January 26, 2007

• Dreaming

  I dreamt last night that I was the only living person in Paris. I woke alone in a hotel and went out to look for Shaun. He was gone, as was everyone else. It was just me: the last woman on earth.

  I walked through a museum and stumbled upon the Mona Lisa. Alone and unseen, I touched her lips with my fingertips to feel the paint.

  I had another dream that my brother Anthony was violently ill. In real life, last night was Burns Night. Traditionally, people eat haggis on Burns Night, but that sort of makes me gag, so we ate our neeps and tatties with low fat apple chicken sausages instead. Anyhow, I usually soak the pan in soap and boiling water before scrubbing it down properly. During the soak, white fats and yellowish juices glob and cluster and float in a way that gives me yet another reminder of why I hate meat cooked in our home. (Speaking of which, how sick is it that the FDA doesn’t have to put a label on meat that comes from cloned animals? I think that issue is probably the one and only thing that conservatives and liberals and all in between can come together in a collective “gross!” over. Even if scientists think it is same (eventhough we don’t know that over the long term), its icky!!!)

  Anyhow, back to my brother. In the dream, he was living with his girlfriend in a nice two-storey home with a rec room on the bottom floor. A sliding glass door took you out to a patio with a pool. I was over and excited to get to know his girlfriend better. My brother, the girlfriend, and I were all chatting in the sun and drinking iced tea. But periodically, Anthony would go to the pool and into it, vomit huge quantities of the same gross, globby liquid that was in my soaking Burns Night sausage pan. I wanted to pull away from the girlfriend to take my brother to the hospital, but she seemed to always hold me back somehow, like she wanted me to think everything was fine or something.

  Finally, I broke away to go into the rec room to call an ambulance, but I was distracted by the sight of my brother Julian rolling joints at the table. I walked over, grabbed his drugs and stormed into the bathroom to flush everything. He just sat at the table, looking sorry. I grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “I never, ever want to see you doing that. That is not okay.” Then I went on about how we needed to call paramedics and we couldn’t invite someone official like that over with drugs lying around.

  I was getting really worked up at this point and I must have woken myself up.

  “Do you think my brothers are okay?” I asked Shaun.
  “Mmm hmm.” He slumbered.

  But I couldn’t get back to sleep.
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  Do you ever have scary dreams that you can’t shake?

  ::Random Tangent::
  Our flight leaves for France at 4.00 today. We’re all packed and ready. I think 4.00 is the perfect flight time. No more of this getting up super, stupidly early crap. It’s afternoon flying for me.

  • 5:25 am
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