Thursday, June 20, 2013

Worthless Money

I took a motorboat ride for an hour or so to have a break from taking care of the kids. Stopped at a casino / mall / amusement park before coming back. Decided to get the kids some popcorn and bring it back. Paid my money, but the popcorn machines had just been turned off for the night. Couldn't get a refund, and all the rest of my money had been turned into tokens that only worked at the park. The boat, it turned out, was also the park's, and they were also being retired for the night. I was stuck with no way to get back to the kids. I didn't even have money for a bus fare. Asked people and park workers for help, but they answered variously wearily or angrily; everyone else was in a worse situation than I was. Finally I stomped my feet in frustration and woke up.

Six weeks later, I had a dream with a similar theme (another stress-dream about my money being made worthless): I was at a convenience store, trying to buy something small. The woman behind the counter, who was very nice but wasn't a great English speaker, was having trouble accepting my credit card. I remember reading out the numbers very slowly and carefully for her. Then she smiled and handed me a receipt: she had charged my ENTIRE credit card and changed it into store credit! I freaked out, protesting loudly, but it sounded as though nothing could be done...

Woke up a bit and then fell back asleep. I had a flying car, I think, but my main concern was dashing around doing a bunch of errands.

Saturday, June 15, 2013

Eavesdropping on Generations

Four rooms.

Alison and I were in one, having an intense discussion about what to pack (I think? Something relatively minor -- we weren't upset, just trying to figure out the best thing to do).

In the next room my father and Emily's sister Jillian were talking about the fact that he had gotten her pregnant, and now she was getting an abortion, and he wasn't happy about it at all. This was where most of my attention kept going, because they were literally in the next room and there was no door we could close. She was calm and determined, he was subdued but frustrated and upset, saying he would pay for everything, if she'd just keep the child secret...

In the third room I think was... I forget who -- Biff, Melanie, Charles, Diane? Boomers, anyway. Also arguing, about something pretty important, I forget what, but it was pretty angry and sad. We could (and did) close that door.

And in the fourth room, asleep but somehow listening to all the others, was Granny.

One note: Jillian is married to Brian Tysinger, who is almost certainly a distant cousin of mine, and of my father's. He has the same thick black hair as all the Tysingers, and my father, and his mother (Dorothy Tysinger).