Alochol, chili, and the subconscious.
Jan. 29th, 2012 01:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
matt_doyleConspire to give me the strangest dreams.
A dream that was mostly about the real weirdnesses of my own family transformed itself last night into a soap opera. I was the child of two extravagant, bitter divorced millionaires, played by Helen Mirren and James Caan, who were vying for attention while I visited for the holidays.
Later on, there was a subplot about espionage, and as one of a pair of undercover agents (the other one played by Mary Elizabeth Winstead, still with her Scott Pilgrim hairdo... though I believe she was actually supposed to be one of my online friends) investigating the mob, I had to use a fire ax to ward off a dozen mafia thugs when a plan to smuggle the other agent to safety in a large cardboard box failed miserably.
The narrative broke down from there, so I'm not sure why I was icefishing from a snowplow, and there are frustrating fragmentsb of imagery that I know made sense at the time but now, divorced of context, do not.
I think this all stems from me commenting to friends last night that, before Megan, my love life was nearly a soap opera, and my brain deciding to show me what a real sapoperatic life would be like.
Props to my mental casting department, though.
A dream that was mostly about the real weirdnesses of my own family transformed itself last night into a soap opera. I was the child of two extravagant, bitter divorced millionaires, played by Helen Mirren and James Caan, who were vying for attention while I visited for the holidays.
Later on, there was a subplot about espionage, and as one of a pair of undercover agents (the other one played by Mary Elizabeth Winstead, still with her Scott Pilgrim hairdo... though I believe she was actually supposed to be one of my online friends) investigating the mob, I had to use a fire ax to ward off a dozen mafia thugs when a plan to smuggle the other agent to safety in a large cardboard box failed miserably.
The narrative broke down from there, so I'm not sure why I was icefishing from a snowplow, and there are frustrating fragmentsb of imagery that I know made sense at the time but now, divorced of context, do not.
I think this all stems from me commenting to friends last night that, before Megan, my love life was nearly a soap opera, and my brain deciding to show me what a real sapoperatic life would be like.
Props to my mental casting department, though.
