twoish strange dreams
i had a i suppose there were two, but there was no break between.
first: hanna's apartment was haunted by a poltergeist. only it wasn't her real-life apartment, it was really lux. and we knew it was haunted, it wasn't like things were moved when no one was watching. the thing seriously threw things at reid, from another room, when hanna wasn't home. then it did it to everyone. the baby wasn't an issue in the dream. some adult woman, in her late 30s or 40s, with bleach blonde hair, with whom hanna was friends, said she could get rid of it. but there was some prep stuff. she needed 4 mink. we would hav eot go hunting. we decided to prepare everythign we would need to skin the mink at home before we caught them, so all would be ready. we lined 3 cake pans with tin foil, a 4th had a cardboard box in it that we lined with foil. the idea was skin them in the pans [and box] and the pans would keep the gore contained, the foil would keep the pans themselves clean. we were preparing these at the kitchen table. i noticed my dad was there. he'd had his hair bleached blond and had highlights of gold glitter. also, the stylist had combed it forward, as though trying to hide his receeding hairline. he looked terrible. he said he'd had to do it for his business, to update the look or something. he was talking about his business in real life-which is run mainly via phone an dinternet, not in person, and doesn't deal to people who would like that hair. it was awful. then out of the group of people at the table, i won a contest and i was led over to a platform catwalk thing. this is the second dream. i got to meet frank sinatra and sit next to him during some tv show. he met me at the platform and walked ahead of me back to his seat. he was humming and it was frank, but he looked like jack nicholson. our seats were this bench from somewhere out of my childhood, either gymkhana's lobby or a doctor's office. there was a person sitting on his other side who disappeared at some point. i don't know what this show was, becuase we weren't on the stage. they filmed us going ot our seat, sitting down and making nice for the camera, talking a little, put his arma round me, but i knew from his manner-he suddenly stopped paying me any attention-when the cameras weren't on us anymore. i tried to make small talk but gave up after a while and started looking at the audience, all of whom were looking at us, jealous of me. i noticed a lot of them had bleached blond hair [though not like my dad's] and made some disparaging comment something about only white trash dyes their hair that way and only white trash likes hair like that. it ended with "Who likes that look, anyway?" frank overheard me and turned to me with a devilish jack nicholson expression and said "I do." can we say foot in my mouth? then he stood up and asked everyone in the audience whose hair was like that to stand up [so he could ogle them]. to my credit, at least, they were all pretty trashy. he sat back down and we started talking. without a break in the conversation we were in a moving limo which, without missing a beat, became a crowded public bus outbound on 5th. i noticed we were getting close to my stop-i wanted to get off somewhere in early oakland, but we were having a really good conversation. he sang something, then couldn't remember the words to "The Trolley Song" but i did, so i started singing it. he joined in, but he got the show wrong, i had ot correct him [though with the wrong show, come to think of it]. we sang together until my stop came up. i said i had to go, very timidly gave him a goodbye kiss on the cheek and said thank you. completely ignoring that i had to go he said when he kisses a girl goodbye he does it right and really kissed me! it wasn't all that good, he wasn't licking my tonsils [thank goodness, i HATE that!] but his tongue wa sin my mouth far enough that i couldn't put mine into his. i'm not surprised, both frank and jack are mysoginists, aren't they? it lasted a really long time, i totally missed my stop before the hospital and i was getting fidgety, especially becuase i wasn't even enjoying it. near craig street he pulled back and said something like "There now." something that implied his work was done, yep, did the job and got it done right. there i woke up with a sense that i got up and started making my way off the bus at craig, and would have to walk all the way back to where i wanted to be and get there late.
do i feel a latent sexual attraction to jack nicholson? do i have supressed hatred of bleach blonds? i saw a friend at school yesterday who bleached his dark hair blond, but not entirely. i can't decide if i like it or if it's stupid. maybe i think it's stupid. but why did jack nicholson kiss me, why was it so detailed, and why was he really frank sinatra when he only sounded like frank when he sang??! if i want jack nicholson, a) why? b) why wasn't he just jack nicholson?
first: hanna's apartment was haunted by a poltergeist. only it wasn't her real-life apartment, it was really lux. and we knew it was haunted, it wasn't like things were moved when no one was watching. the thing seriously threw things at reid, from another room, when hanna wasn't home. then it did it to everyone. the baby wasn't an issue in the dream. some adult woman, in her late 30s or 40s, with bleach blonde hair, with whom hanna was friends, said she could get rid of it. but there was some prep stuff. she needed 4 mink. we would hav eot go hunting. we decided to prepare everythign we would need to skin the mink at home before we caught them, so all would be ready. we lined 3 cake pans with tin foil, a 4th had a cardboard box in it that we lined with foil. the idea was skin them in the pans [and box] and the pans would keep the gore contained, the foil would keep the pans themselves clean. we were preparing these at the kitchen table. i noticed my dad was there. he'd had his hair bleached blond and had highlights of gold glitter. also, the stylist had combed it forward, as though trying to hide his receeding hairline. he looked terrible. he said he'd had to do it for his business, to update the look or something. he was talking about his business in real life-which is run mainly via phone an dinternet, not in person, and doesn't deal to people who would like that hair. it was awful. then out of the group of people at the table, i won a contest and i was led over to a platform catwalk thing. this is the second dream. i got to meet frank sinatra and sit next to him during some tv show. he met me at the platform and walked ahead of me back to his seat. he was humming and it was frank, but he looked like jack nicholson. our seats were this bench from somewhere out of my childhood, either gymkhana's lobby or a doctor's office. there was a person sitting on his other side who disappeared at some point. i don't know what this show was, becuase we weren't on the stage. they filmed us going ot our seat, sitting down and making nice for the camera, talking a little, put his arma round me, but i knew from his manner-he suddenly stopped paying me any attention-when the cameras weren't on us anymore. i tried to make small talk but gave up after a while and started looking at the audience, all of whom were looking at us, jealous of me. i noticed a lot of them had bleached blond hair [though not like my dad's] and made some disparaging comment something about only white trash dyes their hair that way and only white trash likes hair like that. it ended with "Who likes that look, anyway?" frank overheard me and turned to me with a devilish jack nicholson expression and said "I do." can we say foot in my mouth? then he stood up and asked everyone in the audience whose hair was like that to stand up [so he could ogle them]. to my credit, at least, they were all pretty trashy. he sat back down and we started talking. without a break in the conversation we were in a moving limo which, without missing a beat, became a crowded public bus outbound on 5th. i noticed we were getting close to my stop-i wanted to get off somewhere in early oakland, but we were having a really good conversation. he sang something, then couldn't remember the words to "The Trolley Song" but i did, so i started singing it. he joined in, but he got the show wrong, i had ot correct him [though with the wrong show, come to think of it]. we sang together until my stop came up. i said i had to go, very timidly gave him a goodbye kiss on the cheek and said thank you. completely ignoring that i had to go he said when he kisses a girl goodbye he does it right and really kissed me! it wasn't all that good, he wasn't licking my tonsils [thank goodness, i HATE that!] but his tongue wa sin my mouth far enough that i couldn't put mine into his. i'm not surprised, both frank and jack are mysoginists, aren't they? it lasted a really long time, i totally missed my stop before the hospital and i was getting fidgety, especially becuase i wasn't even enjoying it. near craig street he pulled back and said something like "There now." something that implied his work was done, yep, did the job and got it done right. there i woke up with a sense that i got up and started making my way off the bus at craig, and would have to walk all the way back to where i wanted to be and get there late.
do i feel a latent sexual attraction to jack nicholson? do i have supressed hatred of bleach blonds? i saw a friend at school yesterday who bleached his dark hair blond, but not entirely. i can't decide if i like it or if it's stupid. maybe i think it's stupid. but why did jack nicholson kiss me, why was it so detailed, and why was he really frank sinatra when he only sounded like frank when he sang??! if i want jack nicholson, a) why? b) why wasn't he just jack nicholson?