Bears

It's all very vague...I remember that I was going to be attacked by a grizzly bear. I knew that once I was attacked, I'd die. I walked around and kept running into bears. I thought each and every one would be a grizzly, but they all ended up being small black or brown bears. I was terrified, and I didn't want to die, but I knew it was inevitable. I knew that at some point I'd be attacked by a grizzly bear. I spent the whole dream being really scared and walking around looking for bears, getting ready to die.

Busy Night

Snippets from last night...

I was in Ireland, looking through a window at a wide, green landscape. I kept thinking to myself "It's so weird how landscapes in Ireland are sort of blurry...the lines aren't clear, and everything is sort of fuzzed together." It was like one of those pictures that's made of yarn or something. I then took a step back and realized I was looking through a textured window, like one you'd have in the bathroom.

I looked to my right and saw mountains, but one looked like it had a chunk cut out of its side. In real life, it would have fallen over, but it stood just fine.

My cousin Elizabeth and I were walking down a dirt path, surrounded by trees and mountains, and she was asking me why I didn't ever talk about that thing that happened on the 6th grade field trip to Wisconsin. I thought for a moment, and realized she was talking about when I was standing either on a balcony or next to an open window and my teacher, Miss Parsons, pushed me out. As I thought about it, I wondered if it had really happened. Did I fall in the bushes? I don't know...

I couldn't find my car.

I saw Adam at the Crystal and kept telling him I had to leave. I couldn't stop thinking about his feet because of this (grossness ahead, be warned).

I'm researching whether antibiotics affect your dreams...so far, nothing...

Just Remembered More

I just remembered three more parts of my dream last night:

1. I had a wonderful revelation about how much I loved mild cheddar cheese, and decided that I should buy that at the store more often

2. I was dyeing my hair on my own and I left it in for over an hour, and after I washed it out in the shower, it was still pink and not purple like I wanted it.

3. I pulled my pajama pants up over my boobs and wore them like a onesie. My sister used to do this when we were younger and we called her "The Woomba Monster." She would chase us around the backyard like this...

Reboot

I was in a restaurant with El Capitan in Ecuador. They were serving Manhattans for $1.98 so I ordered a double. The waiter told me he would have to close the restaurant and open it again to serve me alcohol. I felt guilty that the patrons would need to leave and come back to cold meals so I wanted to change my order to a water, but El Capitan was all about some Fibonacci spiral shots so he ordered his regular 1, 1, and 2 shots of rum to start it off...
[Footnote: I have not drank a drop of alcohol in 8 days, which is obvious in this dream as well as the longest time in the last year plus...]

Bits and Pieces

I don't remember any continuity in this dream, or hardly any details. But it's sticking in my mind.

I ate a banana. It was the most delicious thing I'd ever eaten. I contemplated having another.

I was in a crowded room with Breena, and Fred walked by. He was talking but I couldn't understand the words he was saying, although they were in English.

I was reading over my friend's shoulder. He was writing on his computer. He didn't know I was there, but it wasn't like I was spying. It was okay that I was reading it. Here's what I remember:

I keep hinting to Reem about the writing. She won't pick up on it. It's always got to be about love, but she doesn't even trust love. It's always love, never like.

Then it said something like "fleesch."

I woke up in a crabby mood.

Kristi the Gem Poached Eggs for Me, the Jerk

I had this long involved and hilarious dream last night but I'm struggling to remember more than this one piece. In the piece I remember I was kind of a jerk I'm embarrassed and pretty amused to say. I called my friend Kristi - who with her lovely hubby threw a fabulous Dirty Santa party last night - and demanded that she cook eggs for all the party guests on the following morning to help with our hangovers. Kristi, being the gem she is, agreed and then we were all back at their house sitting on bar stools waiting impatiently for Kristi to make us eggs.

And as if I hadn't been enough of brat, I then insist that Kristi poach the eggs because "it is SOOO much healthier that way". So dear Kristi starts poaching eggs, one by one in boiling water. She carefully lifts the wobbly eggs out from the water and lays them on a porcelain white platter.

And that's all I can remember at this moment other than at one point we were all at Manuel's Tavern (a political mainstay in Atlanta) and my sister lobbyist friend Shelley and I escape from a creepy legislator via an elevator that has no walls, the carpeted floor just starts falling or rising.