In which I am more successful in my dreams than on Tinder
So, the other night I had a dream. I don't know whether it is true or just something I imagine, but I have this idea that I rarely dream, or at least remember my dreams, when I'm depressed, but anyway, remembering my dreams after a long period of not remembering makes me happy.
Or at least I would be happy if I didn't wake up somewhat anxious, since I had had rather convoluted and farcical dream. I always think of it as French farce, with a lot of people running around, in and out of doors, coincidences and confusions galore. Which is rather exhausting to dream, since there was a lot of running around, and on one occasion I was drowned in onion soup being poured from third floor. All this was because of the affair (of course!) I was having with a 17 year old boy. The reason for this affair was that he wanted to become the president, and if it worked for Emmanuel Macron (who married his 24 year older teacher), it would work for him. The last thing I remember of the dream was running around (of course) trying to find a pharmacy that could sell me a pregnancy test, but of course they were all closed.
And tangentially related I have amused myself with looking at Tinder here. I am rather amused by the difference in, what should we call it, aesthetics. Back in Norway almost all the boys and most of the girls I find have a picture of themselves hiking or a mountain, with or without snow. Even I (the one to the right). And some of the men have motorcycles and dogs as well. So far I feel that the majority of Greek men have either a selfie snapped in a car or relaxing in a beach-chair. But many in black and white for some reason.
Since Athens is a much bigger city than Bergen I got a lot of more hits than back home, even though I am an hard left-swiper, but both of the two I started chatting with were married, one wife was away this week, the other one was here on a conference. Thanks, but no thanks. i think I'll go with my imaginary 17-year old.
Crossposted to http://mummimamma.dreamwidth.org/298155.html where it has
comments. You can comment here or there.
Or at least I would be happy if I didn't wake up somewhat anxious, since I had had rather convoluted and farcical dream. I always think of it as French farce, with a lot of people running around, in and out of doors, coincidences and confusions galore. Which is rather exhausting to dream, since there was a lot of running around, and on one occasion I was drowned in onion soup being poured from third floor. All this was because of the affair (of course!) I was having with a 17 year old boy. The reason for this affair was that he wanted to become the president, and if it worked for Emmanuel Macron (who married his 24 year older teacher), it would work for him. The last thing I remember of the dream was running around (of course) trying to find a pharmacy that could sell me a pregnancy test, but of course they were all closed.
And tangentially related I have amused myself with looking at Tinder here. I am rather amused by the difference in, what should we call it, aesthetics. Back in Norway almost all the boys and most of the girls I find have a picture of themselves hiking or a mountain, with or without snow. Even I (the one to the right). And some of the men have motorcycles and dogs as well. So far I feel that the majority of Greek men have either a selfie snapped in a car or relaxing in a beach-chair. But many in black and white for some reason.
Since Athens is a much bigger city than Bergen I got a lot of more hits than back home, even though I am an hard left-swiper, but both of the two I started chatting with were married, one wife was away this week, the other one was here on a conference. Thanks, but no thanks. i think I'll go with my imaginary 17-year old.
Crossposted to http://mummimamma.dreamwidth.org/298155.html where it has
comments. You can comment here or there.