April 14, 2004

House Of Dreams

Considering that I'm closing on my house Friday afternoon, I guess I really shouldn't be surprised that the stress of the whole deal is now snaking its way into my unconcious mind and is affecting my dreams.

Ponder this little bit of nocturnal imagery from last night:

I'm now officially moved into my house, except it looks nothing at all like the real house. And, for some reason, I decided to put my bed in the unfinished basement and make the entire basement my bedroom. I also discovered, much to my surprise, that the acreage that came with the house also features an abandoned trailer home and a dilapidated house, both of which will have to be torn down, and I find myself worrying about what the cost will be to dispose of all that trash.

Suddenly, the dream plops me in my bed (in the basement), and I'm laying there listening to footsteps upstairs, and I end up thinking something along the lines of "Oh, well, I suppose I should have expected ghosts to be hanging around."

There's a knock at the door. I emerge from my bed, naked, and before I can even throw on some boxer shorts, the person at the door just comes in and doesn't find it at all odd that I'm standing there in the nude. She's part of a neighborhood housewarming troupe!

One by one, people keep filing through the door, giving me housewarming gifts and offering to help me tear down the trailer home and dilapidated shack, because they've always thought of them both as neighborhood eye sores. Although still naked, I'm grateful for the gifts and offers. Everyone is commenting about the ghostly noises coming from upstairs and they offer up advice for how best to get rid such residual apparitions. They all seemed to agree that I should call Dr. Peter Venkman and Egon

Then, Roger Ebert enters the house, and his gift to me is some sort of suped-up GameBoy, which is about the size of a laptop computer, and it has the most recent release of Gauntlet playing on the screen. It's the coolest housewarming gift EVER, and it's made even cooler because it came from Roger Ebert, who didn't seem at all nonplussed about my perpetual nudity.

I then woke up.

You may commence with your dream analysis. . . now.

Posted by Ryan at April 14, 2004 12:51 PM

Dream analysis number one, you like the idea of strangers seeing you naked and you have a secret crush on Roger Ebert.

Dream analysis number two, you really wished you'd bought a trailer and you have a secret crush on Roger Ebert.

Dream analysis number three, you like the basement because you secretly don't believe that you are good enough to own a house and live in the "grown up" portion of it so you moved into the basement and you want to have Roger Ebert's love child.

And finally, #4, you wish you were a leprechaun who could sit on Roger Ebert's shoulder and whisper naughty things to him while he's talking about movies and you have a secret dream to be a Ghostbuster so you can sleep in a firehouse and slide down the pole alot.

Posted by: Johnny Huh? at April 14, 2004 03:35 PM
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