Flippy - I Rant, You Read
Saturday, October 21, 2006
..And Don’t Call Me Shirley - Call Me Shirleen
Are you prepared to enter the crazy place I call a brain? I’m going to try to transcribe in a linear manner, my wacky dreams from yesterday morning. My guesses about the appearances of everyone and everything will be in italics.
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This dream started with me doing loans, but seemingly in the back of some expensive red sports car. Oh geez, I just realized, it could be a red Ferrari. (Tie Domi drives a red Ferrari) Anyway, in the back of the above-mentioned sports car, I was talking to a guy on the phone. Apparently I’d applied for a job with him, but he was being a huge jerk and he said that he couldn’t do a home equity loan with the info that I gave him. He acted like it was the most ridiculous request he’d ever heard. (Leigh-Ann has been talking to a couple of guys about working for them doing loans, and marketing them online. A friend told me that she and her partner wanted a home equity line of credit to put another bathroom in their house. Plus, there’s been lots of applying for jobs in our household this week) Appropos of nothing, I was in some really great looking mansion that looked like the house from “Rock Star”. I specifically remember the floors being really nice and looking like the fancy laminate Saltillo tiles we want to replace our hideous linoleum in our kitchen and family room downstairs. I have absolutely no idea what I was doing there, but apparently I was sharing the house with Barbra Streisand (she’s been in concert...and in the news for telling a heckler to “shut the fuck up”), who showed up at the house with like a dozen little dogs on leashes. I’ve never particularly liked Barbra Streisand, and I doubt I’d like her in real life. However, in my dream, she was super nice and I think we talked about dogs.
The next part of the dream is the part that went on the longest. I don’t really think most of it needs explanation. I dreamt that Leanne (the one without quotes; i.e., the real one) posted something mean about me on her blog. I don’t remember what it was, but I remember thinking that it wasn’t fair. So, I decided to go see her since she wouldn’t talk directly to me. I don’t know what country we were in, but I do know that we’re 3000 miles or so apart, but perhaps I teleported, like Hiro on “Heroes”. Anyway, I thought she was working at a bookstore, so I went to what vaguely resembled a mall to me. I went up an escalator and there was a really large area at the top of the escalator with lots of people wandering around. For some reason, there was a really cool (why it was cool, I have no idea) stamp machine against one wall. I wish I’d looked at it, so I could’ve figured out what country I was in. So, I look in what I think is a bookstore and see Leanne. She seems to know who I am, even though we’ve never met. I guess if I can teleport to the mall, she can recognize a stranger. She doesn’t seem surprised to see me. The place really is a bookstore, and she’s working there, but as I’ll find out later, she doesn’t work in a bookstore. I’m not sure how that works. She looks the same as she does in pictures, but her hair is, uh, puffy. I’m not sure how to describe it, but maybe when you find out her name in the dream, you’ll understand.
Leanne tells me to come back to her office. So, we go upstairs to her office, and it’s like what you see normally when you’re behind the scenes of a big department store. When I was a teenager, I worked at both Robinson’s and The May Co., before they were Robinsons-May, and it looked exactly like the suite of offices either upstairs or behind customer service. Anyway, we go to her office, and she has me sit down and wait. There’s a plaque either on her door or on her desk, I don’t remember which, and it says her name is Shirleen (the last name is like Pagnoski or something, but I didn’t write it down, so that part’s lost to me), and that she’s the Executive VP & Travel Coordinator of Skin So Soft. How those go together, I have no clue. (my friend, Victor, just got a new job involving corporate travel - we used to work together at United Airlines, so that may play into it) For one, she was just downstairs in a bookstore, for another, Skin So Soft isn’t even a company, it’s a product made by Avon. I think she’s finally going to talk to me, but then she invites people into her office for a group job interview. There are four other people, I think. I don’t even know what the job is, but I’m supposed to act like I’m interviewing too. The four of them are sitting in front of her desk, and I’m to the side, on the same wall, but on the other side of the door from them. (I did have a job interview of sorts on Monday & Tuesday, but it was on the phone, and the person I talked to was definitely not Shirleen) Uh, Shirleen is asking some average job interview questions of everyone, including me, which freaks me out a bit. I hate job interviews under the best of circumstances, but this is too weird. I don’t want whatever job it is and I don’t want to be in a room with her and four strangers. The dream ends with Shirleen showing us a beer commercial with animated animals and cavemen, then asking us our opinion about the commercial. I say, “Animated animals sell a lot of beer?” That’s when I woke up. Not only do I not know what went on with “Shirleen” (I have never, in my life, seen that name before - what the hell does it mean?) in real life, it’s even frustrating in my dreams. I can’t believe I figured out how to teleport for that. If I’m asked about a commercial someday, I hope I can come up with something better than “Animated animals sell a lot of beer?” I’ve embarrassed myself in a dream.
The next two dreams are short. In the first one, it started with me entering a strange house. It was like going up a plank. When I got into the house, there were a few people milling about. One of them was Geena Davis. Why? No idea. There was also a smarmy car salesman who was mad about being stuck in the house because he had cars to sell or something. The guy was a guy from my mortgage agent class, but that guy doesn’t sell cars...and I liked him. He wasn’t smarmy at all, he was nice. Then, they told us that we had to campaign for a Republican. A Republican who had pointed at some guy on a cruise and said, “He’s gay!”. Heh, Republicans are getting such bad publicity, they’re doing stupid things in my dreams too. Anyway, there’s no way I wanted to do that. I decided to stick with Geena, as I figured she’d know what to do. That’s how the dream ended. I have no idea what it meant, except that our mortgage agent instructor told us that she’d been cast in a reality show. Because of her contract, she couldn’t tell us which show. One of the few personal things we knew about her was that she loves to travel, so maybe us thinking that she wouldn’t be on Big Brother is why something like Big Brother was in my dream. I don’t even watch the show.
The third dream was just about feeding foster kittens. We had so many kittens and they were so many ages that I couldn’t remember who got bottles and who got solid food. They were all over the place, inside and outside, and in trees. That’s all there was to that dream. But, we do have foster kittens, but there are only three of them. They’re not outside, ever. Perhaps it was just one of those “everything is out of control” dreams. It’s been a crazy week, so that makes sense.
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Ok Shirleen, that is just too messed up.
Jack's Raging Mommy on 10/22 at 02:42 PM
