Some dreams are quite the wicked little tricksters!!
I've been trying to put Pookie away. I tried to stuff him in the side pocket of my cargo pants, but he couldn't get comfortable. He claimed I kept moving around too much and that he was getting motion sickness. I tried to put him in my jewelry box, but he kept saying that my earring posts were sticking him six ways from Sunday. I tried to put him in my Christmas closet, but he said the mixed smell of last year's cinnamon and pine scented potpourri was giving him a headache. Next, I stuffed him in the sewing tin, but my button fell off and I had to fish the tin and subsequently him back out. He was screaming mad about being left in there beside the pin cushion. I think he thought I was going to use all those pins to mount him to a board like the beautiful butterfly that he is. Finally, I tossed him into my lingerie drawer ... and he seemed happy. A little too happy if you ask me. I thought ... whew ... finally ... I can get Pookie off my mind.
Wouldn't you know that Pookie found a way back in? He hijacked my dream and seduced me in front of God, his angels and all mere mortals roaming that same wee houred dream scape -- dozens of strangers whom we ignored in favor of passion ignited by the light of ten thousand fireflies. I was so annoyed with myself, but I have to admit that Pookie is Giamaco Casanova incarnated, and I never stood a chance against his continuous advances. I hate to break this to Pookie's new interest, but I feel strongly that Pookie and I are now expecting at least one dream baby. Who knows, maybe even twins. Hmmm ... I wonder if every expected dream baby comes with a "how to" book. Gosh, I hope so, cuz I don't know nuthin' bout birthin' no dream babies.
It probably didn't help that I was listening to some fanciful and dreamy music before drifting off to sleep. Have a listen. Who know, maybe you will score some dream babies of your own. Be careful though, even "dem dream babies is 'spensive ventures."
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Showing posts with label Dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dreams. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
If life were but a dream ...
It's early in the morning as I sit to write this, so what could I possibly have to blog about ... oh yeah, my mini vacation or last night's dream. Which would you like to hear about first? Oh sure, I ask as if I am going to come back and take a poll. Let me be honest, I'm nowhere near that patient, so I will roll with my morning whim.
I love it when I remember even slices of my dreams, and I struggle to hold onto the most interesting ones like others collect precious gemstones. The diamonds are few and far between, so when they drop from my subconscious, I quickly retreat back into the crevices of my sleepy mind ... trying to grab hold of the shiny bits which seem too eager to slip through my grasp. Sometimes, I can successfully pluck them from my techno colored dream world, if I am quick enough to turn them out onto the black and white. I groggily grabbed the first bit of paper I could find and got to scribbling.
I'm in the company of a large group of women, who are all dressed to the formal nines ... most are swimming in ribbons, bows, dainty hats, taffeta, chiffon, lace and beautiful shoes. Most everyone is seated at either one of two rows of long tables. Some ladies are milling about. All are happily chatting as they work on some sort of "wedding" project set before them on the tables. There is one lady to my immediate left who is clearly the leader of the project. I cannot for the life of me remember what the project was, all I know is that she was in charge and a bride was sitting near her. I was happily engaged in the scene before me, and I was simultaneously marveling at my own clothes. I kept thinking to myself ... where did I get this stunning dress that fits me like every dress should. And, my God, where did I get these shoes ... they are to die for. As I wrapped myself in this feeling of divinity, a man approached me ... wanting to know if he could join us. I immediately felt like I knew him, even though I could not recall his name. I welcomed him to the table and his eyes searched for an empty chair. I also looked down the table and spotted only a few open seats. Two at the very opposite end of the table, and one between the instructor and the bride. Smack in between them His eyes silently implored me to follow him .... so I did .... we stepped aside from all the happy activity, and he stopped short ... turning to me with his face inches away from mine. He bent down and whispered ... "I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?" I had no idea what he was sorry for, but I felt such a strong connection to him that I nodded my easy forgiveness. He then took my face in his hand and kissed me ... oh so gently, but with a demanding and purposeful linger. His non intrusive kiss took my breath and I unconsciously backed away from him ... acutely aware that we were under the surveillance of a thousand questioning eyes. He didn't seem to care, and immediately fell into step beside me as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He then asked ... "Is there cake? " To which I said ... "Is there cake? Oh yeah, there's cake," and I led him to a door which he opened. We stepped through the doorway into a room filled with tables and more people ... this time ... both men and women filled the dream ... all happily mingling. On the tables were cakes, cakes and more cakes. The most beautiful cakes I think I have ever seen were everywhere, as were small plates filled with some other scrumptious dessert that looked like it had been kissed by a key lime. This man who I seemed to know and who seemed to know me ... went forth and came back bearing cake. As he came walking back toward me, I was overcome with a great sense of knowing, but I wasn't sure what I knew. As I struggled to figure out what I so acutely knew, I heard an alarm ... and alarm which I unconsciously recognized as my alarm clock suggesting I get up so I could go to work. Hearing the second insistent chime, I was consumed with an urgent desire to hold onto the knowing feeling and the man who seemed to also know ... so I shuffled from the bed to the desk and got busy scribbling a loose version of that dreamy feeling.
And now, here I am, back to reality ... slightly mourning the loss of that dreamy dress, those fabulous shoes, that familiar man and that knowing feeling that held the promise of eternal bliss. Ahhh ... aren't some dreams so grand ... that they put reality to shame. The reality is that I'm still looking for that man, that dress, those shoes and that divine knowing.
House Rules: Any and all passersby, stalkers and the like, can post comments under "lurker comments." They will be screened for hexes, spells, foils, curses, foul smells and cooties before posting.
I love it when I remember even slices of my dreams, and I struggle to hold onto the most interesting ones like others collect precious gemstones. The diamonds are few and far between, so when they drop from my subconscious, I quickly retreat back into the crevices of my sleepy mind ... trying to grab hold of the shiny bits which seem too eager to slip through my grasp. Sometimes, I can successfully pluck them from my techno colored dream world, if I am quick enough to turn them out onto the black and white. I groggily grabbed the first bit of paper I could find and got to scribbling.
I'm in the company of a large group of women, who are all dressed to the formal nines ... most are swimming in ribbons, bows, dainty hats, taffeta, chiffon, lace and beautiful shoes. Most everyone is seated at either one of two rows of long tables. Some ladies are milling about. All are happily chatting as they work on some sort of "wedding" project set before them on the tables. There is one lady to my immediate left who is clearly the leader of the project. I cannot for the life of me remember what the project was, all I know is that she was in charge and a bride was sitting near her. I was happily engaged in the scene before me, and I was simultaneously marveling at my own clothes. I kept thinking to myself ... where did I get this stunning dress that fits me like every dress should. And, my God, where did I get these shoes ... they are to die for. As I wrapped myself in this feeling of divinity, a man approached me ... wanting to know if he could join us. I immediately felt like I knew him, even though I could not recall his name. I welcomed him to the table and his eyes searched for an empty chair. I also looked down the table and spotted only a few open seats. Two at the very opposite end of the table, and one between the instructor and the bride. Smack in between them His eyes silently implored me to follow him .... so I did .... we stepped aside from all the happy activity, and he stopped short ... turning to me with his face inches away from mine. He bent down and whispered ... "I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?" I had no idea what he was sorry for, but I felt such a strong connection to him that I nodded my easy forgiveness. He then took my face in his hand and kissed me ... oh so gently, but with a demanding and purposeful linger. His non intrusive kiss took my breath and I unconsciously backed away from him ... acutely aware that we were under the surveillance of a thousand questioning eyes. He didn't seem to care, and immediately fell into step beside me as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He then asked ... "Is there cake? " To which I said ... "Is there cake? Oh yeah, there's cake," and I led him to a door which he opened. We stepped through the doorway into a room filled with tables and more people ... this time ... both men and women filled the dream ... all happily mingling. On the tables were cakes, cakes and more cakes. The most beautiful cakes I think I have ever seen were everywhere, as were small plates filled with some other scrumptious dessert that looked like it had been kissed by a key lime. This man who I seemed to know and who seemed to know me ... went forth and came back bearing cake. As he came walking back toward me, I was overcome with a great sense of knowing, but I wasn't sure what I knew. As I struggled to figure out what I so acutely knew, I heard an alarm ... and alarm which I unconsciously recognized as my alarm clock suggesting I get up so I could go to work. Hearing the second insistent chime, I was consumed with an urgent desire to hold onto the knowing feeling and the man who seemed to also know ... so I shuffled from the bed to the desk and got busy scribbling a loose version of that dreamy feeling.
And now, here I am, back to reality ... slightly mourning the loss of that dreamy dress, those fabulous shoes, that familiar man and that knowing feeling that held the promise of eternal bliss. Ahhh ... aren't some dreams so grand ... that they put reality to shame. The reality is that I'm still looking for that man, that dress, those shoes and that divine knowing.
House Rules: Any and all passersby, stalkers and the like, can post comments under "lurker comments." They will be screened for hexes, spells, foils, curses, foul smells and cooties before posting.
Monday, May 24, 2010
A dream is but a dream ...
I like to believe that I am one put together chick. And, I know that in many ways I am. What I don’t like to admit to everyone, is that I have never ending pleas quietly gnawing at my soul. Long ago, I romanticized the dreams I have since accomplished, but I now feel like a tap rooted dandelion. Ever try to extract one of those from unforgiving dirt?
Over the last few years, I have been experiencing the collision of dreams past with those calling for their turn. It feels like a dream (those of the night time variety, not the goal kind of dream) I once had wherein I was set to marry two men on the same day. One man blonde, one man brunette, both tall and both handsome. Talk about a happy dilemma. I knew I couldn’t legally marry both of these men, and that I would have to choose, but I couldn’t choose ... I just couldn’t. They were both so PERFECT. Perfect with a big Ole P. So, what happens when you are happily stressed in a dream? The same thing that happens when you are being chased by a gnarly zombie with rotting flesh. You wake up and realize you are no longer about to be happily married to one of two gorgeous men or two of two gorgeous men.
Hmmm, maybe not an exact analogy, but close enough. I actually have two PERFECT dreams to choose from, but I can’t have both at the same time. And, I want both. It never ever occurred to me before, that my realized dream would one day be a foil to a new dream. Stand ready past and present ... future is spoiling for a fight.
House Rules: Any and all passersby, stalkers and the like, can post comments under "lurker comments." They will be screened for hexes, spells, foils, curses, foul smells and cooties before posting.
Over the last few years, I have been experiencing the collision of dreams past with those calling for their turn. It feels like a dream (those of the night time variety, not the goal kind of dream) I once had wherein I was set to marry two men on the same day. One man blonde, one man brunette, both tall and both handsome. Talk about a happy dilemma. I knew I couldn’t legally marry both of these men, and that I would have to choose, but I couldn’t choose ... I just couldn’t. They were both so PERFECT. Perfect with a big Ole P. So, what happens when you are happily stressed in a dream? The same thing that happens when you are being chased by a gnarly zombie with rotting flesh. You wake up and realize you are no longer about to be happily married to one of two gorgeous men or two of two gorgeous men.
Hmmm, maybe not an exact analogy, but close enough. I actually have two PERFECT dreams to choose from, but I can’t have both at the same time. And, I want both. It never ever occurred to me before, that my realized dream would one day be a foil to a new dream. Stand ready past and present ... future is spoiling for a fight.
House Rules: Any and all passersby, stalkers and the like, can post comments under "lurker comments." They will be screened for hexes, spells, foils, curses, foul smells and cooties before posting.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Dream it ... and make it go away
Last night, I had two dreams, and in both I was irate. Imagine that, me irate! Is it just me, or is a clear personality issue rearing its ugly head? Don't get all sanctimonious on me for Pete's sake. Instead, get busy recognizing that anger has a necessary, good and often productive place in this universe.
So anyways, I believe last night's dreams were manifestations of my yesterday wherein I first had to corral a non literal herd of cats, tangle with a mama's boy ego, and be smacked in the head by facebook. That facebook smack was likely the cause of the mama's boy interaction gone bad, but who can really know, they were all annoying works of relation.
Imagine dreaming that you are sleeping and being woken by the sound of voices, power tools, scrapers, etc. Being the curious homeowner and good neighbor that I usually am, I got up in my dream to go see what all the ruckus was about. Imagine my shock, when I realized a crew of guys were working on my house totally unsolicited. I ran outside and started screaming for them to stop. Having reached the edge of my yard, I looked back at my house in horror. They were painting my roof (HOT PINK), scraping away my very recent and existing paint job on the house's trim, and they were cutting away a corner of my house. The word livid does not do justice to what I was feeling. Smoke was coming out of my ears, and I wanted to physically hurt them, all of them. As they scattered like rodents under the verbiage of my wrath, only a thin veil of sanity inhabited my body. Instead of choking those men with my bare hands, I snapped their sunglasses which were laid about. Oh yeah, all of them, not just the expensive looking ones. SNAP! I believe I may have watched one too many episodes of HGTV's Curb Appeal (Block Party), and I have only watched one!
My second dream was of the EXB. Let's just say I was not, and am not happy with him, and I expressed my very real anger non judiciously in my dream. This dream is less vivid than the first, but I do remember screaming the words ... "YOU NEED TREATMENT!!!."
In the light of day, I realize I may be the one who needs treatment. The silent treatment.
House Rules: Any and all passersby, stalkers and the like, can post comments under "lurker comments." They will be screened for hexes, spells, foils, curses, foul smells and cooties before posting.
So anyways, I believe last night's dreams were manifestations of my yesterday wherein I first had to corral a non literal herd of cats, tangle with a mama's boy ego, and be smacked in the head by facebook. That facebook smack was likely the cause of the mama's boy interaction gone bad, but who can really know, they were all annoying works of relation.
Imagine dreaming that you are sleeping and being woken by the sound of voices, power tools, scrapers, etc. Being the curious homeowner and good neighbor that I usually am, I got up in my dream to go see what all the ruckus was about. Imagine my shock, when I realized a crew of guys were working on my house totally unsolicited. I ran outside and started screaming for them to stop. Having reached the edge of my yard, I looked back at my house in horror. They were painting my roof (HOT PINK), scraping away my very recent and existing paint job on the house's trim, and they were cutting away a corner of my house. The word livid does not do justice to what I was feeling. Smoke was coming out of my ears, and I wanted to physically hurt them, all of them. As they scattered like rodents under the verbiage of my wrath, only a thin veil of sanity inhabited my body. Instead of choking those men with my bare hands, I snapped their sunglasses which were laid about. Oh yeah, all of them, not just the expensive looking ones. SNAP! I believe I may have watched one too many episodes of HGTV's Curb Appeal (Block Party), and I have only watched one!
My second dream was of the EXB. Let's just say I was not, and am not happy with him, and I expressed my very real anger non judiciously in my dream. This dream is less vivid than the first, but I do remember screaming the words ... "YOU NEED TREATMENT!!!."
In the light of day, I realize I may be the one who needs treatment. The silent treatment.
House Rules: Any and all passersby, stalkers and the like, can post comments under "lurker comments." They will be screened for hexes, spells, foils, curses, foul smells and cooties before posting.
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