Dreamlife
11/07/01
Well here’s a first,
My dream life, of late, has far exceeded the excitement of my daytime life. And making unexpected itnerruptions and visits in there as well. Does anyone else experience metathinking while in the midst of a dream?
Like take Sunday. After an exhausting day of training I went over to Paris & Ernie’s place. Bel was there chilling
with a box of Krispy Kremes. My kinda gal, ya know?
As Ernie just moved, the place was a total warzone and I carved myself a small place to sleep on their couch. I crashed out in 5 seconds flat. Hard. One of those sinking into your spine exhaustions of sleep.Meanwhile, they’re pounding, screaming, and dragging stuff through the apartment.
Anyways, during my dream, I’m in a nightclub standing on day glow jello cubes. Huge ones. About 5 stories tall each.And it’s like a craggy canyon or something, but all made from various colors of jello.And there’s trance music.
Hey, did I remind you that I don’t take drugs? Anyways. To continue with the dream.
I’m walking arm in arm with Ernie when he leans over and shouts into my ear “You’re going to have a great time” and then he puts his hand on my ass. Um yeah. Let’s see how that makes sense. That’s the first meta thinking oddity.
The next is when Dream Ernie picks me up by the ass of my pants and dangles me over a jello ravine.
My next meta thought was “WTF? Why does Ernie have superpowers?”
And then he chucked me over the cliff of jello to fall for miles and miles and miles.
And while in the dream, I stop screaming because I’ve run out of breath.
And think to myself, MY GOD, I MUST WAKE UP BEFORE I HIT THE BOTTOM OR I”LL DIE!” Have you ever been panicked and still managed to stay asleep? Hmm. Anyways I’m alive. I didn’t die. Nor did I wake up just then. I hit the bottom and well, sort of *bounced*. J-E-L-L-O. A girl’s best friend when a gay man chucks you over a ravine.
After waking up from my nap, I wandered back to Ernie’s room, sat on his bed, and before he could say “Good Mornign Sunshine” to me I punched him in the arm and said “Fuck you.”
Of course, after I explained my dream to him, he threatened to push me off the bed. To which I of course responded “Fuck you.” And then ate a donut. And another one. And then punched Ernie again for good measure. Ernie of course, found this charming and I quote “I love it when someone’s mad at me for something I didn’t do that happened in their dream. That’s just beautiful.”
Today I had an odd dream.
In it a younger Richard Gere, myself, and potpie, my current roommate, are reading the sunday paper and magazines in bed. Nothing kinky, just reading up on the latest events in fully clothed powder blue pajamas. I get up to brush my teeth and pop back into bed lying facing him, leaning against the foot rest, demand the funnies, and potpie makes a discrete exit as young Richard puts incredibly smooth moves on me.
Me, in neurotic incapability to believe that such a gorgeous and charming man should be hitting on me, not in a bowm chika bow bow way but in a “when are you going to realize i’m stuck on you in a big way type of way and so what that i’m a sexay thing i think you are too but that’s not why i dig you”, starts shuffling through the comics. Cindy Crawford’s in the papers and while young Richard says nothing disparraging about his ex-wife, he dismisses her and tenderly grabs hold of my foot.
The phone rings and the answering machine picks up, it’s one of the pretty pretty boys I know who leaves some odd message about me living in Novi Michigan, his parents, and which direction to slice shitaki mushrooms for a dish he’s planning on making.
Young Richard continues to elegantly throw himself at me and the most I can do is allow him to spoon me as I try to figure out how the goofy fabu girl that is me, wound up in his arms & bed.
Now, it’s a pretty sad case when i have intimacy issues in my *DREAMS* with young Richard Gere.
And no, no discussions of gerbils *EVER* came up in the dream. Mmmkay?
In Other News
My step mom & dad called last night. Dad is treating my poverty as an object lession. But is no longer stomping my face into the situation that I am in, whereas before it felt like he was attacking me and blaming me for being unemployed. We’re actually pretty mellow ok now. They asked how I was doing, if I was alright, was I eating, etc.
I told them I was dating for food. They thought that was funny and laughed. I think they thought I was kidding. Pbt.
Stepmom shared a conversation that she’d had with some fellow church mates who’d known me my whole life.
“You know… Joo-di-yah would make a good nun”
“Yeah, i think so too… she’s sucha good girl…”
Me: “Oh, that’s nice…but I’m pretty sure that’s not my vocation”
StepMom: “You know.. they don’;t have to worry bout nothing. Nun habuh good life, serve,
God, happy, you know?”
Me: “Yeah, I hear you, but I like the boys too much and they like me back too much…
besides, I’m pretty set on writing..”
StepMom: “Yah, I read the poetreee ub one ub the nuns, she’s very famous korean sister, this nun, and she write the poetreee and sometime, i cry, sooo beyoootiful, she makuh me cry.
That’s good writting huh?”
Me: “Um, Yeah, that’s great.”
Peace Out
Min Jung
No Comments Yet