Wednesday, 6 October 2010

To go or not to go?

I was in Bridport, staying with my family, and realised it was time to take my tablet. I scrabbled around in my bag, moving all the junk out of the way, which seemed to multiply the longer I looked. I finally realised that I must have left them at home.
This was a major disaster as I'm on a drug trial (in real life, not just the dream) and the tablet has to be taken at the same time everyday.

With a sight I knew that I would have to go home and get them. This was not a pleasant thought as home was 2 hours away to get there and then 2 hours to get back.
But it had to be done.

So I climbed into the bus after successfully trying to persuade B to come back with me.

Halfway home I started wrestling with myself; if I was going all the way back home just to get my pills, wouldn't it be easier to just stay there and not go back to Brid? But then I'd have to tell the family that I wasn't coming back and they might be upset. But I was only staying for a couple more days and then coming home anyway.

And so the internal monologue went on. I'm so indecisive that I was still trying to make up my mind when I woke up

Baby alert

Horrifying dream last night - I had a baby. Ugh.
My dream self took it all in her stride though - total competence, not a step missed. You'd have thought I'd picked it up in the supermarket.
It was a boy by the way.

The biggest problem I had was picking a name. I didn't want anything boring but I didn't want anything too outlandish either. And I kept saying that my dad would never forgive me if I named him something odd. I like the name Lorcan but wasn't sure so I decided to ask the baby which name he liked.
I reeled off names to him while looking for a sign that he liked it. Finally, when I suggested the name 'Tam' he got very excited and waved his arms around so I knew he wanted that as his name.

I'd had my friend C with me all the time so I decided to honour him by giving the baby his name as a middle name - Tam Clive. Then decided it only worked if 'Tam' became 'Tamlyn'.
But this was too girly for me so 'Tam' stayed as and the middle name became Sebastian. Absolutely no idea why.

I was still deciding if this was the right name when I woke up. And then shuddered.

Tuesday, 31 August 2010

The perfect shirt

I was in a shop looking for a blue check shirt, sifting though all these nasty ones on one of those rails that spins round.
Then I found it, the perfect - and I mean perfect - shirt. Right material, right colour, right check size, everything. But as soon as I went to grab it, it moved on the rail. I kept trying to grab it and ending up with one of the nasty ones.

So I'm chasing this shirt round the rail getting really frustrated because I'd finally found the perfect one and it wouldn't let me have it.

I really need to find the perfect blue checked shirt now so I can stop dreaming about it.

Saturday, 28 August 2010

I believe I can fly

Last night I dreamed I could fly. This is nothing new for me, it's a recurring theme which possibly reflects my sense of feeling trapped.

What's peculiar though is the way I do it. No graceful zipping through the air like Superman, or flapping of elegant wings like a fairy.

No, I fly by launching myself into the air and keeping myself afloat by doing the breastroke. Yep, you read that right, I use the breastroke to fly. And I have to do it really fast to gain height. Talk about ungainly.

Imagine this in mid air

Friday, 20 August 2010

Runaway wedding

In last night's dream, Bridget Regan was my mate. Wishful thinking I know.
But anyway, we were fairly new friends and as girls do, we were chatting about men. I was telling her all about the great features of some of the men I know when we cam across them, and she was on the lookout for a bit of new romance.

We were hanging out in an old building - who knows why - and I introduced her to my friend P. They clicked immediately, which was nice to start with.
After a couple of hours though I was getting annoyed because they had both deserted me and were holed up in a room talking in whispers and hiding behind sheets. Nothing dirty, just the kind of thing you do when you're a kid and you're really, really close to someone.

The next thing I know, P and Bridget are holding hands and giggling and making their way out of the house. They didn't say a word to anyone, just vanished, after changinf clothes into something a bit smarter.

I was a bit peeved at having been left out and deserted by my two friends so I turned to P's mum and dad, who just sort of magically appeared, and asked if they knew what was going on.

I don't know why I thought they would know since they hadn't spoken to either P or Bridget, but anyway, I asked.

His mum told me, completely nonchalantly, that they had run off to get married. That she could tell by the way they looked.

I was gobsmacked at this, especially since they had only met a couple of hours before but P's parents didn't seem to think it was a big deal at all!

I was even more peeved then, that they would just run off like that without telling me and was feeling a bit stroppy.

And then I woke up. Still feeling stroppy

Wednesday, 4 August 2010

Non family gathering

I went to what I thought was a family party and was a bit bemused to see a load of friends from Brid there. I was a little scared at the thought I might actually be related to half of Brid.
We were all camping in a field next door and they had left a tiny space right at the top for me to put my tent up.
I wasn't at all happy about this cos it was too far for me to walk and I kept falling over people's stuff so I went down to sit in the foyer (the family member's house was like a castle).
I was even more bemused when P and J from America walked in! And I know I'm not related to them.
I was a bit startled to say the least and more so when P produced a blender to make milkshakes. Only he used yogurt, whipped cream, chocolate mousse, ice cream and some kind of food colouring to make it.

Maybe I was really hungry last night...

Wednesday, 28 July 2010

Premier league Sports Day

In my younger years I was a bit sporty. Up until the age of 12, when I decided I didn't want to be a 'jock', I was a bit of a dab hand at the 100 metres and 100m hurdles.
One thing I was not was a footie player. Nor have I ever been or wanted to be. So this latest dream was rather surprising even for me.

I was at my old primary school, despite being an adult, for their annual Sports Day. It was a bit special this year and attracted a huge crowd as, for no particular reason, Arsenal was playing Manchester United. And I was playing for Arsenal. Not only was I playing for them, I was one of their best players. And we won!

Despite this I still have no desire to play footie.

Monday, 19 July 2010

I am Legend - Part 2.

Most of my recent dreams involve me shouting at people. A lot. Doesn't take a shrink to work out why, but I'm not sure what a shrink would make of this latest offering - I've moved on to killing people! For the good of humanity of course.

Once again I'm living in Brid (not sure what a shrink would make of that either). I'm having a quiet drink in my local pub, which has morphed into some kind of trendy place complete with mystery lounge at the top of a spiral staircase. And nobody ever gets to go up the staircase. Except today.
I notice a girl that I knew vaguely from school (one of the 'popular' crowd that were only ever popular with themselves), making her way up the spiral. Naturally I'm extremely curious about this so I sneak up after her and peek through the gap in the door. I don't know what I was expecting to see but it wasn't Raquel Welch and Joan Collins. But there they were.
They start telling L all about this amazing beauty cream they use that is the secret to why they still look so good for their age without having surgery. L, being one of those girls who is very into her looks, is very excited by this and agrees to buy some for what seems a ridiculously low price. And she doesn't question it.

Jump ahead and I've somehow met this bounty hunter type woman who grimly explains that the beauty cream is actually a form of germ warfare, carrying a deadly virus. Every person who uses it becomes a carrier. Eventually the manufacturers will activate the virus and then each carrier will infect everyone they come into contact with.
She paints a very dark picture by which I am horrified, and then says that she needs my help to kill every carrier before the virus is activated.
I don't actually remember agreeing but the next thing I know is I'm redirecting a group of carriers into a room ready to be slaughtered before anyone can stop us.

We end up racing around a derelict Victorian building in some unnamed city, killing every carrier we come across, desperately trying to find the last few before the manufacturers, who have realised what's been happening, can find us, while also avoiding the police who think they have a mass serial killer on the loose.

I was quite relieved to wake up from that one!

Tuesday, 22 June 2010

Challenging Feral

Most of my recent dreams have involved me getting stroppy with people and this one is no exception.

Dream starts with my and my friend D faffing about in the living room one morning (I'm living in her house) when D's mum throws open the front door and announces that D is moving back to Brid.
D is flapping around open mouthed in disbelief while her mum starts moving furniture.
I'm boiling mad at the sheer audacity of the woman and decide I need a cig. (despite the fact that I have given up)
I stomp out of the house without telling anyone I'm going and wander down to the local butcher shop. Because of course that's where you go to buy fags.
When I get inside I realise the owner is the bloke who used to run the local shop when I was a kid, who nicknamed me Trouble (no idea why). He greets me like an old friend and asks what I want and then I realise how daft it is going to a butchers for cigarettes. I'm stuttering something about wanting to know where the nearest place I can buy them is when the female assist opens a door in the wall and announces they do sell them. They have one of those hole in the wall kiosk things so I go back outside and ask for tobacco. Unfortunately they've sold out of tobacco so I decide I'll have a packet of straights instead. All of them are weird foreign brands that I've never heard of so I decide not to buy any after all. (see, even my dreams don't want me to smoke)

I wander back up the street, pondering the situtation and decide that I'm just not going to have it. No one can come in and tell someone they are moving.
When I get back, there is a removal van outside the house and half the furniture is packed. Steamingly mad, I start taking furniture back out of the van and take it back into the house. Then I start yelling at D's mum, telling her she can't just tell D she's moving, and what about me, I lived there too? I take a stand, tell her we're NOT moving and stomp back out to bring more furniture back in. And then I woke up

I couldn't help laughing when I woke up cos in real life D's mum is scary and I would never dare yell at her!

Kids club night

Dream starts with me living back in Brid. (I know, horrible thought)
I'm in the bath, liberally soaping myself when my babysitter, Dawn, yells to me that she's taking the boys off to De'Vinchies (the local, now closed, nightclub)
I absently minded grunted my agreement without realising what she's said and then five minutes later, once I've climbed out of the bath, I suddenly realise what's going on. I stand there in shock thinking 'she didn't really say she's taking B to De'Vinchies?!' out loud and then throw my clothes on, determined to go down and sort it out.
I then appear at the club (as you do) and shove and punch my way through the huge crowd outside waiting to get in. (This never happened, De'Vinchies was not in any way a good nightclub)
I finally get to the door and, peering over someone's head, see Dawn and B (with one of his also underage friends) paying to get in. The bouncer bloke looks suspiciously at B, obviously thinking he's too young to get in but then realises he knows Dawn so lets them on through.
At this point I stomp my way in to the woman taking the money and start yelling at her - 'do you realise that boy is only 14 years old? what sort of place are you running here?' -
I grab hold of Dawn, who's wearing a beautiful, tight red dress, and start yelling at her - 'what the hell do think you're doing taking B to a nightclub, he's 14 years old for god's sake!' , 'how bloody irresponsible are you?'
I then grab hold of B, dragging him out of the club, with him complaining how I've embarrassed him in front of everyone and continue yelling while trying to work out how we're going to get home.

Ah, yet another morning where I wake up thinking 'What the hell??'

Sunday, 4 April 2010

Date with a Creek

So, MS is officially the most boring disease in the world. Not only does it mean that I'm forced to spend all day indoors sitting on my arse but also that my fingers are too numb to do any writing! How unfair is that??

Ok, now that my slightly uncomfortable reason for the lack of updating is out there, let's move on.

How do you know when you've spent far too much time watching Jonathan Creek? When you start dreaming about Alan Davies is how.

Dream starts in a festival ground, when everyone is finishing up ready for opening. It's early afternoon, lovely and quiet, with very few people around. (Yes I'm aware this is entirely unrealistic but hey, it's MY dream). JC and I are meandering through the grounds in that very awkward but exciting period at the beginning of a relationship. You know, when you both know the other likes you but you're waiting for the first move to be made.

We're happily wandering, talking about little nonsense things, with the occasional 'accidental' brush against the other's arm etc, etc, when some bloke wanders up to ask me out. I casually tell him I'm not interested, barely breaking off my conversation, and carry on walking.

This happens a couple more times, by which time I'm thinking that this has never happened before and wondering what's going on. It does have the affect of JC finally taking my hand and we wander over to a picnic table to sit down, me grinning like a schoolgirl.

JC is due on stage in a few hours so I suggest he goes upstairs for a rest. He looks at me coyly and asks if I will come up and help him to bed. I say to him, in a husky voice with a seductive waggle of the eyebrows, 'well, that depends if you want to get any sleep.'

And then I wake up. Before we get to the good stuff. Dammit.