Night Sea Journey

Surreality

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 14:59:00 +0000

I dreamt I was living in a nicer, larger apartment that I have and I had all the old, antique furniture from my family: my grandma's mahogany side tables, my grandfather's dresser, the credenza from my other grandparents.

There were people coming in and out, friends I suppose, and there was this younger blond woman. – the kind I don't think is so mature or smart and I have to tell my friend to make sure that they don't wreck the places, specifically I don't want them putting their drinks on the side tables without coasters and ruining the wood. I see that they have no respect.

Then I leave with this man and we are on a train to France. (I think we were in England before.) I am not paying much attention on the train. I'm watching a movie on someone's laptop that I am sitting next to but I glance out the window and I see how beautiful the country is. I tap the man who is sitting in front of me on the shoulder and I say, "Oh, my God, it really is so beautiful here" as if the beauty of France were some rumor that I am surprised to find is based on fact.

Then we are in an apartment that we have swapped with the man who owned it. He is in England while we are here.

There is a painting, a portrait of Magritte??, but just of his head. He is middle aged and has a light beard and mustache and curly/wavy black brown hair framing his face. It looks like one of those portraits from the start of the modern age that were still done in the old style. The picture is over a black bureau across from the bed, next to a sliding glass door to a patio/deck garden. And there is a photo of the man hung above the picture.

Like Water for Chocolate

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 14:50:00 +0000

I dreamt I was in my mother's kitchen and my sister was dying and went beserk. The kitchen table was not in the kitchen and she came at me with a knife and stabbed me a couple of times but as she was sick and a bit weak, I was able to grab the knife from her and stab her a couple or more times. I stabbed her a lot really but she would not die.

She was lying on the floor, straight on her back where the table should have been. She was still alive and still dangerous. We called the police but they weren't coming.

Then it's my birthday and there is a lunch or dinner for me at this nice restaurant. It's a nice town, kind of by the water and I am driving my sister's car except it is an SUV. I pull up early and don't want to park it on the first side street because it is too dark, kinda of dusk/dawn like, and the car is new-ish and I don’t want it to be stolen. So I drive around to the other street which is well lit and people are there because there is a bus stop.

And then I see the parking lot which I move to. The car is a motor cycle now and it’s light out like lunch time. I park the bike right in front and then I remember about my friend’s brother who had his motorcycle stolen twice and put the key back in to put the lock on the ignition. Then a couple of guys pull in next to me and say “nice bike” and I tell them about locking the bike and my friends’s brother. I also tell them it is my sister’s and I just got it.

Then someone pulls in on the other side and I am feeling boxed in. These other guys have a van and have parked too close so their door will scrap my bike. The bike is now back to the green sedan it used to be like my sister’s old car. Then the car is gone and I realize it has been stolen.

Then my mom comes out because she is in the restaurant with everyone and I am missing my birthday lunch. I tell her the car has been stolen and she is useless and blank which is the way she gets when she knows it’s important but can’t or won’t lift a finger to help. She walks around the parking lot with me but since she can’t see, she really isn’t helpful. I know it’s gone and we’re not going to get it back.

I call the police inside the restaurant by the hostess before I go into the back room that has been reserved for my party. I speak to this woman who is useless. She won’t even really take a report and doesn’t ask for the license plate so I know she’s not really going to help or do her job. I ask for her supervisor and she has a thick, illiterate NY accent and it sounds like she says, Pollis Drubbin – “police drubbing” really so I ask her to spell it. She spells H-o-l-l-i-s D-r-u-b-6-6-6. When she spells the numbers I get so mad because she’s making it clear she’s malevolent and is never going to help me or do her job.

I go inside and everyone is now passing around dessert. Miranda from Sex and the City showed up and pulled up a chair. There isn’t any place for me to sit at the table, here at my own birthday party, and I have to sit back from the table. I ask Mom if she ordered/saved me a plate of food for me because the kitchen is now closed. She says no in that innocent way that It never occurred to her. I am so mad and so sad: it’s my birthday, the car is stolen, I’ve missed my party and while there are people in the room who certainly would have ordered and saved me a plate of lunch, they didn’t because they assumed my mother would do it. So even though it’s my party, it’s not like my party at all.

The Ultimate Animal

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Sat, 01 Aug 2009 21:51:00 +0000

I dreamt I had taken a road trip with my friend Cindy/Sookie from True Blood and another girl down to Washington, D.C. The hotel was big and the city was more complicated and large like NYC than D.C. actually is. The hotel itself was a little city almost, like the way casinos are little cities with restaurants and shops and places to walk inside.

Jack Nicholson, was there like he was as the devil in the Witches of Eastwick and something was going on between him and Cindy/Sookie. We had to leave suddenly.

I went back to the room to pack and was rushing. Then Cindy and Tara from True Blood, who was the other girl with us, came back to pack. Jack, the devil, and a couple of assistants showed up. Some rule had been broken by us. He was enraged and was trying to get Cindy.

I was in another room trying to pack quickly and hoping I could get out while he fought with her. The room was rickety in a lot of ways, like a cabin with doors that didn't quite shut and supplies around. It was hard to pack with so much stuff everywhere. My stuff was mixed with Cindy's, Tara's and the rooms' sheets and towels, etc. Some of my stuff was also in the other room in which they were fighting.

Then Jack burst in. He was trying to impregnate Cindy/Sookie but she had done something to trick/undermine him and broken what he thought was their agreement. He knew he couldn't fuck me instead because I was innocent as to what their deal was and did not agree to its terms. But he then said something about how he thought he had learned or figured out another way to do it without fucking me.

He grabbed me and pulled me up so my legs were wrapped around his waist. We were both fully clothed. I was hanging down so my head, shoulders and arms were on the floor. He tried to get inside me energetically, like into every cell. Everything shook like when there is turbulence on a plane. I pushed back, trying to push my spirit/energy into him to take him over or at least resist being impregnated.

I started to pray too, in my mind, in old prayers from my church, sending that into him, thinking that would at least repulse him. He went away.

While this was going on Cindy and Tara got ahead of me in packing and were almost ready to leave me behind. I didn't know if what I had done with Jack had protected myself and was worried I would have to wait it out to know. I was still having a hard time finding my stuff.

It was 2:30pm and the girls were downstairs now. I was checking among the mess to make sure I didn't leave anything behind. In one of the drawers in a sideboard for a dining room, I found pieces for a giant chess set. And I thought maybe I should have played chess with Jack as a battle instead.

I went to bring one of my bags outside. A guy Tara knew was there. When I went back in to finish up, all these Asian bag people were there ready to check in right behind me. They just looked at me politely but like they were tired and waiting on me.

Last Night's Dream: More of the Animal Instinct Returns

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 14:00:00 +0000

I dreamt I was in some small town, waiting tables at what seemed to be a huge Friendly’s. Michael from my gym worked there in the kitchen I think and I was a waitress.

At the end of my shift, I found out that a table that I had ordered for at the beginning of still hadn’t received their food. And they were still waiting. I’d forgotten them and the kitchen had forgotten them. They were a nice family of four. There was also another family with a son in a wheelchair who wanted to see the restaurant’s rules/codes and asked me where they were posted. I wasn’t sure but knew I should know so I gave them some general, “over there” type of direction.

I went into the kitchen to find the cook. It wasn’t Michael anymore but a big, obese guy had taken over the cooking. The kitchen was closing up. I drag him out into the restaurant to take a look at the forgotten family but he was just so overwhelmed and sweating and perspiring from stress and exertion that he was dripping sweat on me. He was almost in “What can I do about it?!!” panic mode.

Then I was at Michael’s apt. We were going on a date before I would fly back to NY. He was very nice and I sat on a kitchen on a little step while he changed in his room. I saw something crawling under the carpet by the sink and out popped a little dog, my little dog.

It was sort of gold and white, a bit mangy, like those hotdog type of dogs but pudgy. Then another dog just like it came up and started licking it and snuggling it in a cardboard box on the floor. The other dog was Michael’s and I thought it was interesting that we both had the same kind but his was more energetic and cleaner than mine.

Then his dog started talking, like just plain old talking me up, telling me about living there and the roommates there. I had been wondering about that – whether Michael lived alone or had roommates.

The dog says that one of the roommates has sex quite often as women just like him. I guessed that it must be Michael he was talking about.

Then Michael came out with a big cubical box in pink wrapping paper with white dots with a big gold-brown bow on top interrupting me and the dog for a moment. He says it’s my birthday present and then leaves to finish getting ready. He was so cheerful and kind.

I went into the rest of the house to find him to ask if I could borrow a towel to wash off my dog who was weary from travel. I said I knew it was weird to ask but it would only take a second. He gave me a towel and I got my dog and filled the sink with warm water to wash and towel him off.

Last Night's Dream: Cats and Dogs

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Fri, 24 Jul 2009 12:55:00 +0000

I dreamt I was having lunch with Michelle Obama. She was wearing the purple dress she wore to the State of the Union. She was asking me to read this page of an article so I could write an article about women and politics. However, in the middle of reading it and talking to her, I got distracted and wasn’t paying attention and then wasn’t sure what she wanted me to do. Because it was the First Lady, it was awkward for me to explain that I hadn’t paid attention and wasn’t sure. Not listening to her directives was just not something you did.

Then I am at my Mom’s. I wake up super early and realize my Mom hasn’t come home. I am anxious not knowing where she is and also anxious about sleeping in the house while I am alone. I know I have to get up and let the pets out. We have a lot of cats and dogs.

I try to get Smokey and the other cats to out in the front of the house so I can let the dogs out the back. But the cats won’t follow. I am trying to keep the big dogs, some of them, separated from the cats so they don’t go after them.

Then I dream I am at my Mom’s trying to get ready to go home. My laundry is all over the house and I’m trying to pack and Mom has hung a clothes line right by the door.
Michelle and I both tell her that using the old pole from the swingset for a laundry line is not a good idea. If there is a storm it could get blown in and smash the new door.

Then I go into the room I stay in and the landscaping guys have been in there to blow the floor clean like they do with the leaves and cuttings. They have moved my things and I think they’ve maybe stolen something but they’ve just moved everything.

Then a Japanese girl is laughing looking at the cover of one of the DVDs I produced and a magazine cover. She is laughing because she’s a fan and wants to show me that she did her hair spiky and short the same way as the guy on the cover of the DVD. She’s excited but I don’t understand a word she is saying and I just sit there wishing she wouldn’t be so loud.

Last Night's Dream: Really Big Animals

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 00:53:00 +0000

I dreamt I was at my parents’ house. Mom and Dad were there and it was a bit bigger and nicer than it really is. Matthew McConaughey was there with his dog, Bo. It was a Portuguese Water Hound like the Obamas but an adult dog, not a puppy, and it was all black.

Bo kept playing and biting my feet which made me nervous because he was a big dog but he was just playing and never clamped down. We had a barbeque going on.

Across the street a couple of our neighbors were standing in front of their house. A giant eagle, big and taller than the house, started pecking at another neighbor who lives across from them and carried him away. Mom and Dad and I were stunned.

Then a giant gorilla, bigger than the house, showed up in our yard. Dad was in the kitchen in a lounge chair and like it was Jurassic Park, I told him to stay perfectly still so the gorilla wouldn’t pick up the motion.

I went around the house with Mom and started pulling the shades and closing the windows so the gorilla wouldn’t be able to see in. Something, draperies, were stuck in the windows of my old bedroom but I was able to move them and get the windows closed.

Last Night's Dream

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Mon, 20 Jul 2009 00:31:00 +0000

I dreamt I was at my mother's house but either it was bigger and nicer than it is or it was a nicer version of my apartment. There was a kind of party going on. It was summer. My ex boyfriend, Bob, was there with some other guy. They were sitting at a table like in a position as if it was our neighbor’s dining room or kitchen.

I went to talk to Bob. I wanted to make peace. He was pissed off – like he really hated me and he was so seething he wouldn’t talk to me. He just wanted me to go away. I felt embarrassed at being rejected.

Then the guy Bob was with came up to me and just tried to explain his temper. He says something like, “He gets mad and into these moods, it doesn’t have anything to do with you necessarily. Sometimes he hangs up on me.”

I was surprised. “He hangs up on you?” I said. “I would ever let Bob do that to me.” And it’s true. If Bob starting acting out like that, I’d be out the door.

Then I am at the end of the driveway and Bob and the dude are going. They have a mattress with them, like the one from the old hospital bed of my dad’s that Mom and I keep as a spare. I tell them they’ll have a hard time moving that and I can give them a ride in our truck. I have to get the keys though.

I wind up walking quickly to Macy’s at the Mall and when I am almost there I realize that I had the keys all along. I can’t find my way home as when I turn around to go back all the roads are different. The one I start to take at first looks like a local road but there are all these black people hanging out in the streets, seeming to be preparing to riot a bit or something.

I am only wearing this sheer lavendar thing tied around me like the towels I take into the sauna.

I go down another road and before I get too far a man is right up behind me and he says something right in my ear. It’s Kevin Bacon and he’s going to make sure I get home safe.

New Daddy?

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 22:32:00 +0000

I had a dream that I was being adopted by the Obamas. The President was there and he had a teenage son in addition to the two daughters. My Mom was still my mom but they were making me a member of the family.

We were talking about dating and I said something like it's a good thing that the son was younger than me because if he was older then between the two of them, I wouldn't be allowed out at all.

The President just laughed. It wasn't like that at all. He's not uptight about anything and wants all his kids to do what is healthy and happy.

A New Way to Get Around

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Sun, 21 Jun 2009 22:06:00 +0000

I had a dream I was at my parents and we had bought my father home from the nursing home. It was Saturday morning and my father had gone out and wasn't home and my mother and I were concerned. Usually my father ran quick errands on Saturday morning - to get fertilizer or a car part or something for the garden and would come right back. It was summer and was starting to rain.

I went outside and my father pulls up in a little hunter green Jaguar. He's not in his wheelchair and is younger and wearing a black v-neck sweater over a white t-shirt and bluish-gray work pants. We have two other cars in the driveway and one is the car we actually do own in real life.

Dad has the windows on the Jaguar open even though it is raining. He had gone out to get the car fixed up. I sit inside and think this would be cool to inherit and drive to the city. But I imagine that even though it's an older and heavy car, it's tiny and bringing it into the city with the big traffic and lack of air bags might be tricky.

Then the car as I am sitting in it starts to take off. It's still not working right so I can't quite stop it. It's better to let it go than to try to turn it around. It's like if you take your foot off the brake, it idles so fast it starts to move.

I am out in the street but do not know how to put it in reverse because it is stick so I realize/decide that it is better to drive it around the block and just pull it back into the drive way that way. I hope Dad won't be mad.

The upholstery is a golden yellow corduroy and the inside roof is a red velvet. It is cozy but spacious enough for one really. Anymore would feel claustrophobic.

On the street, there's a garbage can and something else in the middle of the road. The streets are made of the old blue stone that they were made of when I was little before the town repaved them with the standard, ugly black top. I clumsily drive between the obstacles on the road.

Then I am on the block behind ours and the next thing I know I am inside a store? a dorm? and then a restaurant driving my father's wheelchair instead. It is like one of those open air, summer-town restaurants. I am going down the aisle and there is a nerdy African American teenage boy who spills a cappucino on me. I am almost home.

I say, "I'm sorry, it's all my fault" to the kid. Then this woman is trying to ask me to pay twenty dollars for the coffee. I say that's outrageously overpriced and she says, "You just admitted it was your fault!"

I say it's a figure of speech like I was being polite to have said it and that I never touched the boy. But the truth is, I can't remember if my feet in the chair bumped him a little but I do know I did not plough into him.

She says she's calling the police, homocide dept. Then she corrects herself and just says police.I am leaving and tell her I live right behind here and she can find me.

It is interesting to see our house and garden from the street in the back. There is a gently sloping concrete path back to our house which I take through our backyard. I am back at the garage and Dr. House is Dad. He's totally understanding about me taking the car. Before I can explain the fast idle, he says the car idles fast and takes off. Our garage is kind of large and sunken and reminds me of one of my relatives in Cold Spring Harbor.

Moving Forward or Back?

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Sun, 07 Jun 2009 22:00:00 +0000

I dreamt I had moved back to my old apartment on the East Side. As I was unpacking, I went into the bathroom. There were big black ants pouring out of the wall. I went to the kitchen to get some bug spray and the same was happening there – ants.

I went back to the bathroom and spiders and small mice, etc. were coming out. I went to find my keys to go downstairs and tell the doorman or find the super. Then small frogs (and little chicks?) started hitting the window, splattering and raining down. I knew this was a big storm coming. I went downstairs anyway.

Next thing I know I am back upstairs, getting out of the elevator on the way back to my apartment. I make small talk with some of the new neighbors before I go in. The windows on my apartment have been damaged. There’s whole row across a wall and half are hanging off. I am the first level of apartments where the building starts to terrace so there is no apartment over the part where the windows are gone.

As I go to the window, I can see all the skyscrapers on streets to the north of me are ripped apart too. This was a tornado, an Act of God.

I wonder/worry about how I am going to sleep there since the apartment is now not closed although I also know I am not the only one in this spot. It’s a large scale problem in which I am not alone. However, the with this being city-wide, the cranes and construction crews are going to be tied up and in demand. It’s going to take time to fix.

I try calling the super in the building I just left to see if the West Side building has damage. I haven’t formally sublet it yet and could always move back as expensive as it would be to move right back.

Last Night's Dream: Attack and Invasion Lite

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 17:49:00 +0000

I dreamt I was in my apartment on the phone with my friend, Michael. A huge white commercial jet with red and blue markings zipped low and quickly over my building from the west. And then another. Then a plane cartwheeled in the river and another crashed in Jersey in a fireball and then another went over my building. Clearly an attack was on.

I was worried one of the planes that had been flying over my building would be too low and crash into it instead.

My apartment was bigger and nicer than reality and a couple of guys had gathered there – young, film crew –type guys or Seth Rogen/Jonah what’s his name actors.
I check the internet and there’s no news yet so I go outside on my balcony which although connect by stairs to the balconies above and below is usually private. There is a crowd of people gathered. We are all scared but also after 9/11 know that this is which makes it a little less shocking even though there are more planes and the attack is bigger.

A bunch of debris starts to float in below us from one of the downed planes – clothes, body parts, babies, etc.. I am not in front so I barely get a glimpse and I look away as to not see the gruesomeness. It’s not necessary to gawk to know what it is. Some women in front of me are quite upset. I start talking with them and say we don’t know if this is a Middle Eastern attack or some bunch of racist guys upset about Obama.

Then I go outside to the rest of the building. It kind of reminds me of my uncle's beach condo but on a college campus and newer and kind of like an office too.

I see Michael Weston – or the actor that plays him? – in an office pitching someone for work. Non-acting work. I guess that’s what he does in between seasons. I want to talk with him and wonder if he sees me. I go up the stairs by this office and wind up dropping a shoe (those Keds flip flops I have) and have to go back to pick it up.

At the top of the stairs someone has left paper and stuff in boxes in a bad spot. They spill and the boxes fall down the overhang to the landing below. Toby Ziegler and some other guys from the West Wing are there and fortunately no one is hit. I get back to my room, still looking for Michael/the actor in the hallway.

Inside Jonah/Seth has invited some other guys over to drink and watch my TV. They are young guys, no one I know. When I said he could stay, it was to be relaxed and take shelter, not to party in my apartment! I am pissed but firmly tell him, it’s 6:30 now, take an hour and have everyone out by 7:30.

Then I notice the lock to my trunk is open and my camera equipment is out. I ask him if he did this and he admits he picked the lock. I am enraged and tell him that he has to go NOW. He doesn’t understand why I am so upset. They’ve opened some of my tape stock. I say, “When you were picking the lock, you had to know you were trespassing, that had to be a clue that you were doing something you shouldn’t.”

Then his wife, my sister, Kathleen, is there. [I don’t have a sister Kathleen.] She is blond and petite and pretty in an average kind of way. She agrees with me that they will go and she apologizes.

Then I see Seth/Jonah in the linen closet and Kathleen is telling him what stuff to take – cotton squares and Q-tips. I get pissed again. This is the stuff that I have to drive Mom to Walmart to get. I go to the kitchen, now it’s my parents’ kitchen, and I ask my Mom if she knew that Kathleen and her husband were loading up on all the stuff I take her to buy, the stuff that I spend my time helping her get in?

My Mom knows this isn’t all fair. They have to put the stuff back. We all sit at the kitchen table and Mom suggest to them that they take her shopping sometimes.

Then I start to ask Mom who Kathleen is as I don’t remember her from childhood. If she’s my sister, where did she come fron?

Last Night's Dream: Slowly Getting the Creative Juice Back

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 16:57:00 +0000

I dreamt I was back at my old record company with Adam Lambert. He was there to start his career. I was mentoring him and telling him my whole career history.

Then my old boss is there and she is pissed. It’s like I’ve been out on disability or for some personal reason and I’ve come back to work. I’m there to do more creative, playful work, production work with Adam and she’s pissed that I’ve been there all of two minutes and I don’t have everything in order already.

The office is kind of like my old bedroom at my parents. They’ve given me a really old computer to work with – like an IBM or something – and I can’t tell where anything is.

So I sit with Adam in a room like our bathroom crossed with a promotions closet and tell him about my career. He keeps putting his tongue in my ear to joke with me when I get to the part about my old boyfriend at work. It’s kind of adolescent as he is a kid and gay and it seems like he’s doing it to get attention and divert me from my story.

Then I feel worried about being fired even though I hate this job and the drudgery of what my boss wants me to do instead of what I want to do as well as the bitchy, mean way the women treat me. I go to my room/office to at least see what shape things are in. This job is boring enough that I should be able to get done what she needs me to do and still have time for what I want to do in between – although it never really works that way.

In the office are old 1” tapes, etc. I can’t find the current production schedule. I finally find one but it’s the corporate schedule, not the one for just our division. I am worried that I don’t even have the right schedule but it turns out that other women on staff only have this one too so I am not so our of the loop with them.

Last Night's Dream: Babies and No Babies

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Sat, 23 May 2009 01:43:00 +0000

I dreamt I was in my apartment watching "Real Time with Bill Maher". Then the next thing I knew I was being interviewed via satellite by Larry King and was a panelist. Larry asked me if I was surprised by the recent revelation that Bill Maher had a kid.

I say, "No, I know people who live the same lifestyle and it didn't surprise me. I mean - who am I to say? People look at me and think that I must have a couple of kids. They are surprised when they find out I don't."

Then Maher asks if I was ever pregnant. I say, "No" which gets applauds for my responsbility. I say, "I am always responsible. I'm such a good girl scout."

Then even Bill, who we just found out had a baby, says, "Good Girl."

Last Night's Dream: Everyone's Stealing My Stuff

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Wed, 13 May 2009 17:30:00 +0000

I dreamt I was at a wedding. It was for the guy who edited a film for me or some younger person. My parents were there and so was my sister. I left my purse with my Mom which had my laptop, wallet, iPod, keys, etc. and went to dance and have some fun. At one point I was hanging out with the actor Peter Riegert.

I went back to get my make-up and freshen up. My make-up was in my laptop bag. I left the rest of my purse with my Mom. I was with one of the Housewives from the "Real Housewives of..." show and we went to get candy. I had eaten but instead of getting real food, I was with her.

The dessert bar had just opened and the girls working it gave her full large, king size candy bars and full boxes of cookies - like Girl Scout thin mints or something. My friend said they gave her so much because she knew how to talk to them. Then I told them I wanted the same but the girl working the bar realized she shouldn't give out so much to anyone but she knew I saw how much she had given my friend. She gave me a half a box of mint cookies and a half of box of Entenmann's which was opened. It was not like what she gave Jill which was unopened, brand new.

I went back to my Mom and Dad and they had moved to another area. When I found them, they did not have my purse. I was enraged. How could my mother not pay attention? How could she not check? She sort of explained that she sort of thought I took my bag when I came to get my make-up but we both knew that she was somewhat aware that she still had my purse.

I was then crying and running around looking for my bag in every pile of coats and bags. The wedding was over and the place was emptying out and my bag could not be found. The staff was useless and condescending. They wouldn't help and were slow to give me paperwork to fill out to report it was missing and how to contact me should it be found.

I was so angry at my mother for being so irresponsible. I told her that between my laptop, wallet, iPod, and having to change the locks on my house for losing my keys, I'd probably be out three thousand dollars, not to mention the on-going identity theft I have be at threat of. She refused to reimburse me.

Then we were in my sister's old bedroom but it looked as it does now. I was so enraged that I kept calling her a cunt and I threw something -- a magazine? a copy of the theft report?- at her. It grazed her leg but she fell forward like it was a serious blow and looked like she hit her head on the dresser and went down.

I ran to her and turned her over listening for a heartbeat. I was calling to my Dad who was right there. My Mom was like she was when I was little. She was alive. She was faking.

My Dad had my bad. He had hidden it in another bag and put it in the chest of drawers or the trunk of the car to teach me a lesson.

Then I am on my way home to the city. I have to poop really badly and am having trouble finding a bathroom stall -- it's is like the lower level of the train station or the gym/locker room level of my elementary school again. I can't hold my poop and it starts to come out and I run into a stall but before I can lift up my long dress and move my slip and pull down my hose, I make a mess. Everything splashes.

Then the stall I am in is open at the top and people going from the reception to the train can see me. I have no privacy. Some guy says something about what a nice ass I have as I sit on the toilet. Then some Hispanic women come around and start mocking me.

There is one woman in particular who is picking on me. I tell her to fuck off and call her a cunt. Things are about to get violent between us so I apologize to calm things down and say "let's not do this" or something. She says the same but I can see in her eyes she's just acting is going to do something.

We shake hands lightly. She has tiny, pointy fingers and sharp nails. Kind of like one of evil housewives from the Devil's Advocate or the woman from dream who scratched me years ago. She tells me I did not do the handshake right, saying "No, it's like this" and we do it over and over. But every time she do the handshake, one of her cohorts comes up and behind me and steals a book from my shopping bag. I had four and by the time I can get my hand from hers, I have one left. I am pissed.

Then I am on a NYC bus going home. Jill and Bethanny from "Real Housewives of New York" are with me. I am a mess from the day - shit on me, bags askew, worn out. Jill is concerned that I get into my building safely. I tell her the bus stops right in front of my building and I only have to walk a few feet to get inside.

Last Night's Dream: Late Life Clean-Up and Crazy Figures from the Dark

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Wed, 06 May 2009 20:58:00 +0000

I dreamt I was a some cafe in a mall-like food court with a bunch of co-workers and women I knew slightly but socially. I was leaving and went to say goodbye to the group and this woman, Carol Ann (who I used to work with and bullied me). She looked more like Bethanny on the Real Housewives of New York than she does. We decided to get together for dinner in a few hours. There were a couple of little girls there, daughters of another woman fried who demanded I give them kisses goodbye before I left. So I chatted with them and kissed them goodnight.

I went home to Murray Hill and took a cab. When I realized the cab driver was taking me through traffic, through 42nd Street crosstown during rush hour, I got out. There was a big meter hanging off the traffic light and it said the fare was $11.23. I argued a bit with the guy as I knew that wasn't the right fare. Finally, I said show me the paper receipts. He handed me a pile of receipts and the fare was $2.13 or $3.13 or $3.23 so something. So I gave him a four dollar bill and a single.

After the cab, I am at my parents house. It has just gotten dark out and they both decide that they want to clean out the garage and pull both cars in for the night. I get upset with them because they waited until now -- they couldn't clean the garage out all day while it was light, now it's pitch black and they want to do it.

All the stuff from the house/garage is on the front lawn. The doors to the house are pen. I go to the back door just to look outside and see this dark figure walking towards me. It's obvious he intends to come in. I shut and lock the door as quickly as I can and run out to the front to tell my parents this. "This is why you don't do this stuff at night" I say. I grab my laptop and some other computer stuff to bring inside. I tell them that I thought the guy was young-ish and wearing jeans and a t-shirt but it was dark so I couldn't really see.

Then he is in the front of the house. He is weirdly-dressed, sort of homeless-looking, like Dexy's Midnight Runners-ish tramp-style. He is crazy. He says something about how I am needed for the aliens or he is supposed to come take me for some project. He is clearly on the verge of decompensating and hurting me.

I run into the house and get my sister, who is a physician's assistant, and some of the doctors she works with. I tell her she can commit this crazy guy. She says she can't personally but will take some of the doctors because they could.

I stay in the kitchen and dial 9-1-1 because I am afraid that they will just examine the crazy guy and let him go. I'm afraid that they won't take care of it. Every time I dial 9-1-1 nothing happens. I try a few times.

Then I hear sirens. I go outside and am told that an ambulance came and took him away to commit him. I am relieved.

Then I see I am so late to meet Carol Ann. She is going to think I stood her up which is going to start all her bullying of me again. I have to call her and try to explain. I think it's about 10pm but when I look at the clock on the oven, it's 7pm on the dot. It's not as late as I think.

Last Night's Dream: Turning Up for the Show

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Sun, 03 May 2009 20:33:00 +0000

I dreamt I was with John and he wanted me to go to church with him but it was some modern, informal type of church. I was at my Mom's and was tired and was not so enthused to go that I overslept for church with him.

When I got there, it was just one of those plain rooms with folding chairs, folding tables, blackboards on wheels, and linoleum floors. (There was also something about it being in Elgin, a city I've heard of from the show "Roseanne.") John was sitting in a chair at the end of the room and I went over to him. His legs were stretched out and his arms were folded over across his chest. There was no chair near him for me to sit in.

He was kind of mad at me but could not understand how I tried to get there. He did not appreciate how I came even though I did not really want to.

Then I was at a cosmetic trade show in a crappy hotel. The rooms were divided by those cheap accordian-type walls. John had asked me to come to this as well and was supposed to meet me. He wasn't there though.

A few more people came after me: this blond woman John and I used to work with, then a guy, then another guy or two who all asked for John. A whole bunch of us were there to meet him and were being stood up.

I went out to the lobby and called John on my cell. He said he got up and found this woman was in town who specialized in harmonica tuning and he had to go see her to have it done. I told him he couldn't just ask people to show up in a place and then not show up himself. It was selfish, indulgent.

Last Night's Dream

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Sat, 18 Apr 2009 17:49:00 +0000

I dreamt I was dating Ted Turner and we were at my parents. He had a blog and he was posting about jury awards or something.

He introduced himself to my parents and I finished the introduction awkwardly, not sure to refer to my parents as mom and dad or by their first names. They didn't look entirely ready or comfortable to meet him as he was older, their contemporary. But at the same time I could see my dad would like him as a guy.

Then the next thing I knew I was in my old room but as it is now, an office with a computer. Ted comes in behind me and shuts the door. I am lying on the floor stretching my back, trying to have some quiet time and de-stress from the time between him and my parents. Ted has a dog with him and I get up before the dog starts coming to me to lick my face. Ted lies on the bed.

I read his latest blog post about the juries and start to tell Ted that I remember my dad reading his autobiography in 1977 or something. He starts quizzing me about what his book was called. I say I can't quite remember, just remember sitting on my grandmother's couch in Syosset and vaguely can recall the book cover. I know my dad likes him as a guy and was a bit of a fan but might not like him for me.

Ted presses me to name the title even though he could just tell me. I go on the computer to look it up on Amazon. Ted pulls me toward the bed and starts kissing me. He's got old man lips and I'm not ready or comfortable even though I like him as a person. I don't like the power play aspect of this, of him making a move in my old room with my parents next door and such thin walls. Ted could easily take me away which is what I thought he would try to do.

I like Ted but I don't know about this.

Last Night's Dream

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Tue, 14 Apr 2009 14:21:00 +0000

I dreamt I was posing for a shoot in Vanity Fair with two other women. I was one of two back-up women to pose with the woman being featured. We were wearing evening wear. I had something strapless with a couple of pleats at the top, kind of like what Kate Winslet wore to the Golden Globes this year but red or white instead of grey. I posed with my back/profile to the camera to set off the lead.

When it was over, this woman who tortured me at my last job, turned to me and said, “I love you.” I just looked at her without saying anything. I think she genuinely meant it but with all the evil stuff she had done to me, I was not going to take it at face value. She was the one featured in the spread we were doing.

Last Night's Dream

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 19:26:00 +0000

I dreamt I had just bought this huge apartment in a new building downtown. It was cream with gold trim in the lobby, kind of art deco-ish in tone.

I had an apt on a high floor, which was huge and decorated in wood and teak green like a library almost with tall ceilings. Michael Weston was there and some other guy, an older guy. I think Michael and I were going to do a business project of some kind or were in the same field. Maybe it was the actor and not the character??

Anyway, things got personal as we talked and we slowly started to flirt and I told him to stick out his tongue (to diagnose him). I noticed and commented how balanced he was. His tongue was perfect and pink with no scalloping or cracks or coat. I told him how balanced he was.

We got very close and were forehead to forehead.
It was like that tantric thing with the guy in my other dream where we were just breathing each other in.

The old guy - kind of a burly Brendan Gleeson type - was still there and I was hoping he would excuse himself. So I get up for a second and pulled him into the kitchen and asked him to be a pal and go. No problem, he says sure but as we come out of the kitchen, Michael has picked up his backpack and says he had better get going himself. The moment had passed or he was spooked.

The next thing I know I am on a train, like the number 7 or the shuttle between Times Square and Grand Central and trying to go home. I get to my new building again and show my badge/cardkey to the doorman who swipes it - I like that there is good security in this building - and I get in the elevator with a few other people.

The elevator starts to shoot up quickly and misses my floor so I get off and go to to another car which drops down with that too quick, scary, free-fall feeling. We are free-falling but there are brakes.

Last Night's Dream: Dr. House Will Figure You Out

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Fri, 10 Apr 2009 21:52:00 +0000

I also dreamt that I had been hit and cut somehow by a wire and had a deep wound all the way across me and into my soft tissue. I was taken to Dr. House who was very eager/interested in treating me. In a way, this is comforting because he always figures it out.

Last Night's Dream: Defense by the Book

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Thu, 09 Apr 2009 18:51:00 +0000

I dreamt I was in a big library - the NYPL - and a fat woman opened fire. I dove under a desk but realized that it would not protect me. So I charged her and started beating her with a book. It was a large book, like the size of those ridiculously oversized greeting cards. That worked.

Last Night's Dream

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 18:26:00 +0000

I dreamt I was in bed with my parents in their room and Dad was there to my left and Mom was at my feet. Michelle called in and left a message on the machine. She was upset and suicidal, the whole "I should just fucking kill myself thing" and Mom picked up the phone and was trying to soothe her.

Then Dad had a silver gun and he pointed it right at my chest. It took me a second because his grip was so strong but I took it away from him. But he had another gun and shot himself. Dark blood oozed from his mouth and nose but he was still alive and normal otherwise, still talking and all. (In reality, he’s mortality injured, walking wounded.)

Then Mom was kind of pointing another gun at me and I got out of bed and sat next to it. In the dream, I knew this was a dream – it was very vivid – and I sat next to the bed trying to talk over with they had just done and what they were trying to tell me. But they were only characters and kind of blank as to discussing.

Then I was at some food store in the dairy section which was away from the other sections by a lot. It was a huge store like Whole Foods but very cement and crate-y like Buttercup Dairy. This guy was playing catch with his dog. The gooey ball kept coming near me so I took it and threw it. He rolled his eyes like I threw it in the wrong direction but we were downstairs so it kept bouncing off the walls anyway.

Then I went to leave and this girl was taking batting practice. I had to walk behind her and stopped her from swinging so she wouldn’t hit me. She was with two guys who were making her try this and was thanking me for stopping her.

Then I was in a store with Mom's towel around my shoulders. It was again like an edge of town/seaport/Wall St/meatpacking area. I wanted to get clothes since they were having a sale but nothing fit me. All the jackets were short, boleros. I was afraid that because of the towel, they would think I was trying to steal.

Last Night's Dream: Psychic Makeover Continues

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Sun, 05 Apr 2009 15:05:00 +0000

I dreamt I was downtown in some eastern seaboard city -- Boston? Providence? - it was NOT New York where I live. I had been given a sort of spa treatment as a gift. It was in an area kind of like the South Street Seaport - brick and boats and smaller streets and buildings.

This woman was conditioning my hair and then started cutting it. I stopped her and just let her finish and even off the bottom. Although I wanted a whole new haircut, she was not my regular guy and I guaranteed it would be a good cut. I had no idea how she would cut my hair.

Then i was trying to get home of somewhere and I was in a red/burgundy colored compact car with a few people. Michael Weston was in the front passenger seat and a woman was driving.

I was in the back with another woman. It was a little crowded. We had overnight bags and there was some junk in the backseat with us - tissue box, empty chip bags, water bottles.

Last Night's Dream: What is Hereth Ayetz?

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Tue, 31 Mar 2009 15:21:00 +0000

I dreamt I was at some doctor's office to be seen - for my stomach??? - I don't know. I was in a gown in the hallway. It was a very busy office, lots of energy.

One of the questions on the paperwork was "Do you do Hareth (or Hereth) Ayetz?" I did not know what that was so I checked yes.

Then later the doctor came and she was a young woman named Sterling Lord.
Sterling Lord is the name of a literary agency here in NYC that I have thought about in ages.
The doctor started reviewing the questionnaire/application I had filled out. However, as she reviewed it, there were other people's questionnaires/applications as well and people had to come up and pitch a creative project.

When she called on me, I said I didn't know we had to have one ready to pitch. It seemed odd to me that this doctor's office only treated artists and creative people. When she got to me I had to admit that I didn't know we had to have something to pitch or discuss and that I misunderstood.

She said, "But you checked that you do Hereth Ayetz?" And I said, yes but I didn't do it everyday. It was only then that I understood that Hereth Ayetz was a like a puzzle in the newspaper or a creative columnist that wrote up a challenge that appeared in the paper everyday like a puzzle.

Apparently, if I had been doing her everyday, I'd have something from the week that was assigned to present. Instead, Sterling, the doctor, who was a smallish woman, sent me to run a DVD powerpoint presentation for the group and the slide projector in the back of the room.

I also had a section of the dream where I was at my Mom's house and my sister was there and the family cat was very active. It had to do with planting and stormyness.

Last Night's Dream: Dress You Up

noreply@blogger.com (M.) — Thu, 26 Mar 2009 15:23:00 +0000

I dreamt I was traveling or in France and I was at this large, cream-colored luxury hotel, the kind that has designer boutiques and shops inside. I was with some group or on business.

There was this man, dark-haired, olive-skinned, who was with two model-type women. The were sort of picking out clothes. He sent someone to fetch clothes for them to try on and he took them into a dressing room to fool around.

I wandered around the shop and women starting picking out clothes for me. I didn't say anything. I didn't want to tell them flat out that I couldn't afford anything there and that I wasn't going to sleep with this guy to get clothes.

I was, though, curious to see what they could pick out for me since I would not normally be able to shop here. The woman was showing me the two outfits she picked. One little dress was a thousand dollars but even more, the necklace that went with the dress - or was it earrings? - and really made the whole outfit was an additional thousand dollars. I knew even if I wanted to be reckless and spend some hundreds of dollars that I could not afford, there was no possible way I could afford to splurge on any of this.

Then the guy was out of the dressing room with the women. The man and I were standing very close facing each other. We were clothed but it was kind of tantric, just breathing each other's air. He said it would be OK, that he would buy the clothes, that I should just try them on and see if I like them.

I went back into the store and in the dressing room I tried on these very well made, very heavy palazzo pants. They were great, very luxurious except that they were too long in the leg by a lot. There were made for some extremely tall supermodel. The fabric was too textured to take them in without ruining them.

Then we get called back to the meeting at the hotel. I wanted to and the staff wanted me to try on the other outfit.

It was a micro-mini which I knew from looking at was going to be way too small. I tried it on anyway and it was way too small.

I was more interested in trying on the sweater that went with it but did not know if there was time. I wanted to get something. I was having a hard time disentangling myself from the clothes so I could go back to the meeting. I wanted to wear something different.