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my friend gabby

January 21, 2011

Last night’s dream wasn’t as entertaining as I had hoped it would be for the first post of a dream blog. But, in the interest of truthfulness,and also to inspire people who have dreams that mostly mimic real-life situations, I’m posting it.

I am at an awards show, most likely the Golden Globes, as there are both movie and television people there. I have the sense that I was invited to be there, and get to sit on the far right in the front as a result. I notice that my friends Lisa and Nancy are also in the audience, but far to the left (the area where people who had to buy their tickets sit).

The cast of Glee is called up to do a performance, and I go up with them; I’m singing backup for Lea Michele in a Gleeful rendition of “Tell Him.” Lea is sucking and I’m doing great until I look up at the monitor and realize I’m still wearing my orange crocheted winter hat. I touch it, trying to will it to disappear, but it doesn’t. Lea’s voice gets stronger and better, while mine falters and fades. I walk off stage before the end of the song, which is fine because Lea Michele doesn’t like me, my voice, or my shoes anyway (and let’s be serious, I hate her). I go to sit with Lisa and Nancy, but because I don’t have a ticket there’s no seat for me. I go to leave and suddenly…

DREAM SHIFT!

I’m in the house of a girl I went to Jr. High with. We’re in the kitchen, doing our hair. We barely know each other but she claims we are friends through a person named “Gabby.” We start to talk about the awards and my hat, but we move on to thinking about going out on the town to get tattoos. She wants a giant snowflake on her back, and I tell her it’s a great idea.

I go to another room to get my stuff, look in the mirror and see new moles on my right shoulder. They peel off when I scratch at them, and I’m slightly disgusted and hope they aren’t cancer. The girl who knows Gabby comes in and confirms what I fear: that I’ll mostly likely die, so let’s get tattoos.

Note: I know, I know. I once had a dream in high school where my house was just wooden beams and there were babies floating in a green mist. Where did dreams like that go? I wonder if it’s because I’ve been living a pretty sedentary life that my dreams are a little more, shall we say, tame.

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