A Difference Between Americans and Australians

I dreamed we were back in Australia.

Jack and I are at some kind of bookstore or museum. It almost has a Barnes and Noble type feeling.

I feel disoriented and confused.  It's like I'm suddenly not sure where I am. Are we in America? Australia? And if we're in Australia, how long are we here for? I remember that we talked once about going to Australia for several months. Is this what we're doing now?

It's kind of hard to explain this disorientation, but it's something I have in real life sometimes. It's that very brief moment where I forget where I am. I guess it usually happens when I wake up in the morning. I'm in Australia. Really? Really! I'm in Australia!

The funny thing is I'm STILL sometimes shocked that we've actually gone to Australia. I still have this disbelief sometimes. It happened the other day. I mentioned something; I think maybe about losing our cameras in Sydney. What I probably should have been shocked about it the fact that I managed to lose two cameras. But no I was suddenly shocked that I lost them in SYDNEY. Suddenly I was totally shocked that I've not only been to Australia once....we actually went there twice. I'm not sure why that surprises me. Maybe it's because a few years ago, Australia was a distant bugging interest brought on by recurring dreams. Now suddenly I've been there twice, and I have a blog, and....

Let me get back to the dream.

I start realizing we ARE in Australia. That's great. There's one problem. I remember cleaning out my wallet. I remember taking out the yearly pass to Sydney Wildlife World/Sydney Aquarium. Here we are in Australia, where we could truly put that yearly pass to good use, and I don't have them. I start wondering what we should do. Have it sent to us? Buy a new pass? Just avoid going to those places in Darling Harbour? Maybe I can tell Jack we'll go to Taronga Zoo instead. It's just too awful to pay full price for the aquarium when we have the passes sitting back home in the States.

I look at my wallet at one point, and see that not only do I not have the passes, but I also have absolutely no Australian money. It's frustrating because I know I have a lot of it back at home.

I'm not sure what happens next. We decide to leave eventually. For some reason, we don't have our shoes. They're sitting by a table or shelf somewhere. Two women are there. I need to excuse myself to get my shoes. They're very friendly. They say something like, "Is that An American accent I hear?"

I confirm that it is. They then mention that they could tell I'm American anyway. Why? Because I wear a bra. It seems in Australia, women don't wear bras. Or maybe they wear bras, but they wear them loose. American women wear their bras in a way to make their breasts very perky. There's this sense that I've actually heard this theory before.

We chat a bit. One of the women points to a building across from the one we're in. She tells me it's some kind of American military thing.

Then suddenly the dream changes, and I'm on a boat in the ocean. 

 I think I'm with military people. In some ways, I know it's a dream because I'm kind of hoping for something exciting, scary, and traumatic to happen. I want adventure. But I think what I want is an adventure WITH these military people. Instead it ends up that we get abandoned by them. Their boat separates from us. Jack and I are stuck on a small raft. The water is very rough. We're scared. We shout out for help. Everyone ignores us.

Then we somehow get out of the water. But Jack goes back in. That's a problem because I see a shark fin coming towards him. He's within a crowd of people in the water. A shark fin approaches. I tell Jack to get out, but he's happily oblivious. 

This is one of my recurring dreams. Jack is in some kind of horrible danger. I scream and yell frantically. He return my dramatic reaction with a dopey grin.

This dream is slightly different than the others because I'm not completely frantic. Once again, there's a realization that it's a dream. I start to think maybe I should give up and let the shark eat Jack. We're in a dream, so it doesn't matter THAT much. But I decide, even in a dream, it's distasteful to let your child become shark food.

I fight to save Jack. I end up grabbing on to the shark's fin. I'm not sure if that helps though. I don't remember what I did next; but somehow Jack ended up out of the water. For some reason, I had a little fish in my hand. I throw it in the water for the shark.