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2001-03-08 || 10:18 || bob dylan and donovan and my mom at the gas station || i am being haunted by this crazy dream i had yesterday. i have told a hundred people already, have pulled them aside outside the edinburgh castle to whisper the finer details, have kept them on the phone while i recount forgotten parts, but it is stuck on my brain. like a post it note. stuck there and i have to read it every time i want to do anything. because it was so funny. i went home early yesterday due to the heavenly mother's decision to bestow upon me a small tropical storm in my uterus. crampety cramp cramp, it went, rawr rawr rawr. and i was hopped up on maximum strength/multiple symptom pamprin, which i incidentally have learned much about in the past two days, such as a) do not take three at once on an empty stomach, unless you like the effect of rufies. b) do not take those three at 5 in the morning and then expect to feel just fine and able to go to work three hours later. c) try hard not to talk back to your computer, which is speaking to you in german. d) do not be dismayed by the dreams you have (i am getting to that!) while under the influence of pamprin. it is only the drugs, honey. e) do not take another pamprin before goin to bed after you have consumed beer and danced yourself to dehydration, unless, again, you like the effect of rufies and you don't mind being quoted the next morning as saying/slobbering in to your pillow 'i feel liiiike a puuuddle... but i wannnna make out with youuuuu.' i hope that all helps. now. my dream: wait. possible influences of my dream, just for the record: 6 or 7 pamprins in my system. talk earlier in the day of goin back on the pill to stop this monthly womanly tornado. oprah episode talkin about menopause playing in the background. i had pizza for lunch. i am obsessed with children. my dream, really this time: i have gotten pregnant and just delivered the baby. i haven't told anyone. no one knows. it is a boy and i haven't even named him. he is about two-three inches tall. this is completely normal to me. i feel terrible that i haven't even named him yet and am so upset that i am turning out to be such a terrible mother. then i lose him. i think he is either in the pocket protector in the breast pocket of my shirt or i have accidentally put him on my pizza and eaten him or he is in the cushions of the backseat of my car. suddenly i am at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. i am looking for the baby still, freaking out because the hospital called and we are due for check-ups, and an old man is demanding that i drive him to a place two hours away. i tell him i can't do it because i have to drive to southern california that night, and i look over his shoulder and there are bob dylan and donovan sitting on the curb. no kidding. and bob dylan walks by, young bob dylan, lovely bob dylan, and i am a bit slack jawed. and then i look past him and i see my mother walking up the street. she says my full name first middle last in a furious way and i think she has found out about the baby and i think of making a break for it. but she is pushing a stroller. i think maybe she has my baby. she comes closer and i notice it is a full-sized baby wearing liederhosen. i think maybe it's mine and i'm going crazy, a mom should remember puttin her kid in liederhosen, but she says she's adopted this baby from the nice austrian couple filling up their audi at the station. and i look at her and say 'but mom, i have a baby.' and she says 'jenny, don't be silly. you don't have a baby...' and i am trying to convince her and i am crying pointing to the backseat of the car and my pocket protector and then i wake up. phew. and cass called right after i woke up and i had to tell him the whole thing. and then i had to call my mom and tell her, and she nearly hyperventialted from me saying i had a dream i was pregnant. but she liked the cameo role with donovan and bob dylan. my mom would have totally sat on the curb with donovan and bob dylan, in between the two of them, so that they would behave themselves. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |