For the last three or four weeks in a row, my subconscious and libido have been bombarding me with dreams – sometimes two in the same night – of romantic connections.  A couple of the dreams have involved people I know in real life, but the vast majority of them involved new people.  The shortest possible way to describe them is that I’m usually out somewhere doing something, and I meet someone in one of a variety of ways, and we have this instant and deep rapport.  Sometimes we end up going off together, and sometimes we don’t, but there’s always the feeling of overwhelming mutual connection.

Last night, though, I had a very interesting variation on this theme.  I had two dreams, the first of which was a surreal version of this type of dream, but the second I spent trying to explain it (in a very nonsensical, funny and completely incorrect way) to my friend, after he and his wife got in an argument.

The first one I’ll keep short.  I’d just met someone, and we had made plans to meet later that day.  I was home changing my clothes, and the air started to ‘wobble’, and she slowly started to materialize in the room near where I was standing.  “Wow, you can do that?” I asked, as I pulled a black sweater over my head.

“Sure can,” she said.

“But doesn’t it negatively affect space-time?”  [ASIDE:  That’s a very ‘Doctor Who’ thing to ask, and so is the materialization out of thin air thing; clearly I’ve been watching a lot of that show lately.]

“Yes, it does, but I try not to do it very often, so I don’t accidentally end up in two places at the same time.  That would be a problem.”  She had become fully incarnate (such a strange word) by now, and stepped into my arms.  We kissed each other gently.  As the dream progressed, and we’d been seeing each other for a little while, she would occasionally materialize somewhere, and we got to the point where I could reach through the air and find her at the slightest movement of air, so that she’d pretty much show up right in my arms.

The dream changed, and I was driving in Northwest PDX in my red Honda to meet her at her place downtown.  It was during the winter, and the roads were icy.  My car slid crazily across both lanes of the narrow residential road, and ended up on the sidewalk.  I kept trying to regain control of it, but it was to no avail.  It slid along the wall of a large brick building, which smashed the passenger side, and then it bounced into a telephone pole, but still kept running.  I uttered a rapid-fire series of F-bombs under my breath as my car slid all the way to the end of the street, and finally came to a rest when it slammed sideways into a guard rail.  Unhurt but unable to find my cell phone, I climbed out of the car and started to walk in the direction of downtown, thinking, “How am I going to get to her, or to let her know about this?”

* * * * *

That’s where the first dream ended, and when I finally was able to get back to sleep three hours later, that’s pretty much where the second one picked up.

* * * * *

I was walking along the road, trying to remember where I’d left my car.  I had a feeling that my lady friend was going to be angry, or at least disappointed, by my extreme tardiness.  Just then, one of my friends drove by, with his wife in the passenger seat.  They rolled down the windows of their four-door Cadillac and asked if I needed a ride.  I agreed, and quickly jumped into the back seat.

Before long, they started to argue about something, and I became very uncomfortable.  My friend got angry and started driving erratically, at sixty miles an hour along Burnside, weaving across all three lanes.  I told them, “That’s okay, really; you guys can just drop me off anywhere.  I can get around fine.”

He slowed the car down and pulled over, but when he stopped, his wife got out, shouting, “How could you do this?  I’m so angry at you!”

He retorted sarcastically, “But you were only angry from twenty-five to sixty,” referring to how fast he’d been driving.  “Until then, everything was just great.

The dream changed again, and he and I were at his house, in the kitchen while he made dinner for his two young daughters.  I was telling them all that I’d had this crazy dream and met this woman who could materialize at will out of thin air.  “I wish I could remember her name – MacLean or MacKean, or something like that – she was a model for a jeans company of the same name, which she owned, and she was also going to create her own flavor of Doritos.”  From nowhere, I pulled out a bag with plain black packaging.  I held the bag toward my friend and his daughters, who looked skeptically back and forth from the bag to me and back again, so I told them the first thing that came into my head, which was an absolute lie.  “I work for Frito-Lay, and they’ve been developing these for quite a while now, so it’s totally okay.  They don’t taste like normal Doritos, though; see for yourselves.”  I grabbed a handful and popped them into my mouth, and the three of them tentatively followed suit.

Oh, how I wish I could remember the rest of this dream, but you’ll have to take my word for the fact that this one was by far the most interesting of the bunch, which is why I haven’t shared any of the others.

Thank you, Subconscious and Libido.