***
There was a section that was obviously a reaction to my recent Final Fantasy XII binge. I was in battle (and I may have been FFXII's main character Vaan) and I was trying to storm this building (which was remarkably like a school) and there were rules to follow in battle (i.e. the battle system, which was indeed like FFXII). So I and some others were fighting soldiers or goons or something who were coming at us through a big shattered window, and we wanted to get through the window. Then I was going through the window, hauling myself over the sill in a cumbersome manner to flop into the next room as if I were grossly overweight which I am not, and was not. Then I was in a school gym, and some stuff happened, but apparently it wasn't interesting because I can't remember it.
There was a section where I had become Sophie Hatter from Howl's Moving Castle. It had something to do with 'Wolves in the Walls' by Neil Gaiman, which is funny because I have never read Wolves in the Walls. All I have ever seen is a picture from the new play on Neil Gaiman's journal. Neil Gaiman himself was there too. I know why he was there. He was there for the same reason that I had vivid dreams in the first place. Last night I was reading Neil Gaiman's journal, and he described some vivid dreams he had, and I thought "Hey cool, he's lucky. Why don't I remember my dreams any more? I want vivid dreams too." And so I had them. Complete with cameo from Current Favourite Author. Neato.
I feel sorry for him for being in my dream, though. My subconscious is not kind to guests. I (Sophie) said that I had (somehow) prevented Mr. Gaiman from having to put his head in a toilet, so he said "Okay" and put his head in the toilet. (I'm really sorry, Mr. Gaiman, I don't mean to be so cruel). I got an amusing comedy movie-like view of this scene from further down the toilet looking up, and then the wolf and I were pulling aforementioned author out of the plumbing and saying "No! You don't have to do that!" Then I think I told Neil Gaiman (or maybe it was someone else in another part of my dream) that John Cleese reminds me of cheese. Wensleydale cheese to be precise, because he looks like Wallace from Wallace and Grommit. (Now I am awake, I no longer think John Cleese looks like Wallace). Then wolves and authors were blessedly allowed to leave my dream as I moved on.
I was in a cave, and I had separated from Sophie and saw her from the outside. There was no Calcifer in my dream, so the spell never came off Sophie, and no Howl so her aches and pains were never alleviated, and she wandered off into the gloom an old woman with aching joints. It was really quite sad.
***
You know, my dream was so much more funny for me writing it down than when I was simply remembering it. I am at work at the moment, and the whole time I was writing out the above passage (minus last paragraph) I had to keep stopping to put my hand over my mouth to stifle my giggles.
Anyway, maybe I should talk about something that happened to me in this world.
Last week I got a call from Machiko-san (who works at the BOE, and does not speak English). She said some stuff, and of that stuff this is what I understood: Saturday at 3pm, New Zealand, please come to BOE, party, no money, you don't have to drink if you don't want to. So I thought "Wow, there is something important on to do with the cultural exchange between this town and New Zealand, and since I am the resident Kiwi, I ought to go." So I said I would.
So I trundled off down to the BOE on Saturday afternoon and found the front door of the building all blocked off with cones because of the rennovation that is taking place. So I went in the back door and got told by the old guy at the front desk that I should go to the big room up stairs. So I did, and I went in the door . . . and there was a big group of old people in there mid-meeting. I thought I had come to the wrong place, but I was waved in and pointed towards a chair. I sat down, not sure if I was supposed to be there, not sure if I was wanted. Then I noticed the '100% Pure New Zealand' posters at the front of the room, so I figured I was in the right place after all. But the meeting kept going. For 45 minutes. And I . . . just sat there. Then some guy from Osaka got up and talked about New Zealand. From what I could understand, he spent half the time talking about the funeral of a friend of his, and the differences between Japanese and New Zealand grave stones. Riveting stuff, I'm sure.
Then food and alcohol was brought out, which turned out to be what I was invited for. Because I love partying with people in their 50's, 60's and 70's on Saturday afternoons. Mr. Oyagi who had been one of the bosses of the Konoura BOE before the merger was there, and he said he had been transferred back to Konoura again, which means there will be another familiar face at the BOE. This is good because for the past half year familiar faces have been few and far between. Other people spoke to me too. For a while I was talking to the old women, but then the ex-Mayor grabbed a hold of my hand and wouldn't let go. He patted me on the head and on the knee and made jokes about sexual harrassment, so I escaped and found another old woman to talk to. Seems I found the wrong woman, because my conversation partner kept encouraging people to come and harrass the young woman. I started to get tired of dealing with shameless old Japanese people, saw that I had been there long enough not to be rude in leaving, and excused myself to go to the supermarket.
The generation gaps in Japan are so broad. Old Japanese people are utterly different to their young counterparts. As I already mentioned, old people are utterly shameless. Young people spend their lives in a mix of constant embarrassment and worry. Oh, I know it is like that everywhere, but like everything else, the Japanese take the trend to the extreme. Japan just doesn't know how to do things by halves.
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