Last night I dreamt that Dominic Monaghan wouldn't be my friend. The nerve. Seriously. I mean, in real life, there's no reason why an up-and-coming young film and television star would want to be my friend, but within the confines of my brain, he could at least come out for sushi or something.
The whole non-incident really bothers me. I'm afraid it could be symptomatic of a failure of imagination on my part. If I was at my full fantastical strength, I could bag any number of imaginary friends. But last night I behaved exactly as I would have in real life: I was self-conscious, I said ridiculous things, I was dressed like a ten-year-old boy and I think I may have spilled a drink on Dom. You'd think that, given the relative limitless ability of the brain to conjure up dreams depicting everything from talking dinosaurs to underwater cities to unaided flight, I'd be able to carry on an intelligent conversation with another person. But no.
In his dreams, Eric regularly hangs out in record stores with Paul Weller, as the two of them buy armloads of inexplicably discounted, rare imports he's spent years looking for. I, on the other hand, have recurring dreams about packing suitcases.
There's always some impending disaster (volcano, fire, stampeding herd of wildebeests [incidentally, why isn't this spelled "wildebeasts"?]) and I'm forced to pack up all my irreplaceable belongings, get in the car and GO. Instead, I spend the whole dream engaged in a prolonged effort to define "irreplaceable." My diaries? Sure. The cats? Certainly. A particularly well-fitting pair of jeans? Hell yes. The list gets longer and longer, until I'm packing duplicate copies of paperback novels, my favorite pair of knee socks, my Tempur-Pedic pillow and a box of tea bags. Luckily, the lava and pounding hooves never manage to reach my door before I wake up, but what the crap kind of way is that to spend an evening of otherwise potentially promising REM sleep? Please.
So last night, when Dom and I could have been holding court at Jones or Cafe du Nord, keeping our friends entertained as the Sapphire and tonics flowed freely, I completely blew it. I'm just hoping I don't have a similar dream tonight, thereby setting the stage for a 2005 marked by an unsatisfying sleeping life filled with grocery outings and visits to the podiatrist.
Well, Happy New Year, anyway. Wish me luck.
You can find more of the interesting word usements I structure on Apple.com.
Read my article, Better Writing Through Design, on No. 242 of A List Apart.