Dreams

Both Joel and I dream frequently, and usually also remember them in detail. A few weeks ago Joel dreamed that he was wrestling Nephilim. Two nights ago I dreamed that I was kidnapped by a witch who forced me to watch both funny and sad movies so that when I reacted to them she could capture my emotions (sort of like Ursula taking Ariel's voice in the Little Mermaid, I think). It is understandable that a good deal of Joel's dreams involve him fighting someone or something; however, my dreams are much more varied and generally result from something I've seen or done the day before. I refused to watch the movie No Country for Old Men because I knew that if I did the serial killer would somehow end up in my dreams. So Joel watched it without me. Nevertheless, the serial killer still ended up in my dreams and terrorized Joel and I and our two children (very cute little girls, incidentally).
My mother suggested that I start writing down my dreams in the morning when I wake up. While I haven't done that yet, one of our recent Declamation assignments was to relate a dream. So here it is:

I have noticed that whatever I read before I go to bed will often have a direct influence on my dreams. Most recently, I have been working through Anna Karenina, and this particular book has definitely given me some of the most interesting dreams. Not surprisingly, they are almost always about social status.
So in my latest Karenina dream, I am shopping in a grocery store when a man in his 30s approaches me in the produce department. He politely asks if I know the population of alpacas in various portions of California. I’m taken off guard. This seems like an unusual question, so he hastens to explain. Studies have shown that areas where the alpaca population is higher have proven to also produce the best-tasting wine.
Now I’m tracking, but unfortunately so is everyone else in the grocery store who, I’ve noticed, have begun to cast rather pointed side-long glances at us. And that’s when the panic sets in. Remember how this is an obsessive social status dream? Suddenly I recall that since I am a married woman, carrying on a conversation with a man who is most obviously not my husband in the middle of a grocery store is enough to slap a scarlet A on my forehead. I start to panic, as he is rambling on about alpacas and wine country, obviously oblivious to the coals of disgrace he is heaping on my head.
But then the magic words spill out of his mouth: “My wife and I love California.” And immediately all the disapproving looks on people’s faces are replaced with smiling ones, and people go about their business without another glance at us. Because as everyone in my dream knows, it is completely acceptable to carry on a conversation with a woman in a grocery store, provided that you mention your spouse at least once in the conversation.