The little voice in my head has come down with a nasty cough, so I'm all cozy in my Calvin Klein sweatpants (9.99 at Ross), relaxing with my laptop. It's been awhile. Today I'm gonna talk about dreams. The kind you have while you sleep, that is. I have a very vivid dream life, but sometimes when I'm under-exercised and over-stressed, I can't remember them. Which was happening to me until about the time I went on spring break when...

A few weeks back I woke up from a nightmare, shaking and crying. The basic context of the dream was that I had unintentionally caused my new friend physical harm which would have a lasting effect. Even after I woke up from it, I was a wee bit crazed and weeping, and it took me a while to fall back to sleep. For several days later, I would almost flashback to it, and I realized that the feelings I had in my dream and freshly waking from it would not go away. I could not bear the thought of hurting him in any way. I would even compare the feeling to the way I get whenever the little voice in my head is in pain that I can't alleviate.

Which is whoaaaa. Right? I mean, I already knew from an illness he suffered a couple months ago that I wanted to play nurse (and not even naughty nurse, although that has merit - I mean that I wanted to make him chicken noodle soup and bring him cool rags for his forehead). But this goes even beyond that, I think.

The next dream I had was last week. I often have dreams of my maternal grandmother (deceased since I was 17) and always in her trailer. Sometimes it's just me in her trailer sorting through her things after her death, or just sleeping there. Other times it's me, her, family members, other relatives who've died, and we're all just having a ball. Her trailer has a lot of significance for me. It's a symbol of comfort and security, because it was the only place during my childhood (aside from Disneyland) where I felt safe and completely like a child. So in this last dream, she was there with my Daddy Ed (her longtime love) and I was there with my new friend, and we were preparing for a sleepover and a family gathering the next day. And it was awesome. I almost felt like they actually met. Plus, she really liked him. So that was good.

Then last night I dreamed that Matthew Perry was trying to get me (in a sexual way, that is). This is the second time I've been chased by him in my sleep. Which is weird in itself. I'm don't find him all that attractive. He's quirky and funny, but...Anyway, he totally disappointed me. There was no spark at all, and nothing sexually satisfying in any way, and I woke up thinking, "He's no Denver, yo." Then today I was so sexed up at work (end of my monthly Inquisition makes me even more feisty than usual) that I caught myself fantasizing about the next time one of us gets off the plane instead of reading the contract in front of me. It must have been a full ten, fifteen minutes (long enough to finish, wink-wink).

So I've been going from concerned to tender to comfortable to passionate. And man, he makes me laugh so hard. There's this new riff he's got about my sad lack of comfortable bedding that...well, I could go on and on.

This whole thing might be construed as passive-aggressive, because I know he's going to read this - I knew it before I warned him today that I was going to write about him. But this is how I work things out. I write them down. And all this stuff has been going through my head over and over, so I thought this was the place to write it.