McNeal and Friends
Feb. 13th, 2002 10:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
enteleinThe dreams last night were fast and furious, I must say.
More journeys to my old university, more moving into dorm rooms, more wearing keys around necks, buying books, living in a dreamland education, pursuing my Master's.
The dorm room they assigned me was fairly large, with a dark bathroom painted brown, and a high ceiling that didn't seem to make sense, as I was on the first floor, and well, where will all the other floors go? I did put my bags down, though, and I did meet my Resident Assistant for the floor -- Burt Reynolds, who, for some reason, was trying to play down his Burt-ness by calling himself "McNeal." Who knows.
At some point, a friend or close relative had come to visit the room, and told me in no uncertain terms was I to live there - the window was actually bricked over on the inside, and I hadn't noticed because when I had moved in, it was night-time, and the curtain was completely drawn. I applied to move, but couldn't find a room on McNeal's floor at all. Too sad. But it was collectively agreed that I must have natural light in my room, that it'd be a crime not to have a huge window, and plants.
Burt - I mean, McNeal - did come to visit me in the new room, and we were joking around and talking like old pals. I remember thinking in the dream, "I remember that naked poster of Burt Reynolds my mom had above the Hammond Organ in our basement!" I tried not to dwell.
More journeys to my old university, more moving into dorm rooms, more wearing keys around necks, buying books, living in a dreamland education, pursuing my Master's.
The dorm room they assigned me was fairly large, with a dark bathroom painted brown, and a high ceiling that didn't seem to make sense, as I was on the first floor, and well, where will all the other floors go? I did put my bags down, though, and I did meet my Resident Assistant for the floor -- Burt Reynolds, who, for some reason, was trying to play down his Burt-ness by calling himself "McNeal." Who knows.
At some point, a friend or close relative had come to visit the room, and told me in no uncertain terms was I to live there - the window was actually bricked over on the inside, and I hadn't noticed because when I had moved in, it was night-time, and the curtain was completely drawn. I applied to move, but couldn't find a room on McNeal's floor at all. Too sad. But it was collectively agreed that I must have natural light in my room, that it'd be a crime not to have a huge window, and plants.
Burt - I mean, McNeal - did come to visit me in the new room, and we were joking around and talking like old pals. I remember thinking in the dream, "I remember that naked poster of Burt Reynolds my mom had above the Hammond Organ in our basement!" I tried not to dwell.
