Category Archives: Dreams

This Was My Brain…


… last night. See, I had a dream. And it was seriously messed up. It was pretty disturbing. Like, beyond disturbing. For some reason I was back playing oboe – all of a sudden, at my current age with kids, fam and all that – and auditioning for summer programs. That was a beatdown. Forget about my old nemesis, extreme performance anxiety. For some reason this particular summer program was located in Big D and had an interview component to the audition process.

Yuck. Throw in the fact that I was, um, at least a decade (and that’s putting it mildly) older than the other applicants. I don’t even remember the playing part of this weird dream audition. But apparently it was good enough, because I got in.

Fast forward to The Night of The Big Concert. I met the Spouse and minions for early dinner across town. (? why didn’t they just bring me dinner?) I’d asked them to bring my concert attire with them and decided to change in the bathroom. This was a bad idea. For two very important reasons. First – I’d asked them to bring one of my OLD concert dresses. Like, from my Former Life as a Musician. Before I had kids. That’s bad enough, right? Wrong. Second – apparently I hadn’t tried it on before asking them to bring it to me.

Of course it didn’t fit. But you know what? I made that sucker fit. And headed back across town with a tight deadline.

And then it hit. Traffic. Awful, horrific traffic. Gridlocked. The kind of traffic that makes it impossible to get more than a mile every fifteen minutes. I was stuck. Panicked. Performance anxiety? That was nothing compared to my normal Type A anal-retentiveness about time – magnified ad infinitum by the stupid traffic situation. Finally made it to the concert hall – just had to park the car.

There were no parking spaces in the parking garage or on any surrounding streets. None. Zip. Zero. It’s a miracle I didn’t pop the already-strained seams on that dress hyperventilating while running for it to make it on time.

Didn’t happen. I was late. By five minutes. Had to wait outside the concert hall for the first piece to finish. And then had to walk past the Spouse and minions – seated in the front row – up to the stage to explain to my section leader why I was late.

He wasn’t having it. Yelled and belittled me as only a true musician-egoist can. Dismissed me. Totally. Told me to forget it and go home, then proceeded to ignore me while I dragged my sausage-casing black taffeta self back to the car. Oh, and I’d forgotten where I put the car in my delirium – and hadn’t remembered to snap the ‘Find My Car’ app on. Seriously. I was a blubbering, sniffling mess in that stupid dress and heels, limping up and down parking ramps.

Now, if you’re still reading, you’re thinking one of two things. Either – she’s crazy, or – that is some wild kind of messed-up stuff going on in her head.

You’re probably right either way. But here’s the catch:

I DID get stuck in horrible traffic on my way home last night. In fact, it took two hours to drive my normal 21 miles. Ridiculous. And I was late to the minions’ Cub Scout thingy because of it. So that almost makes this dream a sensible reaction, right? Right. At least that’s what I thought.

Until I mentioned it to my boss. Not all of it, just the fact that I dreamed about getting stuck in traffic and panicking about it. She freaked out, asking me if I feel trapped in my current work environment. Turns out she’s big on dream analysis. So of course I had to be curious and Google around.

You ready for what I found? It’s creepy. Sure you’re ready? Ok, I warned you… Here’s what Google dream analysis had to say:

“Gridlocked traffic could represent a feeling that things in some aspect of your life are bogged down, or it could represent your state of mind when you’re feeling overwhelmed.

“Walking, driving, or any form of traveling can represent: The passage of time, or making progress or moving forward in life, or moving along your life path.

“Being stuck can represent: feeling unable to make progress or make changes in your life, feeling stuck in a certain situation, possibly an awkward one, or feeling that you’re “stuck in a rut” somehow.

“Playing a musical instrument can mean that you have something to express or say, or you have a need for a creative outlet.

“Performing for others can represent: the idea of attention focused on you, or of your or your efforts being noticed or highlighted, a feeling of self-consciousness, of being observed, or of being especially concerned about others’ opinions about you. Some possible meanings include: an actual, expected, or imagined audition, feeling evaluated, judged, or “put on the spot” by others, applying for a job, university, etc., wanting approval from others, being tested, or trying to make a certain impression on others.

Dang. If that doesn’t hit all the nails smack dab on the head. Huh.

As a matter of fact, I am frustrated. Feeling stuck. Knowing the long-term goals but caught in the day-to-day vicious circle of routines. Creative? Um, hello? This whole writing thing? Check. Attention? Yeah, that’s been lacking lately.
Everything in that stupid dream analysis web site is dead on.

Scary, huh? But it sure does make me think.

Now I’ve gotta do something about it.

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Filed under Dreams, Hobbies, Music, working moms, writing

Psychedelic Dreamin’

Wow. This is a new one. A weekend post. Coolness. Guess my daily writing habit is starting to stick, and I like it. And of course, the idea for this post came while I was on my regular weekend walk so I had no way of writing it down. I’m home now, the minions are occupied, and it’s a good writing time.

Few people know that I”m a fan of 60’s psychedelic rock. Particularly Strawberry Alarm Clock. ‘Incense and Peppermints’ is a given, but the really wild stuff comes into play with tunes like ‘Rainy Day Mushroom Pillow’ and ‘Sit With the Guru.’ Makes me really wonder what kind of drug-induced haze those dudes lived in back in the day.

But last night’s dreams could definitely give them a run for their money. Seriously.

Granted, I take regular medication for a health condition, but that doesn’t usually give me the kind of hallucinogenic dreams I had last night. Wow. No idea where most of those came from. If I were a dream analyst or therapist I’d probably be scared of me right about now.

Take, for example, the first scenario. Scene – a snowy blustery night on a mountainside. A house. Me and a newborn baby (??!) out in the snow, fighting off a herd of what can only be described as creatures crossed between direwolves from Game of Thrones and wargs from The Hobbit. Ok, since the minions’ choice for Movie Night was The Lord of the Rings, that almost makes sense. But throw in the head honcho from my office, my own kids, and them practicing their recorders from music class and it just gets weird.

Second scenario: Back at the office, but in a hugely tall building in the snow. Company event – I signed up for a snowboarding contest. Um, I’ve never even skied, much less snowboarded. So you can imagine, in my dream, the relief I felt when the roads were so icy they became impassable. Of course I found this the hard way when my ATV slid into a ditch. Can’t figure out which is crazier – the idea of me driving an ATV or my feeling relief at sliding down a mountainside road into a deep ditch in the dark.

Third scenario – and by far the most psychedelic of all: a bit of extended-family drama about holiday preparations, traveling through a guerrilla-ridden wilderness to get to the mall, and receiving the normal Christmas cards. Except for one. My jokingly-named Nemesis decided to up the ante and, in lieu of cards, send out video blogs. Yep, you read that right. And her video blog was by far the most Pinstrocious, Pinstrosity-laden dose of overkill you could imagine. Think the SNL skit with Ana Gasteyer doing the topless Martha Stewart Christmas special (just the narration – not the content!) Slow-moving montages of the fireplace mantel decor, which spelled out cutesy, profound sayings in hand-painted decorations. The zoom in on the fireplace itself, filled with handpicked greenery (of course) and hand-dipped candles – along with the narration, ‘Lo, the heart of the home gloweth with the green of renewal and light of the season. It is a wonder mighty to behold.’ The Christmas tree. Etc, etc, etc, ad nauseum.


And all of that nemesis-designed perfection was followed by a flash scene of me in my college apartment getting ready for my parents to visit. There was so much crap everywhere. I’m talking crushed-up muffins on the floor, empty cupcake wrappers crusted to the stove, dirty towels littering the counters and floor. Huh? My roomie and I weren’t neat freaks but we NEVER got that bad. And through all of this my neat-freak mom just smiled and made idle conversation – not even trying to pick anything up.

Add in a sprinkling of me trying to run cross country chased by criminals, and is it any wonder I woke up with a thick head and sinus headache this morning? It’s a wonder I’m even functioning. Not exactly restful.

Anyhoo, like I said – any dream analyst would run screaming. I’m not even going to try and hash any of it out. Wow. A glass-half-full person would probably praise my imagination. But you know what? If that’s my imagination, we need to have a CTJ. Now. Either it channels itself into more constructive outlets, like topics for writing or insight to my life – or I’m turning it off. Deleting it. Like that movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

Or, just maybe, it was my subconscious way of rebelling against today’s monster project – shoveling out R’s room to find the necklace he put ‘in such a safe place that I forgot where it was.’

Hopefully it’s the latter. Or I’m gonna really start questioning my sanity… And give Strawberry Alarm Clock a serious run for their money.

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Filed under Competition, Dreams, Moms, Psychedelic rock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Subconscious, working moms