Thanksgiving Marching Band Party with Wine and Stray Cats ~ 1/3/2015

I dreamed that, just over on Dumaine and St. Peter, there was a patch of Chihuahuan desert scrub, with a little wine shop. I went there to buy some bottles of wine for Thanksgiving at Momo's house. The family that owned the vinyard and winery were very judgmental wine snobs, and I started to get the feeling that if I didn't choose the right wines, I might not make it out of the shop.

Apparently I passed the test, so they let me leave. I walked several blocks south and east to another patch of desert scrub, to get to Momo's house. The family was gathered to eat Thanksgiving dinner, and the wine was much appreciated. As the afternoon went on, college marching bands started showing up. There was a marching competition in town, and they had been invited out to have a kick off party at Momo's.

I was standing in the garage, beneath a balcony. A shower of red liquid began to rain down, because someone up on the balcony had shaken up a two-liter bottle of Big Red soda, and was spraying it everywhere. I hid under the balcony until the drizzle stopped, then went out on the porch to look for some rags to clean up the mess.

An orange tabby cat was creeping across the yard. Brightly colored string was woven into its fur, giving it a Tron-like striped pattern in white and red and green and yellow. I coaxed it over, and it was wary at first, but allowed me to pet its head, and then became my friend.

I went into town to get cat food, and got kind of lost. So I rose up above the city to look down, and the Intel Bank was testing a new lighted pathway that it had built as a promotional stunt. Routes from all around the city, into town and to the nearest bank were lit up in teal. I followed the one that went out to Momo's house, and followed it, flying home.

The next day, Yelp reviews and online editorials discussing the party began to show up on the internet. One guy wrote about the Big Red incident, and seemed confused about why the party had been organized at some random house in the country, instead of a convention center in town. I was going through these and thinking about responding to the ones that were negative about the venue (i.e. my grandmother's house) when I woke up.