enamoured | I am never going to fly ever again.

Last night I had the crack!dream to end all crack!dreams. In it, I was one of the red shirts on Craphole Island--only the island was, for some reason, set in the backyard of my old house in North Carolina.

Highlights of the dream include: Sawyer complaining about running out of beer (where the beer came from, I will never know). Sawyer flirting with me and offering me all the notebooks/address books/blank notebooks that he'd pillaged from the wreckage because he'd noticed me writing. Me being on a plane post-rescue sitting next to Sawyer, telling him about my second cousins on my dad's side for some reason. My Game Boy Color (that I've been playing Tetris on a lot lately) switching on all by itself. Me taking the batteries out the Game Boy. Me seeing more of the characters wandering around this jumbo jet on which they were serving a buffet-style breakfast. The plane shaking violently--and it wasn't even in the air; just sitting so that passengers could load. Me being freaked out. Charlie and the members of Driveshaft walking towards their 747 so they could go on a reunion tour or something. Me pleading with Charlie to let all the people who were on 815 get on his plane, because wierd crap was happening on the other one. Me loading the plane, followed by Hurley and Shannon.

My first thought after waking up? That was like some seriously weird fan fiction.