In which My Dream is the Literal Truth

     I just had an intense dream that I walked into an abandoned, filthy, house and found it full of sick and deformed people, all hiding in the darkened corners, including children with contaminated medical equipment jutting from their bodies. I was trying to help, but I couldn't touch one without getting swarmed by dozens. They were all hungry, thirsty, love-starved, and untouchably dirty.
     I was trying to bake bread, boil water, find medicine, bathe people, and soothe crying people, and was overwhelmed by the suffering around me.
     It didn't occur to me to just leave. I kept trying. I asked for help. And even though the throngs kept growing and pressing, I didn't stop trying to alleviate the suffering.
     In my way, in my waking life, I am doing this. But it is hard. I keep trying, but my soul could use some refreshing.

My Son the Architect

Long term followers of this blog (if there are any) may recall that I had a very vivid dream that I had a son who was an architect. In the dream I was immensely proud of an adult son who had built a whole Utopian city. It was very modern, with lots of beautiful colors and angles.

This is what my son made with his blocks on my bed this morning.

Dream-Travel Lags

Image: Cebu, Philippines

I was dreaming last night that I was taking a big trip to a tropical place, and that my son had to come on a later plane than me for some reason. Since he is only three and has never traveled anywhere, I was terrified he would get lost. I kept calling at every step to make sure he was a step behind me like he was supposed to be. It was so scary, and at one point I was screaming. I screamed myself awake, and Tony had to settle me back down.

Sometimes I wish that I didn't have such vivid nightmares, the ones that leave me trembling like that. Of course, if I couldn't dream that vividly, I would miss out on the beautiful dreams that I also have, the ones that nourish my abilities in my waking life. The ones that give me peace.

I guess I am just destined to be an intense dreamer. I just wonder: do I dream that way because I have an intense life, or is my life dramatic and intense because of the way I dream?

Dream: Hold Yer Own Tic Tacs!

I always have such  strange dreams when I sleep in a little. This morning I was dreaming that I was conquering my fear of heights by going skydiving. I was attending the safety class when some random guy said to me "Here, hold my tic tacs for me. Put them in your purse." So I did, only the lid wasn't all the way closed, and little white tic tacs went flying everywhere.

He was complaining to everyone about how I ruined his tic tacs. I got really pissed at him and yelled at him from across the room "Hold Yer Own Tic Tacs!!!!" and I started throwing them at him. Like, who did he think he was, presuming to take up space in my Coach handbag, anyway?? And why did he need the tic tacs for skydiving, anyway?


So there!

Dream: L'Absinthe Rend Fou!

I had a dream about Ted Breaux last night. To be more specific, I had a dream that I was reading about Ted Breaux in a book from the library. This is an impossible scenario, because apparently the dream was set somewhere around 1982, when I was a pre-teen. In fact, I don't even think the phrase "pre-teen" existed then.

But my mother had found and old book in the library to warn me about the dangers of drinking absinthe, apparently. Because in 1982 it was a widely known fact that absinthe was pure poison that would make you crazy if you drank it. Why, look at poor Vincent van Gogh, who cut off his own ear!

The book anachonistically mentioned Breaux as a "drug-addled wet-brain", ostenssibly because he advocates absinthe drinking and distributes the stufff.

Now, I have never met met Mr. Breaux myself, but I do drink absinthe from time to time. I can't say for sure that it doesn't make you crazy. But maybe it is a good kind of crazy. I just thought I would share because the phrase "drug-addled wet-brain" is so fantastic.

Dream: Baby Elephant Water Rescue

I had this dream the night before last, and it lingered in my mind all day yesterday, so I guess I should write it down. I was out walking in a vast grassy/marshy place. I saw some commotion up ahead, which turned out to be a lone baby elephant struggling in the muddy water. He looked exhausted and about to give up. I waded in and let his heavy body lean against me while I disentangled him from the reeds and grass around his legs. I got him onto dry ground and he immediately fell asleep next to me, with a look of supreme contentment on his wrinkly little face.

Then, his herd showed up, and I thought for sure I was going to get trampled to death. The baby's mother was fussing over him and getting him to nurse, but the bigger female I was intuiting was his grandmother was inspecting me. Once she figured out that I had not hurt him, she nudged me closer to him with her trunk. He came over to me and was gently inspecting my face with the end of his trunk. I put my arms around him and gave him a hug. The grandmother elephant stood over us and made it clear to the rest of the herd that this was okay.


My dreams are not at all hard to figure out sometimes, even though they are weird. As Little J's TPR trial fast approaches, I wish like anything that his family would accept what is happening. I wish they would accept me. I wish they could see that their little one is in good and loving hands. Struggling to be seen as "good enough" is a recurring theme for me, sadly. It feels like my best efforts are misinterpreted or not seen at all. I feel like I have to be epic and extraordinary to be seen as barely adequate. I have to dive into the mud to be accepted. It is wearisome. This dream had a good outcome that felt significant. It would be nice if its success could be mirrored in my waking life. Little J might need a baby elephant painting in his room now.

Dream: The Priest and I Don't Agree

I dreamed last night that I went back to Ohio for a visit and was over at my father's house to see my sister. For some reason, their parish priest was there for a visit, in full high-ceremonial finery, no less.

He and my stepmom were talking about the Mel Gibson epic "The Passion of the Christ", and how he thinks that everyone should see it to gain an appreciation for the Christian faith.

I am my outspoken self even in my dreams, so naturally I said I had avoided that movie because it was just too violent for my liking. I don't need to watch a religious snuff film. My nightmares are fueled with enough images for several lifetimes already.

Sigh. This was not a popular viewpoint. The priest started in on me about it, and the fact that he felt my spirituality was flawed because I lacked a proper fear of God. We argued back and forth so much that I didn't even get to visit with my family and left in disgust.

An interesting observation that I had about this dream when I woke up is that my family, rather than coming to my aid, mostly just rolled their eyes at me and apologized to the priest for how I was offending him.

It is true that I am distant with my dad's side of the family. My father and I have had periods of estrangement to the point that my siblings (all much younger than me) barely know me. I am an utter stranger to my youngest sister Molly, which was never my intention. It just got too hard to bridge the distance of 2300 miles and the emotional gulf that still lies like an open wound from where my brother Ryan used to be. Without him to bridge the generation gap as it were, I feel totally old and separate and different from the rest of my brothers and sisters.

Of course, I am different in that I have a different mother than they do. And I live far away. And I am a whole generation older. And I am different from most other people in a lot of weird little ways, or so I am told. I feel vastly misunderstood sometimes. Luckily for me I have people in my life who at least mostly get me as a person. But the fact remains that it has always been a regret of mine that I couldn't rise above the hard times I was having with my father to be there for my siblings more.

When Ryan was alive, he did that. He looked out for them. I am a poor substitute for him in that regard. I'm trying, little by little, to let them know now that I am in their corner, that I have always loved them, that I am, unlike Ryan, still within reach. In still, small movements, I am just trying to be there.

I may have imperfect faith, but I do have perfect love, if not fully expressed yet. It is still a big gap, but when wounds heal, the edges get closer together. Healing is my business, so I guess Ryan would want me to do the work.For him I really will.

Dream: Showing up for Nursing Boards Naked

Plus Bonus Dream Subplot: Europe Won't Allow my Yankee Spices!

More wacky stories from the sideshow that is my subconscious.

I dreamed the other night that due to bad time management and stress, I showed up an hour late for my appointment for the NCLEX exam, plus I was naked. Plus, instead of a written test, it was to be a practical demonstration of cadaver dissection overseen by my old Anatomy & Physiology professor, Doctor Burke. He didn't approve of my lateness but didn't seem to notice the fact that I was nude. I had to dress in full isolation gear as if I was treating a patient with MRSA or TB, and go and quickly dissect a corpse without making a mess of it. In two hours.  Actually, I think that actually would be easier than taking the real NCLEX, but I digress...

One of the reasons I was stressed in the dream was that I had to pass on the first try, because I was moving to Europe to practice Nursing immediately afterward. It was in the back of my mind that the customs people had told me that I couldn't take my Dean & Deluca spices with me. Not like European countries don't have spices available, but I had purchased these at considerable expense and wanted to take them along. I was building an argument in my head that I should be allowed to take Herbes De Provence to freaking Provence! The nerve!

My dreams have been so jumbled up lately. I think I am finally processing all the changes I have been through since May. Life has been damn busy, and once I get past the NCLEX, things can calm down a bit. That is, if I let them. I am so accustomed to being in near-constant motion that I am not sure I know HOW to relax anymore. By the end of summer I hope to have fewer things hanging over my head and can enjoy the rewards of all this hard work!

Dream: Seth Green and the Burning City

I have been super tired lately. Last night I went to bed super early to try to get some decent shuteye. Apparently, my subconscious had other ideas. I went on a wild ride in my head.

First up, the setting was in Reno where I live now, only the State budget was so bad that all the firefighters and police had lost their jobs. Things looked broken down and burned out everywhere.It  looked bleak.

But I had a date, I guess. I was at a bar with actor Seth Green. Now mind you, I do not have a crush on Seth Green. I don't really think about him that way. But in my dream, we were drinking and carrying on. We went into a private room and things got steamy. I was digging it and really getting into him. Bizarre.

Then he told me that he wasn't really feeling the same way. I was crushed. Like, beyond unhappy. I was desolate. I pitched a fit. I made a spectacle of myself. I cried and begged him to take it back. He was looking at me with a mix of pity and disgust. I felt horrible.

I was driving home and crying in the car. There were buildings burning all around me and there were flaming cars on the side of the road. I felt like I had lost the only person who would ever love me. It felt really real.

When the alarm went off, I had to shake that dream off. I felt like crap for part of the morning. All because of some make-believe crap. Sheesh.

Dream: Things are Unfriendly in Portland

My dreams sure are strange.

In my dream I drove to Portland, and did half of the drive in my sleep, so I wasn't really sure where I was. Tony met me and we checked into a hotel. Unfortunately, our room had no privacy, because the elevator was inside it, and there was no door on the bathroom.

We found out there was some kind of film festival going on. This would have been cool if that was what we were there for, but we didn't want to participate. It seemed like there were people absolutely everywhere, and they were so focused on the film festival that they overran everything.

Then we came upon a street with lots of little shops and a pub on the corner that was painted bright green. I was remarking that I had seen it before in a dream, so I wanted to explore. Film festival people were everywhere, and they were very unhappy with us being there since we were not participating in the event.

At one point I asked a woman on the corner who was a local "Are people usually more friendly here?"

"Not really." she said. "Not like you'd think."

The rest of the dream was spent trying to get back to the car to get out of Portland and away from the hostile people. It was totally weird, because I know Portland is a laid back, cool place. I have considered several times to relocate there and have looked at schools up there for continuing my education.

If I ever see that pub in real life, I will laugh so hard.

Dream: Crab Cracker

Onward with the crazy dream odyssey. Last night I had a ton of wild dreams that had a lot of traveling themes. One part in particular that sticks with me this morning is a journey taken in a Winnebago with my mother and a younger blonde teenage girl. We drove out to see a man who lived on a rock outcropping jutting into the sea. He was waiting for us and was going to make us dinner. When we got there he asked us to help him set the table. There was a huge pile of silverware on the table, and not just the ordinary stuff, but also crab crackers and shrimp forks and special butter knives and things. I was the only one who knew how to set it all up relative to my plate.

The man brought us a bottle of white wine, and paused while he was pouring it to note that outside the panoramic windows in the dining room, the sun was setting, He said "Watch the waves." and as the sun set, the waves settled down from crashing against the rocks to lapping them gently. He continued. "It always amazes me that the ocean knows that the day is done and it is time to rest. It is so peaceful."

The young blonde peered at the waves through the green glass of the half empty bottle of wine and smiled.

Dream: Action Gopher

My dreams are like being in a surrealist film every night. Here's the latest proof that I have lost my mind:

I dreamed that on the spur of the moment, I would leave a bar where a blond man was buying me a shot of tequila, and instead go white water rafting. Wait-it gets weirder. I payed money to rent a raft and they made me take a safety course. In addition to giving me a flotation vest, they also gave me the following essential items:

A live blue parakeet
A live black kitten
And a pound of ground beef wrapped in butcher paper

But no sunscreen

So I took the elevator down to where I was supposed to present my receipt and get my raft, but to my horror the parakeet flew into the space between the floor of the elevator where the track of the closing doors crushed it to death. I went back upstairs and tearfully confessed that I had killed/lost the bird. To replace it, they gave me a gopher named "Duncan". He seemed a little more sturdy than the parakeet and I set off.

I was worried again about the lack of sunscreen.

At the first set of rapids, I lost the kitten and the ground beef overboard, and was very upset. I was determined that I was not going to lose the gopher.

We made it through the rafting trip, and I took the gopher home, where I housed him in a cage and he made friends with another strange, possibly alien creature that I had in there. Duncan the gopher cuddled up with the other creature and seemed glad that his rafting days were over.

Dream: Torch Singer

I had a strange stress dream last night that all the students in my nursing class and I were in some sort of stage production that involved singing and dancing. That is, I was singing and they were dancing. For some reason. there was a choreographed dance sequence that I was not involved in. I was going to sing a torch song instead. I was sort of relieved, since I am short and way overweight for hoofing it in the spotlight, but I was very aware of this in the dream as being the reason I had been given something else to do.

The main action of the dream was taking place in the few hours before curtain, when everyone was dressing, curling their hair, and putting on makeup. The pace was frantic and we were all scrambling to get ready. I had been forcibly strapped into a very tight corset, stockings, and a black off the shoulder evening gown. I had my makeup on and I was wearing deep red lipstick that I kept touching up. But I needed help with my hair and couldn't find my sheet music to give to the pianist. Everyone was so busy that I was having trouble getting help.  In the end, I was stretching the limits of the cord of a curling iron to try to do my own hair in front of a mirror that was a few feet away from the electrical outlet.

It reminded me a bit of my old vaudeville days at the Gaslighter Theatre. Nursing School is almost over. Am I the proverbial Fat Lady Who Sings?



Image:

http://collectiononline.chrysler.org/collections/OBJECT_edit.asp?id=23935&page=1

Dream-Dragon in the living room

Dreamed this morning after I went back to bed with a gnarly red wine hangover. All kinds of mixed up things, including living in a house with lots of family, and someone had brought home a young dragon, who had set up a nest in the living room. The room always hung with smoke from its breathing, and I wasn't sure I could live in a house like that much longer.

Little A was in my dream again, just being there in her proper place, misbehaving and just being a kid. It is always so sad to wake up and have that not be true. I miss her.

I also dreamed that I went to a large specialty fish market, and a friend of mine who worked there had set aside a package for me with 4 different sizes of shrimp, from tiny bay shrimp to large Vietnamese Tiger prawns as big as a man's hand. I remember thinking it was thoughtful of him to pick them for me. I had to stand in a long line to pay for them.

When I woke up my headache and nausea were much better, but I had lost much of my day to paying for last night's frivolity. Oh well, that is pretty rare for me. Have to have some fun sometime.

Dream-Goats in the Refugee House

Ok, this one was a doozy and I am going to struggle to capture it all before it fizzles out in my brain.

I was in a house, ostensibly newly living there with a huge family. It was clear from the way the front door was boarded up that we were all squatters in an abandoned area. There was barely room for the people, but there were also animals in the house. Not just dogs and cats (my dachshund Ember was also with me) but farm animals like goats and chickens that moved from the backard to the living room. The goats were female and being used for milk. Much talk was being spent on getting the guy down the street with a male goat to come over and breed his goat with ours.

There was music being made and a general atmosphere of badly funded but bohemian and somewhat nomadic existence. I was new to it and it was a bit uncomfortable for me to have no privacy and no real possessions of my own. The men sized me up for my sexual potential, but rarely talked to me.

Some younger man noticed my elk antler Inanna necklace (I own this in real life) and was talking to me about it. It was the first real conversation I had had in a while, and I ended up making out with him. Even so, it didn't really feel like a real connection, just better than most.

I spent some time in the dream taking care of a baby girl that one of the other women had. I was feeding her some mango pudding, and it was getting all over her face in a sticky mess.

Basically, it was just me and my dog in this chaotic atmosphere with goats and babies and messy overcrowded conditions. So freaking strange.

Image: http://www.spraguephoto.com/search.lasso?-token.display=&keywords=5371+Christian+women+of+Kerela,+India.&country=&category=&set=&number=&skip=0&-token.advanced_search=true&-token.showcaptions=Hide+Captions&-token.max=120

Dream-Doorbell Cocktails

Bizarre dream last night. I was out with some of my Palo Alto guy friends and saw this attractive blonde on the street. She was going door to door, all dressed for a party. We asked her if she was lost, and she said no, that she made a practice of going to the doors of strangers and asking if she could come in for a drink. They almost always said yes, and it saved her on cocktail money.

At first I was offended at the very idea, but then we hung out with her more and she was so fun and full of joie de vivre that we all were soon in her thrall. She was up for anything, including jumping into a game of soccer in her high heels to score the winning goal. Her name was Christy, and she was seemingly good at everything.

I went to a party with Christy later, and we were playing and having a great time, when I saw a dark haired man staring at us. I assumed that he was staring at her, but after a time he approached me. He was looking at me! Before I left, I kissed him and told him how to find me later.

There was more to it, but it was pretty vivid, and I felt very caught up in that wild energy. Fun!

Dream-White Dog

Despite a lifelong love of black dogs, I had a dream about a white one last night. I am not sure how I hooked up with it, but somehow I ended up with this sweet little white fluffball, and she had a name that was a little too similar to Little A’s name. I knew I couldn’t keep her with that name, so I named her “Apple”.

Apologies to Gwenneth Paltrow, etc., but Apple is a cute name for a little doggy. Then again, I wanted to name my dachshund “Doctor Heimlich”, but Tony put his foot down on that one. I still don’t know why he had such strong feelings about that, but he refused to permit me to name my dog such a thing.

In the dream people were giving me a hard time for naming my little friend Apple, but she was pretty darn cute. Her fur was soft as cotton fluff, and she had a very smiley sort of face.

I read on a few dream interpretation sites (Gawd, I so love the interwebs! What a geek I am!) that dreaming of a friendly white dog is supposed to be a good omen, foretelling of success in business and in love. For women it is supposed to mean an early marriage.

I am a bit old for an early marriage, and in any case already married. But it was such a sweet little dog. I keep thinking about it and wishing I had it to play with.

I already have a fantastic dog, of course. Ember is just awesome. But there is something going on with me that I want a new family member to dote on. Some frustrated mommy-thing that needs something or someone small to hold. Losing a family member this year has triggered some last minute biological clock jangling that I find positively annoying.

I like the idea that I would dream something good, for a change. An actual GOOD omen? That is unheard of for me. I am so Type A that I am usually much better at fretting than taking good news at face value and relaxing a little.

I want to believe it. Someday soon things need to start going my way. I don’t need to have the whole world at my feet, but I wouldn’t say no to some magi-given gifts for a change.

Dream-In the weeds again

I'm in the kitchen in my mind again. My brain must really want to make sense of my life. I had a dream last night that I got a job at a lovely little bistro as a line cook of some kind. It was a busy and crowded kitchen, with the expected amount of fire and flashing knives. I was trying to hurry up and find the things I needed (setting my mis en place) for the dinner rush. The joint was jumping, and I was a little uncoordinated.

I think it is funny that when my stress levels rise, I often dream about cooking. There is something about my mind's desire to put things in order, to have what I need at hand. I wish the problems I am facing now were that easy to sort out. It is easy when you have a well-organized kitchen and can reach out and have what you need to make anything at your fingertips.

Can I do that with my mental well-being? What is the equivalent of the dish of chopped shallots that is ready to saute? What is the analog for mirepoix? I need to figure out the key to that demanding executive chef in my dreams. I need to crank out the tickets in the window without getting in the weeds. I want to please my "customers" with a beautiful plate. What is that beautiful plate in my life now? What product of my creativity will give me the reassuring results?

Lots of questions and few answers. But it rolls around in my head. I keep looking for beauty in everyday things. I know I can still create something good, even if I am having to search harder for my shallots.

Dream-Needles and Pins

Ah, old fashioned stress dreams. Just what I need. My poor brain is crying uncle already this semester.

I had a dream last night that I was with a couple of my professors from nursing school, and I was searching all around for the equipment I needed to either give shots or start an I.V., so basically I had fistfuls of sterile wrapped needles.

I was trying to stare unblinking and watch as Mrs. Croysdill inserted the needle into my own arm to demonstrate the finer points of the technique. But it HURT, so I closed my eyes. When I opened them, she was telling me to take out the needles whenever I wanted.

There were about 100 of them, inserted in my skin all over both of my arms. And not just IV needles, but sewing pins and darning needles and stuff.

So, one by one, with mobility limited by all the pointy needles, I had to pull them all out. For some reason I was either unable or unwilling to ask for help.

That about sums up how I feel about my life right now. Although I adore my professors and fellow students, I am stressed and somewhat helpless feeling.

Dream-Author as Murderer

I'll blame NyQuil and James Bond for last night's dream. I was watching "Thunderball" prior to bed, and I have a nasty little cold.

I was dreaming vividly about being a writer (I know, I am typecasting myself) and I was trying to work out under what circumstances my character would push a person off a rooftop. I was trying out different rooftops and victims in my dream. I even pushed Pavarotti off the Hilton in San Francisco. I know, Pavarotti is already dead, but it was pretty dramatic and windswept and raining, so very compelling as an image.

There was a lot of riding in elevators to the tops of tall buildings in that dream. totally bizarre. Not really sure what that means. I dream about being an assassin pretty often, actually. I just love 007, so that doesn't shock me. I am, in real life, the last person on earth that any agency, government or otherwise, would hire to kill people. I look like everyone's cookie-baking auntie.