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mamajoanI really need to learn to type up my dreams immediately upon waking, because otherwise I forgot a lot of the details. These are some dreams I've had recently; some of them sort of melted into each other so I'm recounting them basically in random order.
1. I am some sort of social worker or therapist visiting troubled children. I'm in an apartment building where there are three different kids to visit. There's someone else with me, my assistant or partner or something. I definitely dreamt visiting all three, but the only one I remember was this: The child is Lindsey (from the tv show "Angel") at age seven or so. He lives in a squalid one-room apartment with his abusive alcoholic father. The father is sitting or slumping on a chair while little Lindsey is lying on an unmade bed being sullen. I offer him a Twizzler but he doesn't take it because he's not hungry. Then, walking up or down the spiral staircase to get to the next child, I tell my assistant that I wish I could take custody of Lindsey away from his father, but since the child is obviously being fed, I can't legally do it. (Oh, and also, I think little-Lindsey was also my mom's cat Nomar.)
I think one of the other children I visited is Wesley from "Angel." Later in the dream, I am the real me again and the above was a dream I had. Now I'm at a party with a cute blond teenage boy -- possibly Whitney from "Smallville." He's either my boyfriend, or my almost-boyfriend, or something -- we're flirting. I tell him about the dream with the children, and I tell him that it's given me an idea to write a Lindsey/Wesley slash story (possibly with them still as children in the story). Whitney, or whoever he is, is horrified by this idea, in a sort of "teenager horrified by any mention of sex from an older person" way. He says I mayn't write the story. I say, "I'll show you my tits," and he says, "okay then." I laugh at him and think to myself that you can get a teenage boy to agree to anything if it means he gets to see tits.
2. Later, or earlier, that same night, I dreamt that I was in my apartment and the phone rang. When I answer it, it's Gaby (in RL, a very nice lady in my choir who was hospitalized last week). I ask her how she's doing and she says she's home, released from hospital and doing fine. She wants to talk to my mom so I hand the phone to mom.
3. Possibly as part of the previous, I also dreamt that my mom and I were cooking something in a weird apartment that was laid out like mine but wasn't. In the kitchen, the oven was placed up against a counter so that in order to open the oven you had to push it back, and even then it would only open a little bit. Then a little farther along there was a washer and dryer that stuck way out into the middle of the room, leaving just a narrow aisle between them and the counter and oven. My mom was cooking something, and my brother was doing something in the bedroom, and I was trying to hang curtains, and trying to decide where to hang a particular curtain, and my brother was helping. Or something. I forget.
By the way, I take no responsibility for the vagaries of my subconscious. ;)
1. I am some sort of social worker or therapist visiting troubled children. I'm in an apartment building where there are three different kids to visit. There's someone else with me, my assistant or partner or something. I definitely dreamt visiting all three, but the only one I remember was this: The child is Lindsey (from the tv show "Angel") at age seven or so. He lives in a squalid one-room apartment with his abusive alcoholic father. The father is sitting or slumping on a chair while little Lindsey is lying on an unmade bed being sullen. I offer him a Twizzler but he doesn't take it because he's not hungry. Then, walking up or down the spiral staircase to get to the next child, I tell my assistant that I wish I could take custody of Lindsey away from his father, but since the child is obviously being fed, I can't legally do it. (Oh, and also, I think little-Lindsey was also my mom's cat Nomar.)
I think one of the other children I visited is Wesley from "Angel." Later in the dream, I am the real me again and the above was a dream I had. Now I'm at a party with a cute blond teenage boy -- possibly Whitney from "Smallville." He's either my boyfriend, or my almost-boyfriend, or something -- we're flirting. I tell him about the dream with the children, and I tell him that it's given me an idea to write a Lindsey/Wesley slash story (possibly with them still as children in the story). Whitney, or whoever he is, is horrified by this idea, in a sort of "teenager horrified by any mention of sex from an older person" way. He says I mayn't write the story. I say, "I'll show you my tits," and he says, "okay then." I laugh at him and think to myself that you can get a teenage boy to agree to anything if it means he gets to see tits.
2. Later, or earlier, that same night, I dreamt that I was in my apartment and the phone rang. When I answer it, it's Gaby (in RL, a very nice lady in my choir who was hospitalized last week). I ask her how she's doing and she says she's home, released from hospital and doing fine. She wants to talk to my mom so I hand the phone to mom.
3. Possibly as part of the previous, I also dreamt that my mom and I were cooking something in a weird apartment that was laid out like mine but wasn't. In the kitchen, the oven was placed up against a counter so that in order to open the oven you had to push it back, and even then it would only open a little bit. Then a little farther along there was a washer and dryer that stuck way out into the middle of the room, leaving just a narrow aisle between them and the counter and oven. My mom was cooking something, and my brother was doing something in the bedroom, and I was trying to hang curtains, and trying to decide where to hang a particular curtain, and my brother was helping. Or something. I forget.
By the way, I take no responsibility for the vagaries of my subconscious. ;)
