“Have you any dreams you’d like to sell…” – Stevie Nicks
Yes. Yes I do. Preferably in book form.
Here’s the thing; I have a lot of vivid dreams that I remember the next morning, and often document in a cute little journal I keep at my bedside. I also have a couple of books on dream interpretation – because I’m a dream junkie. Dreams fascinate me, and I want to know what they all mean.
When I started this blog, I tried a series on dream interpretation. The concept was simple; I’d relay one of my dreams, readers could leave their interpretations in the comments and then, in turn, share their dreams for interpretation. The idea went over like a lead balloon. I hadn’t counted on the fact that people wouldn’t be too eager to tell me my dream meant I was stark raving mad, or to open themselves up to the same possible interpretation. And besides, who wants to tell all of the inter web that they dreamt they were in a hot tub full of Nutella with Johnny Depp singing pirate songs while swigging rum?
I made that up. Totally.
I wrote a song once about a dream I had. We recorded it, put it on one of our albums, and a friend who paints his bizarre dreams painted my dream for the cover. That’s a post for another day. Anyway, I think I’ll start documenting more of my dreams here. That shit’s too good not to share. And I’ll give you a break. You don’t have to interpret them unless you want to, and in that case, I’m all for it. And you don’t have to share yours. But remember, I would love for read them.
So here’s one I posted over at Starr’s a little while back; repurposed here. This one’s actually a dream my husband Kevin had.
The Infidelities Dream
For some reason, my husband Kevin keeps having these dreams about infidelity.
Not his – mine.
The other night, he had a dream that we were on a new game show called “Infidelities!”
Exclamation point because reality shows – particularly the ones that feature illicit sex – are especially exclamation point worthy.
So we’re on the set of this game show, the music is playing, studio audience is all revved up and the Alex Trebekian host is explaining the premise of the show. One spouse has to guess the infidelities that the other has committed. The more you get right, the more points you rack up. Kind of like notches on the proverbial game show belt.
I’m sitting in a sound proof booth smiling broadly with excitement, while Kevin stands onstage with the host, filled with trepidation about what he might discover. The host introduces us in that Newlywed Game sort of way and just before the first question – he wakes up.
First of all, I want to know why I have to be the bad guy. Second, I feel sort of short changed that I won’t get to find out about the juicy stuff I allegedly did. And why is he even having these dreams?
This one isn’t the first. Not to mention – he had a dream last week that I lost our kid. What the heck? How come he gets to project his stuff onto me? Shouldn’t I get to have my own subconscious complex?
We’re like a collective ball of wadded up anxiety ready to shoot out of a loose cannon.
Where’s the fun in dreaming? I mean, last week I was having this perfectly lovely time on Johnny Depp’s Caribbean island, sipping rum and chatting about – oh, who cares what we were chatting about, as long as I was having a dream that included Johnny Depp. But I never got to the good part. I never do. There’s never anything other than polite conversation. So this is where I’ve gotta say that the infidelity thing is completely off base, because if I my own dreams are this uneventful, how come I’m about to be accused of something I don’t even get to do – in somebody else’s dream. Forget that. I’d just assume go back to those creepy recurring dreams I had as a kid where some zombified auto mechanic was hiding in the garage waxing the car and waiting for me to walk in so he can oh, so slowly inch closer as I’m frozen with fear. I probably ended up dead in those dreams, but the car? Man, that was gleaming.
Wait a minute. Does the fact that I’m dreaming about Johnny Depp mean that Kevin’s dreams are warranted? Is my subconscious being all unfaithful while his subconscious is being kinda glib?
Talk about getting the short end with no stick.
I spend all day fighting the typical insecurities associated with marital and parental responsibility only to have them underscored in someone else’s dream while I’m in dreamland no doubt grinding my teeth and telling off my relatives. If I can’t have fun with Johnny Depp, hey – that’s something.
And at least Kevin was laughing when he relayed his dream to me.
Infidelities would make a fun game show though, don’t you think? As long as it was all celebrities. Leave me out of it. Let’s watch Kim and Kanye hash it out.