I also hate it when people blog their dreams
Last night I dreamt that Jan was out and I woke up to a group of extremely annoying, icky bearded men all in my bed, snuggling -- and some of them trying to cop a feel. They wore too much leather for nighttime and I could hear some clanking.
When I expressed outrage, they asked me if I wasn't poly and why I was so uptight and I explained in no uncertain terms that I was NOT poly and that even if I was poly I would not choose to be poly with weird, unattractive men who broke into women's houses in the dead of night.
I then struggled furiously out of bed to discover that I was a victim of a home invasion consisting solely of Renfest goers.
They were everywhere: playing tambourines, belly dancing, wearing their fringed boots and leather forearm guards, drinking mead. Carousing, performing period-correct English country dances.
I looked in the back yard, and they were ripping up strips of sod and setting up bleachers for jousting.
I screamed at them all to get out of my house and everyone ignored me.
I called 911.
The woman was skeptical. "You're the victim of a home invasion but they're letting you use the phone?" she asked me. Then she mocked me and hung up.
I called back and spoke with a similarly skeptical second operator. Before she could hang up, I bellowed at the top of my lungs, in full earnestness without a hint of irony or humor: "YES I AM THE VICTIM OF A HOME INVASION! It's just the dorkiest home invasion KNOWN TO MAN!"
Followup dream I had today:
I was having one of those horrible afternoon naps in which you are in a practically drugged stupor. In my dream, a knock came at the door. It was one of the home invaders, insisting to my bewildered and socially clueless husband that they were friends and I'd invited them to our house for dinner. They dragged me out of bed. This time they actually listened when I told them they were _not_ staying for dinner and to get out.
"Fine," said one sulkily. She wore purple diaphanous skirts and a belt made of coins. "Then let us get a few things we left here last night."
They collected up their leather, silks, recorders, and jester hats and swept out the door in high dudgeon.
When I expressed outrage, they asked me if I wasn't poly and why I was so uptight and I explained in no uncertain terms that I was NOT poly and that even if I was poly I would not choose to be poly with weird, unattractive men who broke into women's houses in the dead of night.
I then struggled furiously out of bed to discover that I was a victim of a home invasion consisting solely of Renfest goers.
They were everywhere: playing tambourines, belly dancing, wearing their fringed boots and leather forearm guards, drinking mead. Carousing, performing period-correct English country dances.
I looked in the back yard, and they were ripping up strips of sod and setting up bleachers for jousting.
I screamed at them all to get out of my house and everyone ignored me.
I called 911.
The woman was skeptical. "You're the victim of a home invasion but they're letting you use the phone?" she asked me. Then she mocked me and hung up.
I called back and spoke with a similarly skeptical second operator. Before she could hang up, I bellowed at the top of my lungs, in full earnestness without a hint of irony or humor: "YES I AM THE VICTIM OF A HOME INVASION! It's just the dorkiest home invasion KNOWN TO MAN!"
Followup dream I had today:
I was having one of those horrible afternoon naps in which you are in a practically drugged stupor. In my dream, a knock came at the door. It was one of the home invaders, insisting to my bewildered and socially clueless husband that they were friends and I'd invited them to our house for dinner. They dragged me out of bed. This time they actually listened when I told them they were _not_ staying for dinner and to get out.
"Fine," said one sulkily. She wore purple diaphanous skirts and a belt made of coins. "Then let us get a few things we left here last night."
They collected up their leather, silks, recorders, and jester hats and swept out the door in high dudgeon.