Thursday, August 25, 2011

Chocolate, Rum and Crocodiles



I awake from a dream this morning that takes place at this big house with numerous bedrooms. The house is a distorted version of the Fitzgerald's, the family of an old elementary school friend of mine who was one of ten Irish Catholic children.  I don't know why I have to stay here, but I do and it is apparently fine because there are weddings in town and many random people will also be staying in this house tonight. At least this is what I'm told by some blurry familiar someone. Also, I am with colleagues, two men I think, and we have some sort of mission to accomplish, business to tend to. We're serious about something.  Not sure what. Anyway, this house is like a crooked boat with many ladders and triangle shaped roofs and while I explore it, I realize I have to pee. I stumble upon the room with the toilet. It is a large dark bedroom adorned with dirty laundry piles. The toilet is at the end of the room like a throne, centered along the back wall. But just as I walk into this bedroom bathroom, I realize I don't have a shirt on. I am completely topless.  I cover my little boobies with my crossed arms and sit on the toilet to pee (trying not to wake the lump shifting in the sheets at the other end of the room). When finished and empty, I stand and that's when I see it. I have peed on the toilet with the white plastic lid still down and now there is a yellow puddle perched there as well as a small waterfall of my urine cascading down the porcelain john toward the surrounding piles of dirty laundry. I panic and begin picking up the wet crumpled clothing and carrying them, still topless, from this strange room to where I find a growing tropical forest fire down the hall. I watch the fire grow for a little while before realizing that no one has reported it. So, I report it and by reporting it, I mean, I run up and down the dirt road beside the forest fire yelling "FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!" This is when the crocodile starts attacking me. Luckily I have my cheap plastic umbrella in my hands to whack the creature over its bumpy biting face. After each clumsy blow, the thing backs up a bit and I return to my responsible screaming, but before I am positive I have truly informed the authorities, the snapping jaw comes back at me and I must try again to strike the mouth closed. For some reason, I know if I hit the enormous reptile square on the nose it will die or give up, but to no avail, the crocodile continues trying to eat me while, still half-naked, I scream "FIRE" beside a pile of pee drenched laundry. 


It is 6:30AM when I roll out of bed and feel for the bathroom with my eyes half closed.




So in deciphering my dream, or rather, reasons why I probably had this strange unconscious experience would be as follows...


  • Last night, at 8:45PM, I drank  half of a nip of spiced rum with a splash of ginger soda and pineapple juice.
  • At about 9:20PM, I ate a few forkfulls of peanut butter cup ice cream straight from the container.
  • At 10:30PM, I went to sleep. 
  • Also, yesterday morning, I drove by an enormous black bear sitting and having a picnic of trash in somebody's driveway.  This would explain my confusion about hitting the crocodile square on the nose. 
  • Oh and I'm lazy and often sit on public toilet seats even though I know so many disgusting bare butts have done the same before mine and even though my friend, Amy, says I could catch something. Also, to me, nothing is quite as shocking as sitting on top of the toilet seat bare-assed, feeling the plastic or wood press up to my privates. It always feels like I've accidentally molested myself. 
  • Finally, I  posses an unnecessarily rash fear of exposing my boobies.  



2 comments:

  1. i am dying with laughter




    only because i have dreams as odd and specific as that one.

    i also feel the molestation of sitting on a toilet bare assed and feeling what you felt.

    ReplyDelete
  2. It always feels like I've accidentally molested myself.

    Best line of the whole post - I laughed out loud! You've put into words exactly what that feels like!

    ReplyDelete

A Wise Friend

A wise friend is akin to a book of old wisdom.  A book of bone and soul and skin. A book that breathes and speaks and eats. A book with a so...