When the alarm went off this morning, I was still having this epic dream that involved a creepy psychic performance art punk rock cult in Utah where I had been sort of kidnapped with my consent after wandering into this Latina show girl's horse training hovel where her horses could do stuff like ride bikes wearing Louis Vuitton graffiti prints and slide down her driveway on their stomachs.
Turns out, the horses were the fire squad for the cult.
I know!
Anyways, the big dream problem was, I had left the dogs in a hotel with my mom and dad. Oh no. And not just any hotel, a dusty, post armageddon one in San Francisco that was nearly abandonded, but for an old diner on one floor with leftover sandwich fixings.
What was I dream thinking? And there I am, having been removed from the San Francisco in a driverless car with doors that had no inside handles, all the way to Utah, thinking, oh man. What are my poor mom and dad going to do with THE DOGS?
Did you ever dream that you were a dog agility super champ except then it switched and you were at some germy, grungy, derelict seaside park in the dark and the carnies were actually drug addled zombies that were shambling after you with hammers and their big teeth? And then as you're trying to escape your way out from under their oily, horrible claws by clambering up a rat infested palm tree, you're all, this is about dog agility like, how?
5 comments:
could the utah part be a flashback from SLC Punk? or Big Love? i play agility in utah from time to time. the dog folks are great, but once, when i was there for the paragliding, while we were in a restaurant, someone left a note on the windshield of our van saying "jesus loves you anyway." i think the note leaver observed members of our party consuming non religious beverages during dinner, although none had umbrellas. seriously creepy. just watch your back... the dogs are probably safer in the remnants of san francisco.
valpig
I can't help you. But I dreamed last night about my ex-fiance from 30+ years ago [ack, really?!] suddenly appearing in my life and he struck me as a real slimeball. My interpretation is that, after 30 years, I *still* think he's a real slimeball. I like these easier to interpret dreams.
Hey maybe that's why I need so much coffee and am always so tired. I am busy having rich, interesting schizophrenia while I sleeep!
The only other helpful thing I can add comes from my brother-in-law the psychologist. "You had a weird dream? You know what that means? You were asleep!" I doubt he'd have ever said that to a client.
Oh boy Utah... now that IS a nightmare! (I live in Utah so I can say that lol)
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