lucyoncolorado

In which I'm an epic bad guy...

The first was some sort of epic fantasy type dream. I can't remember much about it except that it involved battles and tricksters. I got the feeling that I was the bad guy.

In which I'm too ethical to snoop...
The second was that I opened by email only to find that my account had been swapped with my husband's cousin HC. At first I was alarmed that someone else must have my account. Then I realized that there was nothing personal or important in my email anyway. So I decided to snoop around in HC's email account. After about a minute of this, I started to feel guilty and logged out. I called him up and told him about it. This was a very boring dream, but I thought that maybe the emotions in it might be linked to the first. In the first dream, I was some sort of bad guy. In the second dream, I first got alarmed when I thought someone else might be reading my emails then realized I don't have anything to hide. I start to snoop and then correct myself like a good girlscout. So I just wondered if the two were related, emotionally anyway.

In which my father and I are in a jail cell with some thugs and my high school boyfriend...

My father and I were arrested. Apparently we'd done something stupid and illegal while drunk, but this took place before the dream plot started so I never knew what it was. The dream starts with us sitting in a holding cell. It's a wide cell like in old Western movies. There are iron bars on one side with a brick wall exactly opposite. The two short sides connecting the bars to the brick wall each have a small wooden bench. We are drunkards, snoozing on the benches. The bars slide open with a loud noise and we wake up, hung-over. We ask the cop if he is going to let us out, but he ignores us as he pushes in three other men. One is a chubby guy with curly hair. One is short and lanky. The third one, I can't see. The chubby guy sits down on the bench next to me, the lanky guy sits next to him and the third guy sits in a shadowed corner on the bench by my dad.

We've never been in jail before so we aren't sure how to talk to new cell mates. I ask what they are in for. They explain that they've beaten someone up and leer at us menacingly. I'm not afraid of them as we are in a jail cell and there are police officers all around. They give us the details of how they jumped a guy and beat and kicked him until he spat blood, broke his ribs and his teeth fell out. They think it is funny. This makes me feel really sad, down deep in my gut- the way I feel when I hear about serial killers or people who torture animals. It's sort of a sick hopelessness. I decide to ignore them and think about something else just to avoid how horrible I feel when I think about their victim. To distract myself, I start looking at the cops who are processing some more people- standing them in front of the camera for the mugshot and taking their fingerprints. I think to myself that I must've been really drunk when I got arrested because I can't remember any of that. With a shock, I notice that one of the new people the police are processing is my ex-boyfriend from high school- a guy I have not seen or thought about for years. We make eye-contact: me behind the bars and him standing for his mugshot. I look away fast and try to pretend that I didn't see him.

Meanwhile my father is telling the violent trio about how if they don't just shut up right now, he will beat each of them until their teeth fall out. They laugh at him and he laughs too, but his laugh is so crazy that it makes them get quiet. Then he stands up and in a maniacal way starts to act out and describe exactly how he will beat them up if they persist in talking about their victim. My father is not a violent guy and I've never seen him fight anyone, so I was really surprised to see this. He told them, "First I'll attack you, Big Curly Man" and then he explained how he'd jump the guy so fast that he wouldn't know what was coming and he'd be kicking in his skull by the time his friends tried to intervene. Then he'd impale the "Creepy Guy" with a piece of pipe he'd found in the cell and squish the "Little Fellow" with his free fist. By the time he'd finished acting this out, all the while shouting and laughing hysterically, the trio were silent. Nobody knew what to think of the display.

The cops pulled open the bars a second time and pushed in my high school boyfriend along with another guy who I didn't get a good look at. My high school boyfriend is a loser and an odd-looking guy, but I have a soft spot for him even though he is a creep. It might be pity. He looked terrible- dirty and haggard with rough skin and wild hair. He obviously hadn't shaved in days. I glanced at my father to see that he did recognize him. At first, my ex just pretended that he didn't recognize me, and I thought that was nice of him. He was giving me the opportunity to ignore him. But I decided to be mature and civil, so I stuck out my hand and shook his and told him that it was really weird to see him here. He agreed and lit a cigarette. I thought that it was really bad for him that he is still smoking since he has asthma, but I didn't say that. He looked sickly and coughed. I have asthma too so I asked him not to light up in the cell. It was a small space and if he smoked, it would make it difficult for me to breathe. Besides, I was pretty sure it was against the rules. He complied and put out his cigarette, but the member of the trio in the corner lit one up almost immediately afterwards as a sign of juvenille defiance. I rolled my eyes and went to stand by the bars to breathe the fresh air. I was going to let it go, but my dad stood up and walked towards him, snatched the cigarette out of his mouth and then stomped it out with his boot. The shadow guy said nothing.

Then the police came over to say that my husband had bailed us out. Things get fuzzy after this. We left the cell and had some discussion about what we had done in our drunken state the night before. We'd have to appear in court. I can't remember this part, but I remember feeling like it was something really stupid and dangerous though not harmful to anyone. My father went home, and my husband and I went to my mom's house. She was having some sort of party and asked us to help her curl the ribbons on the balloons using scissors. We sat on high stools at a tall round table that was full of craft supplies in a room that looked like a school workroom with lots of cabinets. There were a lot of people there, but I couldn't identify any of them. We worked at the ribbon curling and I told the story of what I did while drunk and how I got arrested. People were amused but also disapproved. I can't remember the rest very well- there was more after that but I don't remember it.

Taken with the other two dreams below, there is an obvious emotional link between them all. In all the dreams, I've done something wrong. In this one, I broke a law. In the boring one, I did something unethical. In the mostly forgotten one, I'm a bad guy in a battle.