Does everyone have awful intense dreams like I do? I watched that new Showtime series Out of Order last night - clearly an SFU rip-off in terms of marketing, but, tell you what, it held my attention straight through and I laughed out loud a couple of times; Eric Stolz and Felicity Huffman are great and I will watch anything William H. Macy is in for even five seconds, which is exactly the case for this show - and there was a scene where Eric Stolz' character dreams that his little kid has turned into the kid from The Shining, the one who says, "Red Rum." Only in this case he says, "Rail," which, of course, spells "Liar" backwards. And then Eric Stolz' pants were on fire. And I was like, "Damn, those are my fucked up dreams you're having." Mine never involve midgets or anything like that, but they're fiery and intense and if you've ever slept next to me you know I toss and turn quite a bit.

Today I had about eighty dreams going on at once, especially since I also watched Eight-Legged Freaks yesterday (Yea I know, stop watching scary movies and adult "dramedies" and you'll sleep better at night.), which is all about disgusting giant spiders taking over this small town. It was kind of a funny movie I must admit, but spiders scare the hell out of me, largely because when I was probably three or four, my brother told me that all of the spiders that lived near our house were Black Widows, and that if any one of them bit me I would die a horrible death. What a little jerk he was. I know, I know, this is what big brothers do to little sisters, they fuck with them. I'm sure people have had worse things happen to them. I am still scared of them though. Black Widows!

Anyway so there were spiders all over my dreams, running through each one, so that at any moment there would be another dream starting, triggered by a rush of spiders spilling forward, stampeding for their lives. I wonder who was chasing them. So it went from a guy I dated in college giving me a tour of downtown Baltimore from the top of a bus, to sandstorms on the roof of my building, to something sexual that I elect not to share with you, all with spiders scuttling through, so each dream swung in and out. It was definitely like a bad music video. With spiders. Completely horrible and cool at the same time.

And then I woke up and I thought my cat was going to fall off the loft and die. He was hanging off the edge with his two little paws, looking at me with fear in his eyes, and making those scared kitty noises. And I was thinking, damn, those are strong little paws he's got there, how is he doing that? No, really I thought, I must save the kitty, and I reached out to grab him, and then I heard a bunch of things fall to the ground. Then I realized he wasn't dying, he was fucking around with the wind-up toys on the top of the bookshelf next to the loft, and then was just trying to get back up again, so he could poke me with his paws and wake me up.

This kitty is bad. He disturbs my spider dreams and messes with my wind-up toys. He is an unstoppable force.

archives | w-w home | mail