I was in an alpine forest and there was some sort of big meeting at a cabin. I was with the Prime Minister of Japan and the President of Egypt. Somehow the cabin caught on fire and we had to go get help, so I grabbed a bread rolling pin from the kitchen and it became as big as a small car. There where three seats cut into the roller like a WWI biplane and I swung it around a few times and the three of us flew it around the forest trying to avoid the trees.
A nightmare: I dreamed I was living in an expensive NYC high rise and Mick Jagger lived in the same building. (It is important to understand that I loathe Mick Jagger.) He developed a raging crush on me, much to my horror.
The thought of Mick Jagger having a crush on a 48-year-old housewife is pretty hysterical.
It’s not wierd, it’s just … “Spirit Wars: The Musical.”
I have three really weird recurring dreams, and they seem to run in a three-night cycle.
First, I dream about having to take a long road trip. Inevitably, the car deteriorates rapidly during the journey, or I become very confused about the route I have to take. At any rate, I never seem to get where I’m going.
A night or two later I have the House Dream – my wife and I are moving into or have moved into a house and we discover previously unknown spaces. Sometimes the spaces are spacious, beautifully appointed sunrooms, dining rooms, or master bedroom suites; sometimes they’re vast unfinished spaces (basements, attics, etc.), sometimes they’re dilapidated, leaky rooms that ruin the whole house.
After that comes the back-in-the-Army dream in which I’ve been recalled into the Army and assigned to my old post in Germany. But the uniforms are all different, the equipment has completely changed, I never really know what my rank is, and no matter how patiently I wait for things to get straightened out, they just get more and more fucked up. A variation of that dream has begun occurring in the past year or so in which I’m not in the Army, but in the Navy, aboard ship, and in a world completely alien to me.
The weirdness is not so much the dreams themselves (which are always vivid and involve elaborate story lines that I can never quite remember) but the fact that they recur in that cycle.