Dream Log: December 6, 2000

One dream in two parts...

1. My friend and I were fighting. Our punches were weak and ineffectual; being unable to hurt him was frustrating. We were not forming decent fists (my thumbs alternated between curled up inside my fingers (making me worried about breaking them) and stuck out like I was hitch-hiking). Eventually I was able to land a decent punch on his chest and wind him quite badly. He looked really hurt and disappointed: by hitting him properly I'd let him down somehow.

2. There was a strange man - with long curly hair and glasses - in my house. He was threatening me. As he walked up the staircase towards me it became obvious that he was going to punch me! I was both relieved and amused that his punches were as weak as mine had been earlier.

+ / -

i am backstage at a concert (my concert..?) with two people, one brunette and one blonde. the blonde was a guy, i think... the brunette, i'm not sure. we discuss briefly how hard it is on the road sometimes. the blonde guy puts his foot up on an amp and drinks a beer.

...

i've snorted coke, and i'm wandering around aimlessly, wondering why i did this. craig's on e. that's why i did it. he did all our ecstasy so he gave me coke, and i hate it. when will i come down?

I was just starting to dream when I was awakened by a thwack on my head. My wife had smacked me, and was sitting up in the bed looking at me with that "you asshole" look.

I was irritated at first as I ran back through the day to see what I could have done that would have upset her enough to play bongos on my noggin. She just continued to sit there, glaring at me. "Don't think I didn't know what you were just doing," she finally squeezed out from between clenched teeth.

As far as I could tell, the only thing I was about to do was have another Milla Jovovich dream, which explained my irritability. "No, I don't even know what I was about to do, so could you explain it and why you thumped me?"

"I saw you two!" she hissed.

Now, sometimes it almost seems that we can read each other's mind. We finish each other's sentences, which weirds out our oldest daughter. We have her convinced that humans have latent psychic abilities that bloom when you are 18, which is why we always know what she's been up to. But the only thing I could guess was that my Milla dreams had leaked over into her brain. It turned out I was close.

Apparently I was at a lavish party with my wife and a bunch of people she knew. The host of the party was (and I have no idea why this is) Paula Abdul. They were best friends, and Paula made a bet that she could get me in bed that night. My wife said no way. Paula then flashed me sans underwear right in front of my wife, and I grinned like a big drooling fool.

About an hour later, my wife caught me and Paula wrapped around each other in some dreamy white bedroom, fucking like crazed weasels. My wife stood there stunned for about half an hour as I tossed Paula into position after position.

That was the point where she woke up and thumped me.

I spent the next ten minutes explaining that Paula Abdul could never get between us (and it sounded sillier when I was saying this to her). I calmed her down, and she apologized for smacking me. I told her it was just a dream, and not to pay it any heed.

I never mentioned my rendezvous with Milla Jovovich in my dreams.

Truffles, truffles and more truffles!

Real Life: Last night my mom made pasta with truffle oil and parmesan cheese at the prodding of my boy and myself; we had seen Emeril do it two days ago. Much truffle conversation ensued.

Dream: We want to make pasta with truffles, but we only have truffle oil. I'm rehersing for a play in a dream-version of my high school. There are many more water-slides than at my actual high school. There is also a cheerleading squad, which my single-sex school didn't have. Absolutely no progress can be made with either the cheers or the play until we have some truffles for the pasta. My mom reveals to me that she has been secretly hiding one black truffle in her cupboard for over a year. She gives it to me, but it is all shriveled, and I doubt if my director or the girls with blonde pig-tails will accept it. I slice off a small piece of skin and it bleeds like a beet. It smells sour. Everyone is gathered around me watching me appraise the truffle and bat away pigs. I decide that it has fermented, but, never fear! everyone knows that truffles ferment into vinegar. I call for some vinegar, red wine, not balsamic. I cut the truffle into it and assure everyone that after the truffle is properly absorbed by the vinegar, we can make truffle vinegrette for our meal and everything will be okay. They accept that, and everyone resumes practicing.I am relieved.
Highly prefferable to the night before's dream: Dream Log: December 5, 2000.

In real life, I fell asleep to the album Ladies of the Canyon, by Joni Mitchell. I had never heard it before, and it was pretty good.

Then, in my dream, I was at a Joni Mitchell concert. It was in a circus tent. I was there with a bunch of juniors from my school (I'm a senior), and I was wearing rollerblades. Joni Mitchell was great, but the words to her songs were sort of unintelligible, and I wanted to be able to see her lips moving and make them out. So I rollerbladed up to the stage and climbed on, and sat on a stool in a corner watching and listening to Joni. One of the juniors, who I went to elementary school with, went up to the stage too, but she lost interest and went back to the others. Like I said, the concert was in a circus tent, and the backup singer was some sort of clown. There was also a little girl with blond hair wearing a jumpsuit...maybe she was juggling?

Joni noticed me sitting there and she brought me a trampoline- I would get to be a part of the act. So I was jumping on it, in my rollerblades. And the little girl thought this was a fun idea. She jumped into my arms, but the impact threw me forward (strange, because it should have thrown me backward).

The music stopped. Joni gasped. I flew off of the trampoline, with the girl still in my arms. But I landed on my feet. I rolled upstage, but I was able to bring myself to a stop by crouching and making a wedge with my feet.

The End.

I was in a wave pool. Well over 100 people in it. We were all on one side of the pool with black tubes. At the other end of the pool was a single red tube. A man standing on a diving board next to us fired a gun and we all swam to the other side. The point was to get to the red tube and take it to our original spot. All of a sudden, a small 10 year old boy, some redneck, and I were carrying the tube to the finish line. The water in the pool disappeared. We had won. Everyone is now out of the pool and they're handing out the prizes. We got pencils. Then as everyone evacuates the building, they are all handed nicer pencils. I shrugged and then woke up.