Then I am in a Vietnamese theme park, getting on a dark ride that apparently has optional CGI effects. Of course I, seated on the end, unknowingly activate them so the scare factor escalates. This from the girl who hates the snake on Indiana Jones. So, the ride ends but I am stuck in my seat and staring down a return trip. I manage to wriggle out at the last minute, making unhappy Vietnamese teens wait while the ride is reset.
Then I can't find something. I search amid the vaguely Costco-like landscape. The ride owner/operator -- inexplicably Caucasian, and creepy in a Christopher Walken kind of way -- locates a rumpled, torn paper bag with a holiday figurine inside. He says they sell them in the gift shop but I recognize it and know I brought it with me (to Vietnam) when my eyes find the address of a family member penciled in the bottom of the sack.
Then I can't find something. I search amid the vaguely Costco-like landscape. The ride owner/operator -- inexplicably Caucasian, and creepy in a Christopher Walken kind of way -- locates a rumpled, torn paper bag with a holiday figurine inside. He says they sell them in the gift shop but I recognize it and know I brought it with me (to Vietnam) when my eyes find the address of a family member penciled in the bottom of the sack.
???!
I have often felt I could make a bundle selling my scariest dreams to Hollywood. Of course I refuse to do so on principle.
Overheard
Me: What time did you get up this morning?
Him: It was 5:55 the first time, then 6:10 the second time.
Me: Was I in any way coherent either of those times?
Him: No. You were pretty wiped out.
Me: Probably because I'd been running around a theme park in Vietnam.
Overheard
Me: What time did you get up this morning?
Him: It was 5:55 the first time, then 6:10 the second time.
Me: Was I in any way coherent either of those times?
Him: No. You were pretty wiped out.
Me: Probably because I'd been running around a theme park in Vietnam.






