Last night's dream 8/30/09

Last night I dreamt that Richard Burton and I were sitting in a bar chatting about the weather in Palm Springs. Richard was saying it was "...just too bloody hot for real like Daddy-o!" And I was defending the heat "...but it's a DRY heat, Dick! A DRY heat! Go live in Mississippi for a year!" And we were laughing and ordering more mojitos. Liz Taylor comes in. Not the current in-a-wheelchair Liz but the 1965 I'll-kick-your-ass-just-by-looking-at-you-with-my-violet-eyes Liz. She is wearing this knock-out wiggle dress with an award winning decoulage. She walks over, lights a cigarette and looks at me. The bartender comes over and she purrs to him, "Hello handsome. I'll have what their having..." He quickly whips up a mojito and presents it to Liz with a flourish. She takes a sip, whispers, "Oooooohhhh yummy!" and throws it in my face. "No one talks about the weather to Richard but me..." comes out of her like whip cream on a cake. I ask the barman for a napkin and wipe the mojito off my face. "Liz, you bitch!" I say delightedly. "Lucky for you my eyeliner is permanent or there would be true hell to pay...as it is, I'm just going to knock your block off..." and I punch her in the nose. She goes down like a sack. Richard Burton stands up shocked and heads towards me. I warn him, "You really don't want to get into it with me Dickie boy...my MOTHER used to be called "Spitfire" on the elementary school playground..." He backs away slowly and goes to Liz and helps her up. She spits out, "You're lucky Night....lucky your sister is standing behind you!" I whip around and sure enough there is my little sister only she's not her current age either but about 6 years old with missing front teeth and shit and she's got her fists up. "Mess with my Sister, mess with me..." she hisses. Liz's face displays fear and dismay. Richard Burton helps her stumble out of the bar. I turn to my sister and we give each other the high 5. Then she sits down and orders a glass of milk. She turns to me and says, "Get ready...I just saw Barbara Streisand heading this way..."

Last night's dream 8/26/09

Last night I dreamt that I owned a cherry red 1961 Cadillac. The fins were so sharp that I often cut myself on them as I strolled past. I was wearing a black corset, a black corset skirt, black corset stockings, and black corset stiletto heels. Even my clutch had a little corset panel that I could cinch, when the need arose. I pulled up in front of a coffee house and peered through the window. There was a huge danish case at the front and there were all sorts of dangers displayed within. I opened the door and the bell attached to it jangled. Santa came out from the back room and laughed his signature "Ho, ho, ho!" as his belly shook. Then he said, "May I help you? No, wait! I remember what you said you wanted the last time you sat on my lap!" He produced a little box in Christmas wrap with a green and red bow. I took the package with some trepidation. I couldn't remember the last time I had sat on Santa's lap and I was really quite afraid that my tastes had changed since then. I sat at a little Parisian style cafe table and slowly began to open the festively wrapped package. Santa called over, "Here's your latte Little E!" I got up and realized I was now 7 years old. It felt pretty funny to be wearing a complete dominatrix outfit since I was now a little girl. I skipped over to the counter and said, "Santa! I can't drink coffee. I'm just a little girl again!" And Santa, looking just a tad miffed, said, "Fine!" with quite a bit of attitude, then he recovered his jocularity and went on..."Fine, fine, fine. I'll drink this and we'll get you a little cocoa!" He turned his back to me and I saw him take out a flask and pour something into what was now his latte. He started to heat some milk on the stove for the cocoa and I said nervously, "Um...Santa...would it be alright if I just had hot milk? I really don't like cocoa very much." His back tensed and I grew frightened. Just as he was about to whirl around and I'm sure smack me in the head, a series of elves came into the cafe from the back room. They were singing and laughing and slapping each other's backs and generally exuding fun and lightheartedness. They stopped in their tracks when they saw the tableau in front of them. The first elf exploded with a "Hey ho, SANTA!!!! How's it hangin' Bossman?!?!" The other elves, taking their cue from the first, scurried over to Santa and began to pepper him with questions and comments. Distracted Santa deflated, his anger forgotten. The first elf came over to me, he was now a miniature Brad Pitt and I had turned into Cinderella. He said, "Hey, Little E! Are you okay?" And I said, "I really didn't like Inglorious Basterds but you were awesome in Thelma and Louise...funny, you were kind of a bastard in Thelma and Louise and..." He said, "Hey, hey, hey...Let's not go down that road!" as he placed his hand gently on my lips. Then he gave me an Indian rope burn on my arm and ran away. I was rubbing my arm with tears in my eyes (it hurt that much!) when I noticed the unopened present on the table. I went over to it and opened it. Inside was a snow globe. Inside the globe was my 1961 Cadillac with a little tiny grown up me at the wheel. I had a doughnut in one hand and a little latte in the other and a black scarf around my head to protect my bouffant from the wind. The scarf fluttered engagingly behind me. I was smiling and The Slits were playing on the radio. I turned the snow globe over and back and the snow wafted through the air and settled gently on me and the car. I was enthralled. I thought, "Wow! I asked Santa for this the last time I sat on his lap. Amazing!" I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror behind the display case. I wasn't Cinderella anymore. I wasn't 7. I wasn't in a dominatrix outfit. Instead I was in a pair of white underpants and my old Microsoft T-shirt. The one that really should be thrown out but will never be because it keeps getting more and more comfortable the more it disintegrates around me. And I thought, "That's it!" The elves, my bouffant, the pastries, Brad Pitt, the Slits, the snow globe, the red and green bow, the caddy, the corsets, Santa, the t-shirt, even the hot milk! That's it!"
And then I woke up.

Last night's dream 8/25/09

Last night I dreamt I was the owner of an adult bib clothing line. I had a trendy line of bibs that were black and chain encrusted, and the clasp was a beefy lock with a somewhat rusty key. I had a Laura Ashley-esque line with small cabbage roses and delicate lace that tied behind the neck. I had an elegant line for when you were going out to the real posh restaurants. They were all silk velvet with sterling silver clasps. I had a drag queen line-covered with sequins and jewels, dipping low in the front, some lit up. These all came with a matching wig. I had a conservative line of pinstriped wool bibs and a line of men's work bibs of denim. There were specialty bibs as well for weddings, funerals,and birthdays. I also created custom celebrity bibs. Bruce Willis ordered some "Eat Hard" and "Eat Harder" bibs, Quentin Tarantino ordered some "blood" spattered bibs with the names of all his movies embrodered along the edges, Dolly Parton ordered "left" and "right" bibs, and several celebrities ordered custom bibs that must remain confidential. I was doing pretty good. The bib business was a success. I even had a call from Facebook, they wanted to buy me out. But the bib business was my baby. My little cottage industry, making bibs at my dining table at night, had blossomed into a multi-million dollar affair. I was sending hundreds of bibs to relief agencies in Africa and Asia. There I found out that in Bangladesh the bibs were being sewn together into quilts and so I hired the small village that had come up with the idea and started a "Home" line. Hip Hop stars were buying my bibbypant, Angelina Jolie purchased several of my bibbycaps for all her kids and a half dozen extras for the kids she had planned. I thought it was over the top when a key advisor suggested bibbyshoes but I took the gamble anyway and when Britney wore a pair on the stage the sales skyrocketed overnight. The market was flooded with Bibs and Bib-related merchandise. I couldn't go out of the house without a big on or the magazines went beserk with speculation. When Michelle called me personally for advice on what to wear to a state dinner I was thunderstruck. I was at the top of my game. Bibs were all the rage on the Paris Runway. Everyone had to have one, no, not one, but many. You just couldn't own too many bibs or bib-related products. Now there was a jewelry line that attached to the bibs, bibbybags, babybibbys, petbibbys, bibs for the car, the boat, the private jet. It was a bib-a-licious extravaganza! The bib business was booming! That's when the scandal broke.

Last night's dream 8/24/09

Last night I dreamt that Rosebud and Nigel were wrestling on the living room floor. There was the usual biting and batting and then Rosebud started quoting lines from Tombstone, in particular the bar scene where Wyatt Earp tells Johnny Tyler to "throw down"...I came in on the middle of it.
Nigel: You run your mouth awful reckless for a cat that don't go heeled.
Rosebud: No need to go heeled to get the bulge on a tub like you. You skin that smoke wagon and we'll see what happens!
Nigel: Listen Missy, I'm getting awfully tired of your...(Rosebud smacks him in the head with her paw)
Rosebud: I'm gettin' tired of all your gas, now jerk that pistol and go to work!
Nigel looks around for a pistol: What's a pistol? (he whispers to Rosebud)
Rosebud: [slaps him harder, now completely steely-eyed] I said throw down, boy!
Nigel: MOM! Rosebud's hittin' me!
Rosebud: Are you going to do something or just stand there and bleed?
Then Rosebud turns to me flops over on her side and sticks her tongue out. I go over and pat her belly.
Rosebud: Mom, can I get some chaps?
Me: Uh...sure...uh...do they make kitty chaps?
Rosebud: Well if they don't they sure should! And a hat. I'll be needing a cowkitty hat.
Me: Oh....kay....
Nigel: Mom, I want a pistol! I HAVE to have a pistol! Can I? Can I Mom? Can I have a pistol?!?!? PLLLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Me: What are you going to do with a gun?
Nigel: I'm going to skin that smoke wagon and...GUN?!?!?!
Me: A pistol is a gun honey.
Nigel: Oh no man. I don't want a gun. I'm a peacenik! Rosebud I'm tired of playing Tombstone, can we play HAIR again?
Rosebud sighs, looks at young Nigel and says indulgently: Sure pal, sure. We can play HAIR but I get to be Claude this time.
Nigel leaps up onto the back of the couch raises up on his hind legs and bellows: When the moooooooonnnnnnn, is in the 7th house...
Rosebud leaps up knocking him off the back of the couch and slams a paw into his neck pinning him to the floor. She snarls, "You talkin' to me?..."

Last night's dream 8/22/09

I dreamt I was getting married today. My Mom was there with me and as we looked out the window the parking lot of the church next door was full of crap. They were having a rummage sale. I turned to my Mom and said, "We have time, before this other thing, right?!?" And we both hoofed it outa there and headed for the sale. I bought a footstool in the shape of a camel. Years passed. The marriage ended. The footstool stayed until it, too, succummed to lack of interest.

Last night's dream 8/21/09

Last night I dreamt that I was riding a horse near the ocean smoking a cigar. I was holding a velvet gun. Suddenly a covey of doves lifted off from the beach and disappeared into the sky. The horse became agitated by the birds and threw me knocking the cigar out of my mouth and flinging me into the surf. I sputtered and spewed salt water out my nose. The velvet gun came down out of the sky and conked me on the head. I woke up craving a cigarette.

Last night's dream 8/20/09

I dreamt that it was my birthday and there was a big party in an airport. Guests kept moving the big long lines of seats to try to make some cozy little seating arrangements but it just wasn't working since the seats were all attached. I was nervous that we would get kicked out. In between all the birthday wishes and singing the loudspeaker would come on announcing flight arrivals and departures. Some friends, who I did not recognize but who obviously knew me by the way they were manhandling me, led me over to a table heaped with gaily wrapped presents. I opened the first one and it was a gerbil. I opened the second one and it was a suitcase for the gerbil...not to put the gerbil in but for the gerbil's clothing and accessories. Which were what I found in the next few presents that I opened. Then I got an Elton John CD, a blond wig, some tampons, a digital camera, a jumbo pack of lint removers, a magazine subscription to some Italian home appliance magazine, and a bright orange fondue set from the 70's along with some string cheese. As I was thanking everyone profusely there was a scuffle at the back of the crowd. "String cheese?!?! You IDIOT! String cheese doesn't MELT. How the hell will she use THAT in the fondue?!?!?" Sneered one guest to another. The other just looked at the first guest and made a scrunched up "neener neener" face. That's when the first guest pushed the second guest and then the second guest pushed the first back. Before I knew it the crowd was yelling, "Fisticuffs! Fisticuffs! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fisticuffs! Fisticuffs! Fight! Fight! Fight!" I grabbed my new gerbil and his little suitcase and ran and hid behind the customer service counter for Gate 13 thinking at the time, "Hey, gate 13 and I was born on the 31st! What a coincidence! Well, it's not actually the same number...so is it still a coincidence or really nothing?" Then I huddled there while complete mayhem took place. Finally there was silence. I slunk out of hiding with my new gerbil under my arm. He bit me harshly on the inside of my arm so I yelped like a school girl and dropped him. He grabbed his little suitcase and scurried away towards Gates 70 and Above. All my guests were either laying on the floor or draped across the connected seats. Some had blood on their bodies and clothing. No one looked like they were seriously injured. I walked over to the "Pay a buck and get a cart" carts and paid a buck. I loaded the cart with all my presents ruing my new gerbil for gnawing his way into my heart and then deserting me for his own adventure. "We could've gone on trips TOGETHER..." I mused. The next morning I got an email requesting the return of the fondue set.

Last night's dream 8/19/09

Last night I dreamt I was at a Tom Jones concert back in the 60's. He is on stage singing "It's Not Unusual" and all the women are throwing their panties onto the stage. I check and I see that I am not wearing panties. So I throw Nigel at Tom. He catches him and uses him to wipe the sweat from his brow. All the time he's singing "It's Not Unusual" and I'm thinking how it is.

Last night's dream 8/18/09

Last night I dreamt that Rosebud and Nigel were getting ready for school. It was the usual frantic morning. Nigel was eating his turkey and giblets in gravy and Rosebud was just staring sullenly at her bowl, then she jumped up on top of the espresso machine and laid down. I was like, "Hey! Hey! Hey! Come on! Get ready! You are NOT missing that bus again! I am NOT driving you to school this morning!" and Rosebud was like, "Uh...yeah...Mom. Whatever." And Nigel was a sow at a trough going at that turkey and giblets in gravy. I abandoned my attempt at a cup of coffee because it was obvious that Rosebud and Nigel were going to miss the bus. "Where's your homework?" "The dog ate it." Nigel replied and laughed so hard he knocked himself over. Since he was already on his side he decided it was a good time to lick his private parts. "Nigel! Stop! You can do that tonight! Rosebud, Nigel did you wash your face and hands this morning?" Dead silence and then little tongues licked little paws and swiped several times across little faces. "Did you both poop?" "Yes, Mom!" "Yes, Mom." "IN the box?!?!" "Oh Mother! I've NEVER pooped outside the box...and that inappropriate urination phase ended years ago! Must you constantly bring it up?!?!?" "Alright, alright. You are right. You've been a good girl for a long time now and I shouldn't..." Just then Rosebud strolled away to the far side of the living room and began to regurgitate on the very expensive silk carpet from China. "Rosebud!" I yelped and dove for her. I grabbed her and moved her to the formica. "Okay..." And she proceeded to bring back up a little chicken and liver pate. "What the...?" I asked puzzled. "Rosebud, we haven't had chicken and liver pate for THREE days!" Rosebud gives me this "didn't-know-just-how-special-I-am-did-you?" look and starts to gather her books together for school. As they are heading out the door I snatch the catnip mouse from Nigel's backpack and try to hand each a few bucks..."Lunch money you two..." Rosebud is already on her cell phone to the Dalmation down the street and rolls her eyes at the money. "Yeah, right...like I'm going to eat LUNCH." she smirks. Nigel looks at me beseechingly and I hand over all the money I have so that he can get a proper Nigel sized lunch.

Last night's dream 8/16/09

Last night I dreamt I was on stage with Kelly Clarkson. She was belting out Stairway to Heaven and I was playing the bass and I forgot the notes. I was standing there in front of a stadium full of people. So full that people just looked like little dots of color, like confetti. A sea of moving confetti whistling and clapping and yelling, "I LOVE YOU KELLY!" over and over. I plucked at a few strings like I knew what I was doing. The song came to an end after 7 minutes and 46 seconds and Kelly shot me a death look and as she stormed off the stage she flipped me the bird. I unplugged my bass and slunk meekly off the stage trying to prepare for the ass-whipping Kelly was sure to give me. When I got backstage there was a big party going on and Kelly was in the center of it all! She was drinking champagne and eating what looked like cocktail wienies wrapped in Pillsbury dough. I thought, "Flaky crust!" and headed for the dressing room that the backup band shared. As I was walking past the drummer she grabbed me and pulled me next to her. "And this B-autch!" she crowed, "FORGETS the bass line for Stairway!" and she shrieks with laughter. I chuckle a bit too and shake my head. Then I punch her in the face and stand there chuckling a bit more and shaking my head a little bit more too for effect. Everyone is stunned for about 4 seconds and then the little group that had been our audience erupts into shocked and delighted laughter. I think, "What has our society become? What have I BECOME?" Then I punch the face of the guy nearest me and turn to storm off with what I hope is dramatic dignity. As I turn and lift my right foot to start the storm, my foot in mid stride, knee raised, shoulder starting to dip, I freeze. There stands Kelly. Blocking my dramatic exit. Deflating my dignity. Taking the wind out of the sails of my storm. My mouth hangs open. I raise a hand...as if to say...but nothing comes to mind. I am frozen in the amber of Kelly's death stare. Through gritted teeth she smears out murderously, "I. Should. Fire. You. You. $@*(@. Lazy. Cockroach." I remain suspended like some horror movie puppet girl. "I. Should. Fire. You." she venomously seethes her mouth still clenched shut much like my butt happens to be. "I. Should. But...." and there is a pause of nearly 15 seconds. Time for most of the crowd to grow extremely uncomfortable, although, for me it was only just beginning to feel like an accurate amount of time to instill the proper sense of impending hope and doom. "Oh, what the heck!" She squeals all bubblegum and lip gloss, "We ALL make mistakes! Now you learn that darned bass line, you rascal!" she continues in that teen pop slightly creepy upbeat poppy pop star way. "Where's the champagne and pork rinds?" she yips and she's off. The crowd flows after her like rats after that Pied guy. I reach into my back pocket and pull out a music score and start humming in earnest.

Last night's dream 8/8/09

Last night I dreamt that I was in a hat store and I was trying on all of these wonderful hats. Big blue hats with fluffy cloudlike ornaments and tall black masculine hats of silk and leather bits and yellow swirly hats of gears and springs. All colors, all shapes. They all looked really good on me but every time I tried on a hat my head would get one size smaller. I didn't notice it at first and that proved to be a big mistake. By the time I did realize that something wasn't quite right my head was about three sizes smaller than my body. I wondered if my head would always be so small or if, over time, it might return to normal size. I decided to hightail it out of there, but just as I reached the door I saw the shoe section!

Last night's dream 8/7/09

Last night I dreamt Rosebud was 16 and was going out on her first serious date. It was with the Dalmation from down the street. She comes out of her bedroom with a red sweater on with rhinestones spelling out the word "Bitch".
"WHERE did you get that?!?!?" I shrieked.
"Oh Mother!" Rosebud sighed bored.
"No! NO, NO, NO and that would be N-O! You are not wearing that in public!" I declared.
"Mooooommmmm! Come on! All the Cornish are wearing them! Didn't you see the cover of Vogue this month?!?!? It's a whole spread of Mariah Carey at home with her Cornish and BOTH of hers are wearing "Bitch" sweaters. They're super cool!" She whined.
"Honey," I replied, "They are slutty...Don't be slutty."
"I DON'T look slutty!" she shouted, then paused. "Do I look slutty?!?!?" she worried.
"The red is really good with your skin tone...how about that other red sweater I got you?" I suggested.
"Oh that one...I clawed that up AGES ago..."
"Well, how about the blue?"
"Threw up on that last night..."
"There's the leopard print one...?"
"Clashes with my calico." She determined.
"How about the cream one with black trim?"
"Oh Mom," she scolded, "That one says, "Save a stray and get a spay!" Please!"
We both paused, thinking.
"Mom...maybe we could go...you know....shopping..."
"Oh Rosebud, you know we are on a tight budget right now..." I started but the look on her face stopped me..."Ok, we can go...but sale rack only!" I declared.
She came over and gave me a little bite on the elbow.

last night's dream 8/5/09

Last night I dreamt I was wearing a dress consisting entirely of hovering hummingbirds. It was awfully pretty but the noise was distracting and every time I walked past a flowering plant there was the potential for mass exodus. The tension was palpable.

Last night's dream 8/4/09

Last night I dreamt that I was driving down I-5 in a flesh colored 1960 cadillac. I had on big white sunglasses and a blue scarf tied around my head to protect my hairdo. I had red red red lipstick on and was smiling recklessly at nothing. Sheryl Crow was rocking on the radio. I had a bag of Ruffles in my lap and was snacking occasionally from the bag and licking my fingers so the wheel wouldn't get greasy. I had a bottle of club soda and I was having a tough time opening and closing the bottle between slugs. I was very concerned about losing the fizz. I thought, "Why doesn't club soda taste like regular water when it loses it's fizz? It tastes like...something else...a not very pleasant something else." Then I let the matter drop and hummed along with Cheryl. I passed a chicken along the side of the road and laughed my ass off. I glanced into the rearview mirror and was chagrined to see a baby laying on the back seat. A butt naked slightly glowing baby. And I thought, "Oh great! I'm transporting an angel baby...am I speeding?!? I can't get pulled over transporting an angel baby! Man, I'd be in some serious trouble if I was found with this angel baby....how the heck did I get an angel baby anyway???" Then I returned to the chip bag to munch and ponder. And that's when I breezed right through the red light. So, of course, there's a cop on a motorcycle adn he appears from nowhere (how do they do that?!?!?) and he's giving me the "pull over lady" sign and I'm trying to figure out how to hide the angel baby fast! So I dump the bag of chips on the floor and kick all the chips under the seat and stomp on them so I end up with just chip dust and then I reach behind me and stuff the angel baby gently into the chip bag and then I reach into the glove box and there is a chip bag resealer device in there and I reseal the chip bag and toss the bag gently into the seat behind me and then I pull over.
"Is there a problem officer?" I ask pulling out my lipstick and giving myself a little freshening up as I hand him my license and registration. Just as he's taking them from my hand I realize that the license I'm handing him is not my license but what appears to be a young Asian man's license and that the registration is not for the car but for my espresso machine instead. "Oh boy!" I think and my hand shakes a little and I smear my red red red lipstick just a bit. Suddenly Cheryl stops singing and a voice says, "This is a special announcement from the government of the Universe! This is a special announcement from the government of the Universe! Grab the nearest person and do-si-do!" And I think, "Oh for heaven's sake! Not now!" The cop opens the door and offers his hand and I pop out and we do-si-do on I-5. I look around and everyone is do-si-do-ing. The cop says, "Ain't it a beautiful world, Ma'am?" And I agree but what I'm really thinking is "How long can an angel baby breathe in a sealed chip bag?" As I am doing the rudimentary calculations in my head the song ends and the cop puts me back in my cadillac, tips his helmet, and wishes me a good day. I rip open the chip bag and pull out the angel baby dusting off all the chip dander from it's glowing skin. I tuck the chip baby next to me and buckle us both up, then I crank up Cheryl on the radio and head back down the road. Pretty soon I see one of those weigh station signs and there is a small orange sign tacked to the bottom of it saying, "Angel Baby drop off point". A huge sigh of relief busts out of me and I flip the blinker and slow the caddy down. I didn't have the proper paperwork and it took FOREVER to drop off the angel baby but in the end it all worked out okay (it was a bitch trying to explain away why there was chip dust between the angel babies toes...who knew the inspection would be that detailed?!?!)and I was finally able to get back to the open road. I was just thinking about hitting a Cracker Barrel when I happened to glance once again into the rearview mirror to find a little devil baby laying butt naked on the seat glowing back at me.

Last night's dream 8/3/09

Last night I dreamt that I was in a high-end shoe store. I was trying on Jimmy Choo's and Manolo's and the like. Nothing was fitting right and I was getting chisky. The clerk knew he was losing a sale so he turns to me and says, "Wait right here Ma'am...I have something special in the back that I think will be perfect for you." So I wait and I pick up shoes and plunk them back down. I see my reflection in a mirror and realize my face is all scrunched up with dissatisfaction. I unscrunch it and try to remain optomistic. The clerk returns with two shoes boxes. He sets them on the floor and guides me to a chair in front of the boxes. I sit. He kneels down and opens both boxes at the same time with a theatrical flourish. Inside each box is a bunny. One box has a black bunny sitting on white tissue and the other box has a white bunny sitting on black tissue. "Now these babies!, he crows, "These babies are you!"

Last night's dream 8/2/09

Last night I dreamt I was in the woods. It was dawn. It was cold. There was frost on the ground. I had on a hunter's jacket, pants, and one of those hats with flaps--all in that mottled army fabric so I was hard to see. But on my feet I had on a pair of Manolo Blahnik shoes. They were getting ruined in the mud and effluvia of the woods. Suddenly I heard movement to my left and spun around losing my balance and crashing to the ground. My gun went off and I screamed like a little girl. Out of the woods came a little man about a foot tall with a pointy hat on his head. “Ooooohhhh, a mighty hunter!” He squealed in mock alarm. I sat up and stared. “Got any jellybeans?” He asked. “N…no.” I stammered. “I have some kind of power bar thing…” I murmured. “A what?” he asked. “Some healthy crap.” I explained. “Well, that won’t do. Fire your gun again.” He commanded. “W…..what?” I stammered. “Good gravy woman! Fire your #@#&* GUN!” He yelled. I stood up, pointed the gun at the air and fired. Thousands of jellybeans fell from the sky littering the floor of the forest with color. There was a rustling in the undergrowth and suddenly hundreds of little one foot tall men and women and half foot tall children came out of hiding and began retrieving the beans. I fell back on my ass and sat in silence watching the collection process. “Close your mouth honey.” the little man said gently. I closed my mouth. “I….I….don’t….understand….” I finally spit out. “Everything in life isn’t supposed to be understood Pumpkin,” he said, “Some things are just to be enjoyed.” The collection process ended and the little people disappeared into the forest each giving a friendly wave and a nod. I stood up and grabbed my gun and began walking away. Something hit the top of my head and after recovering from what I was pretty sure was a coronary, I looked down to see a watermelon flavored jellybean laying at my feet.

Last night's dream 8/1/09

Last night I dreamt I was cooking. I had a pot of water on the stove with the flame turned to high waiting for it to boil. I put the lid on the pot to hurry the process along and then I went to get dressed as I realized I was only wearing an apron! I put on a 1950's cocktail dress that was black and lime green with red rhinestones all over it. I put on some stockings and a really beautiful pair of shoes that were black and lime green with red rhinestones all over them! Then I put the apron back on (it's covered with cats) and went back to the stove. I lifted the lid and the water was boiling and all the little boil bubbles turned into little cartoon faces and they started singing "My Girl". And at each of the "My girl!" repeats some of the bubbles would pop dramatically. I was giggling like a school girl and hoping that they'd sing more when the guests arrived when suddenly the water quit boiling and became totally flat like a mirror. Like an idiot I stuck my finger into it to see if it was still a liquid and burned my finger. I left the stove and ran for the aloe vera gel. Once I had gelled and bandaged my finger I went back to the pot. Now there was vegetables and meat in the pot and all the ingredients had paired off and were waltzing around the bottom of the pot which was now the size of a small ballroom. I had grown big black crow's wings and descended down to the bottom of the pot, aka the dance floor. There a big chunk of stew meat grabbed my arm and spun me around and around. The song ended and before I could get away a carrot yanked me forward and cha cha'ed me across the floor. We made small talk but it was very strained. Once again, when the song ended I tried to get away only to be accosted by a walla walla onion that pulled me a little too close for comfort and began a racy salsa with me. Luckily my stew meat partner cut in and we tangoed around for a moment or two before I was able to make excuses and leave the dance floor/bottom of the pot. I unfurled my wings and flew back up out of the pot and found myself back in the kitchen staring down at the pot. Once again it was filled with boiling water. The water refused to sing. The doorbell rang and I went to greet my guests.