Demi, Ellen, financial aid and too much alcohol?

Last night was a nice break. My best friend invited me to the mountains, where she is now living. If that brings to mind images of neanderthal man or big foot- let me clear the air. She, being a fellow single mother, of four boys is living in a small mountain town in her parents basement apartment. 

One of our many reservoirs in the area was holding a celebration of sorts which happens to fit smack-dab in the middle of both out nations independence day anniversary and our states discovery- by the pioneers. There was to be a picnic in the park, live music and fireworks. Because the mountains are approximately 10 degrees cooler than the valley, and it has been sweltering here, I took her up on the invitation.

We didn't take any food, I ate before I left- budget constraints. We packed a cooler full of beer she had on hand- also cheap and available. It would sure help the cool-down factor. We threw in some chairs and blankets and headed for the hills/lake. Neither of us are big drinkers- one or two beers, glasses of wine or cocktails and we are happy- and done. So we took four. 

It was a good time. Not much to report. Music, chatter with a good friend, and then the finally with the fireworks. Most people were there in family groups so it was certainly not a location for meeting anyone. 

But- here is where the story gets a little weird.

I climbed into bed at about 1am. The alcohol helping me to slip into slumber. And I awoke around 7am. 

Now, I rarely have dreams and if I am dreaming, it is rare that I remember them much longer than a few minutes upon waking. But this morning, I remembered clearly. 

My dream began with my standing in line at the unemployment office (which with the invent of the internet I have never had to do). I was explaining my situation and in return getting grief as to why I was not working when I have a college degree. Words such as lazy and no good were used excessively. 

My face was turning red, I am still not sure if it was from shame or anger. And in walked Demi Moore- yes, Demi Moore. She had on a pair of coveralls and her hair pulled up into a beige baseball style hat. I did not recognize her at first. 

She snagged my by the crook in my arm, as I have not been pulled since grade school and pulled me out the door and down the street into a very fancy office. The office was very modern and clean and empty. She asked me to wait there and that was when I recognized her. Who could mistake that velvet voice? 

I was alone- waiting. It was then that my parents appeared. Not saying a word. Just sitting near me and smiling. And I didn't say anything to them. Next came my kids, same scenario. 

I knew the look on my older daughters face, she never could keep a secret and that is what her face was saying now. But she didn't speak. From somewhere below, I could hear many voices. Almost like an audience. Clapping and one person speaking. Letterman? No- a woman's voice.

And then a woman with a clipboard came into the room. She took my children and ushered them down a tall staircase more resembling a ladder than stairs. Where were they going? More applause.

After a few minutes- my parents descended. Applause once again. 

I waited, getting nervous... is this the day of reckoning? Have I done all I could have? Was it punishment for not being able to take care of my family to the best of my ability?

And then he appeared. A man much taller than I. By at least a foot. Blonde hair hanging over his eyes. He spoke softly. Telling me not to be nervous. Telling me that this will be over soon. Ashton?

I look down at my hands wringing in my lap and discover that I am still in my ratty cut-off shorts and dirty T-shirt I mowed the yard in this morning. Should I be dressed more appropriately? And what would be appropriate?

I began to descend the same ladder-like stairs and down into the bright light....

And then see my family, they are spread across one of those oh so familiar talk-show guest couches. And there at the end? In the single, hosts seat? Ellen Degeneres.

I cried. She said she could help. I cried more. I remember telling her, I don't deserve this. I am a college graduate, I can support my family. So many need this more than I do.

But, I was helped.  I think. It was not clear after that.

The audience broke into a quiet roar... I woke up.

_____________________________

I am not making this up. I couldn't.

I couldn't help but laugh. Had the alcohol messed with my subconscious? Had I watched too many day-time talk shows this week? Is the stress getting to me?

What in the world do Demi and Ashton have to do with anything?

And as I sit here writing this, I am reminded of the soap box I perched myself upon in my latest post.

You know, the one about bailouts and easy fixes. And then had a good laugh with my morning coffee.

Ellen, if you are reading this, I would not turn down the offer- If however you have yet to visit my humble blog, or my dreams well then I suppose it is up to me.

Happy dreams everyone.