A Most Vivid Dream

I know I haven't really posted about my tranny-licious weekend yet. I have to package it for writing first and let hindsight help me in a few of the situations. I also have to write a guide to code-names, much like the beginning of my thesis, which consists of names of reagents (people), their abbreviations, and their characteristics. First, I must write you of this dream I had, because it was so real, I woke up this morning thinking it had actually happened.

The dream starts off with Phillip and I travelling in I don't really remember where. The details are fading from my memory as I type. We're being Phillip and Alan as usual, laughing, judging, eating. We are in some country where my languages are of no use and neither are my international contacts. It's all up to Phillip and the thousands of language bits he has accumulated over the years. i don't think Phillip can say "hello" in Farsi, but he can probably say "I was once married to a tranny prostitute." War breaks out and Phillp and I are quickly thrown into "Omg, wtf, tranny" chaos. We begin running and make it to the border, cross it and are somehow in Sakartvelo. My territory. I instantly call up some contacts. We stay in Tbilisi about a day and quickly move our way up Georgia until we hit Poti.
We catch a boat to the Crimea and welcome ourselves to Ukraine. Evidenly Ukraine is in utter chaos as well and we, as hated Americans, find ourselves moving slowly through towns by cautiously running through old, maze-like buildings. This part of the dream was like an FPS, where you have several types of guns and can blow people away with napalm, but can't use that same napalm to bust open a wooden door. That is, everydoor Phillip and I came to was locked and we had to find a way to open it. We couldn't just kick in these doors, there were puzzles. I'm always confused by this. It's as though trees one day took the whole "Only you can prevent forest fires" slogan to heart and became fire resistant. I'm sure the headline that day read "Sparks Fly as Nature Decides It Is No Longer Flammable: Boy Scouts, Campers Panic". With wood no longer burning, a whole new industry arises, as trannies would now have to sell their old busted wigs as kindling. You know nothing in those weaves in natural. I like that idea, it's a great way to recycle and keep trannies fresh. I digress. Phillip and I finally make it through Ukraine. Instead of heading West, though, Phillip and I find ourselves in St. Petersburg.
Don't ask why or how, this is a dream, remember? The FPS haze disappears, and suddenly everything is brightly lit. Phillip and I are running through the crowded streets, trying to find the train station to hit up Moscow. Eventually, we find ourselves on the Trans-Siberian rail heading for Vladivostock. The train is lovely and Phillip and I are in Slav heaven. From there, we catch a boat to Japan and a flight to the US.

Two things I cannot stress enough about this dream:
1. It was so real. It had smells, sights, touch, sound. I felt things like fatigue, fear, et al.
2. It was Phillip and I together, running through the motherland is an apocalyptic destruction of society. Aka, although nightmare sounding, it was really a fantasy.