But us dream tellers are under the impression that our dreams are fascinating! pout
Plus annoying bf is funny…yeah you should see it when I list the real names and home planets of all the members of the Legion of Superheroes…
I don’t think I’ve ever had a dream where the laws of physics weren’t broken. I have a very, very rich dream life.
[total LSH hijack]
Jeeze, skim-read too fast - infectious lass, I knew I knew that name from somewhere. I used to read the LSH too. My favourite character was Timberwolf, when he wasn’t mooning over Ayla (Light Lass, but you knew that). I liked Starfire, too. And I wanted to be Dawnstar. Flying around between worlds on my gorgeous wings…
[/total hijack]
Dang it, Wildfire, not Starfire. Brain fart. Sorry.
No matter how many thousands of times I watch that, the “as usual” makes me laugh out loud EVERY TIME.
sigh God I love Black Adder.
I keep an online Dream Journal, but I don’t expect many people to read it. Mostly I really enjoy looking back over my dreams later, and writing them down lets me do that. I do tell some of my dreams to my husband, and he doesn’t seem to mind. I only tell him the ones that are at least vaguely coherant, though.
Only because none of you will ever see me in public commerce, I will relate my two most bizarre dreams.
Dream 1: While working (I’m a contractor) in a home occupied by a woman and her children, a fierce storm appoaches. Lightning bolts are splitting trees and the wind howls. We all huddle by an interior wall.
The following morning, everyone is gone, except me. I’m wearing firefighting turnout gear, and I’m looking around the area which surrounds the house. Burnt areas of grass and splintered trees abound. I see a small console with a joystick, not unlike that used for RC equipment, except it has a global sky cam view screen with crosshairs that I deduce is linked to the red button. After firing several rounds, I conclude that I have found the lightning control machine!
Hearing noise in the distance, I approach a farm. Laughter and talk is present. When I round the corner of a builidng, I see a modified game of baseball in progress, except all the participants are naked. Like baseball, a pitch is thrown and the hitter attempts a hit, but if a hit is made, rather than a simple running motion towards the base, the hitter must hop three times, and make a bunny like facial expression, after which he may hop another three times, the process repeating until the base is reached. Equal restrictions apply to those fielding the ball. Thus the Bunny Ball dream.
Several years later, while in a coma recovering from a nasty bike accident, I met a cat. We met in New York City, and he was a striking cat-imagine a 6 foot feline of the white tiger type, with piercing blue eyes. He wore a collar and tie and was well versed in the arts.
We discussed how sad it is that children are not being exposed to classical music, commiserated on the failure of WFLN, Philadelphia’s only commercial classical station, and the difficulties facing PBS.
He then invited me back to his penthouse to see a special on PBS and share some yummy chardonnay.
As we walked down the street, I learned that my new friend also had a lovely baritone voice and liked show tunes. He suddenly belted out, “I love New York in June, how about you? I love a Gershwin tune, how about you?”
No one looked askance at us, a stately cat with a lovely voice singing while walking with an ordinary man.
A couple of weeks ago, I dreamed I was assigned to assist a medical doctor execute an elderly man—I didn’t know until we met the man what my exact assignment was. I refused to help, walked down a long hallway and into a room where my father was lying dead on a table. Even though he was dead, he looked at me and spoke through his eyes, saying “I did not want to die.”
I actually had that dream—top it if you can—then I’ll tell you the one I had just a couple of nights ago.
So, back to the OP…
People who remember their dreams almost always imbue their dreams with passion and importance that cannot be appreciated by others because they “weren’t there.” It’s egocentric to think they will be listened to and reacted to with the same passion. Occasionally, some aspect(s) of a dream might interest another person. But generally…not.
I sympathize with you, MC$E. Not only to listen but to be constantly asked what you think it means I am sure is more than irritating. People always think their dreams are “so cool/so weird/so interesting”. They aren’t–except to the dreamers.
I remember dreams from each night and in great detail, but I wouldn’t bore people with them unless asked specifically (eg, have you ever had a dream about …). I rarely tell my sweetheart about them, unless I think they are particularly nifty.
People are mostly just annoying when they talk about their dreams. But I think it’s a little more difficult for you because it is your wife. She probably can’t understand how you can not find her dream life as important as she does.
Tee hee! Excellent refernce, Miller.
I had a very vivid dream in which one of my dear friends was a cop who caught me with a controlled substance during a routine traffic stop. I try not to tell people about my dreams, because I know how terribly boring they are, but that one was just hilarious. (In retrospect. When I was actually dreaming it, I was terrified about being arrested.) Now the poor guy is on the hook for something he never actually said: “Well, you know, the best way not to be busted for possession of marijuana is not to have any.”
…and I said, “Hey! Give me that pen!”
I love that song.
My dreams of course are fascinating and coherent, though I prefer to share them spontaneously, in the moment, by (e.g) sitting up in bed and yelling, “That’s cheating! You can’t do that in Scrabble!”
The people in the next apartment must wonder what the hell is going on sometimes.
Maybe I misread the OP and it really said “I don’t have any interest in the dream life of the woman I love, but please, please share your dreams with me.”
There are some older general and specific “share your dream” threads already around, or start one.
That cracked me up…
Maybe it wouldn’t annoy you, MC$E, so much if your wife didn’t go into great detail. But that is the thing with most people who remember vividly; they feel the need to mention (and get exactly right) every little detail. It can be torture to listen to someone’s dream (which you don’t care about in the first place) when it is filled with things like: “It was my house but not my house” (followed by description of similarities and differences). And “The dog was spewing green flames as he was reciting the alphabet backwards–no, the flames were blue…blue green… no the flames were actually turquoise and teal.” And so on.
It can be tedious. On the board you can skim and skip when someone writes about their dreams. In real life you’re kind of expected to react.
There are people who do well at interpreting dreams MC$E. Perhaps you could point your wife toward someone in your area. If she’s having a recurring dream then someone who knows how to interpret them can set her mind at ease, and release YOU from “dream-listening” duty. eh?