Last night I dreamed I was at the grocery store but in every aisle it was just Marlboro Menthol Lights and bottles of Bombay Sapphire Gin...and I just kept loading the stuff into my cart like I was on Supermarket Sweep. Hmmm, wonder what my subconscious is craving?

Waking up this morning I smiled at John,and then I got kicked in the eye by the dog who was trying to push me away so that she could snuggle up with John a little more. I yelped more than a little and said, "Jeez! This is why I told Antwaan to leave you outside last night!" and then John's eyebrow raised quizzically.
"Antwaan?"
"Well...last night I had a dream where I was having dinner and drinks with Antwaan Randel El and then we went dancing and then we were dog sitting" I stated very matter of factly. (Now keep in mind that I don't really know much about football and I don't think I would recognize Mr. Randel El if he walked up to me and kicked me in the eye like my dog does on a daily basis).
"I didn't even know you knew who Antwaan Randel El was..."
"Well, I don't really. I guess I just heard his name when watching football with you."
"Really, he makes like 5 throws a year and he's only a semi-good wide receiver... [blah, blah, blah...]."
"Well whatever, somehow I know his name!"
"If you're having sex dreams about big football players you could just tell me..."
"It wasn't a sex dream! We were having dinner and I was all pregnant and I was smoking at the bar. Antwaan yelled at me for smoking and then he took me dancing. Most of the dream was just us dancing up a storm!"
John leaned over laughing, "Really? So it wasn't even sexy dancing?"
"Nope, we were just dancing fools, and I was really, really good...so I knew it was dream!" I laughed.
"That's probably the greatest dream ever, just dancing with an NFL player all night!"
"Yeah and then we went dog sitting and there were like 20 dogs and I thought it was going to be pure chaos but Antwaan and I held our own."
"You have really weird dreams..."
"Yeah, I know."

(First of all...let me say that you are reading my 1,000 post! That's not including my 5,000 drafts! Wooo! I'm so impressed with myself!)

John is a saint. It is very clear to me now that this is actually true and that I'm not just proclaiming it on the blog so that he gives me nookie. Sure, sometimes he's really bossy and he's always on me to be neater (which is really rough, I mean, my house is soo clean...and that's horrible right??!? Nope, I'm glad to be living with a neatnik), but all in all, he's pretty ok and here's why:

Picture yourself in a deep, deep sleep. You dream that you are in an exotic bathroom that is kind of like a hybrid bathroom/outdoor awesome bathhouse in the middle of the Amazon (I don't know, it was my dream and I can't even describe it). Butterflies are floating by you, and everything is verdant and lush. There, up on a mossy mound is a gorgeous toilet (? what constitutes a gorgeous toilet? I have no idea) and you sit upon it and...

...you are actually dreaming that you're peeing...which means that when you wake up you're actually peeing all over your husband!

Um yeah, that was me last night. Can't say that that has happened in about 25 years (not counting my drunken peeing sessions) but hey, it was a really engrossing dream and I gave John a golden shower without his consent. So what did he do about it?

John shrugged it off and moved to the floor with me, where we cuddled up and went back to sleep. Lysol and mattress flipping awaits me later. And yeah, I don't need to hear it...I put the gross in engrossing dreams. Seriously, yo.

PS. Sweetie, I think that means you get a couple of blowjobs and no dishes for a week :)

John shook me vigorously Sunday morning and said, "Hey, sorry...but I want to ask you a question. First you have to hear my dream". Still mostly groggy, I propped myself up on my elbows and listened to the following:

"We were in some big apartment building somehwere. We were all just hanging out. It was me, you, Tara, Tony, Shawn and Jen...perhaps a few others. You kept getting calls on your cell phone. And from what I could gather you were arranging to meet up with some guy. I confronted you and asked, "Are you going to see some guy tonight?!?"
Everyone steps in and says, "Sheesh John, you shouldn't talk to her about that." And then, I finally deduced that you were supposed to go on this date where you were going to sleep with some other guy but you acted like it wasn't a big deal. In fact, Jen said that it was a good thing that you were going to sleep with Punk Duck (yeah, that was his name...I don't exactly understand that) and that you should go out once every 12-16 months and sleep with someone to keep our "marriage fresh". Shaun steps in and says, "You didn't know? They were going to tell you!" And I said, "When? When were they going to tell me?!?" Shaun laughs and says, "In about ten days from now!"
At this point, you and I were in different apartments but we had the windows open and we were yelling back and forth. I shouted, "You want to throw this away? This is what you need?" And you simply yelled back, "Yeah, pretty much." Everyone I talk to just tells me that this is what you need and that it's healthy.

After telling me his dream, he said quietly, "So you don't really feel that way, do you? You're not going to go out and sleep with some Punk Duck guy, are you?" And I laughed, partly because John was so serious about his dream (and no, I'm not going to cheat on him to "rejuvenate" my marriage) but mostly because I kept thinking about Howard the Duck.

Last night I dreamed that I gave birth and then conked out. When I came to, John had named my daughter Padme. I either need to stop watching Top Chef or stop worrying that my husband is going to name a child after a character from Star Wars. But then again, I should stop looking for porn that's based on Star Wars after having a "lightbulb moment" (Thanks Dope-hra for the phase) that Star Whores would be a great title for a porno...and apparently, it is.

The other night I had this very vivid dream that John and I were in the process of a divorce (don't worry, no problems to relay or anything!! In fact we hit the six months of holy matrimony today). I woke up and to my surprise...he was laying next to me. I was still confused, so I woke him up and demanded, "Are we getting a divorce or was that just a dream?" Without opening his eyes (and actually, still asleep) he replied,
"No, go back to sleep. But I will tell you what today is...it's all Anal Penetration Day. You will be penetrated later."
I was very confused by this and couldn't help but laugh when I heard him snore immediately after stating this. He's the king of talking in his sleep. But...if I was dreaming about divorce, what the heck was he dreaming about? Hmmmm.

Then last night John woke me up in the middle of the night still deep in sleep. He shook me awake to tell me, "The monkeys are all in barrels!" and then he started giggling hysterically. I didn't get the joke, and I still don't.

Blame this post on watching One True Thing, the book slayed me and watching the movie (which isn't all that great) killed me a little bit more.

My mother has always played second fiddle to my father. She's my biological blood and yet she willingly took the back seat to my non-biological dad. Why? The only answer I can come up with tonight is the fact that she is an unfailingly good mother. I look at her (now, introspectively of course, but in reality, I've never really looked at her aside from physically...it's terrible), and I realize how truly blessed I am to have had the life that I've had--and it's all because of her.

She became pregnant at 18. She was unmarried and had been having a romance with an older man, I think it was all very exciting coming from the abandoned strip mine town that she did. She was (is) very intelligent and I was definitely going to "interfere" with her plans, her dreams...college. Because my family based our entire relationship on truth, when I was old enough she told me all about the feelings, the overwhelmingness of it all. She even told me that she went to an abortion clinic, that she sat in the waiting room, touching my non-existant self and when they called her name she stood up and walked out.

I don't see this as noble, I see this as an impulsive decision. I'm not against abortion (I know this will anger many people, but I could never decide for others. I don't believe that I would ever have one, but to choose for everyone?? That's not my job) I understand that I wouldn't be here had she not stood up and left...and believe me, I'm glad that she did. She made that choice at 18 as many women do, but when she did that, she became a mom. A real mom.

My mom almost never had a babysitter for me (two times that I can remember in my entire childhood). I blew out the candles on her 21st birthday, I have the picture to prove it. When I went to bed, her friends and my dad and her celebrated with bottles of champagne quietly after I was asleep. Date nights? I went on every single date my parents ever had. Was this healthy? Probably not, but it worked for all of us. I can't even imagine. My mom had no identity other than Mom and she never complained, although she probably should have.

Now my mom is 48 and my father (non biological), the true love of her life is dead and she started over. I'm proud of her. She met a man, has been with him for about three years and has built a life without myself and my dad. At first, I was jealous and vindictive child (at the age of 26). It's only now that I realize that this is the first time that she has a chance to live the life that she's dreamed (let me quote Thoreau if I may). This is the only time in her life that there has never been external expectations upon her...can you even imagine?? And she never complained, not once. Of course, there are people who would say that she couldn't complain because she made the decisions that she made, but this is reality, people complain daily. She never once did.

My mother is going to college at the age of 50, that's her goal and I'm proud of her. Because of my dad's tour in Vietnam we all received (basically) a free college education. As of today, I was the only one (out of the three of us) who took advantage of this. In fact, on graduation day my dad said to me, "It was almost worth losing a hand and a leg for this." I cried. I want to cry for my mom when she throws her cap. I hope that she does. She's deferred all her dreams and now, it seems, she is trying to live the life she was meant to live.

Last night was hysterical in its hi-jinx and creepy dreams, but it wasn't too conducive for sleep--I tossed, I turned, my arms fell asleep, I got laid upon by my husband who pretends in the middle of the night that I'm either the mattress or a pillow. You see, John and I went for wings. We weren't there long, but we were there long enough for me to come home roll around on the floor with John and the dog, then pass out on the couch while trying to watch Aqua Teen Hungerforce (which is kinda a little ritual that we have--watching ATH not the passing out...ok, maybe that too).

Apparently John undressed me, because I woke up this morning in only socks and when I went to grab my bra it was still clasped...he's the only man I've ever met that removes a girl's bra by pulling it over her head like a shirt. That got me to thinking about my dreams...but I said nothing at first because they were just soo weird. John said to me trying to distract me from my temper tantrum--I was beating the blankets whining about not sleeping enough, "I had some really crazy dreams last night," but he didn't know who he was talking to because in between getting woken up by John's sleep sneezing where he would do the following all in one swift motion:Sneeze. Sit Up. Flail arms. Hit me in the boobs--so while he was doing all that, I was having the weirdest dreams in the world.

First, I dreamed that I was trying to write a short story about mechanical sharks created by the government to kill people ( an odd little idea). Then I dreamed about the same sharks but this time they were out to get John and myself--it was like watching Jaws but my stumpy legs were in the shark's eyes view right before he chomped on me! Then I dreamed that John's mom was a heroin drug runner in a college town and that a shipment disappeared. For the rest of that dream we were frantically trying to get ahold of more heroin to replace the missing heroin so that we wouldn't be chopped into tiny pieces. We were not successful, unfortunately--I'd like to thank the creators of Fargo and Quentin Tarentino for providing me with enough bloody references to create a dream that was that gross! Then I dreamed that John and I were having sex...that turned out to not be a dream though, I think. Let me explain.

I asked John this morning, "Did you have sex my inebriated body last night?" as I picked up the His reply, "Maybe? Why do you ask?" I looked at his little grin and said, "Well I dreamed we had sex but I couldn't remember if we actually did or not." Johnny says to me with a straight face, "Well if you can't remember then...no, we didn't have sex last night."
He's such a rascal, and I honestly still don't know.