Tuesday, August 9, 2011


My favorite comedian, George Carlin, once said that nothing is as boring as someone describing their dream.

Ha. I can see that.

I mean, dreams aren’t (insert dramatic voice) *real life,* so it sort of is a waste of time hearing about how someone almost drove their car off a cliff or that everyone they know had turned into zombies and were playing kickball half dead. (uhhh for example.)

I, for one, have ridiculously vivid dreams - to the point that sometimes when I wake up, I don’t know what's real and what was part of a dream.

And then I have to lay in bed and weigh what's realistic or not. Like, “No, Jenny, your car probably did NOT get set on fire last night. But you can look outside anyway, just to be sure.”

I’ve actually been legit depressed waking up from a good dream and mad at people for how they treated me in a bad dream (Man I’m so fun!!)

A former boyfriend said he could never remember his dreams, good or bad. I never understood that.

What does he do? Just CHECK OUT for 8 hours?

No thoughts running through his head? No recapping the day, translated into a bizarre twisted sub-world where your childhood friend you haven’t seen in 20 years makes an appearance?

No re-occurring location that you’ve never actually seen in real life???

Geez. What’s HIS problem?

I read a disappointingly UN-informative magazine article about dreams the last time I was at the dentist.

The only things I learned were that 1.) women are more likely to remember their dreams than men because we’re more sensitive and creative, DUH, and 2.) if you actually die in a dream, that means you’re really screwed up in the head.

(I should probably buy a dream book, but I never remember the two times a year I go to Barnes and Noble.)

There’s no doubt that my dreams are a straight reflection of what was going on in my life that day.

On Saturday, for example, I told a story that involved a friend I no longer speak with, and sure enough, she was in my dream that night. With half a face.

Or, when I was on a beach vacation last month, I dreamt that I was….wait for it…AT THE BEACH.

But then again, us sensitive and creative vivid dreamers also have the complete WTF dreams that make no sense, and honestly scare me a little. (WHAT'S GOING ON, BRAIN??? WHAT DO YOU KNOW??)

Like last night, when I dreamt about a “STORM PATROL” parachute troupe that planned to drop their members onto Mardi Gras floats next year.


I’d tell you more about it, but…nothing would be more boring.


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