I tell you, camomile tea brings out the weirdest dreams in me. Last night, between 12 and 02:00, I was locked inside a BDSM weirdo nightmare par excellence.

And I'm not even into BDSM! And honestly, I have no idea what brought this on. I listened to the BBC's The Now Show before falling asleep.

Anyway, the setup was as follows: In a classic video game setup, I was locked in a ballroom sized room that seemed to be floating on its own through a stormy sky. Inside, MTV inspired curtains were moving in the wind and dividing the room. In the middle, a female class mate of mine from back in the eighties was standing, robed in a red sorceress dress, blasted by what must have been wind machines. I am pretty sure that I haven't seen her since 1986.

I was wandering around the whole setup rather uninspired, but unfortunately my dear classmate summoned ever so often a bald giant of a bloke with uneven eyes and a stupid black leather bdsm outfit who would submit me to rather nasty physical (and not kinky) torture.

I can't remember when I had such a vivid nightmare like this the last time (my dreams are normally rather pleasant), and I have no idea what brought up this rather bizarre connection of pictures and scenes.

Must have been a bad batch of camomile tea.

This is for Jack's baby.

Right now I am in the apartment that I grew up in. Behind a closed door in the bedroom that I slept in when I was younger. Sitting in the first computer chair I ever owned; which has holes and gashes and its armrests have been replaced with fluffy old socks filled with cotton balls. The chair has seen better days.

My new wife is sleeping. She's right next to me, in the bed I slept in for the first 20 years of my life. We just finished eating pizza, something I've been craving since I left home. No place on earth makes pizza this good.

I am content; satisfied. It is quiet, and the sensory overload has ceased for some time.

I know this was already written, but I felt I needed to breathe the proverbial sigh of relief and write something too. And by write something too, I mean thank those that helped piece me back together while I was falling apart.

Thank you for warning me that the worst was going to happen, but everything would not only be okay, it would be great. Thank you for making me put my worries in a rock and throwing them away, and for being there when my best man couldn't make it. Thank you for helping me get the parking situation figured out, I could not have done it without you. Thank you for being 30 feet tall, and for helping me put up the chuppah when everyone else was busy. Thank you for not only performing the ceremony, but for allowing my parents to be there as well after their flight was cancelled--I would have never thought to call them and let them say the blessings via speakerphone. Thank you for keeping me laughing here and there so I would calm down a bit. Thank you for being so awesomely supportive throughout the entire process of everything. Thank you for rubbing my head when my brain was going to explode. Thank you for taking wonderful pictures of our ceremony.

I am sure I am forgetting someone, but seriously.. thank you, everyone, for being who you are, and for being as awesome as you are. We could not have done it without all of your help, love, and support.

Thank you for being you.

I don't normally wear red .... pink,burgundy or maroon perhaps but red is just not me. But there I was in a red dress, shimmering with a holographic lace overlay of black spider webs. I really couldn't resist this dress, it was off the shoulder with small spaghetti straps and I'd once been told how sexy "off the shoulder" was on me. I wanted to look sexy because this was a special night.

The club was taking a trip, lock, stock and well...bondage table. The doors opened at 8 for a bit of food and camaraderie and then the whole place was lifted (despite the tornado warnings) at precisely 10 pm. We were encouraged to not do any serious play until after the lift off because even the blindfold aficionados would want to see the transition.

When we lifted, not only the old warehouse, but the lighter aspects of the furnishings began to float. Curtains dividing play stations drifted, as if small fans were blowing up at angles from the floor. Luckily our affinity kept them at least marginally attached but my webs pushed up around my bosom and some escaped to my hair. One pretty participant, with blond hair to her waist, quickly braided it up to add some heft but not before the tendrils lifted and twinned about enough to almost lift her now 10 foot toe-to-hair tip self off the floor.

The club hovered, as was intended, on a cloud and things began to settle down to normal.

I saw an old friend of mine, I hadn't seen him for years! He seemed a little lost, rather like a little boy so I asked another friend who kind of cottons to the lost boy/girl types being a large, bald "daddy" type himself to take him on a tour of the various stations. The lost boy kept trying to leave, which of course is not OK. Once one consents to this trip there is nothing to do but ride it out. The daddy/tour guide kept giving him little tastes of the various sensations and telling him he had to at least try one bite of everything. All in all though I'd say it was a miss rather than a hit and he was out the door as soon as we landed.

The landing itself was uneventful.

stumbited for DreamQuest 2007

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