It's been a really long time since I had a variation on this dream, but just before waking up this morning I dreamed that my husband was openly ogling someone right in front of me.
I don't know what the context was, but we were seated at a table somewhere, maybe at some kind of outdoor event. To my left was a Diane Kruger lookalike. In addition to being incredibly beautiful and completely flawless, she seemed to have a perfect personality (unlike grumpy, neurotic ol' me). I think I had made a little superficial conversation with her because she was just so nice that I couldn't be antisocial and ignore her.
After we had exchanged a couple of sentences, my husband leaned over from his position on my right and started brazenly ogling Ms. Kruger-lookalike. I'm not sure if he actually spoke directly to her, but he was clearly completely smitten and I had hopelessly lost the battle of comparisons. I don't remember if I objected verbally to his ogling or if he just saw that I was disturbed, but in response to my irritation he started in on a list of her virtues and my deficiencies.
Up to this point the dream followed the usual template, but whereas usually I just slink off and disappear to nurse my hurt feelings elsewhere, this time I practically exploded. I first ranted at him that he was being really rude to Ms. Kruger-lookalike by ogling her so brazenly. Then I may have added that I didn't cotton well to his ogling of her either--I'm not sure if I verbalized that. I do remember going into his flaws, although I don't remember what any of them were other than a failure to do the dishes. I think I went so far as to say that I wasn't sure I loved him anymore. The whole dream was extremely disturbing, and the aftertaste was pretty disturbing as well.
Showing posts with label jealous. Show all posts
Showing posts with label jealous. Show all posts
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
gross and girly
I dreamed the other night that I was staying with my husband at my parents' house (they weren't there). I had apparently disposed of some leftovers (a lot of beans, and some other miscellaneous food) in the upstairs bathroom toilet, but hadn't flushed for some reason that seemed perfectly legitimate at the time.
Three girls in their mid to late 20s were there, for some reason I can't remember. Neither of us knew them, but their presence there had been pre-arranged through some sort of lodging swap program. We had just gotten home from somewhere, and I had decided that it was the perfect time to broach the subject with him of whether or not we were ever going to have kids. I have no idea why I found this the ideal time, especially with the three visitors in the house, but I was convinced it was the perfect opportunity, so I cornered him on the piano bench and started questioning him.
He wasn't as forthcoming as I had expected, and the conversation soon fizzled out. I was walking around the house doing chores, and he was in the living room messing with his phone. I ascertained that he was calling, or trying to call, a girl, and got very disturbed about this--especially since I took it as a reaction to my effort to get him to decide on the procreation question.
I decided to just stay upstairs and occupy myself with things and let him call whoever he wanted. I would then react as warranted to whatever ended up happening. Alarmingly, though, I looked over the second floor balcony and saw the three female visitors lounging in the living room in see-through 1950s lingerie (all three of them had very vintage/rockabilly hair and makeup). Great, my husband is in the living room making a "booty call" while surrounded with three women in various states of undress, looking like Suicide Girls itching for an orgy! I was quite unhappy but determined to maintain my sangfroid. The most annoying thing was my impression that I was expected to waltz down there and join in their orgy with them (even though said orgy had not started and was possibly only a figment of my imagination).
I went into the bathroom fuming and flushed the toilet. Unfortunately, though, the garbage had sat in there long enough to start getting fizzy, and the whole thing blew and splattered all over the place when I tried to flush it. There were little bits of decomposing garbage all over, including on my eyelashes. I went out to inform the charming group below that the toilet had exploded and that I was going to have to clean the whole bathroom and then take a shower (what better way to discourage them from including me in their orgy?).
I never did get my shower, although I did get the bits of slime rinsed off my face. The girls had come upstairs and I gradually caught on that they did not, in fact, intend to involve our couple in an orgy. On realizing that, I started to warm to them and we ended up in my old room talking about vintage clothes, various sewing and crafty things, and selling on etsy. I started rooting around in my old dresser and came up with handfuls of really neat old pajamas--lots of hand-embroidered silk and that kind of thing.
The whole encounter turned out rather pleasant, except that after having rinsed my face I hadn't put on any lotion, so my face was very tight and itchy. Also, I realized that since my parents weren't there--and since the girls weren't there to engage in an orgy--we had three separate bedrooms to lodge them in. The only problem was that the other two bedrooms available hadn't been cleaned in quite some time and were crawling with dust bunnies, which I found very embarrassing. (Garbage-spattered clothing and dried-up face showing messy and dirty lodging space to very cute, put-together visitors. Great.) I don't even want to think about what this dream says about me or my sense of self, but once again I've managed to generate a surreal and unwholesome list of labels.
Three girls in their mid to late 20s were there, for some reason I can't remember. Neither of us knew them, but their presence there had been pre-arranged through some sort of lodging swap program. We had just gotten home from somewhere, and I had decided that it was the perfect time to broach the subject with him of whether or not we were ever going to have kids. I have no idea why I found this the ideal time, especially with the three visitors in the house, but I was convinced it was the perfect opportunity, so I cornered him on the piano bench and started questioning him.
He wasn't as forthcoming as I had expected, and the conversation soon fizzled out. I was walking around the house doing chores, and he was in the living room messing with his phone. I ascertained that he was calling, or trying to call, a girl, and got very disturbed about this--especially since I took it as a reaction to my effort to get him to decide on the procreation question.
I decided to just stay upstairs and occupy myself with things and let him call whoever he wanted. I would then react as warranted to whatever ended up happening. Alarmingly, though, I looked over the second floor balcony and saw the three female visitors lounging in the living room in see-through 1950s lingerie (all three of them had very vintage/rockabilly hair and makeup). Great, my husband is in the living room making a "booty call" while surrounded with three women in various states of undress, looking like Suicide Girls itching for an orgy! I was quite unhappy but determined to maintain my sangfroid. The most annoying thing was my impression that I was expected to waltz down there and join in their orgy with them (even though said orgy had not started and was possibly only a figment of my imagination).
I went into the bathroom fuming and flushed the toilet. Unfortunately, though, the garbage had sat in there long enough to start getting fizzy, and the whole thing blew and splattered all over the place when I tried to flush it. There were little bits of decomposing garbage all over, including on my eyelashes. I went out to inform the charming group below that the toilet had exploded and that I was going to have to clean the whole bathroom and then take a shower (what better way to discourage them from including me in their orgy?).
I never did get my shower, although I did get the bits of slime rinsed off my face. The girls had come upstairs and I gradually caught on that they did not, in fact, intend to involve our couple in an orgy. On realizing that, I started to warm to them and we ended up in my old room talking about vintage clothes, various sewing and crafty things, and selling on etsy. I started rooting around in my old dresser and came up with handfuls of really neat old pajamas--lots of hand-embroidered silk and that kind of thing.
The whole encounter turned out rather pleasant, except that after having rinsed my face I hadn't put on any lotion, so my face was very tight and itchy. Also, I realized that since my parents weren't there--and since the girls weren't there to engage in an orgy--we had three separate bedrooms to lodge them in. The only problem was that the other two bedrooms available hadn't been cleaned in quite some time and were crawling with dust bunnies, which I found very embarrassing. (Garbage-spattered clothing and dried-up face showing messy and dirty lodging space to very cute, put-together visitors. Great.) I don't even want to think about what this dream says about me or my sense of self, but once again I've managed to generate a surreal and unwholesome list of labels.
Monday, August 31, 2009
...and again
I don't know what the deal is, but there was another Anthony Bourdain cameo. I'm beginning to worry now.
In the first part of the dream I was in the car with my husband, on a road trip. It was a more or less spontaneous trip, and we were just exploring. We got to a little town in some southern state. As we entered town, we started to see people in the street, like there was some event. People were dancing and eating, there was music, and the streets were really narrow so we had to slow to a crawl and drive through the middle of everything. As we progressed I realized that we were going through very distinct racial sections of town. At first everyone looked Central American, and I commented that I felt like we had been transported to Nicaragua or Honduras*. As we got a little further the crowd changed. There was a transitional group that included a gypsy flamenco dancer (everything was very detailed, people's clothes, faces and hair). Then suddenly everyone was African-American and there was a large man in a stereotypical "pimp suit", dark purple with a bowler hat, all his accessories coordinated. He was very spiffy and was dancing and juggling a little pistol.
We didn't quite know what to make of this, and we were a little freaked out by these progressive distinct racial groups. We arrived at a section of town with only whites, and they were also out in the street, eating stereotypical things like baked beans and coleslaw. They looked pretty redneck, and they weren't very exuberant compared to the other groups [I love how my subconscious reinforces stereotypes...]; they seemed poor and resentful, like they were fomenting revolt.
At this point my husband had gotten really intrigued and wanted to further explore the town and see what the party was about. We stopped the car to try to decide what to do, and in the few seconds we were stopped, a mulleted blond guy went around the back and bent down. I realized that he was trying to let the air out of our tires with a modified Bic pen. [In the dream, those clear ballpoint Bic pens had a screw-in plug at the non-writing end, and this screw corresponded to the screw on the tire, making them the perfect instrument for emptying car tires; I filed away this information as potentially useful.] We realized we weren't welcome here, and the vaguely menacing atmosphere that had been growing since the beginning finally registered. Fortunately our tires were still inflated, so we got out of there.
Later we arrived at a hotel/resort somewhere in Arkansas. I'm not sure what we were doing there, but we were planning on staying at least one night. It so happened that Anthony Bourdain and his crew were there too, to attend some kind of conference. We were all eating at a big table, and he was flirting outrageously with me (including a roguish and extreme version of "footsies"), which I found flattering but disconcerting. I had the impression that it was a compulsion of his to keep his womanizing skills active at all times, and I told myself that I shouldn't be too flattered by the attention since I was just the most acceptable option present for maintaining his skills (his crew members were apparently exempt since they were too constant a presence).
Later, he needed help organizing handouts and a PowerPoint for a presentation he was making, and I was coaching him on the fine points of labeling Appendices. I said that at my workplace we usually marked them "Appendix A: Such-and-Such" and "Appendix B: Such-and-Such", but then pointed out that the "Appendix A" was probably superfluous, like making a one-item list with "1." He seemed to think that was witty, and also seemed to take my coaching seriously, as if he actually needed help, which was rather flattering (not to mention that he didn't seem to look down on the fact that I had a secretarial job). I felt a little guilty, though, because my husband had gone back to our room, disgusted (I inferred) by my indulgence of this blatant cad.
Things were a little more vague after that. There was a subplot involving a very odd mixed-breed puppy, gray with black speckles and very sheep-like. I did a little bit of research and came to the conclusion that she was actually a very rare and potentially valuable hybrid (she had hair like a poodle, so was allergen-free). According to random internet sources, there were either 330 or 990 existing ("Figures of 1,110 are thought to be inaccurately high"). I was wondering about her potential sale value, but she was also really cute, so I wasn't sure that I wanted to sell her. She seemed like a very cooperative and malleable dog, to the point that she wouldn't really even require training.
Then there was a subplot in which I was arriving at a boarding high school. I was only there temporarily, and there was a whole other group who was also only going to be there temporarily. We were going to be housed in dorms with large, open rooms and bunk beds. As long as the temporary groups were there, each room would contain 8 people, of mixed genders. I was happy to realize that I had snagged a top bunk against the wall, instead of one of the beds out in the middle of the room. The only people I remember were a real-life coworker and a random guy from my high-school class that I don't think I ever talked to. In the dream he was a kind of proto-River Phoenix/Keanu Reeves, and we were all aware that he was Going to Be Big, so everyone was friendlier to him in the dream than they were in real life high school. There was a bit of subtle jockeying to get a bed near his, which he didn't acknowledge openly--but I could tell he was happy about it. A more alarming element of the dorm was the presence of huge cockroaches and even several rats, scurrying around people's luggage.
{Not only do I always seem to introduce the most unsavory labels ("pimp"?), but I'm maxing out the tag characters to the point that Blogger won't publish my post unless I get rid of some!}
*Of course I've never been to either place, but it was very clear in my mind that the scene looked exactly like either of those countries.
In the first part of the dream I was in the car with my husband, on a road trip. It was a more or less spontaneous trip, and we were just exploring. We got to a little town in some southern state. As we entered town, we started to see people in the street, like there was some event. People were dancing and eating, there was music, and the streets were really narrow so we had to slow to a crawl and drive through the middle of everything. As we progressed I realized that we were going through very distinct racial sections of town. At first everyone looked Central American, and I commented that I felt like we had been transported to Nicaragua or Honduras*. As we got a little further the crowd changed. There was a transitional group that included a gypsy flamenco dancer (everything was very detailed, people's clothes, faces and hair). Then suddenly everyone was African-American and there was a large man in a stereotypical "pimp suit", dark purple with a bowler hat, all his accessories coordinated. He was very spiffy and was dancing and juggling a little pistol.
We didn't quite know what to make of this, and we were a little freaked out by these progressive distinct racial groups. We arrived at a section of town with only whites, and they were also out in the street, eating stereotypical things like baked beans and coleslaw. They looked pretty redneck, and they weren't very exuberant compared to the other groups [I love how my subconscious reinforces stereotypes...]; they seemed poor and resentful, like they were fomenting revolt.
At this point my husband had gotten really intrigued and wanted to further explore the town and see what the party was about. We stopped the car to try to decide what to do, and in the few seconds we were stopped, a mulleted blond guy went around the back and bent down. I realized that he was trying to let the air out of our tires with a modified Bic pen. [In the dream, those clear ballpoint Bic pens had a screw-in plug at the non-writing end, and this screw corresponded to the screw on the tire, making them the perfect instrument for emptying car tires; I filed away this information as potentially useful.] We realized we weren't welcome here, and the vaguely menacing atmosphere that had been growing since the beginning finally registered. Fortunately our tires were still inflated, so we got out of there.
Later we arrived at a hotel/resort somewhere in Arkansas. I'm not sure what we were doing there, but we were planning on staying at least one night. It so happened that Anthony Bourdain and his crew were there too, to attend some kind of conference. We were all eating at a big table, and he was flirting outrageously with me (including a roguish and extreme version of "footsies"), which I found flattering but disconcerting. I had the impression that it was a compulsion of his to keep his womanizing skills active at all times, and I told myself that I shouldn't be too flattered by the attention since I was just the most acceptable option present for maintaining his skills (his crew members were apparently exempt since they were too constant a presence).
Later, he needed help organizing handouts and a PowerPoint for a presentation he was making, and I was coaching him on the fine points of labeling Appendices. I said that at my workplace we usually marked them "Appendix A: Such-and-Such" and "Appendix B: Such-and-Such", but then pointed out that the "Appendix A" was probably superfluous, like making a one-item list with "1." He seemed to think that was witty, and also seemed to take my coaching seriously, as if he actually needed help, which was rather flattering (not to mention that he didn't seem to look down on the fact that I had a secretarial job). I felt a little guilty, though, because my husband had gone back to our room, disgusted (I inferred) by my indulgence of this blatant cad.
Things were a little more vague after that. There was a subplot involving a very odd mixed-breed puppy, gray with black speckles and very sheep-like. I did a little bit of research and came to the conclusion that she was actually a very rare and potentially valuable hybrid (she had hair like a poodle, so was allergen-free). According to random internet sources, there were either 330 or 990 existing ("Figures of 1,110 are thought to be inaccurately high"). I was wondering about her potential sale value, but she was also really cute, so I wasn't sure that I wanted to sell her. She seemed like a very cooperative and malleable dog, to the point that she wouldn't really even require training.
Then there was a subplot in which I was arriving at a boarding high school. I was only there temporarily, and there was a whole other group who was also only going to be there temporarily. We were going to be housed in dorms with large, open rooms and bunk beds. As long as the temporary groups were there, each room would contain 8 people, of mixed genders. I was happy to realize that I had snagged a top bunk against the wall, instead of one of the beds out in the middle of the room. The only people I remember were a real-life coworker and a random guy from my high-school class that I don't think I ever talked to. In the dream he was a kind of proto-River Phoenix/Keanu Reeves, and we were all aware that he was Going to Be Big, so everyone was friendlier to him in the dream than they were in real life high school. There was a bit of subtle jockeying to get a bed near his, which he didn't acknowledge openly--but I could tell he was happy about it. A more alarming element of the dorm was the presence of huge cockroaches and even several rats, scurrying around people's luggage.
{Not only do I always seem to introduce the most unsavory labels ("pimp"?), but I'm maxing out the tag characters to the point that Blogger won't publish my post unless I get rid of some!}
*Of course I've never been to either place, but it was very clear in my mind that the scene looked exactly like either of those countries.
Friday, June 26, 2009
the haircutting copier repairman
I dreamed last night that I was very busy at work (as I actually am) and that I needed to get a haircut (which I actually do). Since I didn't have time to leave work during the day to get a haircut, I made an appointment for a house-call haircut in the evening. Apparently the guy who fixes our constantly-breaking-down printer at work also cut hair on the side! So I made an appointment, he came and cut my hair (we were living in a high-rise apartment building, weirdly), and he had just finished with the haircut when my husband came home. My husband started throwing a huge fit about this strange man being in his house and my having made this after-hours haircut appointment without letting him know. It was understandable that he not be completely happy about it, I suppose, but his fit-throwing was really out of proportion to the situation. The poor copier repairman/hairstylist (who, by the way, is not AT ALL "my type", although I couldn't seem to convince my husband of this) was pretty disconcerted and, instead of staying to eat, as we had talked about, I think he hightailed it out of there. Weird. I don't even think I got a chance to look at my hair and see how the new haircut looked.
Monday, April 20, 2009
snippets
i've had a ton of crazy dreams lately but have been terrible about blogging them...
snippet #1: me and recent romantic interest (rri) found ourselves hanging out in the ex-boyfriend's (xb) apartment. i was not happy when i realized where we were and even less happy when xb joined us in our hanging out. the xb showed the rri around the apartment and then it turned into the two of them snorkeling (!) through the apartment. suddenly it became the coolest place ever and these two guys were snorkeling while i was sitting on the couch. i was very unhappy as i could see that rri thought that xb was "cool". i wanted to scream "no! he *tricks* people into thinking he's cool! don't trust him!" but i kept my mouth shut for the sake of good manners (?). rri could tell that i was uncomfortable and he would swim back to me every once in a while and spend some time with me as if to communicate that he knew i was uncomfortable. and then he would go back swimming with xb out of what seemed like 1/2 obligation and 1/2 there was a frickin ocean in his apartment that they could snorkel in. in the dream i was very appreciative of rri's attempts at making me feel less uncomfortable even though it didn't help a whole lot. i could still see that he was trying and it meant a lot. i woke up irritated that the xb had tried to win over my rri. why was he always trying to steal people from me!?
snippet #2: i (along with and quite a few other people) was commissioned to design a new spaceship ride at disney world. only, when i arrived for "orientation" i, along with everyone else, learned that what we were designing was not a ride but in fact a real spaceship-slash-living system in an attempt to save mankind. the "disney" folks (which were actually government people) told us that the earth was in danger of being destroyed and that they were trying to find a way to transport all of humankind to outerspace before the destruction. they were not sharing this information with the general public, for fear of mass hysteria. instead, they put the "development site" on disney world property with a large wall around it (just like they do when a ride is being built in the park) in an effort to conceal the project. there was a lot of pressure on all of us (random group of people specially chosen for the project) to develop something before a non-defined deadline of earth destruction.
snippet #1: me and recent romantic interest (rri) found ourselves hanging out in the ex-boyfriend's (xb) apartment. i was not happy when i realized where we were and even less happy when xb joined us in our hanging out. the xb showed the rri around the apartment and then it turned into the two of them snorkeling (!) through the apartment. suddenly it became the coolest place ever and these two guys were snorkeling while i was sitting on the couch. i was very unhappy as i could see that rri thought that xb was "cool". i wanted to scream "no! he *tricks* people into thinking he's cool! don't trust him!" but i kept my mouth shut for the sake of good manners (?). rri could tell that i was uncomfortable and he would swim back to me every once in a while and spend some time with me as if to communicate that he knew i was uncomfortable. and then he would go back swimming with xb out of what seemed like 1/2 obligation and 1/2 there was a frickin ocean in his apartment that they could snorkel in. in the dream i was very appreciative of rri's attempts at making me feel less uncomfortable even though it didn't help a whole lot. i could still see that he was trying and it meant a lot. i woke up irritated that the xb had tried to win over my rri. why was he always trying to steal people from me!?
snippet #2: i (along with and quite a few other people) was commissioned to design a new spaceship ride at disney world. only, when i arrived for "orientation" i, along with everyone else, learned that what we were designing was not a ride but in fact a real spaceship-slash-living system in an attempt to save mankind. the "disney" folks (which were actually government people) told us that the earth was in danger of being destroyed and that they were trying to find a way to transport all of humankind to outerspace before the destruction. they were not sharing this information with the general public, for fear of mass hysteria. instead, they put the "development site" on disney world property with a large wall around it (just like they do when a ride is being built in the park) in an effort to conceal the project. there was a lot of pressure on all of us (random group of people specially chosen for the project) to develop something before a non-defined deadline of earth destruction.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
good dreams that go downhill
The other night I dreamed that my husband and I had taken a trip to Brazil. I was really excited about it because I've wanted to go for ages (that's where he's from). We were in a big city that seemed surprisingly European, in an older neighborhood. It was winter, which I think was why we were there--we had gotten a good deal on last-minute tickets because it was a low season. The weather was chilly but not really cold, and everyone was wearing sweaters that they had obviously taken out of storage recently, with very pronounced folds from being boxed up. I asked him if that was the coldest it ever got there and was disappointed when he said, yes, it never got any colder. Then he reminded me that no one had indoor heating and I felt a little better (because I like cold weather).
To my surprise, we were shopping, although I wasn't expecting to shop and wasn't even really in a shopping mood (he's not a big shopper). To my even bigger surprise, he started talking about a neighborhood nearby where I absolutely had to go shopping. He explained what street I should go down and what cross streets to watch out for. I was happy that he wanted me to go spend money but mystified as to why he was so insistent that I go (without him). Then I realized that he was just trying to get me out of the way so he could go meet someone, probably a girl. At that point I was really irritated because it had started out as a great dream and gone downhill so fast, and I woke up annoyed.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Then last night I dreamed that I ran by chance into a guy that I dated a looong time ago. I hadn't seen him for ages and was really happy to see that he seemed to be doing well and to get to talk to him. The strange thing was that this happened at an institutional cafeteria that was set up for some kind of event. The food was absolutely awful, limp gray vegetables and soggy fried things. I was wondering how I was going to choke it down, it was so bad. I was also wondering what kind of event they had set up, and whether I would make it out of there before it actually started.
To my surprise, we were shopping, although I wasn't expecting to shop and wasn't even really in a shopping mood (he's not a big shopper). To my even bigger surprise, he started talking about a neighborhood nearby where I absolutely had to go shopping. He explained what street I should go down and what cross streets to watch out for. I was happy that he wanted me to go spend money but mystified as to why he was so insistent that I go (without him). Then I realized that he was just trying to get me out of the way so he could go meet someone, probably a girl. At that point I was really irritated because it had started out as a great dream and gone downhill so fast, and I woke up annoyed.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Then last night I dreamed that I ran by chance into a guy that I dated a looong time ago. I hadn't seen him for ages and was really happy to see that he seemed to be doing well and to get to talk to him. The strange thing was that this happened at an institutional cafeteria that was set up for some kind of event. The food was absolutely awful, limp gray vegetables and soggy fried things. I was wondering how I was going to choke it down, it was so bad. I was also wondering what kind of event they had set up, and whether I would make it out of there before it actually started.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
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.
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.
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