trout fishing

I had some snippets the other night:

• I was on a trip with my parents, sister, grandmother and husband to Italy. We needed to find a place to stay, and everyone was embroiled in discussion about whether the place we had found was acceptable (it was one big room with summer-camp-style single beds) or whether we should try to find another place even though it was getting a little late. Instead of enjoying the fact that I was in Italy, all I could think of was what a pain the trip was going to be if every day involved so much negotiation and discussion.
• I was rooting around in a refrigerator that looked exactly like our refrigerator currently does in real life: haphazardly stuffed with bags of produce of varying age. This tired me out and disgusted me in its blatant imitation of the more prosaic aspects of my life.
• I was at work, and my boss wanted me to knit a few things. One of them was a sleeve-like object, and there was also a swatch or two. I'm not sure what these were to be used for, but it was apparently a critical part of a project (projects where I work have absolutely nothing to do with textiles of any sort). I was really stressed, but I couldn't think of a way to tell him that his expectations were unrealistic and I would never have time to finish knitting the things.

When I got to work I told my boss about the knitting dream, and he countered by saying that he had dreamed that he had a trout stream running through his house. His wife, though, was tired of trout and told him he needed to find a neighbor's house with a salmon stream (apparently all the houses in his neighborhood had fully stocked in-house streams).

Beach Island

I was on some sort of trip with my entire nuclear family. We were on an island that had blindingly white sand. The beach was pretty, but a little bit terrifying, with massive waves that would spring up suddenly and engulf people playing in the surf. The tide was out, so we drove over the sand to where we could see the water in the distance. It was rather barren and disconcerting. The receding tide had left little pools of water, and there were whales beached everywhere. They were shiny and black and not as big as ordinary whales. I saw a smaller fish-like creature (though it was in the air like a bird) trying to pull one of the whales back into the water with his teeth. I don't think he was trying to save it, though; I think he was trying to take it home to eat it.

My family and I decided to head into the interior of the island, where there was jungle. We were in a hotel room--apparently my brother's--putting on sunscreen. My dad sat on the bed and said he wasn't going to go with us. I didn't really feel like venturing out into the wilds, either, but I rubbed in my sunscreen anyway.

The whole dream left me feeling vaguely uneasy. I seemed to know that I should undertake the adventures, but just felt a slight sense of foreboding and disinspiration to leave the comfort of the car or hotel.

Olympic Fish

I haven't posted in quite awhile because I haven't remembered many of my dreams lately and what I do remember is only just bits and pieces or really stupid. I didn't watch any of the Olympics this year at all so I don't know why I had this dream.

I was at a pool watching an event. Somebody decided it was a good idea to have people race against some fish. The fish had competed in the Olympics (I know, I don't get it either???). They were all racing to see who was faster -- the fish who had been in the Olympics or just people off the street. There were several races and the fish won almost every time. One of the people in the race was Michael Jackson. (Who would have thought that he would allow that weave of his to get wet?)

The weirdest part of the dream is that for some reason before each race, all the competitors including the fish, were rubbed down with soap. The thought was that it would be easier to see them in the water because you could just follow the trail of bubbles. Surprisingly, this did not seem to affect the fish. I noticed that the soap bubbles didn't stick with Michael. They'd rub him down, he'd jump into the water and then when he swam away, the bubbles stayed right where they were at. He was the only one they didn't stick to.

Ok, another stupid dream. But I haven't posted in awhile and just felt like adding it. So there!

al pacino et al

I had a really surreal dream this morning between punches on the snooze button. I dreamed that my husband and I were walking down a downtown street in some large city. We saw a group of people and realized that it was a mafia funeral procession (which I immediately knew meant more impending bloodshed). Before we could get out of there, we were recognized and coat-tailed by Al Pacino (who was surprisingly short). He started walking arm in arm with us toward our house, talking about how from now on we would be doing each other lots of favors.

At another point in the dream, there was a song-and-dance number performed by a variety of racist neighborhood residents who were protesting the "invasion" of their neighborhood by Asian immigrants. The ones who really stand out in my mind were a particularly vehement grandmother who swore she wouldn't step outside her house until the immigrants were gone, and a couple of annoying teenage male twins with hipster haircuts who made lots of half-hippy-half-gangster hand gestures.

There was another episode involving a fish who had been given to us by a neighbor who turned out to be a "world-renowned seafood chef" (thanks to Top Chef for influencing my dreams!). He had been fishing and given us a tagged fish, which apparently was somehow still alive and started flopping around scarily on our balcony after escaping its bucket.

Oh, and Humbert Humbert later made an appearance, reading "Lolita" (in German?) to a bearded female teenager who was sitting on his lap.