I married Kevin Barnes. The wedding was on Union Pond back in Rhode Island; the guests, mostly our friends and my family, were set up outside at white-clothed tables. It was an overcast day. I wore a pink and grey minidress, and I fluttered about surrounded by my friends (who were apparently just generic friend-types and no one I know when I'm awake) waiting for Kevin to arrive.

He finally showed up, also dressed in pink and grey. He was frightened, for some reason, by a book we bought from a vending machine in the house. I kiss him and try to make him feel better - it's our wedding day, after all! - but he remains tense, edgy. He's so different from the sweet, gentle Kevin I know (or have imagined for dream purposes).

I go and see my mom's family, sitting together at a table near the front. It's a tense situation and we get into a brief argument about some jewelry my grandmother leaves on my plate. It's gold, and I don't wear gold.

Then, the actual ceremony, which mostly involves us scrutinizing each other's various forms of ID. We have to wait a while for the vows, since they're being broadcast on MTV along with various other musicians' vows (Kevin's in a band, see...though admittedly not a very mainstream one). The only other pair I remember was two blond British rappers in outlandish hats.

Then we're married, and we take a trip to New York City. We don't know exactly where we want to go, so we check into a random hotel and stretch out. The hotel is expensive and has tiny rooms, but there's all manner of conveniences situated on the first floor - stores, a laundry, and a crematorium.

My dad and his mother have come on the trip with Kevin and me. As we relax they stand up and put on their coats - Dad is taking darling Gramma June downstairs to get burned. Apparently, that's what she wants to do. They leave the room with a minimum of fanfare, Dad still in his suit and June in her best coat and hat, and all I can do is stare after them. Kevin cries on my shoulder. I just feel sick.

Then, it's a few weeks later. We're moving into a bright little apartment with houseplants and wood panelling - I hear myself telling Kevin that we can stay here in this Brooklyn residential hotel for six months, then we'll move down to Athens, his home, and we'll see which we like better.

Then we're in a car, and I'm driving (which I don't do when I'm awake) - apparently all our things are in it, it's six months later, and we're going south to Georgia. I have to pee, and I end up going in a (empty!) juice bottle, and we pull into a grassy rest stop and are greeted by an older lady who is outwardly friendly, but I can tell she doesn't approve of young ladies relieving themselves in bottles. I turn around to wake up Kevin when my roommate comes in and slams the door because it's 2pm and this has been one long-ass mother of a dream.