| I am in the halls of Central Middle School after an Al concert. (Incidentally, Al, if you ever feel like performing at Muscatine, you are more than welcome.) At this point, I’m trying to find the spot where they’re selling Tshirts, because it’s my goal to get a shirt from every concert I attend. So I wander around for a good three hours (since when did Central install a labyrinth???), getting really frustrated. I eventually figure that everyone will have left by now, it being midnight or so, and head outside (which took about two seconds.) I’m waiting for my mom to pick me up-and waiting…and waiting…and then a blue pickup truck pulls up and the driver informs me that he’s “gonna give me a ride home.” I check his ID several times-he’s a sheriff, and I read his badge, his shirt patches, license plates, and eventually I get around to believing him, and jump in. Then I fell asleep. I wake up (still in the dream) in the backseat of our van. We pull to a halt in front of a huge building. This building is my school. Let me rephrase that. This building is my dream-school. Let me rephrase this once more. It's a NIGHTMARE school. It’s a conglomeration of Mulberry Elementary, West Middle School, Muscatine High School, and (pardon my language) the torture-campus from HELL. Right. So, I head on in to my first class. The classroom has disappeared off the face of the earth. It’s not there. So I go to keyboarding. After climbing six flights of stairs, I get to the door, only to find a sign on it: Keyboarding has been moved to the bleachers. So I go back downstairs, out to the field, and climb up the bleachers. These bleachers are six stories high, full of large holes, and rickety as if it was made out of toothpicks. I climb all the way up to the top to find the computers strewn about with kids busily typing away. The problem is, I’ve never seen any of these kids before. My teacher tells me to go on down to Colorguard and to hurry-I’m late. So I go as fast as I can down the steps (fearing for my life, should I fall) and run to the locker rooms, where I put on my purple velvet Colorguard uniform and race to the field. I get in the block and start doing basics with the band. (To all you non-marching band people: block=formation of marchers, basics=basic marching moves called at random that the band must comply with.) The line behind me is furious at me because I was late. So the next time we go forward, they start to run. So I start to run (pretty, like I’m supposed to.) They run faster, I run faster, and then the line behind me cuts me right out of the formation. | | | normal to | \ | that to | | | that again, but when that middle line flattened back out, the end person got between me and my line and shoved me away. Then they all ran away. I threw up my hands and went back to the locker rooms. The football team was practicing that morning, practicing their tackles. Guess who they tackled? Yep. Ow. I got so ticked off (after being frustrated for a good four hours) that the next time one came near me, I kicked him. Hard. I’m sure you can guess where. Leaving the big, burly man whimpering on the ground, (that felt goooood….) I changed into my civilian clothing and went back into the torture campus. Then everyone I know comes up to me and basically insults me to the point where I’m trying very hard not to cry, but it isn’t working. And I still don’t know where the smeg I’m supposed to be. I meet up with Amanda (who, for some reason, doesn’t hate me) and we walk outside for a while-going to class. We walk around the parking lot (Mulberry) and see my dad, who tells us to get to class. We head inside the door (Central) and down the hallway (West) to the art room (torture campus). It’s packed with little kids who have to make a perfect orange painted snowman, otherwise they don’t get to leave-ever. So Amanda starts helping a little girl paint hers. The little girl wanted to put a purple bowtie on it, and that was a one-way ticket to staying there for eternity. Amanda was persuading her not to. I was occupied with trying to get to class, so I left her there and decided to go to choir. I get to the hallway in front of the door-with some more insults-and discover a Walkman on me. I hit a button, and it starts playing shatter-rock really loudly. Everyone can hear it. I’m frantically pushing buttons, trying to turn it off, and I can hear my choir teacher in there threatening to kick “the idiot with the Walkman” out. I’m reduced to ripping it apart and pulling wires when some kids show me a “really neat computer game”. It’s a handheld maze game, where you’re maneuvering this car at high speeds through a maze filled with birds. If these slow-flying birds hit you, your car exploded and you lost. I was enthralled with this, until I remembered the Walkman, and the expulsion threats, and I went back to destroying it-and then I woke up. This was a very unhappy dream, what with all the insulting, and the wandering, and the threats. Did I mention I reeeally don't like being late? And I didn’t even get to see the concert! : ( My Take On It Next Dream |
| A Campus Here, A Campus There... 12/24/00 NIGHTMARE |