Annapalooza

Sweet Dreams are Made of This April 8, 2011

I’ve always had very vivid and detailed dreams.  Sometimes it’s a recurring dream about forgetting my locker combination and not knowing my class schedule on the first day of school.  Most of the time, however, my dreams seem to fit into two other categories I will call “Subconscious” and “Crazytown”.

At first, a dream in the Subconscious category may disguise itself as a Crazytown.  For example, the other night I had a dream that I was watching a commercial of Sarah Jessica Parker hawking my brand of deodorant.  Now at first this seems just plain wacko, but then I realized that a) I was almost out of deodorant, and b) I had just seen a picture of Sarah Jessica in a magazine, taking a walk with her twin daughters.  So naturally these two subconscious thoughts just meshed nicely into a random dream that I could easily explain. 

On the other hand, Crazytown dreams are just too strange to possibly explain.   I tell myself that they are signs of my creative genius lurking within, and I need to harvest this kookiness so I can be rich and famous, a la Tim Burton.

Sample recent dream:  I am sharing a large hotel room with several strangers, and while they are out I am looking at all of their things.  It is Kentucky Derby week, and they all have notes about what horses to bet on.  One of my roommates actually has a horse in the race, and she has special legwarmers for the horse laid out on the bed since the track is full of snow and ice (even though it’s May in Kentucky).  Some of the legwarmers are Victoria’s Secret brand.  (Who knew they made horse apparel?)  Then a friend of mine comes in the room and sleeps in all the beds. I get mad because I have to tidy up the place.  And then I wake up.

Up until now my wacky dreams were simply just that:  wacky.  However, recently I had a truly visionary dream.  The day my stepson left on his big band/choir trip to New York City, I had a dream that he got very ill and was throwing up on the bus.  The next day I told my husband a couple friends about it, commenting how awful it was.  Sure enough, my stepson comes back from the trip and informs us that on the way out to New York he got very sick and threw up several times (thankfully not on the bus).  I couldn’t believe it; my vision was true!  Surely I must be some sort of clairvoyant.  My crazy dreams could be useful!

And then…nothing.  No more foretelling dreams, only wackiness and horrible work-related visions.  Where was my new talent?  All I know is I should have bought a lottery ticket that day.  Sigh…

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