Lost in Translation

Last night I dreamed Luke and I were on a mission to save Alfred Hitchcock. Yes, you heard correctly. Alfred. Hitchcock.

The thing is, Alfred needed rescuing as he was in quite a dilemma. He had a writing cabin on the shore of a very dark lake in the middle of a forest. Each night found Alfred completing a chapter of his self-described masterpiece, his final work, on a black, manual typewriter. He would then stack the pages neatly on his desk before retiring to the comfort of his fireside recliner for the evening.

Sounds idyllic, huh? Well it would be had it not been for the mysterious man in black who snuck into Alfred’s cabin and stole his manuscript. Because of Alfred’s refusal to conform with the times, he had no computer backup of his work. The first time this happened, Alfred was baffled. He thought perhaps he had misplaced the tidy stack and that it would turn up. However, as the same thing began happening night after night he realized someone was determined to keep him from finishing his last screenplay.

That’s where Luke and I come in. We were alerted by messenger that Alfred had requested our help to get him, along with his manuscript, out of his cabin and back home unharmed. Suddenly, our back yard became a grove of trees and we stepped in.

We fought our way through the thick vegetation until we arrived at the mirky lake. I was very much afraid but determined to help this brilliant gentleman who could not help himself. We discovered a row boat on the water’s edge and carefully stepped inside to cross the water. However, I had to step more carefully than Luke seeing as how I was wearing a full length prom gown.

Yes, girls. If I’m going to rescue a famous playwright, I’m doing it in style.

Too bad the rowboat tipped over as we approached the dock and I was forced to walk on the grotesque lake bottom with my darlin’ shoes squishing in the mud while Luke righted the vessel.

After we made our way out of the swamp-like water, we entered the cabin to find Alfred packed and ready to move. Thick file tucked under his arm, we led him back to the dock and the boat. It was then I felt an arrow dash past my ear and realized we were under attack.

And who said the prom gown wouldn’t come in handy? I half-stood on the back of the boat (which had miraculously grown a motor) and shielded Luke and Alfred from the arrows with the thick tulle of my skirt. We dashed across the lake dodging several swimmers, all of whom were my fellow classmates in high school, while I wondered to myself why in the world they chose this place over our neighborhood pool where we’d spent countless summers together.

And that’s where it ended.

I hope we completed the mission and got Alfred back to his home safe and sound. More than anything though, I just have one question:

What in the stinkin’ world was all that supposed to mean?

I’ve had the teeth crumbling and falling out dream. The running from tornadoes dream. The not being able to remember my locker combination dream. All of those are supposedly connected to stress and I can somewhat make sense of that.

But Alfred Hitchcock? In a cabin? On a lake? Me and Luke rescuing him so he can write some weird movie? I totally don’t get it unless ‘ole Alfred is trying to communicate one last idea from the other side.

I would SO love to hear your interpretations of this one….

Aren’t you glad you stopped by today? I always said blogging was another word for ‘free therapy’…..