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These Dreams...
Feb. 5th, 2013 01:48 pmOriginally, I had written this as a text message for Chris, but after 15 pages, my phone refused to allow me to write any more. So, here it is, last night's dream.... (FYI: the "you" is Chris):
Awake, but barely. Had a series of strange dreams, but some were funny. One involved us going to [a good friend's] house, where we (the two of us, our kids, [the good friend], his wife and their two kids) all played with Play-Doh and colored with crayons. We went home (to a different house), and you and the boys went into the basement. I followed--to do laundry--and saw you had set up the area to practice derby car racing, with a blue track shaped like a puzzle maze, a dry-erase board with things to remember, and car parts spread about, ready to assemble.
I went upstairs, and found a man standing in our dining area--and he was nearly dead. He wasn't a flesh-eating zombie, merely sort-of dead. I was on the alert, and grabbed one of Chris' swords off the wall. The man begged me not to cut off all of his extremities, so I cut off his left leg, and both arms. He didn't bleed, but chuckled, and said he'd have a difficult time getting around. I joked he'd now be the that busy one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest that everyone jokes about. I left him laying on the floor, chuckling, put the sword back, and you came upstairs. We started fooling around, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alex peeking through the basement door at us. I grabbed your hand and dragged you upstairs, where we had our way with each other.
Just as the moment was over, my mother comes into the house with my brother, so I hurried into the shower. I remembered to take off all of my clothes, except my socks and a dozen Mardi Gras beads around my neck. Just as I get the water over my head, the bathroom door opens, and my mom and brother are in the doorway. I grabbed the shower curtain and shriek at them. My mom tells me I have a phone call from a man named Linwood. I grab a towel, wrap it around me, step out of the shower, and go into the kitchen to answer the phone.
The man on the other end begins asking questions about Slut-Bitch**; it's her father--or grandfather, I couldn't tell. He said he hadn't seen her in a long time and wanted to know how she was doing. I responded that I had not seen her, either--not since we lived with her in 1999. I went on, saying she had been a kind-of whore who slept with all kinds of guys, threw herself at you, and hated you for rejecting her, tried to turn me against you, and liked to take our portion of the rent money and not pay the bills. He was sad to hear all of this, and I felt a little twinge of guilt for telling such a story, but then he asked me about Froot Loops. I laughed, because I had a sealed cup of Froot Loops in my hand at that precise moment.
When I hung up, I got dressed, and walked out to the highway, where a walk/run was taking place on Route 13 (southbound). It was called "Lucky 13", and was a 13 miles long race. Everyone who wanted to participate needed to register and get their bibs at the tables set up at the traffic intersection near the Farmer's Market. It was a beautiful warm, day and the sun was starting to set. We were standing in the road near the airport's water fountains; people were milling about stretching, jogging in place, on bikes and scooters, with strollers, or just walking briskly. You were on your bike, encouraging me to jog, but when we reached the intersection where registration was, I realized I had not registered, and shouldn't be participating, so left.
From there, you wanted to take the kids and I for a drive, so we all bundled up and went on our way. We took my car down an unfamiliar road which was full of hills, dome buildings, and green grass/trees. You discovered you could take your keys out of my car's ignition and it would still run while your foot was on the gas pedal; stop, and it would shut off. We came to a stop sign, and you had to restart the car, then made a right turn, and there were waterfalls everywhere! You joked that you should have brought your swimming trunks.
The road seemed to become a stream, and it appeared we'd drive over a waterfall, and I wanted you to turn around but it was impossible. We started to go over the edge, but it turned into a road leading to a parking lot, and we were suddenly face-to-face with a dozen school buses coming up the hill! They veered off to the right, circling around, and we slid down the hill, and came to rest at the bottom. The line of buses came back around and passed us by, going up the hill and disappearing from sight. We drove around the parking lot and chose to drive out, using a road called Seneca Avenue. It was then that the alarm went off, and I woke up.
I can't figure out what *all* of this means, but the 12 buses seems to be (to me) 12 months and they are coming at us in a huge way, and we MUST be prepared for them. The part about going over a waterfall was us losing control and going off the deep-end. Siding down that slope was scary, but we came to a rest at the bottom, so maybe we will have 12 months of sliding down and finally, they will go away, and we will be all right. I hope so.
**Slut-Bitch's name is Stephanie, but not the Steph that I went to school with/is my friend/was my Matron of Honor. Everything I said to the man on the phone (in the dream) about Slut-Bitch is completely true.
Awake, but barely. Had a series of strange dreams, but some were funny. One involved us going to [a good friend's] house, where we (the two of us, our kids, [the good friend], his wife and their two kids) all played with Play-Doh and colored with crayons. We went home (to a different house), and you and the boys went into the basement. I followed--to do laundry--and saw you had set up the area to practice derby car racing, with a blue track shaped like a puzzle maze, a dry-erase board with things to remember, and car parts spread about, ready to assemble.
I went upstairs, and found a man standing in our dining area--and he was nearly dead. He wasn't a flesh-eating zombie, merely sort-of dead. I was on the alert, and grabbed one of Chris' swords off the wall. The man begged me not to cut off all of his extremities, so I cut off his left leg, and both arms. He didn't bleed, but chuckled, and said he'd have a difficult time getting around. I joked he'd now be the that busy one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest that everyone jokes about. I left him laying on the floor, chuckling, put the sword back, and you came upstairs. We started fooling around, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alex peeking through the basement door at us. I grabbed your hand and dragged you upstairs, where we had our way with each other.
Just as the moment was over, my mother comes into the house with my brother, so I hurried into the shower. I remembered to take off all of my clothes, except my socks and a dozen Mardi Gras beads around my neck. Just as I get the water over my head, the bathroom door opens, and my mom and brother are in the doorway. I grabbed the shower curtain and shriek at them. My mom tells me I have a phone call from a man named Linwood. I grab a towel, wrap it around me, step out of the shower, and go into the kitchen to answer the phone.
The man on the other end begins asking questions about Slut-Bitch**; it's her father--or grandfather, I couldn't tell. He said he hadn't seen her in a long time and wanted to know how she was doing. I responded that I had not seen her, either--not since we lived with her in 1999. I went on, saying she had been a kind-of whore who slept with all kinds of guys, threw herself at you, and hated you for rejecting her, tried to turn me against you, and liked to take our portion of the rent money and not pay the bills. He was sad to hear all of this, and I felt a little twinge of guilt for telling such a story, but then he asked me about Froot Loops. I laughed, because I had a sealed cup of Froot Loops in my hand at that precise moment.
When I hung up, I got dressed, and walked out to the highway, where a walk/run was taking place on Route 13 (southbound). It was called "Lucky 13", and was a 13 miles long race. Everyone who wanted to participate needed to register and get their bibs at the tables set up at the traffic intersection near the Farmer's Market. It was a beautiful warm, day and the sun was starting to set. We were standing in the road near the airport's water fountains; people were milling about stretching, jogging in place, on bikes and scooters, with strollers, or just walking briskly. You were on your bike, encouraging me to jog, but when we reached the intersection where registration was, I realized I had not registered, and shouldn't be participating, so left.
From there, you wanted to take the kids and I for a drive, so we all bundled up and went on our way. We took my car down an unfamiliar road which was full of hills, dome buildings, and green grass/trees. You discovered you could take your keys out of my car's ignition and it would still run while your foot was on the gas pedal; stop, and it would shut off. We came to a stop sign, and you had to restart the car, then made a right turn, and there were waterfalls everywhere! You joked that you should have brought your swimming trunks.
The road seemed to become a stream, and it appeared we'd drive over a waterfall, and I wanted you to turn around but it was impossible. We started to go over the edge, but it turned into a road leading to a parking lot, and we were suddenly face-to-face with a dozen school buses coming up the hill! They veered off to the right, circling around, and we slid down the hill, and came to rest at the bottom. The line of buses came back around and passed us by, going up the hill and disappearing from sight. We drove around the parking lot and chose to drive out, using a road called Seneca Avenue. It was then that the alarm went off, and I woke up.
I can't figure out what *all* of this means, but the 12 buses seems to be (to me) 12 months and they are coming at us in a huge way, and we MUST be prepared for them. The part about going over a waterfall was us losing control and going off the deep-end. Siding down that slope was scary, but we came to a rest at the bottom, so maybe we will have 12 months of sliding down and finally, they will go away, and we will be all right. I hope so.
**Slut-Bitch's name is Stephanie, but not the Steph that I went to school with/is my friend/was my Matron of Honor. Everything I said to the man on the phone (in the dream) about Slut-Bitch is completely true.
