Tuesday, March 06, 2007
I had forgotten about the dreams. The progesterone fuled epic dramas, comedies and musicals that play out in my head every night are a bit mind boggling. Not to mention the steam factor. So maybe they are more like full length feature porno films playing out in my head every night. Complete with decent plot lines, amazing wardrobe choices, and detailed sets.
Last night I dreamt about my Grandmother’s house. Not unusual. Most of my dreams are set there for some odd reason. This dream involved me very virtuously rejecting the affections of a lonely golf pro. He was hot. And persistent. So I’m not sure why I was being such a goody goody. I mean, it was just a dream.
The night before that I dreamed an entire SNL-esque musical skit about a girl who wonders if her skirt makes her butt look big. There were swirling lights, choreographed dancing, lyrics that rhymed, and 3 part harmony. Hello…I can’t dance and I barely read music. How come I can dream in three part harmony?
The one that really takes the cake though is from last week. I dreamed that I was a college coed in a weird time warp where we dressed like it was 1940, but IMed each other and talked on cell phones. My name was Carol, and I was enrolled in some kind of summer institute that seemed a lot like ritzy sleepaway camp. There were picturesque mountains and streams. Fields full of flowers, a lodge, etc. And I was there with a group of friends who looked like they jumped straight out of a scene from a WWII film. We did things like stroll around the lake in our Mary Janes while we carried our books close to our chest and giggled about boys.
Enter Kel. Kel is one of two boys who were attending our summer institute on exchange from another university. Kel, who resembled Mr. Golightly everso, was the heartthrob of the summer. All the girls were swooning over him. I wasn’t so impressed, until one day I happened upon him stocking shelves at the on-campus grocery store. I was buying milk in a glass bottle (?!?) He struck up a conversation and asked me if I’d like to have dinner. I said yes. Afterward he walked me back to my conveniently private room, located on the opposite side of the romantic moonlit lake.
(Is anyone gagging yet? I know. It’s like I’m channeling Danielle Steele.)
So we get back to my room where a long lingering kiss turns into bodice-ripping-heart-pounding-up-against-the-wall-sweaty (ahem, this is a PG blog.)
And then, sadly, Kel leaves the next day to return to his regularly scheduled life at a university far far away in the city. And I return to my mundane existence as a college student and employee at my nature preserve/university somewhere in the southern hills.
Cut to me sitting in some kind of staff meeting (with a bunch of people I actually used to work with), when suddenly the door flies open and this guy Brian (who I really did go to High School with) bursts in and says, “Carol, I just got another IM from Kel. He wants to talk to you. Really Carol, you’ve just GOT to tell him about the baby.” At which point I stand up to reveal a sizeable belly bump and excuse myself from the meeting. I go down the hall to the computer in Brian’s office and have an IM exchange with Kel that goes something like,
Kel: Where have you been? I’ve called, I’ve emailed…
Carol: I know, I need to see you. Can I come this weekend?
Kel: Of course, I’ll pick you up.
And the next thing you know I’m driving around in a golf cart with this girl who is a composite of about 5 of my girlfriends, and she’s also pregnant. We are maternity clothes shopping for my trip. The clothes are exquisite.
(Seriously, can you believe this? It lasted for hours. At one point I even got up to pee, came back to bed and picked up right where I left off.)
Ok, so cut to me in this very 1940’s esque train station, wearing a hat and a long raincoat. Kel sees me and runs down a long hallway, sweeping me into his arms. Of course, when he hugs me he feels the pregnant belly and freezes.
I KID YOU NOT, there was a close-up of my terrified face, and time stood still while I waited for Kel to recoil in disgust or fear. But no, (que musical swell) Kel steps back, drops to his knee and kisses my belly. Choking back tears he says, “It’s mine?”
And I, ever the leading lady, reply, “Either that or we have to name him Jesus.”
So we are both crying, and he’s kissing my face and saying, “Marry me, you’ve got to say you will!” And then we go back to his apartment and make sweet sweet love. (Bonus! Twice in one dream.) Afterward, we are lying there in the soft glow of sunset, and Kel says to me, “Oh, by the way, I’m really rich.” And I’m all, “Wha? You work at the grocery store.” And he says, “Not really, I developed a technology that allows stores to track their inventory on handheld wireless devices. I was just testing it out this summer. Microsoft bought my patent for $40 million.”
And then I woke up, and half expected to see the credits rolling above my bed.
Is that not totally unreal? Would Freud have a heyday with me or what? At least it’s not like my friend T who had dreams all through her second pregnancy about doing the nasty with the little old guy from the Monopoly box.