Who Has More Fun When Asleep?

The other night The Husband and I went to bed at a decent time. I elected to read for a while and The Husband elected to go directly to sleep.

After 15 minutes or so, The Husband starting mumbling. Then he started laughing. More mumbles, louder this time and very excited. And, laughter. Oh, the laughter! It was so funny, I laid in bed next to him and laughed out loud.

Of course, he didn't remember his dream in the morning.

He rarely remembers dreams.

On the other hand, I have horrible, scary dreams. Search this blog using the keywords "dreams" and you'll see for yourself. (I haven't even written about my recent car jacking dream!)

I guess it is obvious that The Husband sleeps the sleep of the innocent or something. What does that say about me?

 

Fiddle dee dee. I'll worry about that tomorrow!

Piranha & Snakes In Your Bathroom Sink

Do you keep piranha or snakes in your bathroom sinks? In my dream last night, an old co-worker does.

She loaned me her condo in a big city (it felt like Chicago?) and in one of the two bathrooms, she had tropical fish in the bathtub, two piranha in one sink and one snake in the second sink. There was also a baby alligator in the cabinet underneath the sinks. She told me I had to use the bathroom with all the critters. I was, under no circumstances, to use the bathroom without critters.

She became very upset with me during a phone call while I was there, because she knew something was wrong with them. She could just "feel" it.

She could "feel" it because they were dead! Not the tropical fish, just the others.

I accidently killed the piranha by spilling shampoo in their water.

I not so accidently killed the snake by bopping it on the head when it lunged at me.

I don't know how I killed the baby alligator, I just know I put it in a shoe box in her closet. (Alligator shoes?!)

I drank ice tea last night. I went to bed early. The book I was reading did not contain any of the dream critters. It did, however, contain scorpions and was set in a darkly alternative Chicago. Did I convert the scorpions to the dream critters?

It's an adventure every night when I lay my head down to sleep!

Ice Cubes Shaped Like States

I worked on my "Things To Do In 2012" this week and signed up with one of the local staffing agencies.

Depending on what type of position you are seeking, agencies administer skills tests to confirm your level of proficiency. No more do they believe people when they say, "Trust me. I can do the job."

I dreamed (yes, this is also a dream post) that I was asked to report to the agency office for testing. They gave me a large board with the outline of the United States drawn on it. I was then given 50 state shaped ice cubes and a tube of super glue. I had to glue the states onto the board in the proper position before the ice melted.

What?

I really need to purchase a dream interpretation book!

Marlboro Man is a Zombie

I've posted here a few times about my vivid dreams. Go to the right side bar and type "dreams" in the search box to read a few stories.

It is my custom to read blogs every night before I go to bed. The other night I read Pioneer Woman's "Chasing Sunsets" post and all I could think of while looking at the photos is the sunset looked like fire.

My dream started with me and a group of people at a function at Pioneer Woman's Lodge. As we looked over Oklahoma's Osage County from the Lodge deck, we saw fire in the distance. Marlboro Man and others left hurriedly to fight the fire.

In the blink of an eye, they were running up the slope towards the Lodge screaming, "Run, run! Zombies!" As we looked again over Osage County, we saw an army of zombies approaching rapidly.

People scrambled off the deck and started running away from the zombies. There was a barn in the distance and women were hearding the children toward the barn, with the men bringing up the rear of the crowd. Unfortunately, the zombies caught some of the men, Marlboro Man included. Once those men converted to zombies, they began chasing their human friends and families.

The humans were close to the barn and beginning to go inside, when the zombies caught up with the stragglers. Marlboro Man caught up with their sons (which, in my dream were older than their daughters) and converted them to zombies.

As the humans entered the barn, we saw it was set up for a party. There were round tables for 8 with tablecloths and place settings and a buffet table for food. The humans were herded through the party area and up a staircase to a loft. Everyone stood in the loft and watched as the zombies entered the barn. We thought for sure we were at the end, but a funny thing happened. The zombies sat down at the tables, as if they were the original party guests!

One of the humans yelled, "There's a back staircase. Let's leave while they are busy!" The humans raced down the stairs and across the pasture to the nearest small town. The last time I saw Pioneer Woman she was sheparding her two girls toward town. The End.

I've never met Pioneer Woman, hence I have never been to her Lodge.

I understand that reading her sunset post and viewing the photos could have made me think of prairie fires, because we had a lot of fires in 2011 in Oklahoma.

I understand that I could dream of zombies and barns, because I'm a big fan of The Walking Dead and their mid-season finale featured a barn full of zombies.

What I don't understand is how I could (or would) put Pioneer Woman and The Walking Dead in the same dream. Was the common link barns? Barns owned by the Drummonds and the barn on The Walking Dead? Why? I had not read anything about The Walking Dead or seen anything on TV about the show prior to retiring for the night.

I can only hope two things:

1. I don't have this dream again.
2. Pioneer Woman will forgive me. Or better yet, Marlboro Man will forgive me!

This is similiar to when I dreamed that Bradley Whitford lived under my bed.

Have you had any crazy dreams recently?

Bradley Whitford Lives Under My Bed

Last weekend, I read a blurb in David Inman's column in the weekly Tulsa World TV Guide about Bradley Whitford playing the character of serial killer Red John on "The Mentalist." (Here's a link to another story.)

I've watched 3 or 4 episodes of "The Mentalist" and think it's a decent show, but I've never been a regular viewer. I did, however, know that a serial killer named Red John had killed Patrick's wife. 

When I read that Bradley Whitford had played the killer, I was surprised. I love his acting and watched all the episodes of "West Wing" (who didn't?) and "Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip," among other things. I thought "Wow, that's against type for him."

I didn't think anything else about this nugget of knowledge and happily went to bed and to sleep that night.

And that's when the dream started. 

Yes, the dream that Red John (Bradley Whitford) was stalking me and getting in my house whenever he wanted. The police and I couldn't figure out how he was getting in. We set up all kinds of perimeter security and had cameras everywhere outside, but could never catch him.

We couldn't catch him because he was already in the house. Living under my bed. In a room. UNDER MY BED!

The next morning, The Husband says to me, "Did you have a bad dream last night?" 

I reply, "Why, yes I did. Why do you ask?"

The Husband shakes his head and says, "You kept thrashing around and yelling 'What do you want? What do you want?', so I just turned my back to you and hoped you wouldn't knock me out of the bed with all your thrashing."

Um, gee thanks honey!

So, who (or what) lives under your bed?

{I've told you about my weird dreams before. You can read them again by clicking on the label "dreams" on the right side of the page.}

I'm a Dreamer

I've told you before that I am a wild dreamer. You can read some of those doozies by clicking on the word "dreams" in the "labels" category on the right side of the screen.

My dreams frequently incorporate elements of what I've recently seen on TV or in movies, what I've read and or what I've discussed with family and friends. I'm currently reading The Passage, which is one of those "post apocalyptic" books I enjoy so much.

I read several exciting chapters last night in bed. Once I turned out the light and fell into a deep sleep, I started dreaming and suddenly Babcock* was speaking to me. SCARY!

How about you? Does what you watch, read or discuss influence your dreams?

*Babcock is a main character in The Passage.

Illness & Dreams

I've not posted in a few days because I've not felt well with sinus and ear infections.

I haven't had a ear infection in years and years and years. My ears hurt so bad a couple of nights ago, I called my mommy and asked her for my magic, pink silk pillowcase. When I was a child and had earaches, she would put the pillowcase on my pillow and tell me to rub my ears on it. It distracted me, made me feel better and gave the medicine time to work.

Now you know how bad my ears hurt for me, at 51 years of age, to phone my mommy, who is 79 years old, asking for my pink silk pillowcase!

I saw the doctor and got some meds, so I'm on the road to recovery.

I always dream a lot, but when I'm sick the dreams come fast and furious. Last night I had two very different dreams.

The first dream involved saving the world by assisting an Asian ninja assasin. The details are really fuzzy.

The second dream had The Husband and I purchasing a trailer home at a lake. The former owners did not clean the trailer. The wife would cook and then put dirty casserole dishes and dirty tupperware in plastic garbage bags and store them in the back of the cabinets. I kept pulling out bags of dirty dishes and getting hysterical. My husband kept telling me, "Throw them away!" I kept saying, "These dishes are too good to throw away! I must wash them!" The last scene in the dream was me trying to soak the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink.

Maybe I had that dream because I left a pan soaking in our sink last night? Yeah, that could be it. First thing I did this morning in the kitchen was clean that pan.

I do solemnly promise you that I do not put bags of dirty casserole and tupperware dishes in the back of my cabinets. Cross my heart!

Vivid Dreams # 2

The Husband and I have been working to check off a few chores around the house.

A major chore is cleaning up our basement, which means reorganizing some items and determining what to trash, donate or put on Craig's List. Our basement isn't really in bad shape, but when you have an area like that you tend to put things down there a bit haphazardly and say to yourself, "I'll tidy that up later." Later has finally arrived!

While running up and down the stairs recently, my nieces were trailing my every move. The 7 year old noticed a spider web with 3 egg sacs attached. I told her not to touch them, just as her little index finger was going in to poke one of the sacs.

I asked the husband to help me get rid of the web. The last thing we need is a bunch of baby spiders hatching in the basement! We did the deed and threw out the trash sack. No big deal.

Of course, that night I go to bed and dream of a web, a mother spider and egg sacs!

The setting is the living room of the house in which I grew up. I walk in the front door and my mother is sitting in a chair by the window. I start to sit in a chair by the tv and see a big web between the two pieces of furniture. I say, "Mom, I'll get rid of that web for you." She replies, "Thanks, Cindy."

I retrieve the vacuum from the closet, plug it in and turn it on. The mother spider immediately flies (yes, flies) through the air and lands on the ceiling fan. (Note: There was never a ceiling fan in the living room of my family home.)

Mom says, "Go to the kitchen and get the broom and knock that spider down." Being the good daughter, I retrieve the broom and step into the living room. The spider sees me with the broom and flies straight at my face. The spider, by this time, is flying just like a hummingbird.

I'm waving the broom around, trying to knock the flying spider to the floor and my Mom just sits there watching me. Thanks, Mom.

Finally, I hit the spider with the broom and it falls to the floor. I think I step on it, but I don't really remember. I do remember using the vacuum to sweep up the remains of the spider, the web and the egg sacs. I remove the bag from the vacuum and double bag it in plastic and take it outside to the trash can.

The End.

I did not watch any spider tv shows or movies that night. I have not read any spider books. I have, however, recently read Donna's two posts here and here about her spider.

Hey, the spider in my dream looks a lot like Donna's spider!

I think she is making me feel guilty about getting rid of her very small sister in my basement!

Should I document all my vivid dreams here on the blog? You, my dear readers, could psychoanalyze me. Comments welcomed. Or, Connie could tell me which dream interpretation books to purchase.

Vivid Dreams

I'm a vivid dreamer. I always have been.

Some mornings, I recite elaborate, strange dreams to my husband before we ever get out of bed.

I can remember the most minute details, as long as I tell someone the dream as soon as I awake. If I don't, by afternoon the details have faded and all I can remember is if it was strange, exciting, scary, etc.

Friday night we stayed home. Late in the evening, we watched the first episode of The History Channel's Swamp People, followed by an episode of Animal Planet's Hillbilly Handfishin'.

Jealous, aren't you? Go ahead, admit it. I'll wait.

Over it now? Okay, let's proceed with my story.

We went to bed and I dreamed of a bizarre combination of those two shows, plus a healthy sprinkling of some of my favorite post-apocalyptic books such as The Stand, Lucifer's Hammer and The Road.

I dreamt of the world as we know it ending and the only people who survived were those who had skills like alligator hunting or fishing by hand.

I woke up several times during the night. And every time I fell asleep again, I fell back into the same dream.

"As God is my witness," I drank only ice tea Friday evening.

Seriously.

I either need to more carefully choose the shows I watch or have a cocktail or two before bedtime!

Questions:
Perhaps I should learn to noodle and hunt alligators? Would I then feel more prepared and not have dreams on this topic? Or, should I quit reading post-apocalyptic books? Or, quit watching those tv shows? Or, go for counseling? The possibilities are endless.