Wednesday, 21 January 2009


Just in case there were any residual doubts about me being a normal person, I can now tell you with a large degree of certainty that ship has definitely sailed.

For the last two nights in a row I have woken up at some ungodly hour in the morning having had a nightmare. Yeah, Yeah, 22 going on 6... The most unsettling part of the experience, I feel, is trying to put together the slipping shards of the night before and coming to the sad conclusion that I am cracking up! Losing my marbles! A few ants short a picnic!

Let’s examine together, shall we?

Monday Night - I am living by myself in some sort of seaside village with my three children, two very large black boys and a little girl, who is white. (I can feel you warming up your psychoanalysis already.) Anyway, the beginning of the dream is kind of hazy, but some how my oldest son goes away, I think he is either murdered or commits murder and is put away, either way it ends up being just the three of us. Unfortunately my two children do not get on; in fact I begin to fear my little girl may be in danger from my remaining son. So I make the decision that my son would remain living in the village while I took the little girl off with me to live on a boat, the deal being that I would abandon her in exactly 8 years time to come back and live with my son. So for the first part of the dream I am happily bobbing along on some house boat type thing with a small child that doesn't age the whole time. She stays about 5 years old the whole 8 years, strange huh? Anyway thing start to go wrong when the 8 years are up, and being the dutiful mother I am, I promptly abandon the little girl, leaving her on the boat and swim to the village, I literally jump off the side while she is asleep. In the mean time my son has grown into a monster of a man, towering above me, a great hulking figure. The problem is my daughter is a tenacious little thing, and somehow ends up at the village too and is looking for me; she turns up at our house. My son, thinking i have rescinded on the deal goes crazy, and once again I am afraid for my little girl. So we escape, touching this sudden emotion I have for the child I abandoned, and get back on the boat. Clearly I am just thinking that I am safe when my son turns up on the boat, there is a struggle and all three of us end up over board. We are all swimming towards the boat when my son goes for my daughter again, impeding her in the water. I, in order to let her get free, begin to struggle with him, and am holding him under the water....

... Then I wake up! To be clear, i don't think I killed my son, because in my dreams I can never kill the bad guy, they just keep coming. The things I notice from this?

1) I am a terrible parent
2) I am a slut, because there were at least two different fathers
3) The irony that the man grows up but the little girl doesn't.
4) Although I briefly abandon the little girl I always choose her in the end.

Tuesday Night - Please note first of all, that I actually am in a Pantomime called Dick Whittington at the moment. Ok, so a friend picks me up and first we go for breakfast, I am late for rehearsals apparently, but we still have time for breakfast in some sort of cafe. During the breakfast I am informed that we are doing rehearsals in a new place today, and sure enough when we leave, we rock up to what can only be described as a church. Although upon reflecting on this I am told it is not a church, but it sure does look like one. This is when the tone of the dream changes, we are all attacked during rehearsals by a huge, bright green pterodactyl. He is also in little trousers. Now this may strike you as weird but I have since realised where this little character of my subconscious comes from, I am ashamed to admit he bears a striking resemblance to an X-Men character which I used to watch when I was younger. It's funny what you can have buried in the back of your head isn't it? In case anyone cares I have found a picture of him for your amusement. Anyway, for the next part of the dream I spend a terrifying time watching members of the cast get eaten by this thing, and in true nightmare style I spend a lot of time running and hiding although never actually getting anywhere. I also spend a lot of time re-jigging the script so that we can continue the pantomime even though cast members are being brutally murdered... as you do... As the dream comes to its climax, basically the show is close to being abandoned because there are so few of us left and I find myself at the mercy of the beast with nowhere to run to. So I ask the creature, who thank God speaks English, why he is doing this, and am informed that he doesn't not like the pantomime Dick Whittington because in the end (in the dream version) a large beast is killed and he finds it offensive. I offer to do Cinderella instead, and the situation is resolved. Some point after that I wake up. The End!

Things I have noticed:
1) I spend far too many years in my youth watching dodgy marvel cartoons.
2) I am a complete coward as not once did I try to help anyone else.
3) In my dreams the story of Dick Whittington is completely different to that of it in real life.
4) Even my monsters have some sort of self righteous cause.

So as you can see, I am going completely bonkers…any minute now I am going to fly into some lack of sleep induced rage and require masses of therapy. Ah well…

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