| I'm standing in my old Geometry classroom at the back of the room. Everyone else in the room is taking a big, important math test. It's dead silent, except for the background music that the teacher is playing. Mrs. Wilson (said teacher) is in front of the class, at her desk, checking papers. I'm standing at the back of the room facing the side wall, along with a few other people. I'm in line to buy tacos. (Right there is the first confusing element of this dream…tacos?) I'm chatting with another gal. (An amalgamation of quite a few female Al fans I know…I'll call her Alberta.) As we chat and complement the music (Another One Rides the Bus) a third girl comes up. She waits in line with us for a few minutes, listens to us praising the music and generally chatting about Al-related news (including his next AL-bum and his impending marriage). She then tells us that she's going to go speak to the manager. "Oh great. She's gonna make them turn the music off!" Alberta and I watch in horror as she goes up to Mrs. Wilson and murmurs something very quietly. Mrs. Wilson looks up, smiles sweetly, nods, reaches over to the stereo and CRANKS IT. The song is blaring out of the stereo at five times concert volume. The kids taking the test look up briefly, shrug, and return to the tests. The girl comes back to the line and we all start chatting about Al. Eventually, Alberta and I make our way to the front of the line, and are told to wash our hands before we order our tacos. We wash our hands in one of those big industrial stainless-steel sinks and head back to the front of the line. After ordering our tacos, we leave the classroom and wander to the cafeteria, still chatting. (Alberta and I covered every topic concerning Al known to man-song lyrics, choreography, awards, music videos, you name it. We even chatted a bit about the rest of the band…the Mexican Elvis was mentioned, as was why Jon is called Bermuda. This is a good four-five hours of talking going on here.) We eat the tacos, and then, after visiting the library (and Al's site) we call it a day, and I go home. As soon as I get there, I head into my bedroom and start up the computer. "I think I'll play the Sims again," I say to myself, starting it up. The game bypasses the whole tedious "loading" stage (They didn't even bother to reticulate the splines!) and goes straight to an empty house, occupied by one guy. Al. It even looked like him. (He had on a mostly red and orange Hawaiian shirt, and for once in these dreams, his hair was long.) He waved at me. I waved back (for some reason-I mean, hey, this is only a game, right? And those Sims are always waving about something) and started buying him furniture and stuff. In the game, the first day you set someone up in their new abode, a whole horde of neighbors come over and eat your food, play with stuff, and make friends with you. Al was getting into the swing of things, saying "hi" to all my little creations, when suddenly, he ran off into a room by himself and flopped on his bed. I zoomed in on him, and he was all curled up on his bed, staring at the wall. I checked all of his little "status bars"…everything was green. I started talking to the computer. More specifically, to Al. "What's wrong, Al?" He looked up at me and his little "thought bubble" flashed the "Social" sign. (It looks like two people talking.) He turned away from me and curled into an even tighter ball on the bed. I reached out to tap him on the shoulder, and as I touched him, I got sucked into the game. Literally. I stand there, in the Simroom, looking at SimAl curled up on the bed. (For the curious, we now looked like our normal selves, as opposed to the way the Sims appear.) I walk over to him and tap him. He sits up alarmedly, sees it's only me, curls back up, and does a doubletake. Leaping off the bed, he stands in front of me and starts asking me "How?…How?…" "I don't know." But, looking at the menu (which only I can see) it shows me as a member of the household. (The Sim face even looked like mine...long strawberry blonde hair and all.) After I relay the pertinent bits of this information to Al, he accepts it with an "Okay…" and we head out to socialize. After making pals with several of the Sims (except one named Ms. Pleasant, who was most definitely NOT) we decide to have a slumber party. I was standing in front of my closet, deciding what to wear (the green pajamas or the green pajamas) when Al strolled on in from the bathroom in Hawaiian boxers and an old white Tshirt. "Hey, Al? You wanna put on some pajamas?" "No, these're fine." "Are you sure?" "Well, okay." And he did the little Sim-spin the "real" Sims do when they change clothes. So, clad in our official Simjamas-green for me, blue for him, we head out to the crowd in the living room and play improv games until one in the morning, when we all crowded together in our sleeping bags and went to sleep. And then I woke up with a pillow over my face, mumbling "It's time to get up, Al. There's school." (Good thing I'm the only one that heard me. That's a bit hard to explain to the folks.) My Take On It Next Dream |
| I Dream Of SimAl With The Long Brown Hair... 01/29/01 |