I dreamt I was some sort of ghostbuster or exorcist or something. I was called by this family’s home. They seemed to be kind of white trashy, definitely had southern accents. Anywho, there was someone with me, a friend or partner. I don’t remember who.

I was there to do an exorcism, not on a man or woman or child, but on a cat. Two of them, in fact. The woman was convinced that her two felines had the devil in them or were being haunted or something. When my partner and I picked the cats up the started hissing and clawing at our clothes.

I managed to calm the cat down and tried to sleep through the night. But I awoke with an incredible sense of fear and dread. The cat was sort of freaking out and I was calming and reassuring it. I was so scared that I started doing the sign of the cross in the air — which I assume I was only doing in movies since I neither believe in god nor Jebus. 

Then it got really hilarious: I started yelling “The power of Christ compels you! The power of Christ compels you!” like in the movies. I think the demon or whatever, got the message because the evil feeling in the air was gone.

I remember too much after that, except that the woman that brought me there was no longer white and southern, but black. In fact she appeared to be Mabel King, the mom from TV’s “What’s Happening!!”. -fin-

The elevator doors open onto and expansive open-air office. It reminds me of the one featured on <i>Mad Men</i>. Except the color scheme is completely black and white — including the clothes people are wearing. Colors seem to be banned here. There’s what seem to be dozens, maybe a 100 or so, men and women, dressed in identical color schemes walking lockstep through the office.

Order is called and we all sit around this giant conference table. I guess it’s my first day and I am dressed in a Threadless t-shirt with pigs on it. There’s a lot of old, white men (no surprises there) and one of them introduces me as the newsest member of the team. Everyone around stands up and cheers, “Here, here!” It’s very old fashioned and super uncomfortable.

I don’t remember much else except that it’s clear I don’t belong here at all. -fin-

I hate reality TV. So anything involving it is a nightmare, awake or asleep. In my dream I thought I was watching one. It was called “World’s Least Likely Drag Queen.” Before long I realized that I wasn’t watching a reality game show, but starring in it.

I’m not 100% sure of the point of this show, but if I had to guess it would be dress someone up in drag and make them walk around the block for cash and fabulous prizes.

I was dressed all in pink like Elle Woods from Legally Blonde, with a pink wig, pink nail polish and make-up. I feel like I looked like a human version of Miss Piggy and sprinkle in a little bit of Divine for good measure. I’m sure this is just my overactive imagination filling in the blanks, but I could swear The Isley Brothers’ “Who’s That Lady?” was playing as I sashayed down the street.

The most frightening aspect of this dream is that I didn’t seemed to be bothered, panicked or freaked out that I was walking down the street dressed as a woman.

I’m be skipping the Gay Pride Parade this year. -fin-

I am upstairs in my bedroom on the phone. Financial guru, Suze Oreman is on the phone. We’re having a very heated conversation. She apparently just flew in from wherever she lives and is staying at my house. She’s telling me that the airline lost her luggage. But luckily, it turned up right after she left the airport. She’s asking me to drive to the airport and pick it up for her.

If you’ve ever watched her on TV, you know how insistent she can be when she thinks she’s right. She thinks that I am the one who should go pick up her luggage. All the while, I am resisting of course. And appparently I am too polite to say the obvious: “Suze: You’re loaded. Why don’t you just pay for someone to go pick it up for you?”

This heated conversation goes on for awhile and I finally let loose on her. I’m talking and talking and talking, and suddenly I realize that she’s not on the line any more.

I go downstairs where I find her sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner with my family. I am totally exasperated and she’s very aloof about the conversation we just had, like it didn’t happen, like she didn’t just hang up on me when she wasn’t getting what she wanted.

That’s when she tells me that because of me, because I would not go out of my way to pick up her lost luggage at the airport, George W. Bush israising interest rates 3.5%. Somehow this is a punishment for me which she has personally encouraged.

I also had an unrelated dream about flossing. I use those little floss tools that look like a tiny, plastic one-stringed harp. In the dream I use one after another after another. Each time I am pulling more and more little bits of gunk out of my mouth. It’s like not matter how much I floss, there’s still more crap in there.

Either this is a metaphor for the futility of things or it’s my subconscious guilting me about going to bed again without flossing.

-fin-

The other morning, in real life, I had some strange insomnia. I usually have no trouble at all sleeping. I awoke at 4:40AM to pee and when I got back into bed I just could not fall back to sleep. I tossed and turned and finally went to the couch. Nothing. Wide awake.

The following night I had a dream that essentially replayed those events, except I was aware that it had alrady happen. And in real life, the next morning, I had to be up early for work. So it was an anxiety dream about having insonmia and not being able to get enough sleep for work. But the thing is that it wasn’t until later, after I awoke, that I realized I was just dreaming about not being able to sleep.

Can you tell I have stuff on my mind? -fin-

Somehow we get onto the topic of jean jackets. I mention that when someone wears a jean jacket and blue jeans together, it’s called a “jean burrito”. Everyone is laughing and then, instead of saying “It’s also called a Canadian Tuxedo”, I say “Mexican Tuxedo”. The crowd of people is suddenly not laughing any more. I’ve managed to offend everyone there. including this guy from Raoul Pereze. He was this really funny guy who had a reputation in high school of being a stoner, but a really smart stoner. It was well-known that he was a pot dealer. I remember all these details because Sharyn and I were talking about how in high school, he “campaigned” at the last minute for Class President as a joke and actually won.

Apparently in my dreams I am a giant racist. -fin-

In real life I where a mouth guard because I grind my teeth at night. It seems like the mouth guard is making me be more aware of my grinding than less.

In the dream this morning I awoke from sleep (in the dream, not in real life). I went into the bathroom, took out my mouth guard and looked in the mirror. I noticed that there was suddenly and unexpectedly a gap between my two front teeth. In the logic of dreamland I thought I could just shimmy it back into place. Instead I managed to make it more crooked. On closer examination, I noticed a gross little threat hanging down from my gum line, it was like a combination nerve and tooth-fragment looking thing. I panicked and tried to stuff it back in to no avail. This caused a whole bunch of other small tooth fragments to stream, almost comedically, out of my mouth. By this time my tooth was totally skewed to the left despite my efforts push it back in place. Oddly, there was no pain during any of this. The dream ends there.

Last week I awoke from a funny one. I dreamed I was at a Sarah Palin press conference. It was held on a dock for some reason and she kept making reference to her boat that was “docked here in this habor, there.”

I had the bright idea that I would steal her boat. When I got onto the boat, I noticed that it had plug in the bottom of it, like that of an old fashioned tube. I pulled out the plug and the boat immediately started filling with water — with me on it.

With the boat sinking right here in this harbor, there, the reports and Palin started to notice that I was sinking her boat. (Insert your own interpretation here.)

Dream ends there.

-fin-

The only reason I am putting this down in the dream journal is that in the past I’ve had prophetic dreams, or at dreams dreams that could be interpreted as being prophetic. Thankfully when I turned the TV on for real this morning, it wasn’t true.

-fin-