Strange Practical Fleeting Dream

As I noted in an earlier entry, I’m sick. Not horrible on-my-death-bed-sick, just an annoying cold, but it’s enough to have thrown my body out of whack with regards to eating and sleeping habits.

Anyway, so I went to bed at 4am last night, got up at 1:30pm, worked on some stuff for a bit, and then realized that I was exhausted… laid back down, and slept until around 5:30pm.

But during that sleep time, I had a very odd Strange Practical Fleeting Dream.

I was in bed with Anna Nicole Smith and an acquaintance of mine.

Purely in a non-sexual sense. I mean it! And, oddly enough, I never saw Anna Nicole nor touched her. I just somehow knew the identity of that (big) lump to my left.

So the acquaintance (“J”) is enthusiastically going on and on about some Lindy Hop Luminary Lady, which induces me to dream (within a dream) of this woman teaching me some Lindy Hop steps.

These turned out to be honest-to-goodness steps I learned a few months ago, but had forgotten I knew! This was my Lindy Angel!

And then I wake up. J’s just as excited as I am, and gets a jazz history book (one which I don’t own) off my shelf (which does exist), and points out that this Lindy Luminary is indeed historically famous. I marvel that this woman knew “my” moves! I’m also honored that J is sitting in my bed and helping me out (Anna Nicole still doesn’t quite register as anything more than a, ahem, large but unimportant presence; she’s still mute and moot).

And then I really wake up. I’m still confused but honored that J was in my dream, and I can’t wait to add those moves back to my repetoire and also write about the intricacies of this strange dream of a dream.

It’s 5:30pm, though, and I haven’t eaten anything since 4am the night before, when I pretty much emptied an entire tin of mixed nuts into my stomach. Sure, I couldn’t smell them, but how important is that with nuts anyway?

I made myself some spaghetti from leftover pasta and canned sauce plus bunches of extra dried red pepper flakes for that extra nose-clearing kick.

I ate. I reflected. I came back here to my computer.

And then I realized that I forgot 98.6% of the dream. My description above just scratches the surface of the strangeness that was involved in the layerdness, the significance, and the practical brilliance of the dream.

I’ve also pretty much forgotten those kick-ass Lindy moves that that Lindy Luminary (re)taught me. I remember, in fact, just enough to be frustrated about what I’ve remembered and forgotten.

And lastly, I don’t think I’m going to tell J about him being in bed with me, platonic or not, and it’s probably wisest not to let Anna Nicole know of this either.

Oh well. Back to the real world. Let me know if you find my dream, please.






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