Banking on the bus party


Often times dreams are just a jumble of the images that you were presented with the previous day. I had such a dream last night. Here are some pieces of it:

I was at a party saying good bye to lots of people from LA, but we were in Paris at a bank. The woman who was throwing it looked a lot like Jujubee. As people were arriving at the party ¬†she was telling them over the intercom what they could not bring in, and the list of things were odd. She told them not to bring pacemakers and bank slates and equipment. I saw a lot of old friends and even though we were in a stationary building, the party was moving like on a bus through the streets of Paris. We kept looking out the window to figure out where we were (somewhere near the Bastille I guessed) but couldn’t. I told some people that I was hugging goodbye that I didn’t miss LA, but I missed them (which was not true in the case of the people I said good bye to, because they were only vague acquaintances, not ever close friends. But I didn’t want to hurt their feelings and it seemed appropriate in the moment.)

Prior to arriving at the party a few of us were traveling around with someone close to me, I could not make out who, but someone I had known a long time. And we kept packing and unpacking suitcases with lots of old things, memorabilia in them. I kept asking my close friend if he or she had everything, hadn’t forgotten anything, as we looked deeply into the suitcase for things that had been discarded about the room. All kinds of things, pants, books, tobacco, lamps, plastic bags, moldy old photographs. Something was really important to find in all of this mess, but we couldn’t and the bus/building was leaving for the party, so we gathered what we had and left.


  1. Mo says:

    One word: CAPER!