Oh man, this dream was a doozy. Thanks to those who keep telling me I married Bret Michaels, I had a really vivid dream last night that I was on Rock of Love. And wouldncha know, I had made it to the top three contesetants, so the show’s finale was an intense judging. I also want to add that one of the other three was a guy, so maybe Bret swings or I was mixing it up with Shot At Love With Tila Tequila. So, for the final “date”, we had to choose a book that we liked and come and discuss it. (I KNOW!) Thinking that Bret was a moron, I chose a Sweet Valley High book. And one that I didn’t actually read, but I figured I could make up the plot and probably be right. Although at the final date, it wasn’t just Bret, but the producers, some of his friends and even some professors. I suddenly felt kind of shy and annoyed, and I heard them talking about what sort of marks they were giving me. (I got a C on my book report, and a C because I didn’t give Bret flowers before the date.) Luckily, a friend of mine happened to be there so I dragged him over to the bar to have a bitch session about the process, saying I wanted to just quit and get the hell out of there, the show was bullshit, etc etc. The producer of the show overheard me and I got in trouble so they banished me to a nearby hotel. I told her my plan, that I just wanted to leave, and I wanted to tell Bret that we weren’t meant for each other, and I would leave gracefully and let one of the other two people throw themselves all over him. Once Bret heard that, he was really mad because HE didn’t want to be rejected before he could reject me. So I compromised and I said I would do it on camera and make a big emotional scene to make some good tv. They agreed to that, so I started picking out what I was going to wear, and to my horror, all my clothes suddenly became see-through. And then I woke up in a cold sweat. The end.
I had the most awful dream. Disney World became a traveling theme park, and took over cities and stuff wherever they went (kind of like the World’s Fair). In my dream they were “renting out” Manhattan for about a week to set up shop and rake in money from people. Well, for some reason I was forced to go every day as a tourist. It was awful. They transformed St. Mark’s in the East Village into Main Street USA and Central Park was basically destroyed so that they could install Big Thunder Mountain Railroad and that shit. Also, I kept finding myself having to appear on an awful game show being filmed at MGM studios. I remember walking around and seeing all the brainwashed employees with fake smiles and sensible haircuts. I don’t know why I have been thinking about my horrid semester working there, I had tried to forget it entirely, but it keeps coming up. Sigh. This is one dream where I actually woke up still freaked out.
I had a deam last night that because of the Borat controversy in Uzbekistan, they moved Erin’s peace corps program from there to Denmark, and she convinced me to apply. Most of my dream was the rigorous application process, but at the last minute, I ealized that I would have to fly to be able to get there. I am an idiot.
I haven’t been having very oherent dreams lately, but I just woke up from one. It turns out that some people were organizing a roast for me. Like the ones on Comedy Central, the Roast of Denis Leary and whatnot. It took place in an auditorium at a local mall, and hundreds of people showed up. I barely know 20 people, so this was weird. Some bands performed and there were some speakers, and people had to fill in cards as they arrived that said something like, “growing up Jewish is like….” I don’t know. Someone alsodecorated the place with paper bats or something. It was also televised for god knows what channel. The thing I remember is that I was all put out about it because I was supposed to give a speech at the end and I was having a hard time coming up with fake tears because I was expected to cry out of happiness. I don’t think this dream had to do with any sort of egotism.
The good news is that I am sleeping a lot better, however, the counter to that is that I am having extemely vivid dreams, which can be good, but my sick demented mind always comes up with something that bothers me. So, I was the madame of a brothel that allowed customers to customize the type of person they wanted to be with. Meaning, selecting from a wide range of different body parts and different personalities. Ok, before you can say this seems like the plotline to the next rom-com starring Jennifer Love Hewitt, think how gory that can get. As in, I had some sort of warehouse of body parts people browsed. Not to mention the philosophical and ethical weirdness of it all. The whole thing turned into some sort of conspiracy because after a while I couldn’t tell which of my clients were real and which were the fabricated ones. Apparently I was running from the law and from my clients, I am not sure why (maybe because I pimped them out) but it was hard for me to go incognito because the conditoner I used had a distinct smell and always gave me away (I know this is because earlier in the day I was excited that I found tea tree oil conditioner at Stop n Shop). Anyway, I am going to wake Stanley Kubrick from the dead to see if he wants to direct this one. If not, I guess Ridley Scott could turn it into some sort of Blade Runner Sequel.
This is the oldest cliche in the book. I dreamt I was getting ready for my first day of high school. As usual, I couldn't decide on what to wear, so I just went topless. Maybe I figured, hey, the slutty look is in with kids these days. Of course, as soon as I got to homeroom, I realized it was a bad idea and so did the school counselor. I had to call my mom to bring me a shirt and she was PISSED. This is the oldest dream cliche in the book. What does it mean again? Vulnerability? Bad choices?
Oh, that just made me think of the outfit I did wear to my first day of high school in ninth grade. I only remember because I usually spent the summer before perfecting it. Let's see. I recall a red silk button down shirt tucked into demin shorts (the kind that you rolled up at the bottom) with some white keds. I believe a scrunchy was also involved. Hot!
Being sick = odd dreams. Some friends and I, in two cars, were driving back from somewhere on a deserted road when we came upon another group of people whose truck had broke down. They ended up holding us at gunpoint and stealing one of our cars. Right when it happened a whole police force, complete with riot gear and tear gas, arrived immediately. Seriously, where were they then the original car brokedown? Somehow, in all the confusion, my friends and I got arrested for the crime (?). We all had a trial and somehow, the rule was, the closer you were found standing to a certain point, the guiltier you were. I went into the woods to pee so I was not as guilty as others. Five of my friends got a prison sentence, and the rest of us had some sort of work release program where we had to attend career skills classes or something. So my class was taking a field trip and learned about using computers, and we had to navigate through this multimedia presentation that my friends in prison put together. It had video clips and pictures of all the stuff they were doing in prison to keep themselves occupied, including choreographed dances and one act plays. After seeing the clips, I realized how much fun they were having and I was mad that I hadn't been sentenced to prison. I spent a lot of effort and tears convincing everyone around me that I was really guilty and I deserved to be with them, but no one would listen and in fact they reduced my sentence. The nerve! The weird thing is this was one of the first dreams in a while where I actually was myself, which rarely happens.
How to interpret it? Oh, the psychoanalysis I could do on this one. Don't get me started.