I’m supposed to be in a wedding in Las Vegas. We’re in a big complex with hotels and shopping centers. I’m in one area and trying to figure out how to get over to another area to shop for things to wear. There are tram lines, but do I have time? It’s getting very late. Then I have a car, a little convertible, and I’m considering whether to put the top up to keep the wind from messing up my hair. I end up not taking the car at all. I’m trying to navigate the parking garage and shops by escalator but having trouble finding the shop I need. I end up going down when I need to go up. I need to find better shoes, but there isn’t time, so I decide to wear my everyday clogs. I need stockings Â and go through my drawer and pull out several very old unopened packages of stockings. Most of them will not do, but one looks like a possibility. I pull them on, and they seem to work. Then they’re falling down, and I realize that there’s virtually no elastic at the waist. I ask someone for safety pins and find only paper clips. I make do and pushÂ them through the fabric, and miraculously they hold. I stop at a full length mirror on my way out. I’m wearing a deep midnight blue fitted dress and notice in horror that there are great big pink patches of some substance all over the dress. I brush and brush at the patches to make them go away but keep seeing more.
There is a basket of kittens, and everybody claims one. We put them in the cab of a truck for safekeeping.