trinityvixen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
trinityvixen) wrote2004-08-20 04:29 pm
trinityvixen) wrote2004-08-20 04:29 pm
Dream a dream
(stupid me, now I've got Captain Jack in my head! And I was doing so well, DDR-free...)
Anyway, I made the mistake of mentioning I'd had a dream last night to Carrie. She also had had one, and I made the second mistake of asking what about. Welll, not mistake so much as...well, when you ask Carrie about her dreams, it tends to take a while. Carrie dreams in novel-format. Her dreams don't just have broad scope--they are beyond measure when it comes to detail and continuous story. It's like she spent the whole week dreaming, not just a night.
My dreams, on the other hand, have limited scope but are usually very realistic. As in events that take place, at least for part of the dream, are entirely plausible, and last night's was no different. The problem with realistic dreams is that they manage to have me convinced that they happened and that they weren't just dreams. I then wake up and have to talk myself down from absorbing dream-reality as fact.
Case in point, last night I dreamt that I had gotten a speeding ticket last weekend when I was home. I got the ticket for 30-something in a 10-mile-an-hour zone nearby Town Hall. There is actually a sign up at the turn for entrance to Town Hall that says "Not a Thru Way" and posts the speed limit at 10 mph. However, the road from which to make that turn is a 30 mph road. I know this, but I woke up doubting because it's not posted as such anywhere near the place I got the ticket in my dream. In the dream, I was even going 'huh?' and then quickly concluded that I was a fool for not realizing the speed limit was 10 mph (it took me less time in the dream to believe i'd merited the ticket than it took me, once I was awake, to talk myself out of believing it). What made it so hard to shake was that I had driven on that road by myself in my dad's car (which were the circumstances in the dream) this past weekend, coming back from a shopping trip. So, the element of history and memory was there, and my dream ran with it.
Needless to say, I spent the groggy pre-getting-out-of-bed minutes alternating between panic and confusion over this alleged ticket. 20 mph over the limit is a serious penalty, huge fine, huge number of points, maybe even a suspended license. I couldn't afford a $250-350 ticket, no way. I couldn't remember how my mom took the news in the dream--which I still thought might be memory--and so worried about that, too. Maybe if I ignored it, it would go away. Because I could say that I thought it wasn't real. Then I worried about the consequences of that decision.
Then I considered the rest of my dream. Later, in the dream timeline, it was night, and I was back in the area near Town Hall, at the crossing of Post and Drake, two huge roads for my home town, and me and someone who looked like the kid who plays Pete on Smallville were standing in front of a police car with its lights going. The cop who had given me the ticket was there, his hand pressed to his side where someone had knifed him. I and 'Pete' were helping him, checking and cleaning the wound, and I tried to parlay this into getting my ticket dismissed. He refused, saying that while he appreciated my help, rules were rules. I was still boned.
Okay, at this point, I really should have known this was a dream. Cop gets knifed in front of Town Hall, is all alone and the streets are deserted? Not at that intersection, and he would have called for help on his radio, not let two strangers, one of whom he'd slapped a speeding ticket on, administer first aid. Wait a second...a cop getting stabbed...in Scarsdale!? The whole reason the ticket affair was plausible was that the cops have nothing better to do at home than be assholes about traffic (god forbid they try to keep the kids away from the booze). WAIT A SECOND? WHY IS PETE IN MY DREAM?! If it was going to be someone from Smallville why oh why wasn't it Tom Welling? Two things about Pete being there should have defined this as 'NOT REAL, DAYLE, YOU MORON.' One, a fictional character was involved. Two, a black kid was in Scarsdale. That's a rare thing (sad, but true) in my neck of the woods. It's white city up there.
Nonetheless, it wasn't until the lingering effects of a bit of alky-hol last night wore off today that I began to be more confident about the fact that I did not owe the Town of Scarsdale close to $400 and my license. Sheesh.
Anyway, I made the mistake of mentioning I'd had a dream last night to Carrie. She also had had one, and I made the second mistake of asking what about. Welll, not mistake so much as...well, when you ask Carrie about her dreams, it tends to take a while. Carrie dreams in novel-format. Her dreams don't just have broad scope--they are beyond measure when it comes to detail and continuous story. It's like she spent the whole week dreaming, not just a night.
My dreams, on the other hand, have limited scope but are usually very realistic. As in events that take place, at least for part of the dream, are entirely plausible, and last night's was no different. The problem with realistic dreams is that they manage to have me convinced that they happened and that they weren't just dreams. I then wake up and have to talk myself down from absorbing dream-reality as fact.
Case in point, last night I dreamt that I had gotten a speeding ticket last weekend when I was home. I got the ticket for 30-something in a 10-mile-an-hour zone nearby Town Hall. There is actually a sign up at the turn for entrance to Town Hall that says "Not a Thru Way" and posts the speed limit at 10 mph. However, the road from which to make that turn is a 30 mph road. I know this, but I woke up doubting because it's not posted as such anywhere near the place I got the ticket in my dream. In the dream, I was even going 'huh?' and then quickly concluded that I was a fool for not realizing the speed limit was 10 mph (it took me less time in the dream to believe i'd merited the ticket than it took me, once I was awake, to talk myself out of believing it). What made it so hard to shake was that I had driven on that road by myself in my dad's car (which were the circumstances in the dream) this past weekend, coming back from a shopping trip. So, the element of history and memory was there, and my dream ran with it.
Needless to say, I spent the groggy pre-getting-out-of-bed minutes alternating between panic and confusion over this alleged ticket. 20 mph over the limit is a serious penalty, huge fine, huge number of points, maybe even a suspended license. I couldn't afford a $250-350 ticket, no way. I couldn't remember how my mom took the news in the dream--which I still thought might be memory--and so worried about that, too. Maybe if I ignored it, it would go away. Because I could say that I thought it wasn't real. Then I worried about the consequences of that decision.
Then I considered the rest of my dream. Later, in the dream timeline, it was night, and I was back in the area near Town Hall, at the crossing of Post and Drake, two huge roads for my home town, and me and someone who looked like the kid who plays Pete on Smallville were standing in front of a police car with its lights going. The cop who had given me the ticket was there, his hand pressed to his side where someone had knifed him. I and 'Pete' were helping him, checking and cleaning the wound, and I tried to parlay this into getting my ticket dismissed. He refused, saying that while he appreciated my help, rules were rules. I was still boned.
Okay, at this point, I really should have known this was a dream. Cop gets knifed in front of Town Hall, is all alone and the streets are deserted? Not at that intersection, and he would have called for help on his radio, not let two strangers, one of whom he'd slapped a speeding ticket on, administer first aid. Wait a second...a cop getting stabbed...in Scarsdale!? The whole reason the ticket affair was plausible was that the cops have nothing better to do at home than be assholes about traffic (god forbid they try to keep the kids away from the booze). WAIT A SECOND? WHY IS PETE IN MY DREAM?! If it was going to be someone from Smallville why oh why wasn't it Tom Welling? Two things about Pete being there should have defined this as 'NOT REAL, DAYLE, YOU MORON.' One, a fictional character was involved. Two, a black kid was in Scarsdale. That's a rare thing (sad, but true) in my neck of the woods. It's white city up there.
Nonetheless, it wasn't until the lingering effects of a bit of alky-hol last night wore off today that I began to be more confident about the fact that I did not owe the Town of Scarsdale close to $400 and my license. Sheesh.
no subject
He was wrong, anyway -- that was Charisma Carpenter. Not that she's not pretty, but you know. I'm selective about who I have lesbian dreams about. :P
Dammit, Dayle...