Dream Fragments

This morning, I only remembered fragments of my dreams, not a full storyline.

I was in some small town, everyone dressing old fashioned, like the 1600s or something. Someone gave the news that the whole world had been taken over by some kind of mind control. This town was the last holdout, and didn't stand a chance, because it was the only one. I was trying to get away with some others on a small old fashioned ship. There was a town across the bay. I recognized buildings from Venice, Italy, but they called the town something else. All the spaces on the edge of town had been filled in with brick buildings, and there was no end to the development. Somehow this confirmed what I had been told. There was an island in the middle of the bay we were trying to get to.

I was building toy train tracks. It was somehow relevant to real life- a real train getting through or something. Someone else was trying to take them apart. It was imperative that I build a complete track.

I was with a friend in a train station, trying to get somewhere before specific time. We needed to get something that was in high demand, and would run out almost immediately. All the trains that get there in time are sold out. We decide to take one that gets there 9 minutes late. Another guy who just tried to get a ticket glares at us like we're cheating because we didn't give up on getting there.

Someone mentioned someone's gramma selling an old tablecloth at consignment store. I went to look at it; heard the other person saying something about weird names on it. I looked at the edges. It was octagonal, and on each side was an old fashioned girls name starting with E. Edith, Emily, Ethel, Edie... There were multiple sets of matching tablecloth, table runner, and placemats. There was a green one I was considering. I pulled out the table runner. It was really stiff, and the material was like waterproof. I was thinking that maybe it would be useful if I had a baby, but it's kind of weird for a table runner. Then I saw it had two layers, and the underside had plastic pockets for sorting photographs, and there were little paper notes in there from the previous owner, like save, store, sort, play with.

I was at someone's house. People from my childhood were there. Everyone went into the living room. A childhood friend was sitting in front of a birthday cake. We sing to her. She blows out the single candle. She is sick and grumpy and doesn't want to talk to anyone. I wonder how far away from where she blew they will give out the cake, whether people will eat germy cake.

Then the focus turns to another friend. Her parents have some sort of surprise location to bring us to. I notice an old friend has written notes in a notepad about her day tomorrow. Two events- church and one other event that she was going to skip, thus enabling her to come out tonight. The secret event was some place climbing up a steep ramp, holding onto a rope. We were taking turns doing this. About my third time going up, I realize it is a modeling photo shoot, and I've been wearing my winter jacket. My photo will never be chosen. Ask if I can take it off. It is my last chance. I try to climb up the rope looking sexy, but it is a weird angle, and I don't know how.