Video store and creamed corn

I pulled up at a movie store with my ex husband. I told him we should have gone back home first, because I had a buy one, get one free coupon. He said he didn't care, it was only a $2 rental anyway.

We went inside and I was standing at the counter while he looked around. I was waiting to talk to someone about a rental, but the woman was in conversation with a customer. She had blonde hair, kind of a big hairdo like a bouffant, and big glasses. She was sort of interrogating the woman in front of her, she was an older also. The movie case was on the counter and it was very large, like it had 3 vHS tapes in it. The woman behind the counter was asking about the movie, prying her for information about how much she knew about the movie. The customer was stumbling over her words, as if she hadn't watched the movie. The woman stared at her, narrowing her eyes and said "wasn't it interesting when they started going out and the fights they had?" The customer nervously laughed and said "um yea." She was then looking over her shoulder around the store.

The customer walked away and the woman said "so she wanted a refund on the full purchase price, but she didn't even watch the movie or return the popcorn." She rang up $6.42 on the register and laughed, shaking her head. I remember thinking, she still owed the customer a lot of money like another $45.

People were viewing the movies on small TV's that were set up at many stations around the store. It looked like computer stations on desks, all very close together. The desks were light colored wood with a laquer over them, so they were shiny, and they had a curve shape to them like an S.

I was walking through the store trying to find an empty place, but people were everywhere. I found one that was empty, but the desk was turned the wrong way and I couldn't reach the keyboard or monitor.

I found my ex husband in the store watching a movie. I poked him on the side, and he gave me a very angry look. I remembered thinking at that time, "he's so much different than the man I just dated. Why did I go back to him? My friends are going to really let me have it for this decision." My mind was racing about our relationship and all the times we fought. I thought of how it ended and I swore I would never be with him again. I thought about all the times I'd cried over him, as I stood there staring at him watching some movie and ignoring me. I thought I should end all contact with him before we got any further into it.

I started to look at the monitor next to him to watch a movie, but I couldn't remember the movie I wanted to watch. I wanted to see whatever movie the customer was talking about earlier, but I didn't know anything about it or the title. I walked back toward the counter, and found the same employee who interrogated the woman earlier walking by. I stopped her and asked generically if I could get a movie. She said "what movie?" She smiled at me, like I was some stupid girl. I said "you know that movie with that one guy, I can't remember his name. He got together with that woman, I can't remember her name either." She said "what is the name of it?" I said "I can't remember." She asked "what did the cover look like?" I thought it had two people, maybe in a wheat field, but I really wasn't sure. She asked if I wanted to preview something. I said yes.

I went and laid down on a bed that looked like a hospital bed on wheels, but with a big thick foam mattress. The mattress, sheets and the blanket were all cream colored like the wood in the store. I pulled the covers up and put some headphones on to listen.

My cell phone rang. When I looked at the number, I thought it was my ex husband looking for me. I answered it, and it was my friend's father. He was saying in the background to my friend "is it ok if I tell her where we are?" She mumbled something, then he said "we are at a furniture store and she wanted to know if you had to pay for delivery when you bought your bedroom set." I said "I did but they bring the furniture up one flight of stairs and put it together for you. They will even take apart your old set, so you don't have to worry about it." I envisioned the old set she had, and recalled the story she told me of how difficult it was to get it into her room. He was repeating what I said, then he said "but they won't deliver it to the second floor." I clarified "they will, in your house there is only one set of stairs. They will bring it up the one flight of stairs." The woman who worked at the video store was staring at me the movie case in her hand. It looked like she was waiting to talk to me. I started to feel rushed in my conversation. My friend said "well I can hoist it up into my bedroom window." I said "they deliver - aren't you listening to me? You don't have to take it through the window, they carried the boxes into my room and set it up. You would only have to move your current set out of the way." She said "Oh really? I don't think I'm ready for this right now, it's too much work." She seemed irritated and her father was trying to reason with her in the background. I said "I told you they deliver because I thought that would encourage you - not discourage you. I don't think you're understanding what I'm saying to you." She rushed off the phone.

The woman approached me with a video and I realized I hadn't been wearing my clothes anymore. I was naked under the blanket. I hurriedly tried to put them back on, while she was talking. I hoped no one would notice.

I heard my friend Jen's voice calling to me and when I looked over, there was a stairway leading up to another level where a kitchen was. She was putting away dinner she'd made and asked me if I wanted some corn. I said "no thanks" and when I turned back around, I was in her house, in the middle of the living room and laying on the same bed. She came over and said "I knew we shouldn't have made so much, I really don't like creamed corn. My father insisted that I make it because everyone usually eats it all." She was dumping a colander upside down, onto what looked like a bucket on the floor. I wondered why she didn't do that in the sink, then I woke up.

ugh and ugh

I've had several unpleasant dreams lately. Here are a couple (breaking them up so as not to overload the tag limit).

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I was on yet another group trip, this time to Hong Kong, with a group made up largely of young and youngish Asian women. We had just arrived, and our first stop was a large park on the top of hill so high it might better be called a mountain. There was a spectacular view, and the mountain/hill itself was covered with green vegetation. The park was very touristy, with a gigantic parking lot, a bus station (we came by bus), and lots of touristy amenities.

Instead of confining ourselves to gawking at the scenery, we were supposed to doing a craft activity. It was one of those very specific, structured projects with little room for individual variation (I think some kind of paper folding was involved). I had been vigorously reproached by the tour guide for my clumsy American lack of politesse, grace, and social nicety, and I was trying desperately to prove my worthiness by perfectly executing the craft project. This backfired on me, though, since as a result of my care I took too long and was still working on it when the rest of the group had finished. Of course the guide was unhappy about my slowness.

After the craft fiasco, we all went to a restaurant to eat lunch. Because I had been so focused on my project, I hadn't changed my money at the nearby exchange kiosk like everyone else had, so I had no Chinese money. Since the whole place was so extremely touristy, I was clinging to the hope that they might accept payment in dollars. On entering the restaurant, which was cafeteria style, I realized that wouldn't be an option, but the extremely nice girl in front of me in line offered to pay and I could pay her back later.

So all seemed to be going reasonably well, until I tripped with my plate of food and spilled it all over. I was confused at this unexpected catastrophe, and went to get a refill. I was so shaken by my showy accident (food went all over) that I didn't stop to think that they would want payment for my replacement food. I guess I consumed it, because the next thing I remember was a confrontation with a cleaver-wielding chef who demanded payment (and not in dollars). He insinuated that I would be pursued by gangsters if I didn't pay up.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

In another unpleasant dream, I was working as a secretary in a large and somewhat weird building. My boss was the woman who in real life is the boss for the business occupying the first two floors of my real-life office building. We all have the impression that she's much stricter than her predecessor, although that's not based on a lot of data.

I was working away, although my job (like my actual, real-life job) didn't require a whole lot. I wasn't actively loafing, so I had no reason to be on the lookout for a scolding of any kind, but the boss came looking for me, extremely angry. She started ranting and raving about how I couldn't "control the infrastructure". I finally realized that she was referring to some cars that were parked illegally downstairs, one in an actual space and a couple in a grassy area next to a sidewalk. None of these cars were in places where I could have seen them from any of the windows--I would have to have been outside, and thus not inside doing my job. I tried to tell her this, but there was no reasoning with her, and she insinuated that I might lose my job over not having called a tow truck*.


*In my real-life job we have limited parking space, and it falls to me to call the tow truck, which I must admit I sometimes do with relish if the car is expensive and parked directly in front of the very visible "no parking" sign. There has been some hinting on the part of a coworker that I'm mean for calling the tow truck (I actually have only called a very few times, and never for very battered, run-down cars that, to my mind, indicate someone operating on less than a full share of resources); other people are perhaps more strict than me regarding cars that don't belong there, so I feel like I'll be seen as not doing my job if I don't deal with it when a car is parked in one of our spots. Apparently this car-towing thing causes me angst than I might have thought.

war of the gender stereotypes

In one part of my dream night before last, I was driving in a nice, leafy urban neighborhood. Suddenly there was a loud explosion not too far in front of me, and I realized it was a car exploding. The explosion was very dramatic, with lots of dark gray smoke, and it completely vaporized the car--no subsequent burning car, practically no debris, nothing. There was an object where the car had been, and I realized with some alarm that it was the woman who had been driving. She was in remarkably good shape seeing that the car had been destroyed, but it was obvious she was seriously injured (although there wasn't really any blood; there hardly ever seems to be any blood in even my most violent dreams). Several passersby ran up to her, and I guess I did too, because I remember looking down at her feebly moving her arms and whispering, "help me!". A couple of proactive types were hovering over her, so I figured the most useful thing for me to do would be to call 911 (not being a proactive type myself). I went back to the car and started dialing, but my hands were shaking so badly that it took about 10 tries to get to the operator; each time I would either mis-dial, accidentally hang up, accidentally press the button for the internet browser, etc. It was very alarming, a new twist on that dream where you can't lock the door against the pursuing Bad Guy.

The next thing I remember, I was in an unfamiliar house where I lived (temporarily, I think) with my parents in addition to my husband. Things are a little hazy here, but there was some yelling between me and my mother and/or my husband--I can't remember who was yelling at who, although I think I was giving as good as I got.

Apart from fighting with family members, I was making some kind of concoction of onions, corn, canned beans, and some other miscellaneous ingredients. I went off to take a break while it was cooking, and ended up watching the ultimate chick flick on a tv in a spare room. Diane Lane, or a reasonable facsimile, was the female lead, and Viggo Mortensen (or, again, a doppelganger) was the male lead. She was falling into his arms (of course), and there was some of that requisite chick-flick music-less slow-dancing around the room. She got very emotional and started talking about how lonely she had been, and he said something totally unrealistic (but very chick-flicky) about how now she would never have to be lonely again because he was there to love her. I was simultaneously enthralled and disgusted, and also a little disgusted at myself because I realized that I wouldn't, in theory, at all mind a world in which people said that kind of thing to me (Viggo's line, not Diane's); although I could do without the slow-dancing-around-the-room stuff.

After the chick flick, I saw an iphone-like cell phone lying around and started messing with it (I think it belonged to my husband, who was off at work). There was an animated movie on it, and I guess I figured it would be a palate-cleanser after the extreme romance-novel thing I'd just watched. The drawing style was interesting, very stylized and a little more hand-drawn and raw than typical anime style. I don't remember the story line at all, but Calvin and Hobbes made a cameo appearance.

the zombie horde

I had a series of weird dreams this morning in between repeated snooze-button punchings. In the first, I had been obliged to attend a high school reunion and was not happy about being there. In hopes of avoiding being seen and having to fill people in on my current news, I escaped to the library (not my actual high-school library but a dream library). The rows of shelves were very low, about shoulder height, which dismayed me since I couldn't conceal myself without hunching over.

I was still vainly hoping that I was somewhat hidden when I noticed that a group of older people had come in. I'm not sure what they were doing there, but they had some connection with the reunion or with some other event that was going on. I sensed that they were trying to get away from the action and into a quiet spot. However, lined up evenly spaced between the rows of shelves, they just looked alarming. They all had salt-and-pepper hair in exactly the same shade, were all about the same height and weight (short-to-medium height and skinny), and they all moved very slowly and had vacant looks.

I shouted, to no one in particular, "look, it's the zombie horde!" In real life, of course, this would be extremely rude and not funny at all, but in the dream it was absolutely hilarious and I couldn't stop laughing and congratulating myself on my wit. I was also relieved to have had a bit of comedy to take my mind off my undesirable situation.

I don't remember much of the other dream, except that the protagonist was a rather nondescript man in his mid to late 30s. He had somehow gotten himself employed as a telemarketer, calling up a narrowly defined target demographic (doctors or engineers, something like that) to try to interest them in some very specialized consulting service. Of course none of them were interested, which made him hate the job even more. He was sitting at his desk trying to assemble his lunch, which consisted of sliced turkey lunch meat, sliced cheese, and some kind of flat bread*, and having a meltdown. He was yelling at his boss about having to call these people who weren't interested, how that wasn't what he wanted to do, etc. etc. I really felt sorry for him, because I knew that he was highly educated and had gotten himself into this job by mistake and necessity.


*This was undoubtedly thanks to a recent viewing of the remake of The Prisoner, wherein the only food available was "wraps" (I recommend it, by the way--the program, not necessarily the wraps).

scary rednecks

I may be having another run of unpleasant dreams, because I had one last night that was really scary, although it probably won't sound scary. Trust me, it was terrifying.

I was out somewhere in the country with some members of my family. I don't remember exactly who was there other than my mother, but I think my sister, grandmother, and some other random people were with us (yeah, I guess it counts as a group trip). I was walking by myself down a very narrow, deserted country road. It was very pretty, running between wide fields on one side and a hillside on the other, and I was completely relaxed (I think I was even picking wildflowers).

I wasn't expecting a car to come along, so when one did I was completely taken off guard. I didn't even see it until it was level with me, and the road was so narrow that it brushed me as it went past (very slowly). I wasn't too alarmed until I noticed that not only had they slowed way down when they passed me, but they were coming to a complete stop. The driver and passenger got out, and I saw that they were a couple. Normally this would reassure me, but they were horrifying, very Menacing-Redneck-from-a-horror-movie*. The man was tall and skinny with stringy blond hair and a trucker cap, and the woman was one of those skinny, withered long-term smokers/drinkers/druggers of indeterminate age. They were both very weathered, but the woman was a bit more horrifying, with big, buggy, glassy gray eyes.

I couldn't figure out why they were after me or what they intended to do with me, but they were clearly on the hunt. They chased me around the car several times, although how they didn't catch me I don't know, since I was doing that extreme slow-motion heavy-limb running that always happens in scary dreams.

I don't remember how I managed to elude them, but the next thing I can remember is being in a car with my various family members and still being terrified and traumatized. They didn't really take it seriously, since they hadn't been there to face the redneck specters. One interesting detail of this car ride is that I was in the passenger's seat, but my mother, who had previously been driving, was in the back seat. She said, "oh, it's no big deal, just steer from the passenger's seat"**. I wondered how I was supposed to deal with braking and shifting from the passenger's seat, but I think the car just rolled to a stop without any problems.

The next thing I remember is arriving at a house, still with assorted family members in tow. We were all hungry and needed to eat, but for some reason a restaurant wasn't a consideration. We had uncooked food, so we just entered a house (inhabited) and I went straight to the kitchen and started heating water***. Some of my party voiced misgivings with this, but I waved it off like taking over someone's kitchen without permission was a perfectly acceptable thing to do. I think I was still under the impression that my trauma with the rednecks gave me carte blanche to do whatever necessary for survival.


*It probably sounds from these dreams like I watch a lot of horror movies; I don't, but the ones I have tend to stick around in my subconscious. And at least 75% of them seem to feature Scary Rednecks.
**I've had this dream before, realizing that I'm in the passenger's seat of a moving vehicle with no one in the driver's seat. It's pretty obvious what that means, although I don't like the sounds of it. But frankly, I'm not sure I want to dig too deep into this new twist (my mother vacating the driver's seat). Seems a bit too Freudian for comfort.
***Wait a minute, I've dreamed this before too, except that my parents were the ones advocating breaking and entering, and I was the voice of reason.

in which i tire myself out both physically and mentally

I had a slightly alarming dream last night. I was getting ready to go buy a bunch of necessary materials and tools for a home improvement project, going over the list with my husband because I was going to be going by myself and wanted to make sure I didn't forget anything. I was a little nervous about driving the truck, since I had only driven it a couple of times before.

I guess I got the materials, because the next thing I can remember I was with some assorted family members in a very small cafe attached to the building supply store. It was sort of like an uglier version of an ikea cafe, and my dad had ordered a pizza. One of the employees brought it out, and it looked really good--kind of a white sauce, with chicken and maybe rosemary*.

The trouble began when someone jumped out of nowhere to intercept my dad's pizza. The person who initially grabbed the pizza was a 35-ish, redneck-ish man. I was furious, and immediately started slugging him (?!), knocked him on the ground, and kicked him (I was pretty effective, if I do say so myself). I was a little surprised and alarmed at the intensity of my anger; I guess I was getting out all my suppressed indignation about everything. I kept yelling "you can't do that! You can't take my dad's pizza! You didn't pay for it!" Between the kicking and the hitting, he ended up moaning on the floor, with blood running down his forehead.

I guess at that point I came to my senses and decided I had done sufficient justice, because I stopped and the person got up, morphing into a youngish female. I asked her why she had taken my dad's pizza and she said, rather pitifully, "I'm hungry". I immediately turned good samaritan and said, "well, let me get you something to eat". There was an immediate switch from "I'm so mad I could kill someone" to "this person needs to eat and I'm going to get them something" (with accompanied rush of charitable feeling).

She ordered something and I went to pay at the counter. I noticed that she had slipped in a package of condoms**, and was initially irritated that she had added something when I had only proposed a meal. Then I realized that she seemed to be the sort of person who had a lot of high-risk encounters, and probably did all kinds of drugs, and that it was a good thing she was getting them, so I didn't protest and just paid for the whole thing, acting like they weren't there. I had very uncomfortable mixed feelings of feeling good about being helpful, while simultaneously realizing that I was experiencing unwarranted feelings of moral superiority and a particularly annoying sort of Liberal Do-Goodism***.



*ironic, considering that my dad is vegan.
**once again, why does it have to be me introducing these labels?
***not that I'm against being liberal or doing good; I'm referring to that annoying "I'm doing this and this and this and this to save the world--what are you doing?" thing.

in which i caricature my real-life tastes and interests

This dream was really neat visually. It started with me on a visit to a Hindu "worship center". I refer to it as that because it was more than just a temple. It was a whole complex including a temple and some other community-outreach sort of areas (which I'll get into later).

I was in a small group, and we were there to visit the temple on what amounted to a guided tour. The lady in charge of the tour was one of the founders of the temple, and her thing was outreach to non-Hindus. She wasn't trying to convert outsiders, just to educate them on what Hinduism was all about and create positive impressions.

The temple itself was beautiful, a big open room with elaborate Indian decorations (I think the ceiling was highly decorated, and there may have been an upstairs balcony running along at least one side of the room). There were some people there engaged in some sort of worship, and although we didn't stay long and I didn't really understand what was going on I found it inspiring.

After the main room, we were led into a side room with a low ceiling. It was also highly decorated, and full of rows of raised tables with shallow tanks on top, almost like clear, shallow bathtubs on platforms. They were about half full of water, and all connected by a complicated network of piping. Most of the tubs had someone in them, lying flat, fully clothed, and completely, if barely, submerged by water that was running while staying at the same level (through the network of pipes, I suppose).

The tubs nearest us were occupied by very old Indian women, all motionless and with their eyes closed. They were apparently deep in some kind of advanced meditation in which one didn't have to breathe. There was another section on the other side of the room with somewhat younger Indian men, all bald. I found it very interesting, but then when I turned to the right I saw that there was a section full of deformed, premature babies. They had uneven, buggy eyes, large bulgy heads, and were kind of greenish and purplish. It was extremely, extremely unsettling. Apparently they had been taken in as orphans, but their prognosis couldn't have been too good.

After that I was with my mom, getting ready to go into a grocery store. I had a National Geographic, and I discovered that there was a whole article on knitting (across a spectrum of time and cultures, etc.). I was really fascinated, and so slow getting out of the car that when I finally tore myself away and went in the store my mother was already checking out. I looked in her cart and saw that there were only a couple of bags of vegetables and a few more miscellaneous things--not the whole week's worth of food that we needed. I got really angry and started yelling at her about how I thought that for once she could be responsible and buy the week's groceries because I had been doing it ALL THE TIME, and why should I have to do everything just because she found it easier to let me*. She just shrugged and pointed out that I could have come in earlier and gotten more things instead of staying in the car with the National Geographic.

****************************************

Another night I had a tidbit that fits in with the multicultural theme. I was in a library somewhere and found a very small softcover, staple-bound book. It had been self-published by an Ethiopian lady, and looked at first like it was a cookbook. I wasn't sure if it was handwritten or if it was just a unique font, but I absolutely loved the writing and was determined to find a place to buy my own copy of it.

On looking more at it, I discovered that it contained not only recipes (I like Ethiopian food in real life), but very cute line drawings and somewhat 1950s tips on how to manage a home while remaining glamorous and interesting. There was one little drawing of the author involving her two small children in cutting up carrots. The caption pointed out that involving small children in household tasks like cooking would keep them entertained and teach them, make them less picky in their eating habits, etc. etc. The whole aura was very idyllic, and the author photograph showed a very beautiful, flawless, serene-looking Ethiopian woman. The book was in English and Amharic, although of course the writing in the dream didn't look anything at all like Amharic does in real life. I was intrigued to see that there were a lot of "x"-like characters, and remarked that some characters showed up a lot in some languages while being rare in others (??). Anyway, I was completely obsessed with the book and its author, and determined to find it to buy and become perfect, well-groomed, immaculate, interesting, glamorous, etc.



*I have this dream every so often where I'm living with my parents (and sometimes sister and/or husband) and filling this Cinderella role where I do ALL the housework. Then I blow up and start yelling at everyone while they look on bemused and unconvinced.

border adventure!

I had the most exhausting and ridiculous dream last night. I dreamed that, with Curly Sue and another real-life friend, I was going to try to sneak across the U.S.-Mexico border by rafting across the river. At no point was it clear whether we were trying to get from Mexico to the U.S. or from the U.S. to Mexico, or even why we were crossing clandestinely (a lot of things in this dream weren't clear).

At the beginning, I was trying to pack my things to go. I had it in my head that I needed to fit everything necessary for 8 months or so into a small backpack, besides my share of the necessary stuff for the trip itself--tent, blow-up raft, life jacket, food, etc. All my possessions were disorganized and all over the floor of a room in my parents' house (different than my parents' house in real life). I was preparing for an academic year in a dorm atmosphere, so I was thinking about what I would need in that situation and including all kinds of not-strictly-necessary things like a tin of colored drawing pencils. I was also concerned about the mess I would be leaving behind, all the disorganized stuff that I wouldn't be taking with me.

After this packing stress went on for a while (forever, seemingly), I finally realized that this was just a trip to Establish a Presence, and that I was going to be able to retrieve more belongings later (what?), not to mention that wherever I was going was bound to have stores to buy things in. So this threw off my whole strategy and I had to start all over. By this time my traveling companions were pretty much ready to go, so knowing that I was holding them up added to the stress.

I ended up finally just throwing a change of clothes and what I thought was my share of the supplies into my bag, and we got ready to go through the security checkpoint (what? again). This was manned by U.S. agents, although, again, I'm not sure where we were leaving and where we were entering, or why (even better question) we were going through security and THEN sneaking over the border. The security procedure was onerous and there were lots of annoying, noisy kids running around underfoot.

We finally made it through, and then I realized that the river looked pretty wide, deep, and fast, and that I hadn't actually packed my life jacket. At this point, I think my companions' patience was running quite thin, especially after the whole security-checkpoint experience, so I decided to get a life jacket at the first opportunity instead of being picky.

The first opportunity turned out to be a ramshackle taco/life jacket/whatever else stand. They wanted $40 to rent a worn-out orange clip-in-the-front life jacket, to be returned the next day. I tried to find out what would happen if I didn't return it, but they were evasive on that point. Then I bought a taco, which turned out to be one somewhat undersized tortilla and one seriously undersized tortilla (silver dollar-sized), with about 6 bits of ground beef and a smear of vile-looking sauce (all this warmed up in a microwave). I was indignant and tried to protest to the seller, but my Spanish came out all wrong in my indignation (even including some French words), and the guy just laughed at me scornfully. (The guy manning this shady operation was a stout middle-aged Mexican guy with a distinct air of doing business with the wrong people, so I didn't rant for too long.)

After that, my companions revealed that they had been looking at the map to plan our route and had decided that the best strategy to avoid detection was to circle around--waaay around. The proposed route would include a trip through Big Bend, and we were going to take our giant SUV, so at least we could sleep inside it.

On that note, I think we decided we needed a real meal before undertaking the next leg of the trip, because the last thing I remember was a plate with some kind of chicken-fried-steak type meat atop a small mound of mashed potatoes. I was disconcerted because it wasn't the type of meal that fit in with the whole Texas/Mexico border theme, but I was also happy for something more substantial than the so-called "taco" from the stand.

jumping on the snippet bandwagon

Here are some of my recent snippets (no full-scale plotlines for me lately):

• I was staying in my aunt and uncle's house with my parents (aunt and uncle weren't there). My dog (the giant, hyperactive one) was there too, and my mother had stayed up all night with him in the living room watching tv. To the average layperson, this wouldn't sound so funny, but the idea of my mother staying up all night watching random tv movies with my large dog is so unlikely as to be hilarious. I had woken up early and wanted to go out to do some sightseeing (apparently my aunt and uncle's house was in Italy!). My mother wasn't ready to leave the house after her all-nighter, and I was a little impatient. While waiting to see if she was going to accompany me I noticed that the bathroom shower stall was all dirty and scuzzy, and was self-righteously scandalized that they hadn't cleaned it for incoming guests*. I tried to use some Scrubbing Bubbles product on it, but was frustrated because it didn't foam properly. Then I gave up waiting for her and went out, where I bought some overpriced and weird-looking (orange?!) Spanish tortilla and some similarly overpriced coffee from a streetside stall manned by an old man.

• Then another night I had a dream in which I missed a train due to poor time management and ended up having to spend the night at a nearby anarchist commune. In the dream, I knew a lot of the people there from past periods of my life, although I'm not sure, apart from one or two, whether these were dream people or actual real-life acquaintances. I was just getting settled in and over my frustration at having missed my train when people started saying that I guy I do know in real life had come back from a long trip (the implication was that this had been some sort of meaningful quest). They were saying that he was going to rest up and decompress before coming out to mingle, and the implication was that he was some sort of returning hero.

• Then last night the only dream bit I remember was that I was supposed to do a science project (you know, like a science-fair/ science-class project). As expected, I didn't have much time left in which to do it, but I wasn't too worried because my plan was to have "Curly Sue" and her sister help me--wait for it--capture a small crocodile. That was going to be my science project, a captive miniature crocodile. I don't really know where the location of the dream was, but it was somewhat exotic and the ground was covered with a swampy groundcover. When you looked closely you could see that at close intervals in the groundcover there were tiny crocodiles in a dormant state. I knew that once I started trying to capture one it would become active, though, which was why I needed help. I figured it wouldn't be too hard with one person to grab and hold the body and the other person to grab the snout (?) and hold it shut; a third person for backup could be nice too. Unfortunately when Curly Sue and sister showed up (with their mother and possibly some other extended family members) they were considerably less enthusiastic about the enterprise than I had expected. Due to their lack of enthusiasm, I decided that I should go with my science project backup plan, an origami model of a double helix (here again, I was somewhat hazy about the actual details involved in its fabrication).

*Ironic considering the squalor in which I usually live.

my subconscious is an overachiever

Think of the creepiest, most icky, bound-to-stick-with-you-and-resurface-when-you-don't-want-it-to dream that you can think of, not involving violence. Now see if it comes close to this:

I dreamed that I found out my mother was a hermaphrodite.

I don't see how it could get much more traumatic than that and not involve violence.

And then the other night I dreamed about being pursued by the mafia. I performed a lot of daring gymnastic stunts that I would never be able to do in real life, including but not limited to climbing down the face of a balconied apartment building. That's really all I remember, but it went on for quite a while and was very scary. Also, food was involved somehow--I think the mafia were pursuing me over some kind of restaurant-business secret.

Marathon

Last night's marathon dream was atypical, in that I had apparently started on time and knew the route (there was an out-and-back stretch that I seemed to remember from other marathon dreams, apparently in a skyway of some sort). For some reason, however, I was running all by myself. It was only when I saw another runner on that out-and-back stretch that I knew for certain I was on the right course.

At some point, I ran into David and bummed money off him to buy some Sport Beans, as I'd forgotten to buy any of my own. He had started later and/or was running a shorter race, and said he was "taking a lunch break."

oh boy (literally!)

My brain is definitely responding to my fear of having more adolescent dreams and/or dreams about young boys*. The very night after the washing-machine dream, I dreamed that I was in a church-ish setting. I think they were having church, but there were some other things going on too, garage-sale sort of things outside. There was an old wooden Middle-America church-ish building with a high porch, and the inside where the church service was actually taking place there was also a balcony in the entrance, where you could stay and look over the proceedings without committing yourself to going in and sitting down.

When I was still outside, I saw a very small boy with curly hair who appeared to be lost. I didn't see any corresponding adults around, so I thought I should try to help him find his people. As soon as I approached him he darted away and was replaced by an older boy, maybe 10 or 11, with straight dark hair.

This older boy also claimed to be lost, and although I didn't have quite the same urgent feelings of concern for him, he was still young enough that he should know where his parents were, and vice versa. So I walked around with him a little outside, and we didn't find any parents. We then went inside and stood on the balcony, and I started to get the distinct impression that he was sticking around more because he had a crush on me than anything else**. I wasn't sure what I should do, whether I should continue the [somewhat fruitless-seeming] search for his parents; whether I should just stand there and listen to him talk, thus encouraging him; or whether I should just start completely ignoring him and hope that he would go away. In the meantime I realized that he seemed older than he had outside, and that, indeed, his voice had changed from preadolescent to adolescent. This freaked me out a little.

An unrelated but interesting detail was that there were food vendors in the back of the church. Someone had converted an old chicken coop to a portable stand for selling what they called “oeufs caillés”***. They were eggs cooked somewhere between soft- and hard-boiled, in the unbroken shells, but when one got to the yolk it had been transformed into soft little spheres the size of the big tapioca pearls in bubble tea. There were two versions, just plain lightly sweetened, and chocolate (although the white in the chocolate version was still white). The operators of the stand had set it up so that it was self-service, thus cleverly avoiding offending anyone with compunctions about buying and selling in the church building. I thought the whole thing was very clever, although I wasn't sure how much I liked the eggs in question.


*Not that kind of dream. Really.
**Wait! This is the second dream I can recall dealing with underage boys having inappropriate crushes on me IN CHURCH. What is going on?
***I don't think such a thing exists. Literally it would be "curdled/clotted/coagulated eggs", and a search doesn't show up anything. However, there are "oeufs de caille", or quail eggs; but the eggs in the dream were definitely chicken, not quail****.
****Wait! Eggs. Is this whole thing really about my biological clock? Is my brain really that twisted that it's presenting me with these weird parallel themes of pursuit and procreation? Does my brain fancy itself a controversial Italian movie director from the 60s or something?

multiple anthony bourdains

Of course I was on a group trip, and of course most of the trippers were young (young college age, I think). I don't remember much, but we were in a car, going slowly by an old church (cathedral?). There was someone seated on the steps, with a rather large bagged lunch beside him. He was opening up a couple of foil-wrapped packets, looking like he wasn't excited to be there. I got the impression that he had been marooned there for a while. He looked up at the car, and at that point we realized that it was Anthony Bourdain. He started waving his long arms, and several people urged the driver to stop and pick him up, because he clearly needed a ride somewhere.

The driver was not excited at all about picking up Mr. Bourdain, and I was a little puzzled (although, to be fair, the car was pretty full). Then I saw his face and realized why he was reluctant--our driver was a second Anthony Bourdain. No one seemed to think this was strange, though, so I just chalked up his distaste for Bourdain No. 1 to a conflicted sense of self-loathing.

Camping Dreams

I was camping this weekend, and had extremely vivid dreams all Sunday night. Here are a few of the highlights:

• I somehow managed to break big chunks off my molars, possibly exposing the nerves. I spit a mouthful of chunks into my palm, and when I touched the broken spots in my mouth with my tongue, it had that iron-y taste and sent pain radiating through my bones.
• I noticed this while I was brushing my teeth, getting ready to leave. It seemed to be late at night, and I needed a ride home. My ex-boyfriend agreed to take me home, but then my sister rode with us and he was flirting with her.
• My aunt and Small Cousin (in the dream, about three years old, with a very round face) were walking at night in a warm city. My cousin sat down happily in a mud puddle and then insisted that she would not take a bath.
• In this city, we saw a Mexican wedding taking place. There was a live mariachi band, and people were dancing. Food was being cooked, and one of the women recognized my aunt and held up a piece of cake for her to take. Later, we made our way down there and she got her cake.
• As we were walking home, we passed some beautiful architectural elements, including an elaborately carved door. It was very windy, though, and I almost got blown away--a very similar sensation to this dream.
• People were coming to my aunt and uncle's house. At first, it had something to do with some sort of Easter egg hunt--we had hidden objects for them, apparently--but then it became that they were coming to fight us. There were only two of us, to defend two doors. A heavyset woman was the first person to come to my door. I gave her a speech about how I didn't want to fight her, and that she could just surrender and join us. She wanted to fight me, though, so I fought her. In the dream, I was plenty clumsy, but my blows somehow still struck home. I injured her--and felt terrible about it--and she joined us. I had to fight another couple of people later, although some who showed up were willing to surrender without a fight. Eventually, we either beat or converted everyone and celebrated in the empty house.
  

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).

food sculpture

Part of last night's dream was about (of course) being on a group trip and getting ready to go somewhere. It was a large group, and I don't remember who was in it, where we were, or the purpose of the trip. The getting-ready part involved finding a bathroom, getting the bathroom fit to use (some shower-curtain difficulties), trying to arrange all my cosmetic equipment (which, in the dream, was much more plentiful than in real life), and forgetting several times to bring crucial items into the bathroom with me and having to go and retrieve them from wherever the rest of my things were. Also, I had a eureka revelation that I needed to remove all of my travel toiletries from their case and re-evaluate everything before each trip, because I had ended up with a lot of extraneous stuff and almost-empty containers.

The other part was less predictable. Still on the trip, I commented to a real-life coworker that her husband was "cute" [I met him yesterday]. She sighed and started talking about how he had been unemployed for quite a while and wasn't making any effort to find another job, and I realized I had stepped on a conversational landmine.

Then, the trip apparently over, I was at work and the same coworker brought a gift to my desk. It was something she was giving everyone in the office in honor of some holiday I hadn't been aware of. It was a surreal sculpture consisting of a chicken (cooked or uncooked, I wasn't sure), with all manner of small raw vegetable pieces stuck into the skin to make it into a whimsical rabbit-like animal. Small pieces of carrot made up the "fur", and other vegetables were used as facial features. The overall effect was like a very strange stuffed animal, and I wasn't sure what to do with it. Should I cook and eat it? Use it as a decoration? I played with it a little at my desk, trying to seem appreciative because she was very excited about these creatures. I tried to figure out if it was pre-cooked or not, and came to the conclusion that it was cooked just enough to be technically done, but still uncooked enough that one could bake it longer to cook the surface vegetables and make a nice crust on the meat itself. Then she commented that she didn't think it was "food safe", and that it was just a decoration that would last a few days, for whatever holiday this was. It was very confusing, and I also realized after waking up that it was way too light-weight to be an actual chicken.

the obama family p.r. tour

I dreamed that President Obama had decided to move on from town meetings to garner support and had started a goodwill campaign with his family. He was randomly selecting families to visit with refreshments and little gifts, and we were one of the first selected (I was living with various members of my family in addition to my husband).

We had been told what time they would come by, but I had put off going to the bathroom and preparing myself, and consequently had to duck in right when I heard them arriving. It took me longer than I had expected, and I was moving really slowly, to the point that the Obama daughters started to need to use the bathroom. They started knocking on the door and asking why someone was in there so long, which was quite embarassing.

When I finally came out there was a very impressive spread on the table, consisting mostly of bottles and bottles of various types of wine and champagne, with a card in front of each of them saying what they were. Most of them seemed to come from the same company and were brushed aluminum bottles* with fancy "modern" designs on them. There was also a really pretty green glass champagne bottle with art nouveau white flowers painted on it. I didn't really know what else to say, so I commented on how pretty it was. Obama picked right up like a poised social whiz and made a return comment, leaving me impressed with his social skills and unimpressed with mine. The general effect of the wine exhibit was almost as if they were presenting a brand, and I suspected that the most-represented company had had good lobbyists to get their product in the p.r. roadshow.

I was a little confused about what my role in all this was, and slightly cowed, but blown away by the collective social graces of the Obama family. They were both extremely poised and personable in their chit-chat, Mr. in a more cool, off-hand way and Mrs. in a more warm, motherly way**; and their little girls were boisterous and running around, but not in an obnoxious way. Besides being a little ill at ease, I wasn't sure what to do with my other family members. My dad, who apparently loathed Obama, had hidden himself away somewhere and was refusing to come out until they were gone. And my grandmother, who I have never heard sing in real life, was wandering around singing and ignoring everything else going on around her.

I was relieved when they left, and wondered how long they were going to keep this campaign up, because it seemed like an awful lot of work on top of their regular schedules. I thought vaguely that the idea didn't seem very well thought-out, because it had been hinted that they would be visiting every family (sort of a variation on the Chicken in Every Pot), and I suspected that someone on their team was going to realize that they hadn't calculated how long that would take.


*Yes, wine in aluminum bottles. I'm sure that works well in real life.
**Yes, my dreams hew to sex-role stereotypes. I'd like to think it's just because I've been doing a Mad Men dvd marathon.

Overreacting?

I was standing in line in the cafeteria at work. It is some special occasion where they have made a lot of food. I am in line with two other people (one male, one female). I see the cafeteria workers lift the aluminum covers off the food. Almost every dish was made with beef or pork, two things I do not eat. I started getting angry about it, since I had waited so long for food only for it be be something I couldn't enjoy. I start talking to the person next to me very loudly, saying how on special occasions the out to make something ever one can eat. There was nothing for vegetarians. My turn comes and the person behind the counter asks for my order. I ask him to tell me what each dish is even though I know they are all made with beef. I ask if there is anything with chicken. He tells me there are pre-made chicken sandwiches, but nothing hot. So I have to order that. Then he asks if I want a vegetable. I see collard greens, but I can also see chunks of pork swimming in the juice. Frustrated, I just ask for banana pudding (even though I don't like it), since that is the only side dish not cooked with pork.

I am expressing my frustration to my friend. People are starting to look at me, but I really don't care. I get up to the front to pay for the food, saying loudly that I should only get charged the price of a mean that includes a side and not extra for the dessert since there were no sides I could eat. A male friend comes up to me and tells me to calm down, which makes me more upset. I am standing a little bit away from him when the woman representing the company overseeing the catering comes over. She is complaining loudly about the "chicken head" that is making such a fuss over the food, saying "She needs to keep her mouth shut!" and other threats. The woman goes to the other side of the room without realizing I am the woman she is talking about. I walk closer to my friend and ask him, "Am I overreacting". I think on big occasions like this they out to have something for everybody and not just what is easiest for them to make. I see he has the woman's card. She works for Deloitte Touche Tomahatsu, a company I worked for before (though they don't do catering in reality). I know if she causes trouble, I can contact my connections there to back me up. The woman comes over again, this time acting more professional. I introduce myself as the chicken head she was complaining about before. I say I will hear her explanation about the food even though I know everything she will say to me is just her being polite and not how she really feels. I can tell from the look on her face she is embarrassed to know I overheard her ranting.

Scene switches: I am driving in my car going down a hill on my way to work. I am still upset about the cafeteria incident and am writing the complaint letter in my head. I know my complaint letter will upset the head of food services and will be brought to the attention of my boss' boss, GH. I imagine GH will tell my boss, JT, to get me under control. I decide that if JT is told to fire me, I am okay with that.

Pie, running, polka dots

I woke up dreaming about delicious pie. Upon waking, it struck me as an odd combination: blueberries, apples, and raisins, I think, all in sort of a souffle-like base--maybe something like a shoo fly pie? (I only had that once, about 15 years ago.) I poked "ooh" into the top crust with my fork tines, apparently to show someone my appreciation. Did I mention that it was delicious?

Before that, I dreamed that I had gone running with the African American family across the street--a father and about seven kids of varying ages. The street in question was the one I lived on with my parents in Portland, although the neighbor family has no precedent in reality. Before we went running, I had somehow gotten sucked into some sort of baseball game with them.

And before THAT, there was to be a wedding. I don't remember whose, but we were getting ready. Or, my mom was getting ready and I was entertaining a small girl in a shopping cart who had a volume of Childcraft. I was excited to read to her about Frog and Toad. On the bed, I noticed a strange little leotard garment. It was silky, black with white polka dots and fluttery sleeves. Then, a short-ish teenager who I recognized as a celebrity, and who had long bleached-blond hair, picked up the garment and put it on (or, rather, it materialized on her; I don't remember any dressing involved). In the dream, I thought she might be Ashlee Simpson, although, as is usual when I dream about a celebrity, a Google afterward indicated how wrong I was. On her, the little leotard thing (which apparently she was going to wear to the wedding) also had odd pink ruffles. She said, excitedly, "How do I look?" I replied (quite diplomatically, I thought!), "No one could wear it like you!"

Weight loss, dogs in the sand

I'm sitting in my office at work and overhear three colleagues talking about another colleague (KQ).  One of the men is saying that KQ is always eating, but needs to lose a little weight.  I don't hear the other two say anything in her defense.  KQ comes in my office with tears in her eyes because she has overheard the conversation.  I take her for a walk outside and tell her I heard the same conversation.  I tell her the guy is an a--hole and she shouldn't listen to him.  He's 42, still single, out of shape and doesn't exercise. KQ tells me what hurt more was that the other two colleagues (her friends) didn't say anything in her defense.  I say it is hard to say something in that situation.  She asks me what I would say.  I tell her I would have thrown it back in the guy's face - tell him he's not in the best shape either.  But that is because I know how he is and the other two colleagues think he is so smart.  

We walk back to the office, which is near the beat.  We have to go up stairs to cross over a covered bridge to get to the other side of the pier.  We go down the stairs and end up on the beach in very deep sand.  It is very difficult to walk in.  I see a dog covered in sand.  I can't really tell if the dog is alive.  I think I see it blink, but cannot be sure.  KQ is walking ahed of me and now another colleague, YS, is with us.  I fall down in the sand and see another dog.  I have trouble standing up and have to get on all fours.  The dogs perceive me as a threat and start to move.  I realize I have to stnad up.  I crawl to the edge, past the sand and KQ and YS slowly help me up.  We walk down the path with the dogs following us until we walk past the public bathrooms.  They turn around and go back once we are out of their "territory". We walk back to the office.  I wanted to tell KQ that she has gained weight and offer to work out with her, but the dog situation threw me off.

I get back to my desk and start to work, but I can tell it is late in the day.  I heat up something in the microwave and then some guy brings me food.  YS and KQ come by and invite me out.  They say they've checked my calendar and I am free.  I say, "I don't have tango or anything?" - they tell me I do not.  I try to bring my two meals with me one is some Indian dish with chickpeas and the other is linguine with clams sauce. Both meals are in pouches which make it difficult to carry.  I try to balance these without spilling their contents as I head downstairs.

Scene switches, I am in the car with a man that is my husband and our son (about 9 or 10 years old).  We are in the back of a limousine.  I say something about my beautiful boy.  It feels like we are in a foreign country.