One of my earliest memories was a dream. I was probably about 2 or 3. It was in our old house, and it was extremely dark, but the there were dim lights. I remember walking down the stairs, and seeing my dad I think standing next to a picnic table with plastic cups, and I wondered why it was indoors. Then I walked toward the kitchen and I saw a flight attendant by a podium, and she thought I was lost, so she made an announcement over the speakers. I went back upstairs and I went into the bathroom, and there was this lady facing the mirror. I remember she was very beautiful. I climbed into the bathtub, and foam started appearing, and filling it up. I went out of the bathroom, and I heard something from another room. I thought it might be my dad, who Id lost. In the room I saw a lot of figures kneeling and swaying arms, I thought they looked like Hindu figures. I woke up because I thought something grabbed the back of my shirt and was pulling me down, so I grabbed my mom's shirt. I still remember what shirt she was wearingthe mysterious hand grabbing me was actually just gravity.
I think I can perceive more of the world then I could at 2 or 3 years old, but I think it's strange that I can describe more of this dream than any dream I have had recently. I still think I am the same person. I don't know if there is a connection with the flight attendant, but I really like airports.
