Dreams

So, I've been having some weird dreams lately. I've been asking Snark's Mistress to analyze them for me, being the resident psych student among us. She was game at first, but even she is thinking "Bitch, you crazy!" at this point. I don't know what my subconscious is trying to tell me, but whatever it is, I'm thinking it's not good.

In the first dream, I was apparently bisexual, and was finding myself tempted to cheat on Oscar with a younger, much, much fatter Emma Thompson. I definitely had feelings for her and we tossed around the idea of running away together. It was kind of sad, though, because she was apparently not very popular in her peers' dating circles, and she seemed so surprised and so grateful that I had feelings for her. So you can imagine how devastating it was when I finally realized I couldn't leave my husband and told her we couldn't see each other anymore. I felt like an ass. (Well, I mean, that's a common theme, so I don't need any help analyzing that part. But if anyone can explain to me why I'd be thinking of turning gay for a fatter version of Emma Thompson, I'd appreciate the help. I mean, Salma Hayek is a no brainer, but as much as I love Emma, she's not tempting me away from my husband, particularly with a lot of extra pounds and really bad skin. Did I not mention the bad skin? Oh, yeah...It was nasty.)

Then I had this dream that I worked with Ellen Degeneres. Apparently, she was one of those people who thinks that because you work together, you need to be best friends, and was calling me all the time. I had expressed some frustration about this to Oscar. He said the next time she called, he'd rip her a new one. Fast forward several weeks. Ellen and I had apparently been getting along much better, but I failed to convey this to Oscar. She called to see if I wanted to go out and Oscar answered the phone. To my horror, he yelled and cursed and called her all sorts of names and I could tell that he was making her cry. I tried to track her down to apologize. I managed to find her in the second bedroom in our house. Weird, huh? You'd think I'd have noticed if Ellen Degeneres had moved into my home. We talked, but I never did get around to apologizing. I kept wanting to, but the words never came out. Then she took off to go do something and after that, I couldn't find her again. Weird, huh? You'd think I could have just gone back to the second bedroom in my house.

On a positive note, I also had a dream that I was on a first date with Michael Shanks. (If you don't know who Michael Shanks is, you clearly have not taken seriously my love of all things Stargate SG-1 and started watching it yourselves. To which I can only say, you are DEAD to me!) We were shyly smiling at each other and had that cute, awkward, I-really-like-you-but-I-don't-want-to-be-too-obvious-even-though-it's-written-all-over-my-face thing with each other. I don't know where Oscar was. Or Turtle. Or my Boyfriend. Or Michael's wife, for that matter. But damn were we cute together. But here's the problem with THAT dream....we didn't even get to the part where he kisses me at the front door. This is my DREAM! Where is my KISS??? Is he a bad kisser? Did I have bad breath? Was there something in my teeth? I mean, come on! I'm on a great first date with a hot guy who really seems to dig me and I can't even get a kiss, much less start rounding some serious bases? Why does my subconscious hate me so much?

So.....yeah. There's some odd stuff going on in the sub-levels of my brain. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be learning from any of this, particularly since, in my humble opinion, if I was going to learn anything, it should have been that Michael Shanks is an excellent kisser. But at least I'm getting to know some celebrities in my down time. Heh...if this keeps up, I'll have enough stars on my speed dial to be able to start a talk show. If Tyra can do it, it can't be THAT hard.