The past two nights I've remained alcohol free. I'm doing this Shotgun Theater Festival that required me to write a 10 minute play in 24 hours. Well I have to work so I really wrote it in three hours. Talk about satisfying. I needed my mind to be in pristine condition to let all the creative juices flow, and it worked. But because of it I had two nights full of really depressing dreams. Ugh. And now, due to my past few entries and talking about these dreams it's going to seem like all I ever think about it boys. Really, only half of my thoughts are dedicated to thinking about boys. I'm not going to go into detail, just a short summary of the dream and how sad of a reflection they are on me.
The first night I dreamt about Mr. Big*, and how we're supposed to go to Atlantic City together. He arrives at my parent's house, says he too tired to go and doesn't really feel like going with me anyway. Frustration ensues. I don't know why he bothered driving there to begin with then, to just lay around on the couch.
Second night, I dreamt I was at Berger's* friend's house, for a party. At one point we were being all cuddly, and then he pushes me away. He says something like, "I don't actually want to be with you." I'm confused, since we had just been all cuddly. Then he says, "And I do have my beautiful, but spoiled, girlfriend. My suicide girl Lucide." (Pronouced Lou-cede. Which is weird in itself. It sounds like lucid...dreams...yeah.) I freak out, per usual, because I don't understand why he wants to be with someone spoiled and why there was no meantion of her on his Facebook (ugh). And that he's capable of being in a relationship. Really? I think the dream ended with me screaming "I hate you. I never want to speak to you again!" Or something to that extent. I probably cried too.
Hi self esteem, it's me, Dana, where the heck did you go? I woke up both mornings with the sads. I quickly got over them, but still felt it necessary to write about these dreams. Both dreams are somewhat based on truth and reality. Mr. Big having a tendency to be tired a lot, and Berger not wanting to be with me (circa 2006). I can understand why I had the Mr. Big dream, but the Berger one? Not sure. Merely talking to someone makes you have frustrating dreams about them? I guess so. But really, who dates a girl name Lucide? Who's a suicide girl...how 2001! I can't believe I'm judging dream girlfriends. Why couldn't either of these dreams involved said guys and had been happy? Or at least sexual? You know, the fun kind of dreams. I would have taken one good dream with Mr. Big and one bad dream with Berger. Thanks.
Actually, I know why this happened. I'm annoyed with both of them at the moment. Maybe even always. Our relationships with each other is always frustrating and annoying and difficult. Fuck. (Well, that's generally being the only good thing to come out of them.) And they have the same name. Go figure. What a cruel world. So this all has to do with men being lame and making me have undesirable dreams and my dryspell and that I hate everyone. AHHHH. End scene.
Seth Meyers, when are you going to sweep me into your nerdy arms and take me away from it all??? We can go on dates, and then write about it! And you can confide in me that you're the rumored "SNL" sex addict. Weeeeeee!
* Even I am not immune to comparing my life to "Sex and the City." The Mr. Big in my life has had that nickname for years, used mainly in the blogoshpere. The Berger comparitive came into realization this past weekend, because this person both looks like Ron Livingston, and acts like Berger. Thank goodness Adian is long out of the picture.