Last night's dream:
Kingdom was on tour. I was standing on a stage with the dudes sound checking to either side of me. An old fill in was on drums. Confused, I shimmied over to Dave and hissed out of the corner of my mouth, "WHAT IS GOING ON?!?!?" He, of course, knew exactly what I was asking, and informed me that (duhhh) we were in the middle of a European tour, and (duhhh) we were about to play- opening with the song "9 Lives." I mumbled the lyrics to myself to make sure I remembered them. I did. Relieved, I evaluated the situation. I was on tour, and that was cool. But why was our old fill in there? Dave told me that the fill in had joined the band months before (didn't I remember?!) which surprised me since this particular kid was not good at drums, nor did we particularly like him. But there was no time to argue, we had already held playing off long enough.
I tested the mic and looked out at the crowd with the intent of introducing us but realized I had no idea what country we were in. I stage-whispered to Dave ("WHERE ARE WE??!!" and he, eyes rolling, told me that we were in (duhhh) Poland. POLAND?! I LOVE POLAND!
I grinned stupidly at everyone in the front row (they were the only ones I could see with the bright stage lights in my eyes) and proclaimed the following greeting into the mic with pride:
"Cześć Poland!" (Hello Poland!)
The crowd stared blankly back at me in response. I thought that perhaps I didn't emphasize correctly, and tried again.
There was no sign of recognition. I figured it was probably because I struggled with the sounds in cześć, so I switched tactics.
"Dzien Dobry Poland!" ("Good day Poland!")
I got very nervous. My stomach rolled in my torso, my legs rubberized beneath me, my brain got all tingly. A terrible thought had crossed my mind. But I pushed it out, and pushed on.
"Co u ciebie słychać?" (loosely- "What's up?")
I might as well have been speaking Spanish. The crowd seemed to have no idea what I was saying. They seemed annoyed that I was prolonging our set even more by chirping gibberish at them. I was mortified. I felt about a foot tall. A knot had formed in my throat, threatening tears at any moment. In a moment of all-consuming insecurity I asked the crowd,
"...am I... speaking Polish?"
I heard a murmur of confused "no"s.
"... I'm not? I didn't just say 'hello' and 'what's up?'?"
The crowd started laughing. "No! Not in Polish!", "She think she speak Polish? HA HA HA!", "That is NOT POLISH!"
I insisted to the crowd that I DID speak Polish, not the best, but a bit. That I was ok for a beginner. They disagreed. They taunted me, laughed at me, yelled for us to play. I thought to myself as I stood on stage, blinded by light and being ridiculed about this one thing that I was so very proud of, "I'm a failure. I can't even speak Polish."
Then I woke up.
Then I realized I dreamt conversational Polish. NO BIG DEAL.