how you know you’ve had too much midnight to drink

I’ve told some of you about how I’ve always had these dreams about someone(s) trying to kill me. Last night it took on a new spin, although going to sleep thinking about my writing is probably 98% or more to blame.

A bunch of us were in Corbin – and I have to assume that’s where we lived – and word got out that someone / a group of someones was after the Anethdraeg Family book of law. For some ungodly reason, everyone decided that I had to get to Harlan and give it to Michael who could take it to his bank and put it in his safety deposit box. It would be safe there, barring nuclear explosion or supernova.

This was a weird Corbin. It was more like Lexington downtown. But it was Corbin. And on Depot Street where the old L&N passenger depot was, there was a shiny Amtrak station. An honest to gods Amtrak station.

The idea was for me to Amtrak to Cincinnati, cab back down to Hebron, and fly to New York City or Boston. From there, I would fly to Chicago. Then Amtrak to New Orleans and on to Atlanta. From there, I would fly into Knoxville, then rent a car and drive the rest of the way in, on back roads, to Michael’s.

I hate to be cliché and say “it was dark and many people died”, but it’s the truth.

From three streets over, it took me and the woman who volunteered to go with me two hours to get from Poplar Street to Depot Street in Corbin. Much running, ducking, dodging bullets, and hiding. Then, just when we thought we were standing in the train station Scott-free, the whole place got shot up. We managed to dodge more bullets, someone threw us his keys, and we raced off in his car. I found the backest back roads I could find to get us to Cincinnati.

I have no idea if we ever made it. We stopped at one point at this farm somewhere on the other side of Georgetown, and there was a little dog there that someone had abandoned, and the woman I was with insisted we take it with us. All I wanted was a hot meal and some alcohol. I didn’t care about a dog. Wherever this was, the people were supposed to be friendly and give us whatever we needed and take care of us without question. The only problem was, when we got there, they weren’t home. I can’t remember if we dug around and found a key or ended up breaking in, but we did end up well fed, cleaned up, patched up, and back on the road.

The dream ended when we were somewhere just south of Hebron.

weird dream

Do I ever have any other kind?

I dreamed I was at half price books and they had a lot of John Urbancik books for sale – so I bought the lot, after I knocked some girl out of the way to get to them. 😀 And then I was at someone’s house and mentioned Brian Keene and this lady asked who Brian Keene was, so I gave a Brian Keene lecture. I also gave out books and t-shirts.


[x-posted from Louise Bohmer’s Forest]

I had the best dream this morning.

[blockquote]* Each year in early August, Corbin hosts a festival called NIBROC (Corbin spelled backwards) featuring open-air concerts, carnival attractions, a beauty pageant, parade, and other events. The festival is featured, if anachronistically, in the play Last Train to Nibroc by Arlene Hutton. (Though the play is set in the 1940s, the festival itself only dates to 1952.)[/blockquote]

:hack: What Wikipedia fails to mention is that Nibroc was also a Jeopardy question — that made it into the Genus IV Trivial Pursuit game.

Anyway. Back to my dream.

I dreamed that a bunch of my friends and I from high school (and I’m sure I’m dreaming this because it’s time for Nibroc and becuase my reunion is in a month) were walking in downtown Lexington. We crossed Broadway from the Hyatt to the Central Bank building. I looked up and saw a sign for “Nibroc Treats”. “Oh, we have to go in there!” I was almost jumping up and down. My friends thought I’d flipped. Then again, they always have – they knows me well. So we go in, and it’s a smallish place, but there’s like tons of carnival food and down the middle there are some simple carnival games — like a ring toss, a duck race, you know the easy stuff. But in the corner by the door, a booth. Complete with the usual fire-engine red, silver, and white colors everything in Corbin “must be” – it’s Nibroc PopCorn. So I had to try some. I asked for a sample. It WAS Nibroc PopCorn! So I bought one of those ginormous buckets, and we all stood there in the shop munching and drinking ice cold Pepsis — from real glass bottles, like the kind you can’t get anymore.

There’s nothing in life like a real, ice cold Pepsi in a real, glass bottle. :swoons: