For as long as I can remember, I've had incredibly vivid dreams. They are strange, action packed, occasionally confusing and sometimes frightening story lines created by my sleeping subconscious. I've often thought that keeping a detailed journal of these dreams would be a good idea, both for general understanding and because sometimes I think they would make great movies. That being said, I had another strange one last night. This one is not exactly movie material, but rates in the middle of my weird-o-meter.
It should be said that my dreams never follow an steady plot. One second, I can be at home making cookies and the next I'm riding a horse on top of the Empire State Building. There never seems to be any logical transition between scenes, and beginnings and endings can be abrupt or non-existent. Last night's dream may have had a definitive beginning, but today I cannot remember it.
It started with me walking through a mall, the big, ritzy-type, two story mall. I was wearing a wrap dress with a large flower pattern that was mostly black. I remember feeling like I looked good and I remember feeling like I was gliding through the mall like I owned the place. I was supposed to be meeting my family at a banquet hall that was located in the mall itself, however I was taking my time getting there. It seems, I wasn't excited about whatever event I was supposed to be attending. As I get to the venue, I realize there are many different rooms with different events going on. After peeking my head in, I decided to go into the room where a Bar Mitzvah type of celebration is going on. There is music and lights, all the makings of a great party. I notice an awkward young man, who's maybe 14 or 15. He seems to be the focus of the attention at this party, so I decide to wander up to this young man and ask him to dance. He's eager to dance with me. I look hot, remember, and I lead him out to the dance floor. Then, like a professional ballroom dancer, I start leading him through all theses crazy ballroom dance moves like we are contestants on Dancing With The Stars. It's like we are in Saturday Night Fever, minus the color changing dance floor and disco music, but definitely with the sweeping camera shots. I'm obviously leading, at this point because I'm dragging the kid around like a rag doll. You know, almost like when a little girl dances on her daddy's feet, except this had way more flare and dramatics. When we finish, the party goers are on their feet, and the room fills with applause. I remember thinking I was doing some sort of charity and thought to myself, "After that dance with me, this kid's going to be the talk of the town now." I saunter out of the room without speaking to anyone as the kid runs back to his family, only catching a glimpse of me exiting.
Another thing note about my dreams is that, more often than not, I don't recognize the people in them. When they do happen to be real life people, sometimes it can get weird. I remember the time I dreamt about making out with a not so attractive teacher from high school and had to see him the next day. I was mortified. I'll also never forget when I dreamt that my boyfriend had wrecked my brand new car, and I woke up pissed at him the next morning. I don't think he'll forget that one either. The next part of this dream contains someone I know in real life, but lucky for her (or me) nothing odd happened.
Scene change, and I'm at a pet shop that is in another mall. Come to think of it now, it kind of reminds me of the mall that my grandma used to take me when I was a kid. The odd thing about this pet shop is that it resembles a small, walk-up bakery. The case in the front, where the baked goods are usually displayed, is instead filled with puppies. There are no shelves in the case, it's one level is at about knee height, and the puppies are on display in there. There were a lot of them in there too, all piled on each other to the point where you couldn't tell what kind of puppy you were looking at. It was a big pile of wagging tails and fur. My friend, Season, is there and we are both crouched by the case looking at the puppy pile inside. There seemed to be a lot of poodle-looking puppies, so I asked the woman behind the counter, "What kind of puppies do you have in there?" She starts grabbing puppies and flipping them over, like they had labels on their bellies. Grabbing puppy after puppy, manhandling them like I handle blocks of Brie cheese at the grocery store, "This one's a Poodle. This one's a Shit-zu. Oh, another Poodle. Another Poodle." She continues reading the labels, and eventually we tune her out until I see a puppy that I think is cute. I ask her if it's a Cavalier, she confirms, and I get excited because I like Cavaliers. Then, I ask if there are any Havanese in the pile, and she goes back to belly checking. After a few more minutes of manhandling, she says, "I found one." This becomes quite a dilemma for me. I say to Season, as I'm on my knees in a begging pose, "What am I going to do? I can't have both." I'm feeling major stress. Apparently, this is major struggle. It is my subconscious' version of the red pill and blue pill. What to do? Oh God...
Then, nothing. That's where this dream ends. It is when the alarm clock sounded and popped my dream bubble. When I wake up after having vivid dreams, I always lay there for awhile and think, "What the hell did I just dream?" I try to recount the events of the dream in my head, trying not to forget. I almost always tell myself that I'm going to write it down this time, but it's never happened, until today. From now on, I'm going to try to get pen to paper, or rather hand to keyboard, to document the weirdness that goes on while I'm sleeping, and maybe even the chatter too because apparently, I talk in my sleep too. That, however, is another story.
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