Hate and Orange

MORNING OF APRIL 27, 2008

First I remember driving some place in a van that was not my own (I think possibly it was supposed to belong to my workplace). I've never driven a van, and in the dream I was having a little trouble getting used to it. Someone was in the passenger seat. I don't remember who they were, but I remember that they talked a lot.

Between the distraction of their talking and my being uncomfortable driving the van, I nearly ran off the road at one point into a guardrail, but was able to correct in time.

Next I remember walking through a series of hallways that looked like they belonged in a school, though they were very wide and actually had businesses in them, so it was like a city street contained in a hallway.

I was walking with a fictional middle-aged couple and their two little boys who were probably each somewhere around 9 or 10 years old. We passed one of the room-businesses in the hall which bore a hanging sign over the door that said "The Church of Hate".

There was a middle-aged couple with two young boys entering into the Church of Hate--the family almost perfectly mirrored the family I was hanging out with, though they were distinct individuals. They saw us and immediately began making derisive, hateful comments about us.

The hate-mother said something especially nasty about one of the regular-mother's sons, and the regular-mother just snapped and physically attacked the hate-mother. (In hindsight the regular-mother kind of reminds me of Mrs. Weasley in the Harry Potter books, the way she was so fiercely protective of her family. The hate-mother was kind of like Kathy Bates in Misery).

The regular-husband soon broke up the fight and the hate-family went on into their church, but not before the mother barked a warning that we'd all pay, or something to that effect.

Then I made my way to a classroom, and was late. I took the only open seat left and listened to the lesson. We were supposed to all write a paragraph inspired by the word, "orange". (In real life I'm working on a series of art with my characters, Jenn & Bueno, in which each piece is inspired by a color--and orange is the only one to stump me so far).

People then had to get up and read theirs. I read mine--I can't remember what it was about, but I remember it was pitiful. The teacher then reminded me that I hadn't followed all of whatever rules we were supposed to use for this essay anyway.

A girl sitting in a desk to my right read hers next. I really liked it, and it reminded me of all the things mine should have been. We she sat back down, we talked about it. She was really shy, but cute.

Then I had to go to the restroom, so I left the class. When I was in the hallway, I crossed paths with the hate-mother. She got up in my face and was spewing all kinds of vitriol. I was trying my best to just ignore her and get away, but she kept following me.

Then I somehow came into an open common area amid the hallways where many people were gathered. I saw the shy girl from the class. She was wearing a green coat and skirt, along with pair of tall, high-heeled boots that were rather sexy, but had a very strange, unlikely design. They weren't so much "boots", as just high-heel shoes with a series of thick, leather straps wrapped horizontally at intervals around the leg up to the knee, with one long strap running vertically down the side to connect all the horizontals, the final connection being made at the heel of the shoe.

There was some other dream that was separate from all of the rest in which someone was in my apartment showing me a gun. They began randomly firing it--inside my apartment--to show me how it worked. I was freaking out--not for my safety, because I knew they wouldn't shoot me with it (at least not on purpose)--but because of all the bullet-holes and damage it was causing in my home.