I think I stayed up a little too late reading Vanity Fair last night... but it's so gosh darned entertaining! I really have to struggle to stifle my laughter to keep the whole house from waking up... I even put a pillow over my face. Well, the change in sleep pattern created a strange dream that I just had to share or else to forget it. And you know how very rarely it is you remember a dream, and dreams are very interesting things, so I just have to document it in here! It's kind of long, and not exactly interesting, but I wanted to write it down just so I could remember it later.
I've always imagined that a dream consumes the entire night of sleep, but in truth a person dreams a million things that have spans measured in minutes instead of hours. Which is hard to consider when I remember a dream that's as long as a novel. Well, my mind has strange tricks to (***interruption: the back-door of the livingroom just opened by itself... weird***) properly use the five minutes it has. Sometimes I'm the protagonist, and it's seen like a first-person story. Othertimes I'm still the protagonist, but I see myself in the story, and it becomes third-person. (How very Finnegans Wake!) This serves for some dramatic irony, I don't always see what happens to me! Another trick is that my mind is already familiar with the supporting cast-- I need no introduction to the other characters, even if I've never seen them in the waking world. So unnecessary are introductions, that most people in my dreams are unnamed, and upon waking, I name them according to dominate traits or relating personnages. And since dreams are always based on life, and since my life is consumed with shopping and typing in my online diary, my dreams sometimes take on the life of movies or books I enjoy.
Well, last night (early this morning, I should say), my dream took on the actions of Miss Rebecca Sharp in Vanity Fair. In my dream, I was slightly shorter (a normal height, rather), and very alone on all accounts. I was living in a boarding school of sorts in the Victorian Age, though many of the other students (not all were girls) were dressed as though they were from today's era. This strange clash of ages was strengthened in the setting-- the school which I attended was half auld-England cathedral, the other half resembling exactly my high school. But the halves were mixed around, of course, not just evenly divided down the center.
The most prominent figures of my dream were strange ones, indeed. There was one girl who wore the colour purple as avidly as she wore an incessantly blank look on her face. Despite her lack of emotion, she was considerably prettier than I, with long, straight brown hair and bangs perfectly placed. Though she never spoke a single word, and never conveyed a thought in action (she sort of just glided around without moving her arms), I knew that she was a vindictive, domineering, evil young woman with a bent for power. Of course. I labeled her "Violet" for the colour she wore, and since she never spoke a word, she had someone speak for her. This someone I called "Emmy" (because she resembled so closely Amelia in Vanity Fair). Emmy was pretty, with blond hair in a ponytail, and was either laughing, or crying (with no moderation!), and was always at the side of Violet. I destested her as well. Both girls wore the Victorian style, but had very modern hair and makeup. Next there was a boy my age (18), who was like Hamlet-- a hypochondriac who cursed the day he was born, but took a great liking to my hefty cynicism. He had very light blond hair that covered his light eyes, and had light skin, but always wore black clothing that was much in a Renaissance style, and he carried a sabre. I never named him, but I suppose for the sake of the story, I'll call him "Hamlet".
Well, I was at the school for study, but also for work. I was apparently living off of the instructors, not for money, but for knowledge, and was disgruntled at the lack I was receiving. My only friends were the ones above mentioned, but I really hated them all save Hamlet, who was more entertaining because of his amazing ability to cut down all people but myself. We'd spend a lengthy amount of time making fun of other people like mimes, and then silently complimenting each other. For the sake of social standing, however (and as I was viewed as a pariah of the school because I was not a real member), I play-acted around Violet and Emmy. I told soppy stories about the atrocities of my life and the way I was treated at the school, constantly reminding them how very lucky they were to have money, and friends, and popularity. I pretended I admired them, and pretended that I loved their pity-gifts of nice clothing and jewelery that was meant as much to boost their egos as to boost mine.
One day there was a grand banquet because royalty was coming to visit our school to see the progress of the construction and the student body. Mainly to check on the wealth of the attending members and how it was affecting the wealthy-look of the school, I should say. Since I was entirely unwelcome to the ceremony, and was only invited because of the pleadings of Violet and Emmy (mostly Emmy) to the headmistress, I was forced to eat at the end of the table with the servants, near the door. It was dark and rainy, and there was a puddle gathering from outside under the door and around my feet. Hamlet, of course, sat next to me, but Violet and Emmy (I wish I could describe the extent of their unity, they were almost attatched... like Mamalujo, perhaps) sat near the middle of the table, where the visiting king would sit.
Well, the visiting king never showed. His court (which was comprised of old men in Men in Black outfits, oddly enough), came. But the king, himself, had been "detained". I didn't care whether royalty was going to show up or not, I only cared about the fact that I had been snubbed by Violet and Emmy. Hamlet began to make fun of them to save my feelings, but I didn't laugh. I could see Violet and Emmy glancing at me, and Emmy whispering to Violet and giggling, and Violet showing a laugh through her immobile features. You see, as this took place in the Victorian Age, and as William Makepeace Thackeray often pointed out, a woman's only goal in life could be matrimony. Well, in my dream, as well as in my real life, I dislike the whole institution of marriage. But in my dream I didn't have a choice. My desire was to gain reputation, money, and land (Miss Sharp had "castles in the sky"), and that was only obtained by marrying. Hamlet was of a good social standing, and had quite a bit of money. Though I shared his enthusiasm of bashing people, I couldn't stand his inconsiderate laziness, and his amazing amount of vanity. I had to be very careful about how I talked to him, and it was tiring but for the fact that he stank of money. I immediately hated Violet and Emmy for making fun of my intentions from across the table, and felt trapped by my standings, so I turned to Hamlet, and said, "I really can't stand you at the moment," like Gwendolen Harleth to Rex, just after he had paid me a pleasing and innocent compliment. He looked taken aback, and I ran out of the hall through the nearby door, and into the rain.
Though it was dark outside, I easily followed a well-known trail to a servant's hall in the many yards of the school. However, on my hurried way there, I came across a man of about 20 trapped under his horse, who had fallen. And for further drama, he was surrounded by a pack of hungry, ravenous wolves. And lightening sounded in the backround. I took a branch off the ground, and chased off the wolves, and pulled the man out from under his horse, and carried him to the hall. There was a long wooden table with many chairs, and I set him in one that was in the center of the table, and sat next to him, while I tried to clean him off with a rag. He woke up and shooed me away rather rudely, whereupon he put a previously hidden crown onto his head. He was the king, of course (how else would he have room enough to hide an entire crown?). He had a face like the actual John Smith, with his red hair and beard (though his beard was much more nicely kept than that of the colonist). We got into a huge argument, and I wasn't afraid to show my true anger, I didn't play-act. I got so upset that I ran into the girl's bathroom, and into a stall (??), and from above the door I could see Violet and Emmy walk in. I was still horribly angry at them, and before I saw the king walk into the bathroom, too, I berated the poor girls. I called them skanks and meanies and lazy and ne'erdowellers, and they just stared at me. I then saw the king, realised my mistake, and pretended to cry. I apologised to Emmy and Violet, pulling out the life-story, and Emmy cried, and the King saw that I was twisting them all around my finger, and smiled.
Well, a couple days later, the King announced a banquet, and at the banquet he promised a big surprise. Again I was placed at the end of the table, and I was horribly upset because Hamelt didn't show up. Violet and Emmy joined my end out of pity, and to console me, but the King demanded that I sit at his side. That made Violet and Emmy entirely jealous, and they glared at me from their side of the table as the King announced to everyone that he was to be married, and he would announce the name the following day. The next day he called all of the girls into a line, and we filed (in queue) into a room. In the room in sat in a chair, and greeted each girl. All of the girls thought that he would pull a girl from the line to marry. I looked around me, and all of the girls but me were in modern clothing, and they all looked exactly the same. Violet and Emmy cut in front of me in line, and they were nicely dressed in beautiful bustle dresses. They both walked by the King, but weren't pulled out of the line. As I walked by, I was sure I was going to be pulled, but he merely winked at me in a disinterested manner. After I got past his chair, though, a woman gave me a pin with the Irish flag on it, and said, "The king has chosen you to be one of the girls he dances with at the ball". I was pretty disgusted at this chauvenism, and was sure that if he were this crude, he'd be too petty to marry me. Someone later told me that he had picked a girl to marry him, but that was a false story to throw everyone off the track.
Well, at the ball, Violet and Emmy presented me with their pin (they shared one, since they were really one person) proudly, and I showed them mine to their disappointment. When it was my turn to dance, the King ordered that the music be stopped, and (not to my surprise), proposed to me. Of course, he being the King of all... whatever country we lived in... I had to say yes. It was my castle realised. I could live in a different room every day and never once see my husband, which was a very appealing idea. The next day, however, Hamlet, without even consulting me, got into a duel with the King, and was thrown into prison. He was let free at my request... and then I woke up!
I really hope no one read all of that, since it was kind of boring. But, as I said, it's so rare that I remember a dream, that I wanted to document it. The strangest thing that I noticed was that very rarely did people talk in my dream, but their words were interlaced with the action, like code I automatically understood. I would talk to Hamlet with no words, in a matter of seconds, and it would seem like an hour of sounds and sights. That's why I love to sleep!
And, yes, floccinaucinihilipilification is a real word. Look it up in the Oxford dictionary. It's one letter longer than antidisestablishmentarianism, but one letter shorter than floccinaucinihilpilificatious (though that's not in the dictionary). It was made up by a prankster boy at Eton. Crazy kids.