Analyze this dream

The subject of my dreams.

As I’ve made known in the past, on more than one occasion, I’m a huge fan of Jurassic Park. Read the two articles I just linked to in my last sentence (or not, if you aren’t in the mood to), and if you still have doubts about my love for Jurassic Park, this post will make your mind explode. And if you don’t have doubts about my love for Jurassic Park, then this post won’t faze you. Either way, enjoy this true story. Well, kind of. It was a dream, so it wasn’t “true” in that it actually happened, but was “true” in that I actually dreamt it.

The upcoming movie Jurassic World was about to be released. The first showing was at midnight. For some reason, the premiere was exclusively at movie theaters in New York, so I had to get to New York. I knew I’d have to take two flights (which is weird, because I, rather easily, drove myself to Manhattan some months ago). And, not only did I need to fly to New York, but I had to do the flying myself. Well, for part of the journey.

I had a small plane that I’d be flying the remaining way. It was surprisingly easy, at the airport, to ask some guys to help me load my small plane onto their bigger plane. Then I got on the bigger plane and we flew… somewhere (sadly I can’t remember exactly where, or where my starting point for this journey was).

Upon arrival, I unloaded my personal plane, and I went to some random person’s house. I had arranged via AirBnB to stay at this person’s home for the night, sleeping in my airplane. The house was a mansion so it was surprising that I wasn’t given an actual room to sleep in. I remember that it was surrounded by jungle and had a lot of Jurassic Park paraphernalia all over the place. This place was either an actual set from the movie, or the home of the world’s biggest fan of the franchise. I remember the only bathroom there was an outhouse with the walls all broken down, just like in the first film (you remember- when the lawyer gets eaten).

This is pretty much what my personal airplane looked like, which I had loaded onto and then unloaded from a bigger airplane, and then I flew myself the rest of the way to the theater.

At the buttcrack of dawn I flew my airplane into New York to get to one of the theaters where the movie was being shown. For some reason, it was in a library, and I remember giggling upon seeing Dragon Ball Z manga in the library. Everyone who arrived was wearing neon-highlighter-colored sweatshirts, in yellow, orange, and green. They (the people running the library/movie theater/thing) gave me one too, a yellow one. Apparently the sweatshirts were to help them decide how to split up the entire group into which theater room.

Then I got a phone call from a complete stranger, a woman. I don’t know how she got my number or how she knew who I was, but she asked me if the theater was packed or if there were still any tickets left or what theaters she could go to if it was sold out. I told her to hold on, and asked some of the guys working. They told me there were plenty of tickets left, here, and at most of the other theaters. I told that to the person on the phone. She hung up. I never heard from her again, or even learned who she was.

The phone call made me a minute late for the movie. I was surprisingly okay with that happening, even though I’d been waiting for this movie forever. Also, I’ve always thought that the first minute of most films is one of the most crucial moments, so it was really weird that I was not too frustrated. Then again, I don’t really ever get angry or that frustrated by anything. I walked into the theater to watch Jurassic World.

Then I woke up.

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