Something that is not worth your time

This is what I wrote when I woke up for the second time this morning. There's no real great profundity to it, but feel free to apply your very own dream analyses if you wish. It was the first non-nightmare I've had in quite awhile so it was quite exciting to me. Also, keep in mind that this was written immediately upon waking and I have edited hardly at all, so absurd butchery of the English language may have been done. Forgive me.

I wish I would have written this dream down earlier (8:18 am January 23, 2009) –

Part 1: The Lovely Bakress and the Troll

I went to a cooking competition with my mom. It was also an academic contest that I in the dream had apparently been to the year before as one 20-something-year-old bespectacled boy reminded me with short brown slightly curly hair, and it had been the best food I'd ever eaten. He asked me if I had liked the eggs last time and I at first couldn't remember and just told him empty words like "It wasn't not delicious. I remember it wasn’t the greatest thing in the world, but I really did like it." He also congratulated me on this time being a part of the baking part of the competition and asked me how many eggs he thought we'd need. "Do you think 15 will be enough?" I did the math in my head with the number of people believed to be coming and the number was significantly higher, but I just told him, "probably."

He then remembered that I hadn't yet met my cooking partner and excitedly hurried me to meet her. However, we got stopped along the way by a fairly large woman (who looked extremely similar to my high school creative writing teacher) who introduced herself as the cooking event's coordinator. She redirected us to the before-competition meal. She separated me from my glasses-wearing friend and set us at our assigned seats. For that matter, I have no idea how we were logically arranged unless a random number generator was involved because I was nearly as far away as possible from my mother on the other side of the round table, seating around 25-30. I was between two boys that seemed to be young junior highers or younger. Unless they were child cooking proteges, which would seem to me to be quite dangerous and bad parenting to allow such a dangerous hobby at such an age. Knives and fire typically bring about unfavorable results for junior high boys The two seemed to be longtime friends and kept talking over me, well not over me, they were practically hobbits, but I just sat and watched my mother as I waited for the food. When the first plate arrived, I knew that this was to be an odd meal. The first played that was bought out was a giant decorated slab of red meat. They placed it right in front of my mother. The possibilities for a humorous joke to win the young ones over seemed endless in this situation but I settled on silly/shock value in saying something about how I thought it was strange that they actually caught and cooked a whole coyote and managed to keep it all in one piece. "No way!" the kids said in disbelief, but immediately returned to their conversation and i waited as the plates of strange exotic foods were brought in from every side.

Eventually somehow we made it through the meal, the director said something about the contest and encouraged us all to prepare for the competition. The majority of people went off to go shower and I agreed to meet my friend just outside the showers. I went in to take one myself, but the terribly great population of the communal male showers overwhelmed me and I turned around to walk right back out. Somehow though the entrance had been moved or closed off so I had to venture through halls of showers until I could finally make my escape, eyes still to the floor. I ran into my friend just outside of the building who said impatiently that he'd been waiting for me, as if he had something pressing to tell me. He told me quickly about how the event coordinator would be trying to get him and my partner's, so his and my team, out of the competition. Of course, dramatic timing brought the woman out to us just as a curse at her was uttered by my friend. She flamed up and immediately proclaimed his discharge from the cooking competition. I wandered back to the building in which the competition was to start in a few hours. I found out that the children to young adults were in one competition and the adults in the other, so I walked upstairs to a room of loud young strangers. Trudging about the room in search of my yet unidentified partner, I eventually walked up to our long cooking counter and glanced at what all was there. Not exactly knowing why I was there and trying to recall how I had gotten myself involved in this as I glanced around at all the cooking utensils I didn't know how to use and foreign spices, I leaned down and rested my forearms on the table and prepared to wait everything out. I heard a voice to my right and turned my head questioningly, "Do you think 15 eggs will be enough?" The ridiculous underestimate of the amount and the fact that no one seemed to know elementary math, or at least the normal ratio of eggs to person was not lost on me, I even decided in that moment that maybe I was only in the competition because I was in some country that did not believe in mathematics and I was a necessary commodity, but I only said, "People seem to be asking me that question a lot." Then it dawned on me that this must be my partner. She was really a beautiful girl, fairly tall, my age plus or minus a year, and with curly red hair in a ponytail, and then I realized why my pal had been so eager to introduce me to her. Two beautiful. people together...just kidding.

We talked together about the absurdity of the contest and when she began to talk about how she loved cooking and aspired to chef greatness, I admitted that I had really never cooked in my life, besides the occasional cake and poptarts. She laughed and agreed to tell me about how to cook our food list, as soon as we made it. We began to talk about ideas, she in actuality coming up with all of the good ideas of course. I was mainly only there to smile and laugh with her excitability upon coming to a great idea.

We had nearly completed our item list when the coordinator came in and immediately began to rebuke all of the cooks for standing around and not working. She raved about how they may not even hold a competition this year because of our disrespectful attitude towards the sport (and I believed she used the word tomfoolery). My partner immediately became upset and defensive. Ma’am, we have just spent the last hour coming up with our menu, and I know that everyone around here has at least spent some amount of time in mental preparation. You've kept us up here for hours without instruction, it's only natural. (She said something to that effect - I doubt I remember all her words accurately). The coordinator only contorted her face and spat out a few insults at the girl, most of which were completely unfounded and she turned to walk back out, surely with the intention of disqualifying her as my earlier friend had warned. I decided that I wasn't going to let that happen with I'm sure some amount of heroism or romanticism in my head in confronting the ogress for the honor of my partner, who had begun to tear up, but mainly for the simple reasons that I had no business being there at a cooking contest and I had a good deal of pent up anger at this woman by now. I yelled something about how she was an unfit judge and jury in this competition and went on until she cut me off, screaming disqualifications. My mother too was soon after disqualified (as I had a ride home), likely for being an unfit mother or some like business. My partner hugged me goodbye and I wished her luck and I was on my way. I spent the ride home apologizing to my mother who had greatly desired to compete, and that part of the dream ended with us driving in silence and wondering how the competition went without us.