Dreams of mirth and woe (apologies to Scary Duck)

I have a lot of respect for ScaryDuck; both for his humorous turn of phrase and for the surreal and exciting nature of his existence, as narrated on his blog (my status message on Google Talk was ‘woomph’ for three days after reading about the lighter fluid incident on Mr Duck’s blog).

Whilst a few, reasonably dramatic things happen to me, the vast majority of my friends and family don’t have an online existence and are made slightly uncomfortable about the level of shameless exhibitionism that a blog sometimes entails, and reactions vary from “cool, I got a mention on your blog,” to “I’m not talking to you, you might write it up on your blog and shame me for all the interweb to see.” As such, I’m (believe it or not) reticent about my interactions with others on this site.

That said, I do have a very vivid dream-landscape. For some reason, particularly when I go on holiday, I end up having especially, erm, powerful dreams – for lack of a better word. So, dreams of mirth and woe, episodes 1 and 2, for your delectation.

DoMaW Episode 1: my first night back in KL for the Christmas holiday, I manage to get to sleep and am suddenly aware of an appalling lack of symmetry. The numbers 17 and 34 come to pre-eminence, the wisecracking part of me says “that’s numberwang” and the rest of me begins to feel very uneasy. This is all whilst asleep, of course. Shortly thereafter, I wake, convinced that this symmetry of 17/34 will result in the end of existence as we know it. And its ALL MY FAULT. So an hour of telling myself that this really can’t matter later, I manage to calm down and regain perspective, but those ‘Catholic Guilt’ dreams are really unsettling. Audience participation moment: What’s your most unsettling dream? Tell us in the comments.

DoMaW Episode 2: Tonight’s dream. It’s 2.45 Malaysian time and my jetlag has kicked me squarely in the groin and is running to score a try, but I’m hoping this blog post will knacker me back into my evidently screwy unconscious state. So, in tonight’s dream I’m at some kind of networking event related to my industry (tech PR). I don’t recognise anyone I’m talking to but am getting repeatedly sidelined and ignored by two toffs in the corner, in a circle of people I was part of. Eventually, I lose my temper and pick one of them up by the collar and slam him into the ground in a move of smoothness and power that would raise an eyebrow on The Rock. This is massively out of character for me; I resort to sarcasm far more easily than violence. But there was something about this guy that was reminiscent of some of the less desirable characters from my school (most of the ones with trust funds), so apparently my subconscious mind just cut loose. As I was standing there, apologising for having lost my temper and patting down his ruffled blazer whilst he adjusted his cravate and called curses out against my name, I became aware of the corner clearing, and eventually I was just there, alone. It reminded me distinctly of meals at school, where (as a socially inept youth) I’d occasionally be left to share my breakfast with the ketchup and brown sauce bottles, with only the student on defaulter (kitchen duty punishment) for conversation. One of the directors from my company then came over and asked me what happened, and, bluff and bravado that I somehow maintained throughout this humiliating fictional experience, I made a joke of it and left the room. Fortunately, this was not one of those dreams where you wake up thinking it was real and so calm immediately resumed.

Tune in for more dreams of mirth and woe. Me, I’m hoping for nothing more than a calm night’s sleep after those two! I should have posted the Christmas speech I was planning in a state of near sleep but being awake has made me a little self-conscious about that one. If I make it, I may write it.

One thought on “Dreams of mirth and woe (apologies to Scary Duck)”

  1. There was this guy see.
    He wasn’t very bright and he reached his adult life without ever having learned “the facts”.
    Somehow, it gets to be his wedding day.
    While he is walking down the isle, his father tugs his sleeve and says,

    “Son, when you get to the hotel room…Call me”

    Hours later he gets to the hotel room with his beautiful blushing bride and he calls his father,

    “Dad, we are the hotel, what do I do?”

    “O.K. Son, listen up, take off your clothes and get in the bed, then she should take off her clothes and get in the bed, if not help her. Then either way, ah, call me”

    A few moments later…

    “Dad we took off our clothes and we are in the bed, what do I do?”

    O.K. Son, listen up. Move real close to her and she should move real close to you, and then… Ah, call me.”

    A few moments later…


    “O.K. Son, Listen up, this is the most important part. Stick the long part of your body into the place where she goes to the bathroom.”

    A few moments later…

    “Dad, I’ve got my foot in the toilet, what do I do?”

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