Very Rare Bear (djswifty) wrote,
Very Rare Bear

Dream Journal, Vol. 11

Next time I'm just staying asleep indefinitely, cheerfully wasting away to a skeletal nothing, like the in first volume of Sandman. Here's why.

I dream that I am a party ghost. I have many powers: Personal flight; switching from corporeality to ineffability and back, with an impressive poof!; creating solid, soundproof walls out of aether; habitation and possession of other lifeforms. (Yes, this is more or less a solid top-five of desireable superpowers. If there's something I know all about, it's preparation for wish fulfillment.)

My extended set of relatives are having a family reunion in New York City, on the same weekend that many of my friends will, themselves, be accidentally convening. Clearly, I have to have a party with them, if even at the expense of my -- yawn -- familial ties. Luckily, as previously stated, I am a party ghost.

The first thing I do is call or haunt all of my friends to let them know what the deal is. I appear on trains and fly over the Brooklyn Bridge while speed-dialing my nearest and dearest. At one point, I am inexplicably forced to ride a bicycle around the back of an abandoned high school, but even when I am set upon by a bicycle gang, I remain a party ghost, and when they fail to defeat me in combat, we all become friends, and they are invited. I am so magnanimous, in fact, that this makes me think of the people I never really knew at my own high school, and immediately call Quinnen Donahue1 and invite her posse.

Eventually I have to return to my uncle's apartment. My extended family is there, in a boring room with the colors muted, everyone wearing sweaters and trying the dip and joking about not talking about politics. I realize the magnitude of the situation, and commit to doing something extreme. I haunt my uncle.

"WHOAAAA," I say, through my uncle. "Looks like Tommy had one too many highballs!" In my dream, my uncle is a well-known minister. This is why I have him grope my [fictitious! -ed] second cousin. Then I have him knock over some standing ferns, and race upstairs. The rest of the family follows him, concerned, which is when I block off the stairway with some ghost-matter. Party Ghost wins again.

I then teleport all of my friends to the house, but oh no! There's no party atmosphere! Everybody is caught up in their own activities with nary a thought about how awesome it would be to totally party. I take the time to personally visit each room, floating through walls and seeping through peepholes, to quell fights and pull amorous couples apart. "Doesn't partying seem like a good idea," I'll ask, and after some debate, they will all agree that, hey, yeah, let's all break out the Jameson's and get totally awesome! Then, after I float out of the room, I turn invisible and float back in, just in case anybody is changing into their party clothes. That's what Party Ghosts do. (Of course, invariably, everyone was too wise to my incorrigible ghosty ways, and they would wag their fingers up at the ceiling, all like "Ha ha! No, you can't see our breasts today, ghost-Stephen!" Then I would materialize with a rueful grin, a good old "aw-shucks" sort of thing, and move on to the next room.)

Eventually I got a huge awesome party roaring, like or as a bonfire of fun, and when it was done, I made some arcane hand-gestures, and squibbety-doo!, all of the dishes were clean and put away, and the house sparkled with careful hygiene, and nobody was the wiser. Party Ghost 2005.

1 Who, if you think about it, would probably be the best candidate for "Person I Barely Knew Who I Could, As An Awesome Ghost, Reasonably Convince To Come To Some Huge Party." Her or Liz Merritt, anyway.

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