Subconsciousness Unfurled

I always have these weird, random dreams, anymore.

Last night, I dreamed that I was over at my friend Chad's mom's house (which, in my dream, was a different house). There were several different scenarios throughout the dream, but the part I'm most confused about is the one I'm about to disclose. (Chad, remind me to tell you the part about the ashes as well as the part about you cutting my hair because Liz told you to do it. lol)

It was really strange; I was sitting on the couch, talking on my cell phone (I have no idea who I was talking to). There were a couple of children in the living room with me (I think they were Chad's nephews), and Chad and his sister were walking around me, doing random things throughout my phone conversation, like picking up toys, looking through a catalog, etc.

I hung up my cell, still holding it in my hand, and said something random to one of the kids in the living room. All of a sudden, I noticed smoke coming out from my phone. At first, I thought it must have just been my imagination, but I kept a close eye on it, and sure enough, it kept smoking more and more. The face started to pop off my phone and it started to freak me out, so I tossed it to the floor, gaping. I hollered for someone, anyone, to come, but no one seemed to notice that I was calling for help.

The flame leaped out, growing taller with each cry. My voice was shaking now, I was screaming for someone to bring me a fire extinguisher, I even begged with, "Pleeeaaase!"

No one budged.

Now desperate, my eyes frantically searched for another solution. I saw a towel resting on the back of a chair in the dining area, so I rushed over to it, snatched it up, and raced back to the fire, which had, by now, grown to knee-height and about two feet in diameter. I carefully laid the towel over it (the children were now watching as they leaned over the back of the couch) and started stomping out the fire. The fire capered; the flames darted around the edges of the worn towel. I bent down and folded another section of the towel over the rest of the flames and gravely stomped the rest of the flames out. When I realized the flames were no more, I carefully stepped back, still eyeballing the beat-up towel.

I then scampered around the corner, where I found Chad's sister, my voice shaking even more: "What were you doing?! Why didn't you come help me?" Not willing to wait for an answer, I grabbed her wrist to lead her to the fire site, as I frantically explained what had happened. When we got there, I clumsily tore the towel away from the fire. We stared in awe at the blackened circle where taupe carpet once had been. The look on her face showed shock, and I started crying.

Now, you know how dreams are - they race - and that sounds like a lot to happen in a dream, but my dreams are almost always like that (very detailed). When I first wake up, I can tell detail after detail about them. But I always wonder what made me dream a certain dream. I wonder even more about what my dreams mean.

I wonder what this one means? Do you think that maybe it means that I loathe my cell phone company? (Because I do :) ) Do you think it might mean that I talk on my phone and text way more than I should, and that's why it started smoking in the first place? Or do you think that it means something deeper, like maybe I need to always make sure I'm in a position to solve my own problems?

Whatever it means, I know that these strange, detailed dreams won't cease for a while; I always have them when something important is coming up, or when something drastic happens in my life.

Sweet dreams, all...

Feeling Seoulful

So...how do you pack for a year when venturing to a country that doesn't have a lot of what you might need...? I'm slowly catching on, thank goodness, while I'm on this side of the world.

Aside from the research I've done on the 'net, I've also got human resources dipping their hand into the Help-Catie Basket. The most recent being D. (I don't know how "private" I should be on this public blog, so just in case, I won't disclose his full name. Paranoid? Possibly...)

A guy from Burlington, who was a couple-to-few years ahead of me in school, D. (I graduated with his brother), has been in South Korea for about two years, teaching English. I don't know him all that well - what I remember most about him was how ridiculously intelligent he was (is), and just as nice. Not a bad contact to have, 'eh? :)

At any rate, I have been able to get a hold of him via Cyberland. I'll give a quick run-down on what he has told me, thus far.

First, he hates Seoul. Grrreat. ;) I haven't pried the reasons out of him yet, but I'm sure that will come, with time. I, myself, hate - oops, Mrs. Price doesn't like that word - abhor big cities, so I am fully aware that Seoul may leave a bad taste in my mouth, in that respect. I can live with that.

He did suggest that I purchase a scooter ("You can get a decent one for about 500 bucks.") to save money in my transportation envelope, but one of the things I ha- ...er, despise, most about large cities is the drivers. Why would I do that to myself, especially on two wheels instead of four? We'll see how public transportation treats me, first. :)

He also told me to stock up on deodorant, cold meds, allergy meds, and...(thank you for this information, D.) tampons! It did cross my mind to take a year's worth of my choice of such. (...As a flashback of my trip to Ireland surged through my head, when I did not prepare for such an occurrence. When I got one out of the vending machine in the bathroom of a local pub, I felt like I was playing with a Rubiks Cube in the bathroom stall.) But then I nixed that thought with a big, fat, red X, telling myself, "You're ridiculous." Now, thanks to D., I will have to take an extra suitcase full of those cotton stick thingies. ;) lol. (T.M.I. for some of you, I know, but this is my blog, so deal...)

I'd heard about soju, thinking, "Oh, I bet that's a pleasant-tasting rice wine of some sort. That might be nice to try..." Here's what D. had to say: "The beer is terrible and rather expensive unless you drink it by the pitcher in bars. Soju is the Devil's work and should be consumed only if you're broke. It's a cheap alcohol and even more cheaply distilled which means it will cripple your brain." Kudos to D.; the last thing I need to have in a country of which I barely speak the language and, at this point, have no working knowlege of the area in which I'll be living, is a crippled brain.

I know I can be a sissy sometimes, but I will admit that as the days flutter away from me, and my departure date creeps up on me, my gut gets a little tighter and tighter. You have no idea how much tension it eased to receive that email from D., especially when he gave his phone number and offered to meet me when I get there, to have a "tete a tete." What a standup guy, 'eh? I want to tell my former principal that he was right: Chivalry is not dead. :) (D. will be in Chuncheon, South Korea, through the beginning of Oct., so that gives me about a month to have a contact so I can easily settle.) Phew.

Until the next time...