Strange Dream!

I am walking through the motel room/s, which seem especially large and strangely laid out. Rather than just one room—it is a series of rooms connected to each other. The rooms are quite small and remind me of upper class public restrooms –given that each one seems to have a large vanity along one wall and comfortable looking armchairs near by, and one smallish bed.

The main room has two beds, both looking rather lumpy and only three quarter size. I’m not really happy, but its late and we’re somewhere in a remote area of Oregon, so we must stay. My son Jake decides to take the smaller bed in one of the other rooms, and I will take the one next to the vanity in the bigger room. I look into the mirror and see that is also a window into a similar room adjoined to ours. As I gaze into the empty room on the other side of the window/mirror, I think ‘that’s a shame-but what can I do.’

We have Blackie and Turtle (our cats) traveling with us, and I go off to find them. I think Jake has gone to get our luggage, and when I see the cats sitting under chairs, I go back to “my” room. When I get there, I see a blond, middle-aged woman sitting on “my” bed. I ask nicely at first:

“Excuse me, but what are you doing here, sitting on my bed in my hotel room?”

She says: “I’ve decided to take this bed, I like it better than the other one.”

Incensed by her answer, I say:

“What do you mean? This is my room not yours—go and find your own room!”

“I will not, I’m taking this bed –you take the other one!” She responds, pointing her bony finger at the bed across the room. Soon we are yelling at each other until I’m so

furious, that I storm out—“This is not the end of it. I’m going to get the manager!”

As I try to get to the manager the rooms are suddenly filled with lots of people and lots of noise. There are dogs yapping, children laughing and crying, it seems more like a busy shopping center or an airport and Jake is nowhere to be found. What the hell is going on? Who are all these people?

But I don’t get any answers and as I make my way back to the other room, I notice a lot of brown stains on the carpet and smell the sour stink of shit. I think –that’s from the dogs- and move on, noticing Blackie cowering under a chair. When I get back to ‘my room’ things have changed again—dramatically!

Right in the center of the room and under the vanity/mirror is now a huge king size bed, with the same woman lying in the middle of it, looking very comfortable and holding a small child in her arms. I stumble backwards in shock and sit on the other small, lumpy bed, which now has other people sitting on it too. Just then Jake stumbles in—fighting his way through what is now a crowd and says:

“Holy shit Mum…. that’s fucking Madonna! -- Didn’t you recognize her?”

“I guess now I do, but I don’t understand …what is she doing here? Why in my room? It just doesn’t make any sense!”

“I don’t know either but holy fucking shit… it’s Madonna!” He repeats, obviously star struck.

By then I notice that there is a beautiful small girl sitting on my lap, maybe she is four or five years old and has the sweetest disposition imaginable. Just holding her soothes my troubled spirit, and she tells me that Madonna is her mother. I simply relax and hold her, while she talks to me. After a while I hand her over to the woman sitting beside me, to go to the bathroom, waving to her as I leave.

Suddenly I find myself outside, where it is now daylight and stumble upon a group of people filming and add or something. Everything stops and the very handsome director, gazes deeply into my eyes, making my heart soar for a brief moment. He has long black hair and beautiful dark brown eyes, which search my soul ever so briefly before he says to his crew who anxiously await his decision,” no, I don’t want to use her after all.”

Another man, who has his arm in a sling, puts a comforting hand on my shoulder but I shrug it off angrily, knowing that the rejection was due to my age. The director says to the guy, ”No man, let her go, we’ve got to film Federer next, remember?”

At the sound of the word ‘Federer’ I perk up and allow the man to walk me back to the motel. He tells me that they are making a movie about Roger and the next thing I know, Blackie begins to talk to me and I realize that I’m dreaming and then I wake up.