Since my last post, I've quit smoking - my last tobacco product (cigarette, 10-8-06) was surprisingly not as awesome as I'd hoped, although I tried to make it as dramatic as possible, as if I were moving to one of Jupiter's lesser moons, or something of that nature. But alas, my trusty 14mg patches have made it a lot easier than I thought, but a new problem has arisen. Wearing the patch 24 hours a day, I get nicotine at times when I normally wouldn't have, had I continued smoking - specifically, while I sleep. This extra ingredient seems to skyrocket the detail, extension, and depth of my dreams. For me, dreams typically cover a short time span, take place in one setting, and aren't too detailed. However, I've been incredibly productive and thoughtful these past few nights as I've slept - and Hunter, I know you said no one is really interested in the dreams of others, but I'm going to tell you anyway.
Dream One: Just to reiterate how vivid and striking these dreams have been, let me say that this dream occurred on the night of October 10th and I can still remember it perfectly, even having not yet written a bit of it down.
So, before I went to sleep that night, I had been rigourously studying for a Russian Literature midterm exam - Naturalism, Pushkin, Czars, Petersburg, noumenal, et cetera - so, I was definitely stuck in the Russian mindset, whatever that is. Regardless, as I fell asleep, I began recalling a discussion from earlier in the night in which my fellow Russians and I had been joking about the correlation between Chumbawumba's "Tubthumping" and the ideas of the superfluous man and the Byronic hero, both common to early 19th century Russian Literature.
So as I drifted to sleep, I had one of those pre-REM dreams, which seem to be more like extremely focused brainstorming sessions - you can still hear cars honking and occasional voices, but for the most part, you're out. Slowly but steadily, and without my consent, I began writing an essay in my brain - not formulating ideas and a general outline - actually writing a thesis statement and introductory paragraph
word for word across my eyes. I watched as some part of me scribbled out certain words and replaced them with others - keep in mind, this essay dealt with Chumbawumba's portrayal of Danny Boy as a superfluous man and a Byronic Hero in their smash hit, "Tubthumping".
The last thing I recall of the dream, or essay, before I fell asleep, was my attempt to explain and speculate on the symbolism of the many drinks (whiskey drink, vodka drink, lager drink, cider drink) Danny Boy enjoys and why the author feels the need to explain that he spends the evening just "pissing the night away." Can anyone say "Oblomov?"
Dream Two: I'll keep these short from here on out - just a quick synopsis, and then on to the next night.
This dream took place on October 14th, the night after a Reaves family reunion in Memphis, which I did not attend.
I dreamt that my family (extended and immediate) and I were all enjoying general merriment at a family reunion somewhere in the jungles or swamps of Thailand. I'm not sure why such a locale was chosen, but it was probably Uncle Jerry's idea. Anyway, I smoked two cigarettes with my Mom, who does not smoke, and woke up feeling extremely guilty and then excited, because I realized I was still actually smoke-free.
Apologies if that was a boring one.
Dream Three: Take
High Fidelity, remove John Cusack, insert Scram, delete all comedic elements, and change the ex-girlfriends.
I spent what felt like the
entire night, going back to each and every one of my ex-girlfriends and reconciling our differences. Strange thing is, only one Ex remains unreconciled, but not by any choice of mine. Anyway, this sleepwalk down memory lane led me all the way back to Beren D., my fourth grade girlfriend who played the agressor by placing in my desk (during my first week at Pulaski Academy, mind you - I was very proud of this) a note that said "I like you."
"Simple and honest," I thought.
I guess I like you, too - so we "went out", which means we awkwardly said our hellos in the halls and at one point, I believe I may have called her. For Christmas I gave her a teddy bear and she gave me an ornament, which I have to this day and continues to adorn our tree each year.
But alas, things weren't working out and we had to go our separate ways - and I thought everything was alright between the two of us, but for some reason my dream felt otherwise. We shook hands and apologized and I continued my journey.
Rachael (circa 5th grade, multiple times, perhaps)
Cat (6th, twice)
Taylor (7th, capture the flag)
Marci (circa 8th-9th, on and off)
Nicole (10th - I could drive)
Sarah B. (11th grade, kind of)
And finally, my most recent: J. This was an interesting one because it is the only relationship that ended on a bad note and has yet to be reconciled. Given that fact that we dated for a year and a half, however, Dream-Scram and Dream-J were pretty damn civil about the whole thing - just a hug and we were out. Not much to say about the matter.
Despite the stressful state I found myself in when I awoke, I will say my version of High Fidelity was vaguely therapeutic - but maybe that's just because I remembered the ornament that Beren gave me, which reminded me of how much I like Christmas, and furthermore, how nice it is when it snows.
