Dream 9/23/09

I think his name was Gerald, or Ed, or one of those names commonly given to older men who live alone. I'll go with Gerald. Gerald lived alone in a small apartment that, at least at the time of my dream, was rather dark. He had, for some time, been employing a group of mice to cook him meal after meal. (Even though Gerald was a tall, extremely thin man, his appetite was voracious.) The mice created and served him a rotating set of courses that were grand in their preparation, but usually made of bland ingredients, such as potatoes, boiled eggs, and white bread. It's the way Gerald wanted it.

As Gerald sat shirtless (this was how I knew how thin he really was), long, bony limbs furiously orchestrating the procession of utensils from plate-to-mouth, the apartment suddenly grew darker and the walls began to shake. The mice were in a panic, and retreated to the sink where they spent most of their time when they weren't cooking. Without warning, water gurgled forth from the drain, flooded the sink basin, and then retreated back into the pipes, taking with it Gerald's rodent chefs. [Cut to view from inside the sink, looking up through the drain] The mice are swirling down into the green murky waters, grasping for something to cling to. They start to swim and I'm comforted by the realization that these might be mice that can breathe underwater. They disperse (off to a pipe that will lead them to safety/another sink exit?) and the view once again changes to Gerald's kitchen as he's standing over the sink trying to comprehend what just took place. He looks down into the cold, steel sink; red grapes are laying in the bottom. I believe that at this point dramatic violin music starts, interspersed with the musical tension of classic horror movies.

As Gerald peers into the drain, hints of something tan and brown begin to emerge from the shadows. What look like hairy, pocked sticks begin to unfold into view, and a bulging, uneven orb with black, lifeless eyes slowly rises... it's a sick, mutated spider! BOOM I'm in a theater watching a trailer for a new movie and I am screeeeaammming at the sight of this freak-creature coming towards Gerald—towards me! Somewhere, in the back row, someone is telling me to shut up.

Cravings!

We all get cravings—sometimes it's for ice cream, other times for pizza or chocolate. I often find myself getting sharp cravings for clothing. Not like, "Oh, I need a new leather jacket", but more specific. For example, last night as I was falling asleep, I unexpectedly felt an intense need to wear boots. Immediately.

Not just any boots—I had a specific vision: 80' lace-up ankle boots. But not just any 80's lace-up ankle boots... they had to have sweater cuffs. If I had had a pair in the freezer, I would have gotten out of bed and put them on at 1 am. And, I don't even like these types of boots! I don't know what came over me—but it's all I could think about for the rest of the night, spilling over into today. I guess I am suffering from the fashion equivalent of odd pregnancy cravings.