Today's word: dreamcheater. Definition: I don't think this is actually a word, but it should be. One who engages in imaginary romantic affairs in their sleep, despite being attached in their waking life.
OK, so halfway through today I remembered that I had a great dream last night about George Clooney. I love it when I don't recall things like this until mid-morning. It's like Christmas. Only instead of a crappy holiday sweater, I got to unwrap God's gift to women.
Unfortunately, it wasn't a steamy dream. Here's the scenario: I was outdoors, I saw his adorable little dog running wild, and I snagged it off the sidewalk so I could return it to him. I'm pretty sure this was premeditated; although I am a dog lover, I loves me some Clooney even more. Anyway, I then got to lounge around on his couch with him while he thanked me and flirted with me. Dammit, even in my dreams I'm not easy!
You know, I have a happily married friend who dreamcheats all the time. It's unbelievable. And it's not even with movie stars or made-up men .. it's with actual boyfriends from her past. I'm not passing judgment. As long as these guys confine themselves to REM, more power to her. I'm just disappointed that, as a single girl, I rarely take the opportunity to get freaky even when I'm asleep.
Of course, my dreams are freaky in all sorts of other ways. I dream every night, without exception, vividly. I may not always remember every moment, but I never wake up without having undergone what felt like hours and hours of either an adventure or an ordeal. I dream in color. I have recurring dreams. I can still remember ridiculous dreams I had as a kid. And though I'm 31 years old, I cannot seem to dream about any house other than the one I grew up in.
Sometimes I have nightmares. But this, I think, you'd have to expect. Take the bad with the good. If I get to occasionally wake up actually laughing, I have to pay my dues by jolting awake short of breath, my heart pounding through my shirt. My nightmares typically revolve around being chased, and wouldn't you know it, I can never run at a normal speed, because my legs feel like they each weigh 200 lbs. I'm just glad I don't have my mom's recurring nightmare of being in someone's house, though you know you're not supposed to be, and hearing them come home. Shudder.
So what do they mean? Beats me. I don't think that subconsciously I'm trying to run from a haunting past or that my mom is secretly a cat burglar . . . although she does own a suspiciously large amount of silver and ski masks. I'm not sure there's too much value in deciphering the junk our minds spit up and play around with at night. But it sure can be amusing. Here's one of the funniest dreams I've ever had (I've never been able to tell this story in person without crying laughing, so I hope typing it goes better.)
Sidenote: I had this dream while living in Japan, and you'll understand the references soon enough. It occurred about five hours after having a horrifyingly slimy and gelatinous meal with all the teachers at my school, and about a week after watching "Jurassic Park" on English TV.
The dream: I'm in a shopping center, and Godzilla is attacking the city. (I'm not making this up.) Everybody is screaming, and I head out of the mall to run for my life, but not before pausing to convince two teenage boys to stop looting an electronics store and run for their lives. I burst out into the street and look up, and there's Godzilla, looking suspiciously like the T-Rex from Spielberg's movie. And then, right in the middle of all the chaos, he sweeps his head down low over the hordes of shrieking people, and he growls very loudly and slowly, "Motherfuckers!"
I don't know what's funnier -- that he can talk at all, or that it came out like a roar, or that of all things, that expletive most perfectly expresses his feelings at that exact moment. Whatever it was, this dream was similar to my dream last night, in that I didn't remember it until halfway through the next afternoon. Everyone looked at me funny when I started crying while laughing in the teachers' room at school (for no apparent reason), but then again, they looked at me funny most of the time.
Isn't it crazy how dreams, or just the sense of them, can stay with you? Sometimes you get up and go to work and just feel weird all day. It's even worse when you've dreamed about someone from work. And it's downright awkward if you've had a sex dream about them. It's also strange to still be mad at someone for something they did in a dream. My sister once couldn't talk to me for two days because I'd done something unforgivable in her subconscious ... completely made up and entirely untrue, but unforgivable.
But we can't help it, can we. They seem real, our feelings are real. We have no control over what pops out when we shut our eyes. If we did, I'd be flying all night every night. With a layover at George's house. Pun intended.