Dieting? Gaining weight, losing weight? Beer, marijuana, coffee, wine? Brain? What’s this about?
Monday’s Bumper Sticker
Saturday’s Theme Music
So, you know, grocery shopping, and hungry. Lunch had been a few hours before, and light and healthy, and maybe a little sparse. Browsing the aisles, doing our standard shopping circuit, sampling foods, eyeing others’ carts to see what they’re buying, and judging them and ourselves for what we’re buying and not buying.
I’m hungry but skinny me is in charge of shopping today, along with healthy wife, two idealized versions of ourselves who examine everything with eyes and mind toward weight and good health. It’s a good thing, innit?
Meanwhile, unhealthy me is noticing, look, they have cake! Look at that cake! Oh, and that cake. And suddenly it seemed like everybody in Costco had a cake in their cart. I escaped Costco without a cake, though. On to Trader Joe’s. Back to get some healthy non-fat yogurt! See, it’s right there, by the CAKE and DONUTS. And breads.
We ogle the cake and donuts and talk about Trader Joe’s need to sell single donuts back there, that you can buy and eat, right there. They’re not, so we pass, moving on to the breads, which we fondle for freshness, sniffing them through the package while talking about good how they are.
I don’t speak of my cake desire to my wife the entire time. The cake desire has acquired the specific shape of carrot cake. Yeah, it’s my favorite, especially if it’s spicy with raisins. That’s like, yeah, orgasm. But I don’t pursue cake, don’t speak of it, etc.
Of course I dream of it. There’s cake everywhere in my freaking dream. I’m in a hallway with cake. I’m being offered cake, being told by a woman wandering, “Take whatever you want.” Every time that I go to get a piece, some event diverts me. I awake wanting cake for breakfast.
Which, while thinking of yesterday, talking to my rumbling stomach today, and reviewing my dream as I pursue my healthy oatmeal breakfast, brings the musical group, Cake, to mind, so here’s “Long Skirt/Short Jacket” (2000) just cuz I like it.
And, you know, cake. It’s a humorous video, listening to people’s comments about the song as they listen. Cheers
Her Smile
It began in her eyes and radiated down through her cheeks, touching her lips, becoming an aura as bright as sunlight on a clear winter day. Then the dark chocolate entered her mouth, and the smile grew impossibly sweeter.
The Food Offer Dream
Dreams last night were like I was watching through a kaleidoscope. Not much stayed with me.
One section I remember was a stylish, older woman asking me if I’d eaten. Post Malone’s song, “Circles”, played in the background. We were in a très modern house. Before I could answer her, she said, “You look as if you’re famished. We have very good food here.”
Before I replied — I was thinking that I’d politely turn her down — a tall white man with gray hair and matching goatee entered from another hall, to my right. She introduced him as my chef and said that he would feed me. The man said, “Yes, I make wonderful food, everyone says so. Tell me, what would you like to eat?” He was not dressed as a chef, but wore a black shirt under a light gray sport coat.
At that point, I said, “I’m not hungry,” but the woman at the same time said, “I’ll leave you two to it.” She left.
The man said, “Here, come this way, my kitchen is just here.”
I said, “I’m not hungry.”
We rounded a corner. A large kitchen was to the left. Dark, glistening counters were filled with plates of food. The man gestured toward them. “What would you like? Just help yourself. If you don’t see anything that you want, I can make it for you.”
I was still taking in the food. Besides the kitchen, a breakfast bar was covered with food. Past that was a well-lit dining room, with a table and buffet heaped with food. I saw roasts, turkeys, grapes, and bowls of fruit.
The man said, “Are you a person who likes to stand up or sit down when you eat?”
The segment ended.
###
Another that I remember was a montage of my late mother-in-law saying, “I suppose.” That was like her catchall phrase. Do you want to eat? Would you like Chinese food? Do you mind if we do x and x? To almost every query, she replied, “I suppose.” That’s all the dream segment was: her saying, in various ways, at different ages and settings, “I suppose.”
Crumbs
Crumbs populated his keyboard, slipping between the keys, forcing him to ponder, what did I eat and when did I eat it?
That made him hungry. He attempted to pick some crumbs up for closer examination, and perhaps to taste — just for investigative reasons, of course (that one looked like it may have come off a chocolate-chip cookie) (when did he eat a chocolate chip cookie?) -but the crumbs fled his efforts like kittens scattering at a noise, undermining his investigative process.
It did promote a greater appetite (if he trusted the messages that his stomach was issuing). Nothing healthy was offered for sale here, and he didn’t want to leave to eat somewhere else. Therefore, his logic forced him into a less healthy choice, which turned out to be a raspberry scone.
It was just a one-time deal, he told himself, so it would do no lasting harm.
He blamed it on the crumbs.
The Friends & Neighbors Dream
As the dream starts, my wife and I are in bed. I’ve awakened but she’s asleep. Gray light slipping through the upper windows makes me believe that it’s early morning. Cats are up and want fed. I oblige.
My neighbor comes in. I’m surprised and confused, wondering how he got in and why he’s there now. He’s apologizing for his behavior (no, not for coming in, but for other things). Not invested in that at the moment — it’s early, I haven’t had my coffee, and the cats are clamoring for attention — I basically try to dismiss him and get him back out. Then he asks to use our bathroom because his girlfriend is asleep in his place and he doesn’t want to wake her. I work out with a glance around that ‘his place’ is a door off the my living room. I don’t understand that arrangement at all. Concluding that his girlfriend is asleep in there, I close the door. He comes out of my bathroom, goes over, and opens that door again, explaining that he needs to keep an eye on her.
My wife awakens and joins me. I attempt to explain what’s going on, but things are becoming more chaotic by the second. Sunshine is streaming through the windows. I’m hungry. I go to find food. Before I can, others interrupt me.
The next thing I know, I’m outside of the house in a hilly, bushy terrain, and I’m putting up signs. They’re simple signs, white heavy cardboard on slender pieces of pointed, cut wood. I don’t know what the signs say; they seem to change as I look at them. Sometimes, I find that the signs that I’ve put up have been pulled out of the ground or aren’t there, exasperating the hell out of me. It’s like I’ll never finish.
Meanwhile, I notice that there’s food under bushes and trees — pancakes, wraps, burritos, sandwiches. Debating about whether I should pick them up as garbage, I decide to leave them there for animals to eat. As I continue rushing around, putting up signs, I encounter friends. None of these people is anyone that I know. Some complain that when I’m putting up signs, I’m in their way. They want me to move. I protest, why should I be the one to move? I need to put up these signs. Yes, I’m told, but it’s easier for you to pause, move aside, and let us go on, and then resume. I agree, just to end the stalemate.
I notice that the food under the bushes isn’t being touched. I thought birds or animals would’ve tone after it, then shrug it off.
My hunger has increased. Hearing music, I realize that a Beatles song is playing. As the melody flows, I recognize “With A Little Help From My Friends”. I don’t know where it’s coming from. Setting the signs aside, I think, I am so hungry, I must find something to eat. As I do, a woman at a neighboring house opens her front door and steps out onto her porch. “I’m making spaghetti,” she declares in a loud voice. “Who wants some?”
“I do,” I answer as others say, “Me.” We rush her house.
The dream ends.
The Déjà Vu Dream
I believe it was a dream. But —
I often enjoy oatmeal for breakfast. Berries, fruit, and nuts are frequently added for taste and nutrition.
A large bag of walnut pieces is kept in the refrigerator (so they won’t go rancid). As I pulled them out, I flashed on the bag falling open. Walnut pieces poured out.
Standing there, I didn’t recall anything like that happening to me, and thought that it was a dream. It seemed so startling real that I looked around to see if any walnuts were in the refrigerator or on the floor.
I remembered then that I’d been talking to someone as I was doing this. Music had been playing in the background. I was aware of the music and recognized it but I don’t know what it was now.
So many walnuts poured out of the back, it seemed like half of the bag had emptied. Yet, when I closed the bag, I was surprised to discover it was still almost full. But the refrigerator drawer had enough walnuts in it to fill another bag.
Whoever was with me hadn’t noticed anything going on, so I said, “Look at this. Look at all these walnuts.”
They asked, “Where’d they come from?”
Holding up the bag, I said, “From this bag. But the bag is still almost full.”
The other came over and looked. “Yeah, that’s something.”
End of dream (or memory).
I am about ninety percent certain that it was a dream. Thinking about it as I finished making my oatmeal, I chuckled to myself. Was I telling myself that I was nuttier than I realized?
###
After I typed this out, I saw a photo of a squirrel on the net. The photo triggered a fuller memory. The walnut incident was a dream last night.
After the walnuts had spilled out, etc., the dream continued. I’d gone outside. Two cats were present. One was ours and the other belonged to a neighbor. (Neither are cats that I know/recognize from life.)
My wife and I were trying to keep ourselves safe, along with the cats. To that end, the cats were kept in a large and hilly fenced yard with many trees, but the cats kept getting out. I kept asking, “How are these cats getting out?” Watching them, I’d discover a secret path or a hole in the fence and block it only to see them out there again, and discover that another secret way existed.
The neighbor’s cat then came in through a secret tunnel with a squirrel in their mouth. The squirrel was alive. I then noticed the yard had many squirrels. I concluded that the cat was going out, finding squirrels, capturing them, and bringing them in. As I realized this, I saw her coming in through another underground tunnel, carrying another squirrel in her mouth.
I told my wife what I was seeing. Then, remembering the walnuts, I rushed inside, got the bag of walnuts, and brought them out to feed the squirrels.
Dream ended.
The Cookies
“The cookies are easy to make,” she told Cindy after sharing the recipe with her. “You should make them when your grandchildren come up. They came up. It’d be fun.”
“Good idea. I will.”
A few days later, Barb ran into Cindy. “We made the cookies,” Cindy said.
“And…?”
“They burned.”
“What?”
“Tell me the recipe again.”
“You start with tortillas and cut them out with cookie cutters.”
“I did that.”
“Then you put them on the baking sheet and brush them with butter.”
“Butter! You didn’t mention butter.”
“I think I did…but, after you brush them with butter, you dust them with cinnamon and sugar.”
“Sugar! You didn’t say anything about sugar.”
“Do you want me to send you an email with the recipe?”
“No, I’ll have my son-in-law find them for me.”
The Dreams Return – Lost Shoe, Found Dog
The dreams returned, which is reassuring. I dream often and vividly, and not having dreams was having a friend away. Good to have them back.
I found myself camping with friends. I say camping, but it was a shelter — roof, floor, and walls, cutouts for windows but sans glass — although it did have a door — where we stayed. That event took place and the others I camped with left to cross the river.
I went to places unknown and then returned to camp again. Unplanned, I lacked food, gear, and shoes. Just trying to figure out how I was going to handle that when I heard the door open.
A woman with her children had arrived to stay for the week. Speaking with them, I discovered that I’d been camping with the woman’s husband the week before. I told them I’d vacate the shelter for them, but they waved that offer away, and offered me their food.
I then I had one shoe (black walking shoe) but not the other. How — where — when — did I lose my shoe? As I’m walking around in one shoe, a small, injured animal, a dog, arrived. I recognized it as an animal I’d been feeding the previous week and that it was a pet that belonged to my neighbor. Grey and brown, the dog resembled a fox. Its wound concerned me. I cleaned the wound with help from the woman, and then fed the dog. The dog seemed pleased and started wagging its tail.
The dream ended.
