Actually, last night's was more detailed than that, now I think about it. There were punks on a bus, one of whom I knew because I'd been stalking her boyfriend (actually I think she was a very very punk thepussykat, whose partner I certainly haven't stalked, but hey) and a woman a bit like Jo Brand, and then when I got home (in Sussex. on a 77 bus from London. Eh.) I became Harry Potter, and I was watching Draco Malfoy climb a thornbush full of glowing scrabble letters, reaching for the K at the top because Ginny Weasley was playing Scrabble somewhere and he wanted to stop her having the K. No, I don't know either. In any case, then he caught sight of a small jewellery box on the ground on the other side of the bush, so he climbed back down it (covered in thorns, obviously) to retrieve said box. I kept pushing my glasses up my nose and telling him it was a bad idea. He opened the box anyway - there was a rather pretty diamond ring in it, with a sheet of paper saying "THIS IS A CURSED RING DO NOT PUT IT ON REPETE DO NOT". So of course, he tried to put it on, but it wouldn't fit. At that moment an elegant black cat wandered by, looked at him impatiently, waved her tail, and the ring became a size larger. He slid it onto his finger.
Nothing happened. Then I woke up. ~s~
thalinoviel is, somewhat unexpectedly, coming over today. ~looks around~ Ah, heck, I have so much tidying to do. Before 11.30, obviously, because I can hardly miss CD:UK, now can I?