Sleepytime
I dreamt last night that I was a middle-aged Japanese woman on holiday with her extended family. We were touring a large resort in a vaguely woodsy, remote area with no discernible features outside of the many brown, plain buildings that we were weaving through politely. Then we got to the water park. My entire Japanese family got tremendously excited and wanted to go in immediately (even though in my dream the slides ended about 20 feet above the surface, shooting people into a long free-fall before they hit the pool) but I got stuck waiting for grandmother to figure out the shower-before-swimming policy, then waiting and waiting and waiting for her to scrub the smell of pickled vegetable off of her (she carried them in her pockets and gave me one, but I didn't recognize the shape). Then I woke up.I have strange dreams. Often.
Another time I dreamt that I got arrested, was handcuffed and pushed into the back of a police car. I was angry, shouting and banging the glass until I noticed that I wasn't alone in the back seat - there was a tiny brown-and-white hamster sitting patiently next to me with little tiny handcuffs on its front paws and a sad expression on its tiny face. We had a conversation, none of which I remember, and then I rolled down the window with my bound hands and flung the little guy to safety, singing "Boooorn freeee". And I woke up singing "Booooorrnnn Freeee". Had a bit of 'splaining to do to my roommates.
And then there was the dream where I was challenged to a fencing match in a giant, circus-like striped tent. I arrived to discover that my challenger was in fact a chicken, with a sword and vest. He was sassy, berating me and mocking my initial reluctance, so I threw down. We fought valiantly, it was a close battle in the beginning with swords flashing and fancy footwork on both sides. Then slowly I pulled ahead, the chicken's beady eyes took on a worried cast as I drove him to the very edge of the tent. The crowd was cheering madly, I was flush with victory. Then the chicken morphed into a big fat man, opened the tent, and jumped into a suddenly-adjoining pool and swam away.
Damn chickens.
Then of course there are the series of dreams that I'm sure many people have, where I am suddenly called to perform in a play/musical/movie and have absolutely no idea what my lines are (or many times even what my character is). I have to be pushed from scene to scene, fed lines, and am nothing more than a unstrung marionette parroting whatever is told to me. These are terrible, made even worse by the comments of my fellow cast members that "you're doing really well!!"
When I was younger, I decided to keep a dream journal since all the cool kids were doing it. The dreams that I wrote down were so confusing (one involved white water rafting and sheet cake) and disturbing (a series involving a bad guy with no pupils, only blue irises) that it only lasted a month. I tried in college to have one of my psych-studying friends interpret them using different methods. Her findings? That I was just a little odd and had a strong imagination. And Freud says water=sex so I have no idea what to do with that considering my water was never in conjunction with anything remotely sexy (fat man and grandmas? sheet cake?!). Now I see the dreams simply as unconscious storytelling and am trying to not take them all that seriously unless I need some good bizarre artistic inspiration. You should see my lovely painting of a mallard duck calmly walking away from a burning metropolis with a lit cigarette dangling from its beak.
posted by LadyJay @ 12:35 PM
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