DreamWeaver
I rarely recall my dreams. I wish I did, but I simply don’t. However, I managed to recollect strange portions of last night’s dreams.
It seems that it was inspired by the Big Brother 7 series finale….a clear sign that I need a more exciting life. Anyway, in the dream I was apparently a contestant on the show and made it to the final three (it was me and the actual final two contestants: Erica and Mike “boogie”).
As in the real show, Mike won first place. However, because Erica made such a poor showing in the question/answer section of the final episode (in real life and in my dream) I managed to come in second place. However, when Julie Chen (the host) asked Mike what he planned to do with his winnings, he made comments that conflicted with the rules of the show (we’re back in dreamland here). Apparently, he said he wanted to open more restaurants but since one of the corporate sponsors of the show would also be involved in his restaurant expansion, it was decided that it was a conflict of interest and the first place prize was awarded to me instead.
The next morning, I was to appear on the CBS Morning news. But during the night I was kidnapped. I soon discovered that my captors were world-famous caricaturists who wanted to sketch me before anybody else had the opportunity to do so. They were quite good to me and fed me yummy smoothies while engaging in fun conversation.
They released me in the hallway leading to the cafeteria of my high school the next morning. The school building was Barnstable High (back home on the Cape) but all of the students were co-workers from Harvard. Everybody was gathered around tables where vendors were selling class rings. Then I woke up before I could make it to the CBS studios for my interview.
What does this mean?
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it means you shouldnt have eaten a pint of Ben and Jerry’s before going to bed…and avoid those pastry shops in the North End too….sugar creates WILD dreams.
It means you’re badly in need of servicing.
It means SOMETHING!!! . . . I’m not going to go there. 😉
Gee. And *I* thought it meant you were rapidly becoming bored with your limited fame as associated with this weblog and were pining for national recognition… Humble Blog my foot. 😉
i think it’s post traumatic stress disorder from being forced to spend time in the cafeteria at good old BHS… it was a really inhumane place to be forced to sit in for 40 minutes everyday. BAD BAD food, stoned headbangers, mean jocks, snotty punkrockers, and a coca-cola machine.