25 April, 2006

My Old Boss Stole My Washing Machine

One of the strangest things about me are the endless, vivid, story-like dreams I have. Tim will swear up and down that my dreams are the wierdest he ever heard. And he took a class or two in wierd dreams, so he should know. It's kind of fun because each dream has a real narrative, character development and subtext. One of these days I'll be smart and start writing them down. Especially since I've twice dreamed what (years later) turned out to be blockbuster movies. Five years before Demi and Patrick (WHTO) Swayze were handed their scripts, I dreamed the entire plot of the movie Ghost. Ten years before Gwyneth I dreamed much of the story of Shakespeare In Love. Okay. Fair enough. I just dreamed about Shakespeare being in love with me. There was none of that Victor/Victoria crossdressing hi-larity in my sleep world. Nevertheless, the movie was called "Shakespeare in Love" and in my dream there was Shakespeare and he was in love so I'm going to count it.
I've occasionally had the woo-woo prophetic type of dream where a person I love is in trouble and I call them upon waking only to find out that, no they weren't being devoured by quicksand but yes, they do have a very bad chest cold. Occasionally my dead grandfather will show up for a game of chess or Scrabble. In that one Swedish movie the guy plays chess with death. In my dreams I play chess with a dead farmer who carried the mail in the winter. Kind of the same thing, but more lively.
Yes, I dream in color. Always. I always dream in English, although a few years ago when I was really fluent in Spanish I would have the occasional dream entirely in Spanish. What was weird is that each of those Spanish dreams featured Jesus Christ. It must have been because one of the ways I practiced my language skills was by reading the Bible in both languages. Because I didn't know any Spanish-speaking men named Jesus. In college when I studied Hebrew and German I had a few awkward Nazi dreams where one half of my language center was at war with the other. Thankfully that lasted only long enough to convince me to drop German. I hate that language. It's so literal, gutteral and harsh.
Last night I dreamed that a man from my old office stole my washing machine. The wierdest part (yes, it does get more strange) is that his wife was one of those Troll Dolls with the upsticking hair, and she kept pinching my stomach and lower back in a gesture of friendship. I truly don't get it. If they make a movie of that one I will NOT be there. Troll Dolls are creepy.

11 Comments:

At 12:35 PM, April 25, 2006, Blogger Michael said...

I think the real question is--why was Tim taking classes in weird dreams?

 
At 4:29 PM, April 25, 2006, Blogger Kat Coble said...

He was in the MA program in Clinical Psych. Also the reason I've taken Rorsarch (sp?) tests, multiple types of I.Q. tests, the MMPA and assorted other things that prove although I'm not technically crazy I have what is politely referred to as an "artistic" personality.

 
At 4:41 PM, April 25, 2006, Anonymous Anonymous said...

was ist ├╝ber die deutsche Sprache schlecht?

Jason

 
At 4:54 PM, April 25, 2006, Anonymous Sarcastro said...

Thankfully, I no longer dream in Arabic. The NSA might start eavesdropping on my sleep cycle.

I had a dream last night that I got an honest to god Super Bowl ring. For some reason, my friends and I were all given one for our contributions to the team. I asked the dude giving them out, "Do you have anything less gaudy?"

What do you suppose that means?

 
At 5:19 PM, April 25, 2006, Blogger Kat Coble said...

For some reason, my friends and I were all given one for our contributions to the team.

What team was this?

I hate to say it, but your dream sounds kinda, well, gay.

 
At 5:24 PM, April 25, 2006, Blogger Kat Coble said...

Jason, you're making my eyes bleed.

But to answer your question--basically everything. I dislike the word order, I dislike the clunky word construction.

My favourite example (which I've used here) is the Deutsche word for "nurse".

In English it's a nice, palliative word that shares the same root as "nurture."

In Deutsche, however, it's the klunky, ugly "krankenschwester". Or "Sick-tending sister." It's like a language conceived by aliens without any subtlety or beauty.

 
At 5:38 PM, April 25, 2006, Anonymous Sarcastro said...

The football team. Which, if I'm remembering correctly was the Oakland Raiders.

Gay? That's your answer for everything.

 
At 5:50 PM, April 25, 2006, Blogger Kat Coble said...

Gay? That's your answer for everything.

Nah. Just dreams involving men in tight pants and jewelry.

 
At 5:56 PM, April 25, 2006, Anonymous Sarcastro said...

There were no tight pants. Just a big tacky ring the size of a baby's fist.
http://ringselect.com/images/Patriots-Poster.jpg

Vlad Putin may like them, but my response in the dream was, "What the fuck am I going to do with this and why would I want one?"

 
At 6:05 PM, April 25, 2006, Blogger Kat Coble said...

Did they serve the beer in steins at Bosco's last night? Because some steins remind me of SB rings. They're that same kind of man-gaudy.

 
At 6:13 PM, April 25, 2006, Anonymous Sarcastro said...

No. They served them in 10 oz. glasses, I think.

Although, one member of the party was drinking from a stein.

 

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