A strange dream

So usually my dreams aren't that weird. I mean, they are things that could actually happen. But last night's dream was far from that.

So, the main part of the dream involved some type of road trip or something. I was in a van with a bunch of people i didn't know, but I think my parents might have been there, and my little cousin. So there is this guy who is there (I think he kind of looked like John Stamos), and his brother was a fugitive. We were driving (and there was even a montage, I kid you not. The mile numbers on signs counting down, you know, they show a sign that says 100 miles, then another that says 50 miles...after we got to 0 miles there was a sign that said mile 22398 or something crazy.) Throughout the ride, I realized that the fugitive was rolled up in a blanket between some of the seats, on the floor. I guess everyone else thought he was just luggage. Towards the end of the trip, his blanket fell off a bit and my baby cousin started laughing at him, and people started to figure it out. But I guess not everyone did?

We made it to someone's house. I think it was my grandma's house because there was a picture near the door that my uncle drew. Anyway, we were near a cliff, and the fugitive had somehow found a parachute. But he was falling (off the cliff, or from a plane, I don't know) and as he free-falled, he blew himself up. And then the chute went off to float his dead body to the ground. Then he exploded again. We were all like "that was really lame" I think his body turned into a mannequin or something.

So later in my dream, I was at a softball game, standing behind home plate with....THE POPE. He was all decked out in his pope clothes. I was like, wow, I can't believe I'm shooting the shit with the Pope! I don't think he understood softball much, so I was kind of explaining things. Suddenly, the backstop started falling backwards, and we almost got hit by the fence! Crazy!

That was pretty much it. In real life news, Mike and I tried the BYOB noodle place near our apartments. It was quite good, and I even had enough for leftovers the next day! That night I made a return to the late night salsa techno club that breaks out next to a Mexican restaurant. Luckily, I was not confronted by any creepy guys. I got my hair cut on Saturday, then went to dinner with Dolu at the Regal Beagle, which was a pretty cool place. Very girly. They played 70s and 80s music and the decor was very 70s. Dark, lit with a reddish glow, and couches. Later that night I happened upon a party that was practically a Sorin party...flashback to frosh/soph years. As were were playing flip cup we realized that 4/5 girls playing lived in Cavanaugh. It's a small world, I guess. Also notable, they had a keg of Smithwicks. Probably the classiest party I've been to, if only for that detail.

Next week is labor day, and I am looking for something fun to do. Any ideas? I will leave you with a song that will remind me of living in Chicago because it's been played in every bar I've been to, ever.