I remember dreaming last night (or early this morning) about London or being in London. It was probably the second part of my night's dream (the first one involved a beach, I recall). I have no idea what London looks like but it had a Manhattan-like skyline. Of course, the row houses are there, typical of a London setting. I rode a bus from the airport and going inside an apartment and wanting to go up the highest floor to get a view of the entire city. For some reason, I was there to look for Eric Idle. So I press one of the top floors on the, ahem, lift, 102nd floor, I think. Then I was talking to this old lady about how expensive things there are, and how relatively cheap they are at home. I walk into this street bazaar and see the pricey merchandise. By this time, it had started raining. I remember going on top of the roof of a tall building that has a tent on it, because of the rain. Neil Gaiman was there and for some reason I thought, Aimee Mann, and Neil was signing autographs for her. Anyway, I was looking down at the building across and my company's opening an office in a simple celebration. By then I had bored myself into waking up, and that's about it.
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Ok, so how I did I come up with that? Usually, my dreams (like almost anybody else) come from stray memories and small details. V for Vendetta, the most recent book I read was set in London. College blockmate Nestor went to London and blogged about it. The office sends people to England, but not particularly London. I have deep-down desires of being sent overseas or just traveling and touring. Eric Idle probably because I was thinking about watching Monty Python's Life of Brian
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