More Har, Less Binger

I'm having crazy dreams.  I'm sleeping worse than usual.  I'm being haunted by songs.  I'm not sure what's going on.  I mean, things are always bonkers.  There's always adventure.  But something different is going on right now.  

In chronological order, I present to you the dreams of March, largely as recorded in my Facebook statuses, with a little added commentary:

"Drakkar Noir Dreams and Whitesnake Slowdance Flashbacks. Thank you, "Talking to Your Kids About Sex", for triggering some sort of grade 7 synapse meltdown..." This is pretty self-explanatory.  This was the first dream in a long time that involved smells and specific songs.  I'd been sifting through some boxes for a bit of a job, and stumbled across a parent's guide to answering teens' questions about their burgeoning sexuality.  Naturally, I flipped through it.  

"Q: Can a boy get an erection while he's dancing?

A: Yes, it happens quite often"

other excellent Q/As include:

"Q: Will it hurt if I stick my finger in my vagina?

A: It won't hurt if you do it gently, but you shouldn't put any other things in that might scratch or might even poke a hole in it.  Remember your vagina stretches slowly, so put your finger in carefully.  And always wash your hands first." (After?  Not so much, apparently.)

"Q: How can I stand up and pee like boys?

A: For Girls: You can pee standing up if you spread your legs wide, right over the toilet, but if you get the seat wet you'll have to clean it up! Why don't you practice in the shower to see if you can do it without making a mess?  It's really easier for women to sit down." (For the record, I've actually never peed in the shower [but apparently everybody does??], and this is not a compelling enough reason to start.)

There are also answers to these questions: "Why does Aunt Alice have more pubic hair than you do?", and "Dad, when I went to the gym with you and Uncle Bill the other day, I saw how big your penises were.  I'm scared mine will never get big enough."  Frankly, these questions raise more questions.  My head hurts.

MOVING ON.  

Two nights later, I had a dream that, in order to cheer up a man I'd once dated (though we weren't dating in the dream), I agreed to do whatever he wanted.  He covered my face in a red nylon Canadiens jacket.  I thought he was going to go get me a surprise.  And then he surprised me by peeing on the jacket.

NEXT.

"Escalators like an Escher drawing, warm chocolate cake, cold hands, the snap of crisp cotton, Rolleiflex with a leaking lens, caramel light, and the smell of burned coffee. (As tangible as dreams can ever hope to be.)"  This was a good one.  Just...deeply...sensual.  That's a word I'm not really at ease with, but that's absolutely what this one was.  Really, really nice.)  

And then, for 5 fucking mornings in a row, I woke up with Master of Puppets in my head.  I was unable to shake it until noon all of those days.

NEXT.

"dream #1: i went to an 'erotic big top circus' that included old lady trapeze artists in purple plastic diapers. dream #2: 'scary sexy' dream that involved baseball, the south, and the hardy boys tv show. BUT! i woke up with 'enter sandman' instead of 'master of puppets'. does this count as victory?"  (No.  It doesn't, really.  Master of Puppets is way better than Enter Sandman.  Neither is morning music, unless you're camping.)

So then I started trying to listen to other stuff before bed....you know...to curate my dreams, and ditch the Metallica.

HENCE:

"Fell asleep listening to Lucrate Milk, woke up singing the 'ice cream cones cereal' jingle. COINCIDENCE?"  (So, that didn't really work.)

NEXT:

"whoa. just remembered a dream i had last night: i was on a dating game show. i had to choose from three guys. all three were dressed in full clown makeup. this is where i mention that i am terrified of clowns. way to be subtle, subconscious. yeesh."  (No comment necessary.  Obviously.)

LAST NIGHT:

"Went to bed too early. Had crazy dreams that I went to (basically) hipster woodstock and invented doowop harmonies. Wrote so many good songs in my dream and woke up and lost them all. My sleep is now worse than my waking time. GREAT." (So now, I guess I have to keep a tape recorder AND a notepad in bed with me.  Between the cookbooks and the phone and the piles of clean laundry, I'm running out of room, even though it's a big bed.)

Okay.  This is a pretty clear snapshot of everything, right?  Sigh.  

Today's pre-noon quote of the day: "Listen, I'm a total maneater, but at least I can fill out paperwork."

And yes, if you're wondering: I taped that tv show.  I'll let you know when it airs.  But I can't talk about it.  Yet.