Okay, now that I have more time, I can properly explain my weird dream with French Avant Guard or Bohemian or something performers.

So somehow I'm in France, Paris to be exact. A friend and I are walking around this really bohemian/eccentric area of Paris with odd theaters and shops, boutiques and such of randomness. And somehow we stumble upon a cafe attached to a theater in this weird four-story-walk up and they are having an editing session. Somehow I am carrying the printed off manuscript to Through the Woods, and I hand it off to someone to edit it. My friend then drags me off to some clothing store and we're gone for a while.

I come back, looking for my manuscript (my friend has disappeared now), and I finally find one of the eccentric theater people reading it. I ask for it back, and the woman says "No, we're rehearsing." I ask what they're rehearsing, and she says "The Through the Woods play, it's amazing!" I tell her I wrote it and I hadn't meant it to be a play. She then calls all the theater people (think of how the people in the musical/movie Rent are dressed) into the room and they gush and go off on how amazing the play is going to be and how honored they are to meet the author. I'm flattered and they ask me to stay and help direct and make sure "their vision stays true to the essence of the story." I agree and somehow time flashes forward to a few weeks later and the final dress rehearsal is going on and a big snow storm is happening outside. The "vision" of the play is very performance art and interpretive dance inspired. Just weird, but it was brilliant in the dream. Since my friend has abandoned me in Paris, I had been staying in the odd upstairs apartments of the theater building, but they are all being used now by other actors. People offered me a place to stay at their flats, but this one guy, I think the actor who plays Liam in Through the Woods (if you read it, you'd know who that is!) says I can stay there.

Apparently through the whole rehearsal process, a weird unspoken attraction had built between us. He's tall and lean with reddish brown hair and these green-shaded John Lennon glasses and he's just gorgeous. Unknown to me another actor, this short, pudgy, moleish looking man had become obsessed with me (as the author of the "play") and now plotted against us being together. The next night is opening night and the house is packed and after the play and the numerous curtain calls, the actors call me out on stage to address the audience. I thank them for coming and then start gushing and crying because my dream of having a story I wrote come to life in such a dramatic and moving way was finally realized.

Then the heavy main curtain fell suddenly and I think it crushed me. I don't quite remember because I was startled awake by a caterwauling Diesel.