I don't love Amy nor do I hate her; I like her songs and although I find her 'situation' somewhat depressing, I didn't think I'd care that much to have her sneaking about in my sub-conscious. But here we are.


Picture that petrol station/convenience store in 28 Days Later where that little...girl was, I think, that had to be axed up (can one ever be axed down? [or more fittingly 'chopped', but I decided to use 'axed' for this little description coz the 'x' makes it sound so 'edgy' {heh} and dangerous]). The setting for this dream started here.



(Turns out it was a young boy; getting myself confused with 30 Days Of Night I saw recently which had a young girl who was turned (into a vampire instead of a zombie in this instance) in a grocery store. Honest mistake!)

I can't recall if I was working at this petrol station/convenience store or I was merely perusing the wares as one is wont to do, but all of a sudden, there was this 'vibe'; this feeling that all occupants inside had to look out onto the long stretch of road parallel to the building.

Why?

There was a cavalcade of black, gleaming limos drawing nearer and nearer to our brown, decrepit shack.

Somehow we all knew an impromptu photoshoot for Amy Winehouse was going to take place (because we may be backwards 'outback' types, but we're damn good at precognition apparently), so we hurried about the store trying to make things more presentable, which surprisingly canned corn is a glaring perpetrator.


There's a silence over the store.


Amy waltzes in wearing a (somewhat) dark green satin/silk long gown and I find myself breathless at the sight of her. I find myself wanting to be like her at that moment - all glammed up with the air of a star; of someone important.

And so, because it's my bloody sub-conscious and I can do whatever the bloody hell I want, I find myself in a sapphire blue satin/silk long gown and participating in this photoshoot with Amy, and it feels 'right' - like I belong there with her; that I'm her equal.


Now finding myself in awe and envy of Ms. Winehouse was odd enough for me to comprehend, but somewhere along the photoshoot we start touching each other - nothing gratuitous or outright sexual, just lingering touches to the arm and the such of someone fond of the other.

We start to build up a report and then things seem to develop a femme-slashy undertone from there: faces almost touching in conversation, fingers absentmindedly caressing the others' belly...


It all seemed to end so abruptly; Amy was being whisked away to her limo by generic manager-types that I grew frantic and tried to chase after her, picking up the front of my gown so I wouldn't trip...but ultimately not being able to catch up in time coz of those blasted heels on an unstable, gravelly path. I stood there dejected, feeling as though the reason for living was being taken away from me and I could do nae to stop it.


As the wheels spun uncontrollably on the gravel, shooting grains haphazardly, a tinted window rolled down and Amy's beehive emerged followed by her comical eyes and quintessentially British mouth. I started to run after her even though it was a seemingly pointless exercise. She yelled out that I had to 'get to the cookies first before Matt and Dan find them! Hurry, before it's too late!'
'What cookies?! Where?!' I exclaim, pushing myself even harder to catch up to her, in order to accomplish this 'mission'. Lucky for me, the convoy slow down but ne'er so much that I can actually reach them.

I'm running and running when eventually the once open road starts to become more dense with foliage that was previously large willow-type trees, are now tropical ferns and palms, glistening with the remnants of a good rain. What should have taken forever to change did so in probably 5 minutes, which is rather good because I'm terribly out of shape and sincerely doubt I'd have lasted much longer.

Because we were apparently approaching the cookie destination, the convoy storm ahead and Amy is out of my sight. I keep running because that's all I have left to do when I hear something steadily increasing behind me.

I chance a look and find two people on a push bike; one seated in the appropriate spot, whilst the other is sat precariously atop the handlebars and front wheel.


It's Matt Skiba and Dan Andriano.


Oh no! They're after The Cookies!


I keep running in my sapphire blue dress and heels, my breathing hard and fast. They're gaining on me and gaining on me, so much so that I soon feel the wind that is pushed from the front tyre, tickling the hairs at the base of my neck. Suddenly Louise is next to me just as Matt and Dan- wait, what?! A tyre near my neck? How is that possible? Dan (who is driving) has the bike in a wheelie (somehow with Matt still on it) and is advancing upon me. When it feels like it's about to make contact, Louise is suddenly there and it's almost like she takes my place and BZZRRTRRZBBTZZPLEH! The wheel comes down unrelentingly on Louise's back, but she's unfazed and keeps on running. The Alkaline Duo are apparently preoccupied with Louise so I'm able to make my way to The Cookie Stand that has just come into view. I latch onto the podium, tired and out-of-breath only to be confused out of my fatigue.

There, on the podium, is an old green book (something akin to The Lord Of The Rings or something of that nature...I dunno, Frodo sucks) and 3 (Anzac?) cookies. I hesitatingly taste one and have this paranoid belief for a second that they're laced with marijuana or something, but I guess my love for Amy is more deep-seated than my un-vowed vow to 'Edge', because I keep eating away quite happily and feel at peace.

My mission was over and I was victorious.



Then I'm at home and Mum's there. I'm surprised and she says 'I'm back from the dead!' really excitedly. And after a quick once-over to check for signs of possible zombie-ism, who am I to quibble at such a thing? My Mummy's back! I hug her, so happy that she's with me again, and the dream (unfortunately) ends.



I had another dream with Mum where she finally came back from being at the hospital; she was fine - a clean bill of health. I was so giddy that I followed her from where I found her in the lounge room, to the front door where she ended looking out from. The sun was streaming in through the screen door and I was rocking on the balls of my feet, clasping my hands, so eager to touch my Mum and cement the fact that she was home again.


Some days I really think it's all a horrible dream until I realise a few seconds later that it's not.