Brainy Vapours

I am on an ornate cruise ship that is designed for common people to meet with royalty. I am with a friend of mine that looks like a girl I used to know in highschool. We are all stood around in lines in our finest gowns, waiting for one of the royals to walk by and pick from us whomever they are interested to meet.

Some sort of prince goes by me and I am not picked. I am not really surprised at this as I feel rather old compared to most of the others. As this round is over we are told to move up to the next level, which is actually up a few floors. Here we are sat down in what looks like theatre seats. Again, a royal starts working his way down the line. For some reason I decide this is a good time to put cream on my legs as they are feeling dry. The cream has a look and texture similar to chocolate pudding. I get it done just in time.

I think I must have been picked because now only a few of us are leaving the group to go up a few more floors. Here, in a line again, we are faced with a young girl. She goes through each of us, first tapping us on the shoulder then pulling us forward, mocking us and laughing. She thinks we're pathetic. When she does it to me, I laugh too. She picks me.

I'm pulled forward into a space in front of the crowd and I see the royals. It's more like one prince and his friend/servant/advisor. He's sat beside the prince and he looks very bored. He frustratedly tells us that we should "dance or something", so we do, and he likes how the girls dance sexy. Suddenly it's over and the royals are whisked away.

It's time to get off the cruise ship, to find our train, but I don't know where my son or friend is. I start going down levels, searching. I am questioning whether it was level 9 or 7 that I was originally on. Some random guy is trying to help me but it's slow going. He's asking people if they have seen my friend. We come across this crowd and someone tells me to watch out, there is a massive spider on the wall nearby and they know how I am terrified of spiders. I see what they are pointing at, it's a bubble of fabric on the wall that is moving in an irregular way. It frees itself from the wall and I see it's really just a leather jacket. I tell them their mistake.

A massive gorgeous moth lands on the floor suddenly and someone grabs it. S/he starts breaking pieces off of it like it's made of some sort of brittle taffy and handing the pieces out. I freak out at the cruelty of this, but there is no reaction so I move on.

I go into a lift and down another floor. There is a frustrated couple in there with me, trying to get to their floor. I finally find my son and ask him where his Papa is. He says Papa is by the car, and I ask him where the car is. He just says "down", so down we go in search of him. The car is parked in some of the many decks below, rather like a ferry. I am overwhelmed with the idea of searching blindly for it.

Me and this random guy are looking for our estranged fathers. We're in some retreat kind of place for people who are looking for lost family members. In our research we discover that we actually have the same father and are in fact brother and sister. We plan to track down our father together and tell him who we are.

We do find a man whom we know to be the one we've been searching for, we succeed in getting him to come to the retreat often, and we get to know him well. He looks a bit ZZ Top-ish, with a long white beards and glasses that always hide his eyes. I get the impression he's a trucker or something, and his accent is American, which is odd to me.

My brother is supposed to be around a lot more than he is, but he's gotten involved with some sort of television reality show like Pop Idol or something. Because of this, he is always busy and never around to help me with the plan anymore. I decide that I am tired of waiting around for my brother, I will tell our father who we are on my own. I decide to construct an art project and give it to the man as a gift, but the twist is that the art will be of an obvious sort that will send the message that the receiver is, in fact, my father. I create the piece and it ends up incredibly random (has a hockey stick in it?!?) but dream logic tells me that he will know what it means.

I present the artwork to my father and his reaction is not at all positive. He is defensive, confused, angry, and yet he does know what it means. I tell him about my brother, his son, as well. It does not go over well.

I do actually have an estranged father, but he is actually British and not American. Interesting what my subconscious came up with as my father figure. ZZ Top? Lol!