Dream Update: Mexican Birthday Party (November 13, 2008)

Dream

(Skipping the first half of the dream) I found myself exercising in Redmond, WA. I decided to run on a circular track around the residential streets surrounding Meadow Park. The only thing covering me was a hand towel for my front front and a matching wash cloth tucked into the hand towel for my back. As I ran up east side Meadow Park hill there appeared to be a major drug bust going on or something because the streets were swimming with cops. I acted casual and they didn't seem to even notice me as they converged upon a single location with weapons drawn. Once the shooting started however, I decided it would be wise to turn around jog back to

I made it back to my car that was parked along a side neighborhood and took it flying off of education hill around 116th and the Hilton's house. There was a secret, makeshift ramp built of dirt that I used to fly hundreds of yards (if not miles) through the air into an arid swampland that I didn't even know existed.

I smashed into the ground, destroying the undercarriage of the car. The engine may or may not have fallen out. Fortunately, as the car slowed down, it reached the edge of civilization and ran nose first into an open-air Red Robin restaurant. The wheels rolled right over the edge of the retaining wall and lodged itself in an isle way between two tables. The space was so minuscule in the front and back, it was impossible to budge the car. I made the best of the situation by ditching the car and getting out an finding some old friends that I saw had just been seated at the Red Robin.

Soon, more and more friends started joining us at the table. Even Dad made it to the table. Out of the blue, Dad told one of my Provo friends that her hair was ugly... She got really mad and silently skulked off to refill her drink. During her absence, I told Dad that just because he had opinion of someones hair didn't make it a reality and that she was a hair stylist by trade and that it was impolite to disrespect what style she liked.

Soon, the crowd grew restless and kept saying that they could only stay a minute more before they all had to go to my birthday celebration. Through continued conversation, I discovered that the party was being held a few miles down the road at an auditorium at the Mexican Disneyland. (We're now in Mexico.)

The yellow auditorium bleachers were filled with friends: old R3 members, EFY counselors from California (all in green EFY shirts; I'm guessing, it was a weekend trip for them), and random Mexicans that I had never seen before. The seats were surprisingly filled to 60% capacity. I had no idea I knew so many people.

We all waited in our seats for 20 minutes until 6pm, when the party flier said the festivities would begin. We all expected a great show. When the curtain opened however, there stood a some-what-groomed, local caretaker with a list of announcements at the microphone. He bumbled and drew out the time telling jokes that only he, himself, understood. It felt like he was stalling. So I took matters into my own hands an went up to quickly recite the rest of the "necessary" announcements from the old man. Just as I was about to finish one sheet, a stranger from the audience would rush down the stairs, reach over the railing and hand me another few pages of "essential" announcement.

Things were getting boring. There wasn't even any lights or background music to keep things interesting. I started skipping some. The old man brought me a glass of water and I drank from it, starting to feel the dry, Mexican air creep into my lungs. Moments later, I began to choke and gasp for air. THE WATER WAS POISONED! Or maybe I was just having a reaction to the typical drinking water they serve in Mexico. Either way, I was incapacitated and hand the mic back to the old man.

I glanced at my watch and it said 6:45pm! The auditorium was only reserved until 7:30! At this rate, there would be no time for the entertainment! My party was DOOMED! We had to take immediate, improvisational action.

Through the coughing and gasping, I managed to reclaim the mic and communicate the following instructions to the crowd. "Take your clothes off and mix and match them with people from a different country!" The crowd seemed to like the idea. Soon there were girls in sombreros and boots and old, fat, Mexican men in tiny EFY shirts. It was hilarious and everyone loved it. Meanwhile, the announcer was spouting off more announcements. We played EFY get-to-know you games in the stair ways and sooner than expected, the clock struck 7:30pm and the announcer asked us all to leave. Everyone filed out, content that they would be leaving with exotic souvenirs to take back home.

(Then I woke up to a phone call.)