Grand Central Tire Chase

I dreamt that I was at a party at your house in the country, and you weren’t there. People were playing Capture the Flag on the lawn, and great slabs of meat were being grilled over a fire pit by the side of the house. A band was playing light jazz, and men were smoking pot in the corner out of a giant crystal bong. A young girl asked me to play bocce, but I said I’d rather play at tires. I thrust a tiny tire, half the size of one from a child’s bicycle, up in the air and watched it fall over the cliff into oblivion. I burst into tears.

Someone took pity on me and drove me back into town. I raced to Grand Central in my pink sundress and on the way into the main lobby I felt my ankle give way. I slid across the marble floor until I hit the Trevi Fountain and my dress got wet. I looked up at the water pouring down and out came the little tire, beaten and torn from its long journey but unmistakably mine.

I limped out of Grand Central, eye makeup running down my face, my hair wet and straggly, the hem of my dress filthy, and on the way onto Lexington Avenue there you were. I leapt into your arms and showed you the tire. You hugged me back but then confessed that you didn’t know who I was. I disentangled myself from you and, looking down, walked slowly downtown.

Please, please wash your hands

Last night I dreamt that Barack Obama and I were on a trolley in St. Louis and we were fighting over who got to use the last moist towelette.

Sign of the Cross

One of my girlfriends dreams in Christian symbolism:


I was drunk, which is actually quite fitting because I was actually drunk when I went to sleep. I woke up in my apartment, stumbled (blurry eyed and with a pounding headache) to the bathroom mirror only to discover that I had tattooed a Latin cross (yes, a cross!) on my forehead. It was very Ash Wednesday, except that it was slightly to the right of center, which was handy because my short bangs could just cover it. This wasn't good enough! I tried my hardest to rub it off and (miraculously!) some of it did create a blackish smudge across my forehead. But I was really considering calling my parents, begging for money, explaining that I wasn't actually having an existential crisis, getting that shit removed… when I woke up, ran to the bathroom, looked in the mirror and sighed in relief.

Agency Work Is No Fun

A friend's recent dream:

I was working for the fictional Miller Gold talent agency run by Ari Gold in Entourage. Ari never paid attention to me and always treated me like I didn't exist. Then, one day, he was standing around and began eavesdropping on a conversation I was having with a co-worker. He thought I was funny and started speaking to me, completely ignoring the other person. I was really pissed off because I thought Ari was a piece of shit, and I had no interest in hearing what he had to say. However, he immediately took a liking to me and started parading me around, introducing me to people. Every time we walked into someone's office he'd say, "Hey, check out what Rolo here just said." Yes, he was referring to me as Rolo, the caramel-filled chocolate candy. Whenever someone would hear is new nickname for me, he/she would give me a look that said, "Holy shit, that sucks." I really didn't want to be associated with Ari because, like me, everyone else hated him and only tolerated him because he owned the company, and I didn't want to be known as his friend. However, I remember thinking that I could use this newfound relationship to my advantage and get a pretty awesome promotion just by pretending to like him...and it's LA, so isn't that what everyone does anyway?

Of Monsters and Men

One of my best friends dreamt this last night. This dream gets a gold star.

"In the dream, my father had this plan to import Godzilla (the actual monster) to America. It seemed terrifying to me, but he and this clique of men were all going in on it together. They thought it could
be exciting, and lucrative, to have a monster in our midst. We were all living at this beach house, but it was actually on the East River. My dad and his buddies were waiting there for the Godzilla import. I
was absolutely terrified of this monster; filled with insecurity and dread. I wanted to tell my father not to bring the monster in, but every time I thought of telling him, I became sure that if I told him
the monster was a bad idea, he would be disappointed in me.

Unfortunately, in preparation for the Monster, I, and my family were forced to go on expeditions in the water. Everyone assumed I would think this would be fun. I went on a raft that was carried very high
by a wave. We landed on a rickety bridge hundreds of feet up in the air. Everyone thought we were having fun. I was with my grandfather and my aunt. While we were on the bridge, feeling like we were going
to tip over, they praised my writing. They told me how proud they were of what I was doing. I couldn't stand it anymore. How could they be praising my writing and having fun when I was so afraid of heights?
How could they not realize that I was so afraid of height? Finally I couldn't stand it anymore. "How could you do this to me when I'm afraid of heights?" I yelled.

Everyone was shocked and saddened to hear that I fear heights. They were at first offended and then immediately indifferent. We went back to land. When we got there, my father said he heard what had happened and that the solution to everything would be if I just eat a bowl of plums. I insisted that I already eaten and begged him not to make me eat them. He tossed the plums in the bowl and they burst into a big
watery purple mess. I couldn't decide if they would harder, or easier to eat in their liquid form, but I was both disgusted and intrigued.

Then we were in a room with big open windows, looking at the ocean, waiting for Godzilla to come. Suddenly, the horizon become extremely thick and gray. There was lightening, but the sky was so murky we could barely see it. My father told me that they had forgotten to get tranquilizers for the monster, so we'd have no way of protecting ourselves when he arrived, and now that the storm had hit, we wouldn't
be able to get any. We also lost electricity, and when the monster came, we wouldn't have any light to see him by. In fact, we'd have no way of preparing ourselves for the monster. He was going to come at
night and surprise us, and we'd have no way of knowing when, or seeing him before he attacked.

I knew that I should have been angry at my father and the men for ordering the monster, but instead I just felt incredibly sad and lonely. I decided the best way to prepare myself for the monster was
to convince myself that I had wanted him to come too, because then even when he came and attacked me, I could feel happy, because I'd be getting what I wanted. My father revealed that the monster was
actually meant to be used as an exercise device in a gym class. I decided the best thing I could do to show my enthusiasm for the monster was to rush to the gym to work out.

When I got there, I waited outside the room so I could go to yoga class. I knew that the monster was scheduled to appear in the Spinning class, and I assumed that I would be protected because I never went to
spinning. But I felt a flicker of doubt. Maybe I wasn't safe in yoga. Maybe it would actually be safer to leave. My heart was pounding and I felt nauseous. But I told myself I had to stay at the gym.

But yoga class was starting late. In anticipatory agony, I ran out to the deck to see if I could catch a glimpse of godzilla on the horizon. When I got there, I found a girl sitting a table with a boy. They were
both very young looking; pudgy and no descript. They both had dark hair and olive-y skin. She looked like she could have been part Asian, and she was very short. The boy resembled a friend of James's (my
ex-boyfriend) from college, who is socially inept and has never had a girlfriend. Although I had never seen the girl before, I knew that she was my best friend from childhood.

"We were broken up," she told me, about her and the boy. "But we just
got back together."

"How's that working out for you?" I asked.

"Well..." She climbed into his lap. She had a huge smile on her face
and glittering eyes. She answered in a voice that was wild, sad and tremulous, exuding laughter and tears.

"I still feel like he doesn't even know who I am." Then she held his head in her hands and looked
into his eyes. "But I'm more in love with him than ever."

Flaming Arrows

This dream occurred a week ago, before McCain tried to delay the debates.

It was the night of the debate, and I was in the stadium where it was taking place. McCain did not show up, and Obama sat alone on the stage, placidly. I was sitting at the top of the stadium, and a million flaming arrows flew down on the stage from all around the stadium. None hit the candidate. He sat still, calm.

Business School

A friend's dream:

"My dream last night was about business school anxiety. Not very fun. Basically, I was trying to connect with this family friend of mine who used to work in the admissions department at Columbia Business School who said she'd help me out when applying to schools, and we were having a difficult time trying to connect. Finally, somehow, I ended up in her dorm room (yeah, I know...it makes no sense to me either...she's 28) and then I had to wait while she took a shower. I was angry that we weren't meeting right away, but then i thought to myself that i really needed a shower too.

Her dorm room was completely tiled. I remember it felt like Mexico, but it definitely wasn't Mexico...so where was I? Obviously not New York. Then again, what was a 28-year-old doing living in a dorm room? And where can you find a single dorm room with a full bathroom? I digress. I was also with two other friends...I don't remember who they were, but they were part of my entourage. They had no real purpose except to accompany me to this meeting. I guess that's all I can remember."