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I remembered a dream, for once, and this being such a rare ocurrence I'll have to share it with y'all. The dream's part of my, well, series of dreams in which motifs, places re-occur: there's a building which I recognised in the dream as being from a previous dream, which is odd because I thought I'd forgotten the previous one. It's this huge building where I live, because I'm a student at the university there, and I can get in to my room no problem but I can never find it. I think it's on level E, but level E is /expansive/, has possibly hundreds of rooms. Big hotel/apartment complex, this one. My room-mate, who's probably called Mark because he *would* be called Mark, my mind's like that, has a piece of paper which says which room it is on it, but I either lost mine or keep forgetting to make it. And I barely ever see Mark, not least because I tend to sleep in the lounges or others' rooms if I can't find our room, but if I find him I manage to recognise him, though I never think I will, and follow him back to our room. There might have been more room-mates, but I've forgotten them. There's also dream-family-home, where the dream-version of where my aunt and uncle live, which is full of strange places you can play and has this lawn that looks out over a mountain, or something. And there's this way cool barn place that in my last dream featuring the dream-mansion had been converted into a library, and has a run of steps up to it which you can neatly circumvent by following a special route, the end of which sees you almost flying, but only if you're small enough to pull yourself through this tiny window thing. And its got random lofts, and a whole intricate network of rooms and corridors which is damn easy to get lost in. My dreamscapes tend toward the complex and confusing. Still, I tend to recognise the rooms by their overall style, since some are georgian and some modern and some in other styles, so it's easier to find my way around there than halls.
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So me and my parents travelled down to Oxfordshire to see my family there (the side of the family we're closer to, see most often), and all was fine: but then my mother suddenly tells me, proudly, that I'm going to be married in the morning and we'll have to go back to the halls to collect my stuff. Okay, I think, being deep in dream-logic and shock, fair enough. When we get back to halls, my parents are stopped at the door because there's some Important Function going on, so I go on and in, through the department store part (the wool and thread section) and detouring through the kitchens where I get into a service lift. When I get out of the lift at level F (its first stop since ground level) I see Mark in the lounge area. I'm glad it's 2am because otherwise i probbly would have missed Mark back from clubbing, and got lost again. We walk along in silence for a while, until we end up at the far end of the level and appear to have missed the lifts. He makes some joke about my being unable to find our room, I accept it, and we push through some door into the office part of the building. We make a face at one another and turn back to go the way we came, passing the huge burly black blokes who stand in the doors of their rooms, with their backs to us, and laugh at their friends' jokes. We go to our room and I collect my stuff calmly enough, shove it all into a bag, and then I have to go back, and for some reason he comes with me. I've been chatting hysterically at him, and after a brief pause I start again. "Know what *I*'m gonna do?" I always act like a little girl round him, possibly because I'm so aware of the age-gap between us (he's three or four years older, but the gap seems huge like it was when they were fourteen and I was eleven)."What?" "You have to /guess/." "You're getting... " he pauses to think. "You're on the right track... think of a song." "What, like 'I'm Getting Married In The Morning'?" "You got it!"So we end up on the bus, and my parents are sitting ahead of me and I'm leaning across the aisle to chat to my roomate. And by this point the shock has worm away, and I'm grabbing his arm like a clingy little sister and hugging it and crying, because I don't even know who it is I'm marrying and I'm scared. And Mark, bless him, is obviously used to dealing with this needy, ditzy, emotionally confused me, because he puts up with me wailing at him until I compose myself. Once I've done so, my mother turns to make some comment about my "Daddy" and the bus, comprised of students except for my parents, snigger at the word and me along with them (Peer pressure, probably). Mark gets off the bus at some point, and eventually we get to the dream mansion where my uncle and aunt live. We probably sleep at this point - I'm not sure. Anyway, next thing it's morning and I try on my wedding dress over my combats and it fits really well, probably even suits me even though white isn't my colour. So I wander over to the main building to get told how nice it looks and look at the main hall where the table's been pushed back and food's being brought from the kitchen and laid out. And then I take a ramble inside the corridors you can get lost in, and end up on a ledge above a load of people from year 9 of school, people who I didn't actively dislike but weren't among my social group. I know they're from year 9 because Jana, who left at the beginning of year 10, is there. They must be there to visit the museum in the library that used to be the barn I flew in. So I trade a couple of words with them, bored, standing on the ledge above their heads in a white wedding dress over ripped-up green combats, and then wander back down to floor level. I stop outside the room with the computer in it and decide not to go in because I can hear voices, male voices of my second cousins who I don't really know. At this point I realise that I am fourteen years old. The old superstition of not seeing your prospective husband's face on his wedding day suddenly occurs to me, and I realise that I'm going to marry one of the second cousins I don't know. I start thinking about divorce: if I fall in love with someone else once I'm married, I decide, I can always get one. Although then I won't be able to get married in a church. This despite that fact that I don't quite approve of church weddings since they're overpriced and tend toward the tacky: hell, this despite the fact that I don't quite approve of marriage. Downstairs, I have to avoid playing with the dogs as I'd like because I'm afraid of getting stains on my wedding dress. I start worrying about whether or not I brought white socks, although it doesn't occur to me that with the current state of my shoe collection I'd be getting married in DMs anyway. I'm on my way back to the wing of the house where my room is, when my aunt catches up with me and reminds me that i don't have the key to get in. She walks with me over there, on the way we pass a mountaineer, victorian-looking, in hiking boots with long socks pulled right up to the knee of his corduroy trousers, who wants to go onto the lawn over the mounains and then into the pastures where there are sheep... ...and *then* i woke up. i think my subconscious is making up for all the dreams i've lost or never had by giving me a huge great epic instead. I quake in fear.
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