Discolor Online

Weblog of the sweetest person you never want to piss off.


What dreams

You know you've been playing too much Viva Piņata when your dreams involve pairing up animals and trying unsuccessfully to get them to "romance".

Chris noted that my dreams almost always involve being powerless and frustrated. He's right. My dream life never involves peaceful walks on the beach, relaxing with friends, or seeing loved ones in a non-stress environment. No, my dreams are of living under strict Islamic rule where I can't greet my male friends or drive a car, even though my husband can't drive, or being trapped in a big house, or Pramas being mind-controlled into wearing yellow on yellow. I dream I'm answering e-mails, or editing by-laws (in my GAMA days), of backstabbing so-called friends where I relive the anguish of their betrayals in new dreamy ways, or being in a car crash.

A couple weeks ago I dreamed that I was a fugitive from the government. I'd discovered that I was being tracked, pursued by shadowy forces who wanted Kate. I couldn't call Chris for help, I couldn't access my money, I was literally running for my life and hiding in dumpsters, scavenging crude weapons to try to protect myself and my daughter from high-tech adversaries.

The other night I dreamed that Mike Webb had my daughter with him at his hotel (he was visiting town) and I had to try to pick her up but I'd left the house with no cell phone, no directions, no money and no car. Who could I call? Who could come help me? How could I find Kate? Time was ticking and I couldn't solve the problem, I had nothing.

On the scale of things, dreaming about feeding and tending my piņata garden (unsuccessful as I was at the "romancing") is pretty mild for me.

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Two nights in a row I've woken up early in the morning from nightmares involving Chris. In Sunday morning's nightmare involved Chris, a disgusting Larry-the-Cable-Guy-esque tow truck driver, a giant house that had been turned into a museum, and themes of anger and betrayal, secrets I couldn't uncover and I awoke still echoing with fury. Unpleasant.

This morning's nightmare was even more deeply horrifying. Pramas had a new job where they were completely into "Tie Theory" (the theory, he cheerfully explained to me, that men who wear ties to their jobs work harder and achieve better results). He was getting ready for work, wearing a really ugly yellow button-down shirt and trying to choose between two yellow ties with garish orange accents. I couldn't believe he was not only willingly wearing ties to work but willingly wearing these godawful ties. I gently tried to coerce him away from the yellow ties, "Don't you have any other ties? Yellow on yellow lacks contrast, maybe there's something else we can try?" That's when I noticed he was holding a large handful of ties, many of them those knit ties that were popular in the 80s. I'd never seen any of these ties before (and they were all horrible!) and I'm sure Pramas has never owned this many ties in his entire life. It was then that he looked at me with an unnatural grin and terrible, dead eyes and told me he couldn't wear any ties that hadn't been approved in advance by the management. In my dream I began to sob uncontrollably and awoke gripped in fear.

Stupid, I know, a nightmare about ties... but it scared the crap out of me and I've been up ever since.