Poppins. Except instead of flying upwards, the umbrella would drag me horizontally across city streets. Ouch. So I'm in a skirt, getting dragged on my back down 7th Avenue, and a bunch of beefy guys start whistling and making nasty comments. And one of them goes, "You need to step into my ride, baby!" And he busts out with a gold umbrella that carries him and his boys vertically up to the sky.
In the next dream, I was in a house full of opened umbrellas. And I was trying to get to a room, but all those fucking umbrellas were just on the floor, opened, everywhere. I would try to close them to clear some kind of a path, but they just kept popping right back open and tripping me. It was like a deleted scene from Alice in Wonderland.
I need to stop eating pickles before bed time.