There are no bad owners, only bad dogs



Most of the time I don't remember my dreams, and I get jealous when I read or hear vivid adventures through the land of nod described by others. It seems like I'm not getting a fabulous benefit that everyone else gets -- like I'm sitting behind a column at a concert so I don't get to watch Barry Manilow as he croons. Or like I have a black and white tv (12 inch) and everyone else has big color plasma screens and digital cable. However, I have recently been remembering my dreams when I wake up, so now I'd like to shut off that facility. I didn't know I'd had it so good. People from the distant past whom I've tried for years to forget are back. People from work who I don't like -- I spend the whole night in their company. Stuff I hate doing, I get to do for 7 hours in dreamland.

For example, in the US I have a co-"worker" who works as little as possible. He's the guy who inspired the late-lunch covert ops to try to catch him at home in the afternoon (damn gated neighborhoods). He got married about a year ago to a crazy woman. We work with her, too. These people have an unrealistic view of how other people see them. In other words, they think they're the cool kids, but they're not. The little lady thinks she's the hottest thing on the planet. She buys all of her stretchy outfits from the home shopping channel, so you can conclude for yourself just how hot she must be. So because they are so attractive and popular, they had not one wedding reception, but two. The wedding was mostly family and was followed by a reception. The next day, they got up, climbed back into the tuxes, bridesmaid dresses and the wedding dress, had the hair and make-up re-done, and had a work-people reception. In the activity room of an apartment complex. How tasteful. We were invited, so we got a present, got dressed, got directions, got lost, found the place, drove into the parking lot, drove out of the parking lot, drove to a bar, and drank. We later were scolded by the one or two normal people who actually parked their cars and got out and entered the "reception hall." We're still wondering to this day if they hung white floral garlands from the elliptical trainer. Most of the guests consisted of the Crazy 88s , who will go anywhere with their entire family if free food is involved.

So anyway, the other night I dreamt that I was at a different wedding, someone else's wedding, someone who's not so ridiculously popular that they have to have 2 receptions. In the dream this woman, the bride from the above incident, showed up at the wedding in her own wedding dress again. Flouncing around, being popular and attractive.

Now, how the hell is that helping me work out the issues and problems in my own psyche? It just wasted time and gave me the heebies, as far as I can tell. I mean, aren't dreams supposed to help in some way? This is not helping.

Another waste of dream time: I had a gun, some kind of revolver. Very odd, because I am very anti-gun, very afraid of guns, and don't even like to touch the damn things. So, I have this revolver and some bullets, and I'm shoving bullets into the gun and trying to shoot it. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. I don't have a clue what I was shooting at -- nothing scary enough to be memorable, anyway. So I'm trying to shoot at something innocuous, but the gun's not working, so I just start throwing the bullets at the target. I don't just throw like a girl, I throw like a girl who was raised by gay men. If I throw something at you, it is very unlikely that it will hit you. If it does, it is very unlikely that you'll notice it, due to the lack of velocity.

So, Morpheus, if you're listening, I'd kind of like to go back to the way things were before.

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birth & death