Lounging with the Lady

My alarm didn't go off and I didn't wake up until the time I was already supposed to be at work.  Freaking out and wondering how to get there before the boss noticed, I slowly crawled out of bed and started getting ready.  Somehow Lady Gaga appeared out of nowhere about the time I was ready to leave and offered me a ride.  First though, she needed to make a few stops.

Gaga was dressed in white jeans and a pink t-shirt.  Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wore a ton of wild makeup.  She had the reddest lipstick I had ever seen.  We climbed into an old pickup truck that had seen better days.  We didn't talk much on the way there, although she reminded me that she had a few stops to make beforehand.

The first stop was at an art store where Gaga took her sweet time deciding on which painting she wanted to purchase.  We moved on to an office building across town and in the opposite direction of my job.  Lady Gaga went into an office while I hung out in the front room with the receptionist.  Some guy came to check on me after awhile and I told him I needed to get to work.  He said that Gaga was conducting business and couldn't be rushed.  I sat there seething for several minutes before resigning myself to the fact that I probably wasn't going to make it to work after all.

Bits and Pieces

These are brief and vague but it's alls I've remembered lately.

i had worked really hard at putting together some kind of party, putting in lots of time and money to get it ready.  after sending out lots and lots of invitations and doing my best to get the word out about it, not a single person showed up.  i sat around the empty room looking around at all the decorations for a long time, feeling sorry for myself that no one was bothered to come.  i woke up feeling much the same way.

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i was outside with a group of people at a park or something.  i don't know if i knew who they were or if they were just random dream people.  it seems like we were attending some kind of art faire, although i didn't really see any art or vendors anywhere.  it was really hot out and i was thinking that i should've brought a hat because i tend to get really vicious headaches from the sun (IRL and in the dream apparently).  i also remember being really thirsty but didn't seem to have any money to buy a drink.

Baby

Somehow, I had a baby. Theoretically I had given birth to it, although that part didn’t figure into the dream at all. In fact, although my baby had apparently just been born, it was beautiful in the way that few, if any, newborns are: it had creamy ivory skin, downy hair, bright eyes, and a perfect little mouth. Oh, and it spoke in complete sentences. That part was especially impressive. Even in the dream, that seemed a particularly unusual feature.

I marveled at the baby’s beauty and intelligence and I loved it intensely—I just wanted to hold it and stare at it and kiss it. And I could tell it loved me back! It would affectionately snuggle up to me, and since it could speak, it also told me as much, although I can’t remember now exactly what it said. I liked the way it would put its head on my shoulder when I carried it on my back.

At one point in the dream I was carrying it on my back while I attended to other business, and suddenly realized I was missing it. I remember thinking something along the lines of, “Awwww, man! I KNEW I wasn’t responsible enough for this!” But then I discovered that one of the women I work with had taken my baby and another friend’s baby to put them in a double-cradle for a nap, so that was okay.

There were several of us with babies, actually, including a grad school friend whose baby looked rather like the Renaissance baby Jesuses she studies, and I think my aunt Teri. I was thankful to have them to ask for advice. Near the end of the dream, I realized I’d never had my baby weighed, measured, or in any other way tested after it was born, and wondered if I should find a doctor to do that. “No,” one of the other mothers assured me, “it’s better this way!” The reasoning was something about not buying in to the idea of comparing with others, or false progress, or something like that.

In real life, I do not want a baby, although I do enjoy other people’s. But this dream was kind of amazing, particularly for the mutual adoration between the baby and me, an emotional sensation that has lingered since I woke up. In the past I’ve had very anxious dreams about caring for someone else’s child and something going terribly wrong, but in this case, even though the baby was (yikes!) mine, it was all very positive and generally affirming.

so random

Last night's series of dreams wasn't very interesting as far as the storylines go, but there were some funny details.

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I was somewhere with my parents, sister, and grandmother. We had been on some kind of outing and were getting ready to leave. We were in a weird, railroad-tunnel type structure (wood, with an elevated table-/rail-like structure running down the middle, with a small space to either side of it). We had almost gotten to the exit of it when a large javelina appeared in front of me. Either she (it was a she) knocked me over or I had already been sitting down on the middle structure--either way, she was looming over me. I was quite alarmed, having heard that javelinas could do a lot of damage. My dad indicated to me that it was my family responsibility to restrain the javelina while they got away, and then I would be able to extract myself (he wasn't throwing me under the bus, exactly; it seemed like the most sensible approach since I was last in line). So a tussle with the javelina ensued, with her eventually down in the little space beside the rails and me trying to immobilize her with my feet. The funny part was that she was speaking the whole time, although I can't remember what she was saying. I was struck by her rich vocabulary, though, and her excellent command of language (really, it was impressive, especially for a javelina).

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I was on a _______ (that's right, Alert Reader--group trip!). I was riding in a car and we were caravanning with another car. I don't really remember who else was there; probably a combination of past acquaintances and dream people. We drove up a very steep, winding road in some wooded hills/mountains and stopped at the apartment of a group member for a bathroom break. I went into the bathroom and started out with some freshening-up. I guess I was taking a while, because another group member came in (a girl I knew in the rather distant past) and started messing with the toilet. It was then that I noticed it wasn't an ordinary toilet. To begin with, because of the remote, hilly location it was some kind of special self-contained system, some sort of chemical toilet (she told me it was quite expensive). Also, it was "wheelchair-friendly", which meant that it had a rather complicated fold-out system that produced a ramp up to the toilet itself. She had helpfully decided to start converting the toilet back into the non-wheelchair version to speed things up for me. It was a rather cumbersome process, and--grossness alert--the fold-out portion had been covered with toilet paper lain flat that was soaked with urine [at least no excrement, but still, yuck!].

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I was on my way home from work and debating whether or not to go to a party I'd been invited to. I was very tired and had pretty much decided not to go. I stopped at a little health-food-y juice place/cafe on the way home (not a real-life place), and ordered some kind of snack. They had already started to ring me up when I decided to get a coffee too and try to go to the party after all (which I ended up clutching, un-drunk, for a good part of the dream before finally drinking it and rather shamefacedly just leaving the empty cup somewhere).The party was at a house in the country, given by a girl* I had gone to elementary and high school with. I went into a bedroom and found about 4 girls dressed up in bizarre, makeshift costumes (including something vaguely Mongolian, over jeans and tennis shoes). That made me think it was a costume party, but then I found that it was only the host's sister and a few of her friends, and the real party was outside.

On going outside I found a rather overwhelming scene. There were several folding tables with handwritten game rules on large pieces of paper (lots of cross-outs and corrections), and a huge crowd of people participating in some arcane game that I couldn't begin to grasp. It involved forming a large circle (like duck-duck-goose) and moving around it. Some people landed on spots with big, elaborate, ugly porcelain figurines of fantastical animals that were the prizes--they seemed very excited about them and lifted them up in the air. I gave up on figuring out the game and just people-watched. The most interesting thing there was a greyhound in a pastel crocheted jacket--she was very sweet.

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The last tidbit featured Picasso as a washed-up artist looking to re-launch his career. Apparently he hadn't actually died, just stopped producing. He was showing a few recent "works" which seemed to fall far short of his previous output (including some typed pages--?). I wasn't quite sure what to tell him, but he seemed very excited about re-branding himself in a new, more corporate environment.

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*An interesting detail here was that the girl and her sister were (surely still are) very pretty in real life, and my parents were excessively fond (to my mind) of pointing out how pretty they were. In this dream, they both had rather bad skin. This makes me a bit ashamed of my subconscious for being schadenfreude-y, especially since I liked them in real life and we were friends, despite my parents' harping on their looks.

prostitution, partying, and megastores

Guess who had another group-trip dream? This one was to Italy (or an Italy-like country). In the first part, I was walking around an old city square. It wasn't as idyllic as it sounds, though. There were various construction things around (those wooden sidewalk-cover tunnels, mostly), and a fair amount of trash. There were also a lot of youngish men loitering and walking around*. They were invariably small, kind of greasy, tackily dressed (tracksuits, gold chains, and curly mullets figured prominently), and they were all, in various languages, propositioning me for favors. The most common was "how much for the night?" I found that I understood perfectly what they were all saying, and a tiny part of me was exulting at my perfect understanding of languages I didn't really speak. I didn't take the propositioning too seriously; it was kind of annoying and unsettling, but I figured that it was a cultural thing and that they weren't targeting me in particular, just any female in a certain age range.

After that I was with my dad in a gigantic semi-outdoor home/garden/decoration megastore. My eye was caught by a display of wrapping paper on sale--there was a really beautiful Art Nouveau-ish design with red poppies, and some colorful Josef-Frank-esque botanical designs. I was trying to decide on a couple to buy, since I don't use that much wrapping paper. The more I looked, the more confused I got. I saw some very cute designs that were very original and would be really good for wrapping kids' gifts--but then I remembered that I don't give that many kids gifts. I finally decided I should just go with the two I had seen at first, since I had been there so long (my dad was being extremely indulgent, pretending to root around and be genuinely interested in the wrapping paper while waiting for me). Once I decided on that course of action, though, I could no longer find any that I wanted, let alone the two I had seen before. All I could see were disappointingly unoriginal designs that looked pretty lackluster up close.

I decided to give up on the wrapping paper and accompany my dad to look for some item he was looking for (which had been the original purpose of the trip). I commented on how gigantic the store was, and recalled that Curly Sue had told me of being on a business trip to Houston (??!) and killing time in a similar store.

After that, I was with a larger group (still in a vaguely Italian place) including my husband and some assorted acquaintances from college. It was in the evening, and activity plans were being negotiated. Several of us were lounging on a huge couch/bed thing, and suddenly a girl I had known in college threw herself down next to me/on me John-and-Yoko style. I was a bit taken aback at this sudden incursion into my personal space, but didn't try to make her move because I was cold. There was a lot of tedious back-and-forth in the group about where we would go and what we would do, and it became clear that the group members were all very !Party!Party! types. I found myself agreeing to go out and "party" with them. Not being much of a partier in real life, I was surprised at myself, and even more surprised to realize that although it was getting late I wasn't tired at all. Of course I woke up tired after that.


*An eerily true-to-life detail, from my limited experience in Italy.

sad but not traumatic, and no excrement!

I think my string of truly unpleasant dreams might have ended, although I had a somewhat sad one the other night. I ran into the guy who was more or less my first boyfriend, which is something I've dreamed several times (not because I'm still carrying a torch for him or anything, just because he was someone I cared about a lot and I've completely lost track of him). I was really happy to see that he was doing well, because he had been a little bit troubled when I knew him. He showed me a lot of drawings he had been doing (he drew a lot in real life), and they were really beautiful, mostly line drawings and slightly scientific/botanical/steampunk.

The sad part was that right after that, while I was still talking to him, a former elementary and high school classmate I had completely forgotten about showed up out of the blue, and said that he was in the army and was going to be deployed. I asked him where he was going, and he said Afghanistan. I found the whole thing extremely sad on several levels.

Now Starring Demi Moore as The Murderer

My whole family and the family that is super good family friends of ours went on a vacation. We went to see an art museum filled with some guy's amazing work, "They should throw him a parade!" [as an aside, I really wish I could remember what they looked like... then I could paint them and someone would want to buy them, they were AH-Mazing.]

Then we went skiing. First we had to cross-country ski, and we encountered and old man who cross country skied with a golf bag on his back. The bag was filled with clubs and guns, "cuz you never know". We nodded sagely and continued on. Then we got to the point where instead of skiing we decided to go down the Zip Line.

Everyone was taking their turn, and it was really fun, even in a dream to go down a ZipLine. It was at the bottom of the zip line that I learned that the son in the other family was dating Demi Moore. It turned out that the Ashton Kutcher thing was all a fake and she had actually been dating my friend this whole time. He just didn't want the spotlight, so they made up a fake marriage for her. Annnyway, everyone was joking that the last time they went down the zipline, she was wearing a full length beaded gown. They she appeared and everyone got really serious because also, apparently, that last time, they found a dead body, or killed someone, the details are a little sketchy, so everyone thought it was terrible of them to just hide the body instead of telling the police about it. They wouldn't admit to it, but they did agree to go down the zipline again, "in case there was anything suspicious". I took this to mean that this time they were going to find it and pretend like it was the first time they were seeing the body. I was relieved.

movie #1 in an upcoming apocalyptic franchise

I had one of the most elaborate "movie" dreams I can remember last night. Interestingly, although it didn't last that long, the plot followed the conventional story path to an extent that none of my other remembered movie dreams have.

The beginning was fairly separated from the dreams before it (which I can only barely remember, except that a couple of old friends who recently visited me in real life were there for a visit), but I want to say that part of the previous dream involved planning to go see a movie--I could be wrong about that, though.

At any rate, there was a definite beginning to the "movie" part. It was clearly a movie, although at the same time it was participatory--I was right there in the action, participating. I was seated on some concrete steps going up to a building, in a residential neighborhood with wide streets. There were several early-20s girls there with me on the steps, and nothing much was going on. There was a girl from my elementary school there, and she was petting my doberman, who was collapsed on her lap in immobile ecstasy from all the attention [I have a hard time imagining this person appreciating a very large dog in real life].

Suddenly, one by one, all of us were overtaken by a feeling of intense dread, and just after that a sensation of loss of bodily control, like everything was slowing down and we couldn't move our limbs--but at the same time, our bodies seemed to be contorting themselves of their own accord. It was very scary. At the moment when everyone had realized that something terrible and mysterious was happening, a mist crept toward the building from the other side of the street*.

This situation lasted an indefinable amount of time, and slowly everyone went back to normal, although we were still very freaked out. Then I heard sirens from several approaching police cars (from the direction the mist had come from, coincidentally). I was crossing the street when they approached, and was nervous about getting run over, when I noticed a circa-1960s blue Bronco approaching very fast. The young woman driving it seemed to be having some kind of violent spasm, and she then drove right into a tree, very fast, completely crushing the car. Just then I realized that similar things were happening to people in other cars all over the city (and possibly to pedestrians too): people were suddenly going completely crazy and becoming out-of-control in a savage, destructive way.

The next thing I can remember is being in a room resembling a cross between an old classroom, an "alternative" coffee house, and a warehouse. There were scaffolding-like things hanging from the ceiling, which I think may have been set lighting (this is important later). The room was full of the carefully diverse combination of people one sees in apocalyptic movies [the "people who would never normally associate are thrown together in a disaster" trope as plot device]. My husband was there, and it was obvious that we were both there as observer/participants and not really as "characters". I was a little annoyed with him for some reason, and sitting a few seats away--I thought he was being hyperactive and disruptive.

An older Asian man started to address the group, and it became clear that in this scenario, the U.S. and possibly the whole world had been taken over by China, making up a sort of mega-dictatorship. The man had a professorly air, and was talking about his life's work of designing and implementing a self-sustaining underwater city. He had a really beautiful 3-d model in carved wood showing the structure: like a globe composed of an organic framework, with a lot of little hanging lily-pad-like elements for the various components needed to make up the city. I'm not really sure if the model was physically there or if it was one of those hologram things sci-fi directors are so fond of using in movies.

Anyway, as the man explained his concept I slowly became aware that this was actually the dictator (he was also an engineer, as evidenced by the "P.E." after his name**). I got the impression that he hadn't really harbored ambitions of becoming Dictator of the World, but was one of those extremely cerebral people who was completely absorbed in his mission (the underwater city) and that he had been channeled into dictatorship by other parties who thought he would be the best choice.

The only other thing of note that happened while we were all in the room was that a young Japanese artist hung himself from the ceiling scaffolding. I'm not sure exactly why he did it, but it was an act of protest of some sort.

After that, the end of the movie showed a young couple arriving at their upstairs apartment (sort of an above-garage apartment in an old house in a neighborhood with a slightly gone-to-seed San Francisco vibe). It was understood that they had reached safety, at least for the moment--the perfect ending for the first installment of an apocalyptic franchise! It's hard to explain, but of course the couple was a parallel version of my husband and me.

At the very end of the dream, I saw the title art for the movie. There was a dark red background and a couple of shadowy faces. The name of the movie was incomprehensible. I couldn't figure out if it was some kind of symbol (Greek, maybe?), or if it was a very short, invented two-letter word or name. At any rate, it was in a stylized, slightly fuzzed-at-the-edges gothic calligraphy.



*I'm pretty sure this has to do with my noting this dvd cover at Blockbuster the other day.
**Yes, I work in an engineering office.

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And stay tuned for a dream from a few nights ago featuring a camero appearance by Lars von Trier.

wow

The other night I had the most visually beautiful dream in recent memory. I don't remember much of the storyline, except that a group trip was involved (of course!). I was in India, and the beautiful part involved exploring a very old hillside town. The streets were narrow and pedestrian-only, and extremely steep--stairs, really. A lot of the buildings were made of red sandstone, but I think there were also some buildings of white plaster and a few other colors of plaster. I went into a building with a fancy carved door, and it turned out to be a temple, with very elaborate red sandstone carvings of monkey deities all over the ceiling. The ceiling was arched, and the carvings were so 3-D that they stood out and hung down like stalagtites. It was one of the most mind-blowing specimens of dream architecture I've ever seen. And I got to see it twice--I had been exploring by myself, and then I met my husband and took him back to see it.

I suspect that if I ever tried a drug that produced images like this I would have a hard time not becoming a junkie.

racist photographer

I dreamed that there had been a big tornado in the city where I live, and everything was pretty devastated. I guess I had missed the action, because I wasn't all that concerned about it, and apparently nothing I owned had been damaged. I was looking at a collection of photographs that had been taken of the damage. They were really beautiful photographs, with a lot of close-ups of people caught in action. The overall effect was kind of a surreal carnival of destruction. As I looked at them I became very disturbed, though, because everyone in the photos was black*, and I realized that a lot of the photos were deliberately ambiguous in a way that would make the viewer surmise that the people in them were looting or engaged in some other dubious activity. I was really mad that the photographer had couched such an insidiously racist message in such beautiful pictures.

*This is not a city with a large number of blacks, which is significant to the point of the dream.

Driving, mountains, hairspray

I was in the car with my parents, and we were driving by what I recognized as Mount Rainier. It was much smaller, though, and I could see a path leading up the side of it with people climbing. It was sunny outside, but the summit of the mountain was shrouded in clouds. My dad was talking about how it was his mountain and he had a favorite special spot, and how he loved climbing it. But we passed two exits and didn't stop; I think it had something to do with the fact that although it was a nice day, it would be cold and cloudy at the top.

We continued up a winding road that is a recurring theme in my dreams. There were concrete barriers along the side, and in addition to some nicely done graffiti, there were huge oil paintings hanging, like a gallery. They weren't all that great, but they also weren't terrible, and I wondered if people ever just took them.

We got to a hotel, and in the bathroom I looked at my hair. It was very short, somewhat straighter, and kind of awesome. My red streak was particularly prominent. My mom had left some hairspray on the counter, which had an aerosol nozzle attached to kind of a structured mylar bag. I used some to preserve my totally awesome hair day.

I left the bathroom and found a birthday present my brother's roommate had sent to me--sort of a homemade scrapbook. I realized that she was quite poor, and that this was a thoughtful gift.

Art

I was at a friend's apartment, and there was a call for me on her phone. It was my secondary adviser, and his wife (also an art historian, though not at the U) was also on the line. He asked me if I'd "done the research on the Indians," a question I'd apparently promised I'd look into last summer. I had to admit that I hadn't and that I was a big disappointment as a student and scholar. It turned out that he was asking about Hiawatha and Minnehaha (which happen to be the names of two streets here in Mpls). I mentioned the tiny marble busts I'd seen of the two at the Detroit Institute of Arts, done by Harriet Hosmer,* and how much I loved them because they were sparkly.

*I looked this up just now, and they were actually by Edmonia Lewis.

get away from my dream, brangelina!

{I'm annoyed sometimes at how many of the same boxes my dreams check. This one checked most of them (school, group trip, career-related anxiety, procrastination, celebrities, family members).}

In the beginning of the dream I was somehow in school. It was neither college nor high school, really, more or a career-related thing (Remedial Career Planning?). We were either getting ready to go on or already on a group trip (I should just omit mentioning this and let the reader assume that, unless otherwise specified, all my dreams involve group trips). We were being assigned specific projects by a teacher/adviser, and when my turn came I was delighted to be assigned to design a coloring book featuring Texas wildflowers. The adviser hinted that it was in line with my interests in art and plants, and that I was wasting my abilities and should take advantage of this project to Get Ahead in My Career. I was really looking forward to it, but stressed at the same time because I had a sinking feeling that I was just going to procrastinate forever and either do a terrible job or not do it at all.

Against that cheerful backdrop, we arrived at Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie's house (/compound?). It was supposedly outside New Orleans, but the scenery was very western. The house and various other buildings were in a grassy area nestled against some small hills. Behind one part of the house was a big ravine with a magnificent view of a canyon and distant hills (more on this later). I was with an undefined group, but my parents and sister were also there. My sister wanted to take pictures, more because she liked the place than because she wanted celebrity-related pictures. We were both rather upset when I realized that my camera was still broken and that I hadn't brought any other cameras.

I think we were there for a meal of some sort, but it was pretty clear that our presence was an inconvenience, and the meal didn't happen. A haggard Brad Pitt was chasing a bunch of kids around. Angelina never did make an appearance. Brad gave some of us a perfunctory tour of the place, although when we got to the actual house it was obvious that he didn't want to show us the inside, and hadn't really been planning to--it was completely chaotic.

By "actual house", I mean a small old semi-renovated house with bedrooms for all the kids. There were apparently common living and dining rooms elsewhere, possibly in the adjacent newly-constructed house where Michelle Obama's mother was staying with the Obama offspring. She was very cute, pleasant and spunky. Her bedroom looked out over the wonderful canyon/hills view, and she said, "I'm a low-wage woman, and look where I'm living! Look at what a view I have!" I wasn't sure why she and her granddaughters were living there, but everyone seemed to think it made perfect sense.

In addition to the two houses, there were several other buildings, some of them very weird. I was looking at one, a glass building filled with strange apparatuses and tube-like structures, and thinking it was really neat and had great potential when Brad wandered up, apparently having escaped all the children for a minute. He explained to me that the property had been a cleaning business (dry-cleaning, etc.), and that one of the reasons they had bought it was to take advantage of the cleaning-related buildings to modify them into something architecturally interesting. He got very excited talking about it, and seemed to shake off his haggardness for the first time.

I think there may have been some press people there then, because all the kids started posing for pictures, piling up on top of each other. They were stacked like pancakes, flat on their backs, but just before the picture could be taken the top couple of kids toppled off. Brad seemed rather stressed about having to get them all stacked up again.

Blood on the Street

I don't know if Strovska's recent dreams influenced mine, or if it was the five (!) squad cards my neighbor and I passed as we drove home from school yesterday, but either way my dreams also appear to be extremely suggestible.

I was on my lunch break from some training session, and I decided to go to the bookstore or library on my time off. As I approached an intersection that I now realize was probably a version of the one where my favorite coffee shop is located, the GPS device I was holding, and which was apparently giving me directions, narrated, in an increasingly wavering and eerily prophetic voice, that there was "blood on the street at [street name] and [street name]." It was rather disturbing, especially as it referenced a location close to me.

As I was waiting on the street corner, about to cross to my destination, an emergency vehicle with a bright white light flashing above its windshield came sailing through the intersection, I think with a siren going. As it passed, I saw there was a decal on its back window that looked like one of those "crossing" signs, except the animal in it was what at the time I think I identified as a marmoset. I now think it may have been a marmot.* Anyway, I figured it was the logo of the emergency rescue operation.

I entered the bookstore/library and started browsing the shelves. I noticed that most of the books had very worn spines. Then someone pointed out that someone (one of the professors/trainers from where I had just been) had set aside a book for me--there was a label with my name on it taped to the spine. Apparently it was a gift certificate, specifically so that I could get this book. It was on Vuillard, an artist I don't really know at all but in the dream seemed to like well enough. I took it up to the counter, and they rang it up for me. I had $1.60 left on the gift certificate.

Just before, I had remembered or been reminded (sirens?) of the violence ("blood on the street"), and had looked out the side window. In the alley, I could see a car and a person sort of bent over on the street, with his back sort of torn open and bloody. I told myself that I didn't really want that image in my head, so I looked away quickly.

As I looked out the huge picture windows at the front of the store, I could see that there had been a massive car accident. Five or six cars were strewn along the street, variously crumpled. There were big oily-looking patches of some fluid, from cars or bodies. Emergency personnel appeared to be draping sheets over bodies on the street. I could see that the building just down the block from the one I was in had been damaged, with its front window shattered.

Overall, one of the more disturbing dreams I've had in a while.

*The weird thing is that when I googled marmoset just now to find out what one is, a picture showed up that someone printed out and stuck on our office wall (the one with the two babies clinging to the fingers). I didn't know those were marmosets. I have seen marmots in person.

Kissing

The other night I had a dream where I met up with one of the boys in my classes growing up. I always had a big crush on him, but we were in different cliques, so past 5th grade we never actually spoke. Anyway, somehow we started making out, and it was awesome, but his tongue was forked, like a snake's. Suddenly I remembered that I had a boyfriend and it wasn't allowed, and so we stopped making out and instead went on a secret mission around a museum to find my bf's artwork. When we sat down to admire it, he started drawing an exact replica, and I was all, "oh my god, I can't believe you can draw well!" Then we walked some more, until we found a bathroom. I went into one of the stalls and found him making out with my sister. I tried to tell her that he was bad news, but she just got indignant and said that I was jealous.

Then last night I had a dream that now I can't really remember, but I think it had to do with the circus and sex. I know I woke up horny and a little skeeved out.