I Dreamed I Had To Take A Test In A Dairy Queen On Another Planet

I can barely stand the excitement of my return to every day life. Having navigated my way through the first three working days of the year, I'd expected my brain to be ready for a whole new world (don't you dare close your eyes).

Before the holidays, I was speaking with a co-worker about having re-watched Twin Peaks and explained how I felt it was like watching a dream unfold. He told me his sister had loved the show but he could never follow what was going on, a complaint I reserve for describing everyday life.

Last night, I had the strangest dream. In it, I was talking with my co-worker when his sister came by. I remembered what he'd told me about her liking it and as we walked to nowhere in particular, I asked her if she wanted to borrow the dvds. She said yes but I could tell she was fairly uninterested in the offer. I woke up and was immediately struck by how fairly uninterested I was in the dream.

My analysis leads me to the conclusion that after an extended bout of living primarily on chocolates and my rock legend status of Guitar Hero 3, my subconscious is presenting me with a latter day Christmas gift and easing me slowly back into life.

Tonight, in a bid to make no sudden moves, the plan is to dream up a blog post that amuses at least one other person.

Black and White Movies

I dreamed I was walking through a part of town I don’t live in and haven’t been near in years. The sidewalks were teeming with people pushing cases of all sorts of artifacts and items like books and clothes. It seemed like a very large and portable marketplace surrounding me. I pointed to a shelf of dvds blocking the entrance to a shop and explained to someone going by that some of the movies were from me because I wanted to help one of the shopkeepers who’d been in some sort of trouble.

The scene shifted to a subway type platform and a black girl was walking by me singing something very soulful but indistinguishable. I marveled at the sound and found myself again in a crowd on a narrow makeshift pathway near my office.

The route was marked with string and pickets and lined with hordes of children who were laughing and shouting. The idea was that you were supposed to pick up a trophy from a box on the right side and a badge from the back of a pick up truck on the left as you went along. I waved them off and they accepted this as they knew I was just going through to get to my building which I could now see across the street.

After making it through the crowd, I ended up at the foot of a hill that used to be near my childhood home. I started up the hill and was walking just behind and to the side of another black woman who I recognized but couldn’t place. I began telling her about the woman I’d heard singing earlier and she smiled at me and nodded while I talked and she said good-bye to me as she entered a house at the top of the hill.

As I started back down the hill, I realized I would probably be late for work and so I took out my cell phone from my pants pocket to make a call to my boss. It wasn’t my current phone but one I used to have. As I flipped it open, two dead bugs on their backs lay crushed against the screen. They were long slender bugs with wings and reminded me of earwigs.

I rummaged for and found a tissue to wipe them away with but then one of them stirred, flipped over and flew away. I could tell the other one was definitely dead but then it too stirred, flipped itself over and flew away. I was puzzled but figured I’d best make the call anyway. As I started to dial, I woke up.

Thunder Only Happens When It's Raining

I had a dream last night that I was on my way to a hotel in the town that I grew up in.

While I was walking along a crowded street, a small person with an elaborate clown face blocked my way and looked menacingly at me. I was able to go around her but shortly after I was on my way again, a rough and tumble blonde haired man stopped me and was shouting at me that I’d been rude to his friend and all she wanted was a cigarette. I fished in my pockets and pulled out a single cigarette and gave it to him and he let me continue on.

I got to the hotel which seemed to be a boarding house. I checked in at the front desk and walked up some stairs to my room. I let myself in and found the bed unmade, a lot of clothes strewn around the room and an open suitcase with more clothes spilling out of it. I called down to the front desk and they had a ‘so what?’ attitude.

The guy who’d made me give him the cigarette came in and it was his room. I was trying to explain there’d been a mix-up and he just sat there smoking and looking at me. I heard voices out in the hall and several young people who I understood to work at the hotel were out there laughing and talking. I called over a young blonde girl and explained the situation and the attitude at the front desk. She was very apologetic and told me she’d make sure it was cleared up.

She then told me that if I gave her a --- and she used some sort of slang I wasn’t familiar with. She explained that if I showed her I had a 20 dollar bill, she’d get me a deluxe room in another hotel down the street called The Princess of Wales hotel. I showed her the 20 and she told me to go there and they would know to give me a good room.

I woke up.

So, this is what I know:

I watched the Amazing Race and there’s a little person on it.

I read Bubs’ interview of Melinda June and she mentioned her dislike for clowns.

I’ve had smoking on my mind a lot since being in England where it’s practically law that you smoke like a chimney.

There is a Princess of Wales theatre here but no hotel by that name.

The only place you can buy satisfaction for a paltry 20 bucks is in my dreams.

Dream I Had

I was talking to two people in the living room of a house I long ago lived in and had to go to another room to get something.

Somehow I was outside and saw off in the distance at the entrance to a park near my house, a friend who I'd been avoiding. She had a brightly coloured very large purse and motioned for me to come and look at it. It folded out like a very large child's storybook. I shook my head no and started to walk away.

There was a storage area filled with dvds and I chose some and brought them upstairs. In bed was a really hideous man I see often on the commute home from work. He picked one up off the stack and gestured that it was the one he wanted to see.

He started to tear the outer packaging on the dvd and I got very angry because it had been borrowed from someone at work. I snatched it from him and threw it across the room damaging it more than he had.

He smirked.

I woke up.

A much nicer dream: Dream I Had II - MMOH

Cause Dreamin' Can Make You Mine

Last night's dreaming event went a little something like this:

I was in an underground parking garage with Lorena who for some reason now has a car and still no license? Riiiight. It turns out to be quite a beater of a car and in order to get it out of the parking space, we don't bother to start it, we just start pushing and manoeuvring it out of it's spot trying not to hit the other nearby parked cars.

We hear some sort of commotion heading our way and there are three thugs giving a couple of guys some grief. It seems like they maybe have it coming, like a deal gone bad or something. The three are holding guns on the two. In order to avoid getting caught up in this, we move to a corner of the parking garage. Lorena is in the corner, there's another person with us and I see an overturned blue Rubbermaid storage container. Figuring that I'll be safest if I just flop my sorry self over this tub in plain sight, I do.

They shoot their people and then the bad guys come over to us. There's a moment when I start to wonder how I'm going to escape this and before the solution comes to me, bang, I get shot in the back. I was so shocked by this and definitely felt a jolt if not pain. So I stayed put and pretended to be dead while they shoot my other 2 friends. They leave. The bad guys, not my friends.

After a suitable time has passed, I get up, pay absolutely no mind to my friends and start looking for a towel or something to act as tourniquet so I don't bleed to death which is what TV tells me will happen.

The wound in my back which I can somehow see is not really bleeding much, just a freaky round indent in my skin maybe the size of a penny. There is also a mark on my front chest where the bullet tried to escape but didn't. I do find a towel and wrap it over, under and around with little difficulty. There are always plenty of clean towels in the parking garages of my dreams.

Bye friends! I then make it home to some strange apartment and lay down to rest on the floor. I check the wound and it has bled enough to know I need to get some medical attention. So rather than call an ambulance or 9-1-1, I call John at work.

I sense that this is now California and he's working in some security officer type situation. I can't get through to him but I'm able to get a pager number for him. I get this all confused and can't reach anyone and then I have to call this dispatcher guy back. I never do speak to John.

But then of course, he's there in the apartment. He's picking up and straightening things and not paying much attention to me, the walking wounded. I'm walking around behind him with no shirt on and a crummy too small towel trying to stem the flow of blood and he doesn't seem to notice I've been shot. Hellooo?!

I don't know how to go about telling him so I just sort of say, I've been shot. And he's like what? but with no real alarm raised. And I'm like -- the alarm goes off around this point.

Celebrity Skin

It must have come from reading an online journal that had a post about dreams you've had involving celebrities and sex.

A lot of people seemed to have had some pretty interesting dreams and sex with celebrities. I remember thinking that I hadn't had too many dreams involving celebrity sex but I had dreamed about Matt Lauer, more than once about Lee Majors and Farrah Fawcett-Majors and then the other night, about Moby.

Matt: It started out on a hilltop behind the house I grew up in. A whole group of people were on the hill and wondering how we would get down. The lady from work most unlikely to do so coiled herself up into a circle and rolled down the hill to demonstrate. We all followed suit.

Next we were in a large apartment entranceway and I realized without any visual clue that it was Matt Lauer's place. Everything was swellegant and swanky and I kept thinking how jealous my brother David was going to be since he was the Matt Lauer fan and not me. Of course, my brother David probably wouldn't know who Matt Lauer was let alone idolize him in any way. I believe we were offered cocktails and then I sat down on the floor and played chess with Matt who was very personable. I don't remember much else except thinking that he'd better do something about that bald spot.

Steve Austin & Jill Monroe: I used to have a recurring dream as a child which I believe was based on a horror / fantasy type comic book I had read. There was a long covered bridge, a shrieking witch head up in the sky, some merchants on the bridge and general foreboding. At some point, I escaped the feeling of dread by jumping in the water and swimming. As I wasn't such a strong swimmer, I soon began to falter. Some sort of crudely drawn aquaman type (think Rocket Robin Hood) character would rescue me and deposit me on the shore. I had variations on this dream many times but at some point I remember having it and ending up in a cave with Lee & Farrah. Nobody spoke but I felt safe being with them. Farrah would smile at me and Lee wouldn't really look at us but I knew I was now safe. She was up on a higher level of the cave and Lee I think was busy figuring out how his bionics were going to get us out of this mess. Does this make her my Farrah godmother? Sorry.

Moby: So, I'm walking up a hill with a bunch of people (my dreams seem to be populated with bunches of people) and I realize that some of them are friends of my sister. We somehow figure out she is gay. I don't really seem too shocked. After a while, I end up realizing at some point that Moby is in the house next to wherever I am (no longer on a hill). I peer in through the old tyme screen door (wooden frame) and see a guy asleep on a bed. It's Moby. I walk in being quiet so as not to wake him. He's sleeping on a cot. I watch him for a while and just look around. There are floor to ceiling record albums around a corner from the armchair that I'm sitting in.

Moby wakes up and doesn't seem too startled to see me there. We make small talk, I'm a bit uncomfortable but he seems cool. He decides we should put some music on. We go around the corner and start poring over the albums. He pulls out a Bob Dylan record and mentions what a classic he is. I can't believe I'm saying it to Moby but I feel I have to and say that I'd rather slice my wrists open and bleed to death than listen to Bob Dylan since he's so overrated. I'm sorry I'm saying it but I feel I really have to. Moby isn't impressed but he's still a polite host. We go back to the bedsit / living area and there are a bunch of other people there. Someone lights a joint and it gets passed around and I take a couple of puffs. There is some chit chat and eventually I realize that they all have plans and I'm really intruding when they have stuff to do that doesn't include me. I start to make my exit and this is when the clock woke me up.

Oh yes, and I have sex with all of them. Okay, I didn't but I'm surprised I haven't done it with half of Hollywood in my dreams by this point considering I eat up all that celebrity crap like it's candy. I'm not alone. Society and it's fascination with celebrity: Next on Blogger Blahgging.

How could I have forgotten? I also remember dreaming many years ago about Max and Mr & Mrs H from TV's Hart to Hart - Stefanie Powers and Robert Wagner. Weird.

Weirder than that is how I was reminded of this dream. I was watching one of the ultimate bad ideas of the late '7o's - The Concorde Airport '79 and Robert Wagner was in it. Strange that I didn't remember my dream after seeing him in countless other bad things and Austin Powers etc. If you're looking for an explanation for why I was watching Airport '79, I think I'll pass on that for now.

Robitussin Dream No 3

Warmth. Darkness. Tranquility. Bathed in a nurturing life affirming fluid, I drift and roll. This cocoon of love will make me what I am to be.

Throbbing. Pressure. A far off light. Muffled sounds. What is this? What is happening? Am I ready to be born? Isn’t it too soon? I’m not ready. Leave me in.

Heaving. Coughing. Sputtering. Wheezing for breath. Forces propel me upright. Cough. Shake. Breathe, almost. I awake to find I’ve not been born. I’ve been left for near dead by the evil Robitussin. Stuff doesn’t work. Although I don't mind Wildberry as much as I thought I might.

Where are my cigarettes?