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February 15, 2011

My dream from last night involved menstruation, and while I find it fascinating that the brain and body are in tune in a way that allows dreams to predict one’s monthly cycle, my guess is that at least a few of you don’t care too much about my connection to the moon or the Earth Mother (what a shame!). Maybe I’ll have a special period/pregnant dream day, when you can all send me your weird period and pregnancy dreams. I’ve got it: send them to me as they happen, and I’ll post them all in a giant entry on May Day (what better day to be connected to the nurturing spirits of the earth?). At any rate, you won’t be hearing about it any further than that.

What I’m trying to say is, the following dream is actually from Sunday night into Monday, but because Monday was for guests, I’ve saved it for you today, thus sparing you from a detailed account of Aunt Flo.

It begins with myself, Lisa, and Aubrey in a car, frantically searching for a parking spot in a giant crowded lot. We’re at the beach and it’s pouring rain, but we really want to be there because of a hot dog stand we’ve heard about (presumably on Phantom Gourmet). After driving around for what seems like hours, we find a spot. It takes a long time to walk across the lot to the stand, but we all agree that the discomfort of wearing soggy flip-flops will be worth it in the end. When we get to the hot dog stand, it’s actually a tiny restaurant, something of a snack shack, all made of wood. It’s very dark inside, and reminds me of a wee ski lodge. We order our food, sit down, and begin discussing wish-making. Lisa has heard of a girl who knew someone who’s brother once had a wish granted. It seems like a tall tale to Aubrey and I, who are having a hard time believing that wishes ever get fulfilled.

After we have eaten our hot dogs (covered in cheese and beans and all kinds of delightful fixings), we walk over to a poster of Wayne Brady to try and prove Lisa’s wishing theory. Lisa stands next to the poster (in the dream, Wayne Brady is a 7-foot-tall basketball player) and we help measure her against it, saying that she’s about up to his armpit (not true). Just as Aubrey and I start to measure ourselves against the poster, Wayne Brady’s image becomes flesh, and he pops out of the picture flashing his signature grin. We all scream excitedly, because Wayne can sing and dance and is an excellent improv artist. Also, he has a nice bum–we can tell because he is wearing very little clothing. Lisa yelps out, “Wishes DO come true!” We all agree whole-heartedly.

Later, I am in an area of the beach that has seen a lot of snowfall. Lisa and Aubrey are gone, but my parents (and my hot dog) are there. I have built a giant mountain out of the snow–it’s my “wishing pile.” I just throw whatever I want in there, eat a bite of the hot dog and make a wish, then whatever is in the mountain turns into what I want. For example: I throw a cat into the pile, then take a bite of hot dog, wishing the cat to turn into a cow. Inside the snow mountain, there are flashes of lightning and color, and a few minutes later, I look inside a hole  to see a full-sized cow waiting for me to come get it. My dad sees that I’m jumping around shouting about my success, and comes to see the wishing pile with his own eyes. I pull the cow out and show him, but he thinks I might have had her in there the whole time. To counteract his disbelief, I try to push the cow back into the mountain, but it’s proving quite difficult, as the cow is stubborn. I feel a mix of frustration and regret as I push and push to move the cow into the snow. I finally get her in far enough that she is stuck and I can escape to make a new wish, but when it’s time I can’t find the magical hot dog. I search and search for the hot dog stand but can’t find it. Upon my return,  Dad scolds me for leaving a cow stuck in the snow. I feel despair at not being able to prove that my wish came true.

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