I rarely tell my parents what my dreams are made of, in large part because 1) it's rarely something they'd find interesting, and 2) they don't get that it's okay for dreams to be weird. I don't know if "weird" is right, because usually when I tell them a strange dream, my parents shake their heads and laugh at me, asking me if I'm on crack. It might be thoughtless of me to say this, but I doubt crack addicts remember their dreams. If they do, I'll bet they're horrifying.
[something like this]No, the only time I tell my dreams to my parents is if they're still haunting me years later, or if I'm trying to remember them because they were really cool.
Which brings me to my next point: we all easily remember the worst dreams we've ever had, and we often remember several of them, comparing whose subconscious is the most unsettling; but anytime I've ever had an especially cool dream, I have to work my butt off to remember it. Generally writing it down helps me, but only if I do it quickly before everything fades. Sometimes, if a dream is exceptionally cool, I'll remember it for a long time just by telling people about it.
Exhibit A: The Din Stalker. One night back in early high school, I had a dream that my sister Linden and I were at home alone, watching television. We heard a tapping at the window, and when we looked up all the blinds were gone from the windows, and this shadowy, creepy guy leered at us. We instinctively knew he was going after Linden, and we ran around to hide behind our big, heavy front door...which was gone. Every glass in our house that looked outside was now uncovered, providing dozens of ways for the Din Stalker to peer in. We hid all over the house, in every room, only to have that creeper looking in on us and waving menacingly. We finally ended up in my basement, eventually in the walk-in closet. I woke up just as the stalker was breaking the door down with an axe.End Result of Exhibit A: I prefer to keep the blinds closed when I'm at home, especially when I'm alone.
Exhibit B: Ioan Gruffudd. Around the same time as the Din Stalker Dream, I had a dream that I was walking around Churchill, knowing that Ioan Gruffudd was there. I don't remember exactly what happened, but we kissed and he said stuff and I don't even have real memories of it. I just have to tell myself what happened. Why can't I fully remember dreams as awesome as that?
End Result of Exhibit B: Frustration.
[I feel like Ioan is disappointed in me.]
[I feel like Ioan is disappointed in me.]Exhibit C: Forced Marriage. Probably senior year of high school, I had a dream that I was on my way to a church (Faith Lutheran, to be exact, probably because of my experiences there with Livonia Youth Choir) with my parents, dressed in all black. I didn't know why we were going, but it seemed ominous. We pulled up and I got out of the car in front of the church, where my old stand partner from Ward Church was waiting in a tux. Apparently we were going to be married. Now, I have nothing against the guy, but I have never been in any way attracted to him. I started crying and trying to get away, but they just dragged me into the church and I was forced to marry him.
End Result of Exhibit C: I always feel uncomfortable even talking to him on facebook, because whenever I think of him I think of that dream and get creeped out. He is in no way a creepy guy, but that's what happened.
Exhibit D: Series of Awesome Tally Hall Dreams. About 2 years ago, I had this awesome dream about Tally Hall performing in South Africa in the same place as the CMU Choir, and I got to help them set up, and Zubin started making out with me. The only reason I even remember this dream [which I'm not telling in great detail because it's long and complex] is because I told Liz and Monica and we discussed it at great length. A year ago I had a series of dreams one night involving Tally Hall, and they were completely. Awesome. I believe I wrote them all down and I know I told Kelsey and Liz, but apparently that wasn't enough because I only remember that after one concert I got to hang out with them, and then aliens attacked and Kelsey and Andrew and I were abducted and Kelsey and I defeated the aliens.
End Result of Exhibit D: Feeling like a fangirl, and knowing that I will never, ever post my dreams on the "Tally Hall Dreams" page of the Hidden in the Sand blogs.
Exhibit E: Zombie Mental Hospital. This one I remember in great detail because it was both scary and awesome, and I felt like a total badass when I woke up. Josh Graham and I ended up at this abandoned mental hospital and its grounds overrun by zombies. We holed up and found other survivors, and the zombies started to bust in at the sound of the music from the outside speakers (reminding me of Left 4 Dead). I was about to go all Samwise on them with a cast iron skillet when I woke up. It was a great dream.
End Result of Exhibit E: I feel that I will be ready for the zombie apocalypse, and worse, I think I could survive.
Heck, sometimes I even remember weird or awesome dreams my friends have had, particularly if they involve me, but sometimes that's not even required.
Exhibit A: Butterball Chicken. Kelli had a dream, probably in early high school or late middle school, that she and I were at the mall, and I killed someone with a butterball chicken. I'm not sure exactly how this was accomplished, or even if it was cooked, but these are the possibilities I can think of:
-bludgeoning someone to death
-stabbing someone with a leg
-tearing off the skin and strangliing someone with it
End Result of Exhibit A: Once again I feel quite wrongly like some kind of MacGyver who can kill anyone with anything, even a butterball chicken.
EDIT: After reading this Cracked article, I feel I could actually do this.
Exhibit B: Zombies with Josh 2: Electric Boogaloo. This time it was Josh Graham who had the dream where we were stuck together in the zombie apocalypse, but I got separated from him in a crowd and was ripped to pieces. He looked over, freaked out, and got away as quickly as possible. I would have been offended, but it was really the only logical choice.
End Result of Exhibit B: I am resigned to my probable fate should the zombie apocalypse ever occur. But that doesn't mean I won't go out with a bang.
[You're welcome.]Exhibit C: Suicide Party. A friend of mine recently had a dream that another friend of ours was having the usual crowd over to his house...for a suicide party. From what I gathered, he was going to commit suicide and he was just...having a party! And we were all acting like everything was normal, but I think the dreamer was kinda freaking out, which is how that all normally works.
End Result of Exhibit C: I am actually very shook up about this and more wary of my friends' emotions.
I had a dream the other night that was incredibly weird in its specificity, involving Kelli, myself, a murderer, other Daria characters, and members of our family. When I related it to my mother, she shook her head and said I was crazy. I'm sorry, if you're not having crazy dreams, then you're the weird one, not me.
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