In this blog: I subject you all to another “Claudia had a weird dream and wants to analyze it Freudian style” event. You’ve been warned.

So.

This dream starts out in what appears to be a very hilly version of Moscow (yeah, more than it actually is, ARE YOU SCARED YET?). It’s dark outside, I have the car, and I’m driving around aimlessly. Matt’s in the passenger’s seat because he’s apparently required material in all my dreams now.

There’s no music playing (atypical in my usual car rides), but we’re talking about random stuff, driving up and down erratic roads on these hills. Having fun, you know. This goes on for a good portion of the dream until we meet this hitchhiker lady who looks and acts very much like my old high school friend Tanya. I offer her a ride to absolutely nowhere in particular and she gets in, talking excitedly about who the hell knows what. Off we go, with no destination in mind, apparently intent on traversing every hill in the town.

It turns out later, though, that I guess we were headed to church, because the dream suddenly shifted to us getting out of the car and going into St. Mary’s Church. All the lights are on and the church is almost entirely full, so we have to sit in like the last row. As we sit down I notice to the left (we’re on the right of the aisle) that Sean’s there and he’s acting REALLY drunk. He’s sitting amongst a bunch of guys I went to elementary school with (fitting, considering we went to St. Mary’s school) and is just being obnoxiously loud and boisterous.

The guys are like “dude, calm down, you’re in a church!” but he won’t shut up. Eventually like six of them get up and physically carry him out of the church at the start of the service, with him shouting all the while. For whatever reason, I can’t help but think that it’s my fault he’s acting all drunk and I feel like I should go with him to see if he’s okay, but I stay in my seat.

Anyway, like twenty minutes in dream time pass and the service is carrying on as usual when all of a sudden one of the elementary school guys busts through the church doors waving this index card screaming something about Sean’s blood. The priest (who is wearing a Pope hat?) is in the aisle and the guy runs up to him and gives him the index card. The priest looks at it and then starts waving it around, yelling “he’s a timyrean! He’s got timyrean blood!”

Apparently, in my unconscious brain, timyrean is a blood type like A, AB, O, etc., except it’s EXTREMELY rare and has been found in like 0.00000000001% of the population. So the whole congregation basically freaks out ‘cause everyone’s so jazzed about someone having timyrean blood in Moscow.

After the priest flips out for a good amount of time, he goes back to the front of the church to resume the service, but I run up behind him and go, “excuse me sir, but I would like to get your permission to leave church so I can go visit my friend Sean in the hospital.”

He puts his hand on my head and starts yelling “YES, you may go, child, you are such a good Christian to want to go visit your friend in the hospital, [freakishly long priest talk that I can’t remember]!”

I’m pretty uncomfortable with this and say, “okay, I’m going to go now—”

“SUCH A GOOD CHRISTIAN!!!” And he rambles on for a few more minutes before I wake up.

Yeah.

Time for key points analysis, Freudian style!*

• Driving around Moscow probably arose from the fact that I was thinking of what I would do when I was back in the States in July. I was thinking about that random time last year when Matt and I decided to drive down to Lewiston late at night. I’m guessing that’s where this element (and the Matt element) comes from.
• I actually saw Tanya as a “suggested friend” on Facebook the other night, so that one’s pretty obvious.
• I really am not sure where church came from. I was looking through my high school yearbook last night, but I didn’t consciously pick out anyone I went to elementary school (and thus to church) with.
• The Sean element’s pretty obvious, though, as I was talking to him last night right before I went to bed. Maybe the way he was complaining about his summer class sounded like something he would shout about if I had been actually talking to him rather than conversing over MSN Messenger, and that’s where the drunken shouting came from.
• First thing I did this morning was look up “timyrean.” I’m 99% sure that’s how it was spelled on the index card. The only info Google can provide me is that I must have misspelled “Tim Ryan” when I searched—which I’m pretty sure is not the case—so I have no idea where I pulled that word from. It might be my dream-brain’s jumbling of the word “tachyon” ‘cause I was looking those up late last night, but who knows.
• I also don’t know where the “Claudia is a good Christian and here’s why” priest speech came from. I don’t remember any religious crises from yesterday.

Fun.

*According to Freud, all elements of a night’s dream arise from stimuli thought of or experienced during the previous day.

Today’s song: Only for the Weak by In Flames