Nothing, but you wouldn’t know it from the dreams I’ve had the past few days.
I am always a vivid dreamer, but lately, I wonder what in the hell is going on inside my subconscious. I won’t even go into last night’s strange, fragmented dreams – they were too weird to pass on to the world.
The night before, however, is a different story. I’ll give you the cliff notes version (because, honestly, no one ever wants to hear another person’s dreams, unless you happen to be a psychic or something).
My husband and I were in a big building not far from where I used to live in Hollywood. People were everywhere, seeking shelter from an outbreak of some sort (I referred to it as zombies when I relayed this to my husband, but that really wasn’t what they were. They looked just like people, but whenever they opened their mouths, four incredibly long, dark purple tongues shot out. My husband said it sounded more like an invasion of the body snatchers than zombies). Anyway, the zombie/body snatcher people made it to this building where we hid, and everyone had to evacuate. My husband and I got separated, and outside, people kept telling me I had to leave anyway, but I refused. Just as the hysteria reached critical mass, a group of people ran from the building, and my man was among them.
Cool, now I could go.
So the plan was that we were all going to run to Lancaster, which seems like a crappy plan, because it’s like 60 miles away from Hollywood. That is a long way to run. Anyway, my husband told me he was going to go ahead of the group and scout things out. Suddenly he was in track shorts. You know how, at the Olympics, they shoot the gun or sound the buzzer or whatever, and all the track people take off like bats out of hell? Their legs move quicker than you’d think was humanly possible? Well that’s how my husband look as he ran off – all I could see was ass and elbows. When I tried to follow, I discovered I couldn’t run. Someone dressed like a referee walked up to me and said I needed to pick up the pace if I wanted to live, but no matter what I did, my feet would hardly move. For whatever reason, I decided to try and run backwards, which worked, and I ran with my head turned looking behind me down the 101 highway. While all this may sound nightmarish, in my dream I wasn’t particularly scared.
So last night while trying to fall asleep, I started thinking about that dream. What I found most odd about it was not the zombie/body snatcher people, or the fact that I could only run backwards, but my husband running. I realized that, in our seven and a half years together, I’ve never seen him run. Well, he’s done a sort of half run with Spazzy, but he’s 6’3”, and she weighs 10 pounds, so he isn’t exactly sprinting. He spends most of the time looking down at her to make sure his feet are nowhere near her tiny legs. So really, the dog run is more along the lines of a fake run. You know, that half run people do when they go through a crosswalk after the hand starts blinking – the, I’m-gonna-move-my-arms-like-I’m-running-but-my-legs-are-pretty-much-walking, run?
Well I think that’s weird. Not the fake run, but that I’ve never seen my husband run. How is that possible? How have I never once seen him run, not to or from anything, in all the years we’ve been together? And then I started thinking, has he ever seen me run? The answer is no, I don’t believe he has.
And this thought kept me up last night. What other acts have we not witnessed the other doing? Countless ones, obviously, but I’m talking about normal things, like running. This, of course, prompted me to try and formulate a list of what constitutes normal. Do somersaults count?
Geez, it’s seven in the morning, and I already need a nap.
Well, obviously your subconscious is telling you that you and your husband need to train for a marathon together. Right?
I had crazy dreams when I had the flu. It’s more a feeling of drowning in some sort of sludge with hypercolorful and vivid images being hurled at your cerebral cortex, than dreaming, but man does it make you feel crazy.
Dear Misty,
No. That is not what her subconscious is telling her.
You have quite the sadistic streak, don’t you…
//telescope
Love,
Dani
I know, right? I thought the same thing.
Oh no. No no no. We are not the marathon type of couple.
I look a fool when I run, so it wasn’t until the boy challenged me, to make sure I could actually run in case of zombie apocalypse, that he ever saw me do it. Really, after nearly 6 years he was certain that it just wasn’t possible for me to run. I proved him wrong, and he said I didn’t look that foolish. Him I’ve seen, mostly in is previous attempts to get me to do it.
I can’t imagine what else there is to see him do…
I don’t know what I look like when I run, so let’s pretend it’s graceful. BWAHAHA! Yeah, I can’t even type that with a straight face.
I don’t do running. Ever. Even in my dreams, where I generally spend the majority of the time trying to talk but not being able to formulate words. (True story. I dream frequently about trying to talk but I CAN’T. It’s horrifying.)
So anyway, my husband has never seen me run.
I think your dream was trying to tell you that going to Lancaster is totally going backwards, because let’s face it… it’s a hole. Why your husband was in such a hot hurry to get there shall forever remain a mystery.
xo
Oh I have the not being able to talk dreams too! Those suck.
I think I’ve only ever driven through Lancaster, I haven’t a clue as to why that was the safe haven in my dream.
C’mon, admit it. You’ve been smoking jimsonweed.
Do dreams ever scare you? For whatever reason (actually, I know why), I don’t have nightmares. I’m always aware that I’m dreaming.
Sometimes they are terrifying, and remain that way until I wake. And sometimes they are scary, and then I realize it’s only a dream and continue on with the knowledge that none of it is real. Then there are others that one might think constitute scary, but seem totally normal.
I have a vague recollection that you active dream, or whatever you call it. Did you write a post about that at some point? Was it something you taught yourself, or have you always done it?
Huh, I might have posted about that. (Uncertainty is apparently the cost of having diarrhea of the keyboard.)
When I was 10 I dabbled in lucid dreaming techniques. While I had some very limited success with that, an unintended consequence was that now I always know when I’m dreaming.
Not to totally freak you out, but you’d need to know…exceptionally vivid, long, and odd dreams are common in pregnancy. Much more so than the early stage fainting movies and tv shows use to hint that a character might be pregnant. Topic doesn’t matter so much as the sharpness and clarity. If the dream was also vivid in the had more rich color than your normal dreams sense, then you should probably swing by a drugstore just to see if your life snow globe just got a vigorous shake.
“Not to totally freak you out”
Um, that definitely falls under the freak out category.
Yeah, I know. It’s kinda like telling someone “With all due respect…” when you are getting ready to heartily disagree. I used it more as a warning of what was to come. It seemed better than just cutting to the chase.
On the bright side, if that happens to the case, you have a better story than a girlfriend of mine who first realized she was pregnant due to excessive gas. It makes digestion sluggish, which produces gas… I’m not helping, am I? Right. I’ll go to bed now.
The oddest dream I ever had was the dream about the paraplegic werewolf and his boyfriend. The paraplegic had been bitten, so he would turn into a werewolf- which of course meant that his legs worked again so then he had to go terrorize the city. Except that meant his boyfriend had to chase him through downtown whereever with his wheel chair, waiting for him to turn back into a person again.
I am absolutely not kidding that I dreamed this.
I dreamed about gay lovers where one of them was wheelchair bound and also a werewolf.
I am not normal.
You need to write a short story about that.
Sometimes I dream about flying crap.
Like, crap that flies. Not crap that I pilot.
Just to be perfectly clear….
Actual crap? Or, like, random crap?
Either way, that’s weird.
The ONLY reason I’ve seen my husband run is because of chasing down loose dogs, and that’s the only reason he’s seen me run. I would also run from four-tongued infested humanoids but I’ve not had the chance, luckily.
Yeah, me neither. But it’s good to know I have a plan if and when the opportunity arises. It’s not a good plan, but it’s better than nothing. I think.