Little Nemo in Vampland: The Musical

So, I had a rather random dream last night. Like many dreams are wont to do, it sort of flipped from one storyline to another rather abruptly and illogically, though in the dream, of course, it seemed to make perfect sense. One moment I was trying to explain to my visiting mother that both the box of Medieval Times materials in the basement and the one in the hall closet were needed and neither could be thrown out. This was, of course, happening in a house that was both mine and not mine.

Next thing, I am arriving late at the opening of a musical version of Twilight in which, apparently, I am acting. For reasons unexplained, I was never involved in any of the rehearsals but am quickly put into a costume including a very bad wig and reminded that I’m playing the part of Frankie. Having never read or seen Twilight, I have no idea if a Frankie even exists in its context. (If I had internet where I am currently typing, I would check.) After faking my way through the opening scene by staying far stage right, and after somehow getting gum in my wig, I’m able to make an exit and find myself scrambling around backstage begging for someone to give me a copy of the script so I can figure out what I’m supposed to be doing in my next scene. Finally, my friend Tracy (who was apparently in the cast with me) gives me hers, but warns me that it’s a side and, lo and behold, there’s no Scene Three since her character doesn’t appear in it. Just as I’m throwing my arms up in the air and asking, “What do they expect me to do?”, I wake up.

Odd.

Open to Interpretation

Not long ago, I wrote about a curious motif I've often encountered in my dreaming life.

Last night, I had a dream which was downright disturbing.

In the dream, I'm standing on a city block doing goodness knows what, when suddenly a dog runs past being chased by a horse. The two animals race by me and around behind a brick building. A moment later, they appear out the other side, in a small parking lot between the buildings.

The horse catches up with the dog -- some brown and white mid-sized breed -- and bends down, picking it up by the back of the neck like a mother dog with her puppy. The dog is dangling there, presumably happy as a lark, while the horse carries it a few paces. The horse then lowers the dog and lifts it again, this time by putting the dog's head itself in the horse's mouth.

The dog starts kicking a little as the horse carries it a few more steps. Again the horse lowers its head, placing the dog on on the ground. With its hoof, the horse tips pulls the dog over onto its side, and holds it gently in place. The dog's tongue is lolling about and it just lies there, not scrambling or trying to get up.

That's when things go horribly wrong.

The horse bends down, opens its mouth, and bites the top off of the dog's head. It backs away a step, and the dog starts running around frantically, with nothing but a neck and lower jaw. The top half of the head is gone entirely, save for a ragged, bloody mess where it should be. The horse chews absently, gore and blood falling loosely from its mouth.

The dog's body goes around in frantic circles a few times. Its front legs buckle and it collapses in a heap.

A moment later, as happens in dreams, the dog is suddenly no longer a dog, but a teenaged girl, about 14 or so. She gets to her feet and wanders confusedly around the parking lot for a moment. She is clearly in a daze when she puts a hand to the back of her head, and discovers that there's a bloody hole where the crown of her head should be. She doesn't scream. She doesn't ask for help. She just looks around at the people gathered, wondering what on earth she should do.

That's when I woke up.

I Have a Dream

Occasionally I have dreams which one could describe as odd. Bizarre even. I once had an incredibly vivid dream in which I was in a video store shopping for Shelley Duvall's Faerie Tale Theatre episodes (I was even rather overjoyed when I found one I didn't have...I spend way too much time with either children or with Jasmine, who has the whole series on DVD). I looked down, and found a tiny red cat at my feet. Tiny, as in the size of a mouse. Red as in the colour of raspberries. Cat as in feline. I'm sure that was a symbol of something deep and psychotic, according to dreamologists, but hey, what do I care? I know that the cat played a much bigger part in the dream as a whole, but I've long since forgotten act two.

I've also had several disturbing dreams in which my pet tarantula (yes, I really do have a tarantula) has died in awful, disturbing, and generally upsetting ways. Once, Pamela Anderson was responsible for the death (don't ask me where that one came from) and I was SO angry with her, and lambasted her for being such an irresponsible clod. Recently, the dream version of the tarantula met its demise by having its hairs and exoskeleton start to degrade into a slimy substance until she just fell apart in my hands. Unpleasant, to say the least. Perhaps I worry that I'm not a good parent to my beloved arachnid.

But all of this is a digression from the dream I wish to share with you. I have recurring dreams which all contain variations on a theme. I've never heard anyone else discuss this dream motif, so perhaps it's unique to me. Just the other night, it popped up ...

In these dreams, I am generally chewing gum, though it's sometimes not gum at all, but food of some sort. It's really irrelevant, other than the fact that I have something in my mouth which is chewy. I'm never quite sure whether I'm stuffing more and more of it into my mouth, or whether it just somehow increases in volume on its own, but in any case, I eventually find myself with a mouth that's stuffed full of gum (or whatever). While I never have trouble breathing, a problem nonetheless arises. Sometimes it's that I am unable to converse with anyone, due to my disgusting mouth full of gum. Still other times, I suddenly realize that I'm about to meet someone for the first time and don't want to make the first impression that would undoubtedly come with an introduction with a mouth absolutely and cheek-stretchingly stuffed with gum.

So, I do the only thing I can possibly do at this point. I start grabbing at the gum (or whatever) and pulling it out of my mouth. (The other night, I was conveniently located in a dream bathroom, so I was throwing it into the garbage beside the toilet.) No matter how much I pull it out and throw it away, however, I am unable to get rid of it all. I can get rid of a bunch of it, making it easier to talk, but there's always gum left. There's too much to just lean over and spit it out. I can only keep sticking my fingers into my mouth and grabbing the disgusting stuff and throwing it out in a panic.

It's more disturbing than it sounds.

Perhaps I should go and be analyzed at some point. You know. In my spare time. (Hey, wait. Maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me that I'm packing too much into my life. One of my goals is learning to say "no" to more things so that I'm not running madly off my feet all the time.

And on that note, ROCKY rehearsals start this week. Plus I'm auditioning for a second show as well.

Maybe I just will never learn.