Strange

I had the strangest dream last night. No, really.

First, Polly and my Dad told me that I could go to the Philippines this summer if I wanted to. I said yes, of course, and we tried to plan it out. I got on the plane to go there and we stopped in Thailand first. We were at some strange kind of wild animal park, but it was part of the city, and I just wandered through alone. I started to feel a little nervous. I saw these strange birds on top of a few poles, and one flew down into my hands. It started to burrow, and created a little suction pocket so that it was actually stuck to my hands. They were like some strange combination of cat and bird. Other people noticed and did the same thing. I realized I didn't have my camera with me and started to freak out a little bit, and decided to go back to the hotel or whatever to make sure I'd left it there. I saw a few people I knew on the way out (I think that was part of a different dream, though).

Somehow, I ended up instead at the Manila airport (though in my dream it wasn't SUPER ghetto). I was going to catch my flight home. I went through security and everything and then I realized that I didn't have any of my luggage or my passport, and that I couldn't go home. I started freaking out a little. I took a shower in the airport bathroom (which had showers?) and walked around in a towel. I ran out of the airport dripping wet and wrapped in it, trying to find a taxi. I didn't have any luck on the top floor (where you catch the airport-endorsed ones), and instead people just gawped at barely-dressed me, so I went outside and ran down to the front of the building, which looked more like a courthouse or something from outside. All of these kids were in some weird kind of internal part of the first floor, having a party. I tried to talk to one of my friends and ask for help but she was on drugs. There was a creepy-ass basement thing with a strange elevator of sorts that was more like a small metal cage, but I quickly realized that was incorrect because you couldn't take your luggage up or down it.

I stood around on the street for awhile, trying to see a taxi to hail. Found one, waved my arms like a maniac, and he came over. He wouldn't take me back to my hotel unless he could see my passport. As I talked to him, a car full of Indians was making fun of my rapid arm movements and laughing disdainfully. I was crying and I didn't know what to do and I confronted them. They told me that my smooth-talking skills were lacking, and that I should've been able to get him to give me a ride. I asked where I could catch a taxi that wouldn't make me show a passport, and they said that the only other place was across the street. We all crossed the street (?) and I started to talk to them. I said I was nervous because I wasn't supposed to take taxis alone (totally true, who knows where they might take you?) but didn't have a choice, and that I only had a few hours or I would miss my flight and not be able to get home. They softened a little towards me and understood more. We talked for awhile, and they were still kind of mean, but not as mean. Then I looked at my phone and realized that the time it listed was 1 pm, and my flight was at 4, but my clock was actually off. Kevin told me the real time was 4 and I had to just scrap the whole "catching my flight" idea.

After awhile I realized that we were actually in the Indian grandfather's limo, heading who-knows-where. It was packed full of strange people. Kevin was there, somehow, and I asked him when HE planned on going home, since I was trying to leave as soon as possible. He didn't understand when I told him I was trying to rebook and I had to tell him like twenty times. We got back to my room (incidentally, it was the REAL room I stayed in in Manila last year) and I straightened it out.

I don't know how anything resolved, but when I got home I realized that my parents had been playing tons and tons of computer games in my absence, because there was a scoresheet tacked up on the fridge.