The Dali of Dreams

...Last night's dreams were blog-worthy....
   
          ...I dreamed that I was in a car being held up by a random person, he seemed like a gang banger from the way he dressed. I his my purse under my sweater but he saw my beautiful gold wristwatch and said, "That looks like a nice watch." I tried to tell him that it wasn't, that I got it for $10 at the bottom bargain clearance sale off of QVC.com but he walked around the car, smashed the window and pointed his gun in my face. "Give it to me," he said. I handed it over and went to surreptitiously grab my iPhone when he said "where's your money?" I shook my head, "no," wondering why no one was calling the police.  A few more gang members surrounded the car and one of them was GARY OLDMAN...

               ...Gary Oldman looked at me and said, without an accent by the way, sounding almost more like Brian Cranston in Breaking Bad, "Give me your money." I handed over my purse. "Look," I said, pulling out my wallet with a picture of my niece in the front see-through pocket, "Don't take this, my passport, or this my social security card, or my iPhone. I'm on my way out of the country...." He hit me in the head with his gun. I blacked out...


                    ...When I came to, I was in a police station, sitting next to Gary Oldman. They were arresting all of us. No one could explain why I, the VICTIM, was being arrested and thrown into ail with the very gang members, and Gary Oldman, who had just robbed and assaulted me. The officer in charge of me was a very beautiful blond woman, beautiful in a 50 year old lawyer, Murphy Brown kind of way. I asked her why I, the victim, was in jail. She said I could talk about that later. I said, "At least let me stay close to this fool. He has my passport!" I nodded at Gary Oldman. She shrugged and said, "Sure."...

                         ...The jail we were put in one was more like an old 19th century hospital. There were no cells, no bars, no locks on any doors, and all of the cops were rather kindly, matronly ladies. I screamed and shouted at the Blonde Officer in charge of me, and she just continued to shrug. "Where was my lawyer?" I asked. I ran through the list of attorneys I knew, mostly all entertainment attorneys specializing in contracts. There was my childhood friend, who was some sort of County Prosecutor. But I figured I'd call my massage client, the most famous attorney I knew, because he was friends with Arnold Schwarzenegger and therefore knew more people and had more money to break me outta this joint...

....The announcement came over an old-school speaker system that it was time for bed. I looked around and there was no bed. "Hey," I called out to Blonde Cop Lady, "where's my bed?" She shrugged and said, "You'll have to share with Gary." Gary and I looked at each other with deep consternation. "Fine," I said, grabbing the full-length body pillow. "This goes between us." He started crying. "I need that body pillow for my rest," he said. I sighed. "Here," I said. "Take it." He smiled and said, "Thank you." "Hey," I whispered, "Where's my passport and my phone and my money!?" "I hid it in a special place where no one can find it and when we get outta here I'll take you to it and give it back to you."...

          ...The next day, they put us to work. My job was in the pantries, sweeping up rat poo poo. The rats were hanging around as well. They were bold, in fact, almost friendly. Anyone who knows me knows I have a deep fear of rats. Deep, strong, visceral, practically debilitating. These rats were so friendly it drove me nuts. They were of every color: brown, black, white and gray. They pooped everywhere. Everywhere! The only way I could keep myself from going completely insane was by singing...

               ...Later, my Blonde Cop Lady came up to me. She was wearing a sort of Oriental peekaboo wiggle dress and lots of eye-liner. It dawned on me she was Rebecca DeMornay. "I heard you singing," she said. I nodded, yes, miserably washing down the pantry floors once again. "Can you sing 'A Tisket, a Tasket?'" I nodded, yes. "Like Ella?" she pressed. "Yes," I said, practically in tears and nauseous from the fear of rat disease. "Great," she said, "Come with me."...

                    ...Michael Bloomberg was getting married for a consecutive marriage in Central Park. They brought me to the stage in front of thousands and thousands of people. I wore a dark purple wiggle dress. The microphone was like my old school 1930's style Shure Super 55. I leaned into the microphone. The band started. "A tisket, a tasket, a brown and yellow basket," I began. The crow went wild. Really. REALLY REALLY REALLY wild. They starting  cheering and I just kept singing and swinging...

                         ...My next appearance, my national TV debut, was to be on a Reality Television Competition called "America's Top MILF." As the finalists, showing off their fashion designs from the most recent competition category "Haute couture hiking and breast feeding outfits for the Modern Milf" and they announced the finalists for the next category (the gal wearing just the shorts and suspenders part of lederhosen, she was also Australian and had very large breasts... well, she was lactating anyway) I came out and sang "If I could turn back time" by Cher. The Crowd went WILD....

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I awoke with a start. it was 7 am and my alarm was going off. Henry was already stretching in a perfect down dog. It was Thursday morning. I felt hung over even though I haven't had a drink of alcohol in years. It had all been a dream! Just a... frightening, bizarre, and yet wonderful dream!

I decided to share it with you all here on the public intergalactic interwebs because anyone who knows me will know that it features my two biggest, most irrational fears (Wrongful Incarceration and RATS) and my biggest DREAMS (singing in Central Park in NYC to thousands of fans who actually WANT to hear me sing, singing on television, hanging out with Gary Oldman- I mean, Immortal Beloved and the Professional, for goodness' sake!).

Time to walk the dog!

love,

Erin E, 'the Dali of Dreams'