Monday, November 1, 2010

Dream Blog: I Was a Flying Fist-Fighting Man? What!?!

I'm going to go with the dreams again this morning. Hope you had a strong cup of coffee-or a whole pot.

Lately I've been having extremely action-packed dreams. They're wearing me out. Lots of fighting and dialogue that goes, "You talking to me? I SAAIIID, are you talking to me?" followed by more fighting.

So, anyway, I was in a city at night. Maybe it was Gotham, and I was Batwoman. Don't really know....your mind doesn't narrate for you like, In a galaxy far far away, you're going to encounter an evil ninja. Setting: rooftop. Duration of dream: however long I dang well decide, kid. Beginning...NOW! Rock and roll, Baby!

Any hooby hobby, I started the dream as a woman, and then switched to a masculine version of myself when the fighting started. Pretty sexist of my subconscious, don't you think? And I was at a rooftop apartment or flat or just some big fancy place at the top of a building. The view from it was incredible, but I didn't have time to admire it for long, because the wealthy man who lived in the place showed up, and he was E-VIL! Didn't have proof of that; it was pretty much intuitive, you know?

He wanted a fight, and I was going to have to give it to him. He had some pretty fancy weaponry....numchucks and whatever (don't know the technical names). We went at it. And I was sweating in my dream, getting a little nervous about my chances. Especially when he had a iron grip on my wrist and nearly snapped it (yep, it hurt-must have been lying on it funny in my sleep). Suddenly I had an idea: why not just fly away to a few buildings over, leaving evil ninja man behind?

Sounded good, so my alter-ego, a coward with the superhuman power of flying in order to escape severe bodily harm, took a runnning leap off that roof and whooooshed toward some buildings about half a mile away.

Flying isn't all its cracked up to be by those cute little birdies who land on your bushes and trees during your waking hours. It really does a turn on your stomach. As I sailed down and then zoomed back up toward the roof of a skyscraper, my stomach dropped out and then came back up and did a few back flips. I overshot my landing, too.

I did finally make it, though, but then I heard a loud thud. I turned around, and wouldn't you know? My enemy could fly, too. C-mon! My mind was actually just handing that little skill out like candy on Halloween. Give me a break here! But what could I do? I took off again like a flash on the stomach roller-coaster.

Then suddenly, an eerie noise invaded my dream. It was....a fussin' baby, of course-MY fussin' baby.

I opened my eyes. Matthew had his back turned toward me. Isn't it just like people to desert you when you're fighting an evil rich dude and taking flying leaps off tall buildings? Cruel, cruel man. Still, I was a little bit frazzled by my dream and would have liked to snuggle up against him, but instead I was going to have to make the lonely midnight trek across the couple feet of hall to the baby's room. But first I had to steel myself.

There's no ninjas in the hall. No ninjas in the hall...

I slid out of bed quietly, took a quick survey of the hall and beat it across to the baby's room. Poor little guy; I had to comfort him.

"Shush, Daniel. Quiet now, baby, "I said, picking him up. "Don't worry, son. No ninjas are going to get Mama. Shush now. Shush."

What a guy! Waking up all worried about me. Buy, hey, he was my little savior. If he hadn't snapped me awake, I might never have escaped that mean rich flying ninja of terror.

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