Antihistamine Dreams, Icy Fall, Atmosphere Baked Chicken, RV on a Train, ComicCon Moment

      While I seem to have more intense dreams when I have an antihistamine night, they aren't always the most coherent dreams. Last night was one of those evenings where everything I dreamed was in surround sound, technicolor and feel-around. In no particular order I remember the following bits:
      Falling down an icy embankment and leaping out into the slushy snow at the bottom, flat-footed in an attempt to "ski" over the wet slushy mess. I ended up buried to my knees is soggy wet snow.
      I replayed the conversation I had with SCV about Chinese restaurant already being established on the moon by the next time we send astronauts in that direction. I think I was refine my idea about lunar delivery.
      Atmosphere baked chicken, guaranteed delivery* within 90 minutes and 90 meters, or it's FREE!
      (*Not responsible for damaged roofing or autocars, customer is responsible for giving appropriate GPS coordinates for touchdown zone. Caution beware: Delivery bowl will be hot, please for allow cool time.)
      Another SCV segment, SCV, Myself and our wives were in the back of an RV having lunch when I suddenly asked, "Who's driving?" Every one jumped up to run to the front of the RV. The front windshield was missing and we were actually being carried on the back of a flatbed truck with a forklift strapped down in front of us. "How come we didn't notice that before?" I asked.
      "It's convertible," SCV replied, "See, the window just tucks in to this slot here." He pointed to the sunroof.
      "I meant the truck were riding on."
      "Oh. I don't know. I must have got here while we were sleeping."
      I opened the driver's side door and looked out. The truck was on a railroad car, and we were on a trestle bridge across a very deep canyon. N went and sat back down in the middle of the RV as far away from any windows as she could get. The rest of us were leaning out trying to figure out what was going on, or at least where we were. All I know is the trees in the canyon were a mix of temperate conifers and elms, maples and birches. There was also a river flowing at the bottom of the canyon, but well below the high water marks along its banks. I commented that I'd never seen it before, "And I've read a lot of 'National Geographics'."
      I dreamed of a skinny girl in a bright pink wig, she was singing, in an irritating falsetto, a Japanese song. People were shouting "Rock! Rock! Rock!" and all I could think was "One does not simply rock into Mordor." I found myself wondering why I'd allowed myself to be talked into attending the ComicCon Masquerade again.