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.