Awesome Dream
I rarely remember my dreams. Mostly I remember feelings or a mood, or maybe just snippets. Conal remembers his dreams really well, and they are often weirdly coherent in a wacky dream-logic kind of way. I’m jealous. Mine are usually so weird they only make sense while I’m asleep.
Once in a great while a good one comes along, and I treasure it.
Last night, I dreamed was in a hospital-like place. I don’t know what its being a hospital had to do with anything. I had a sense of belonging, as if I worked there or something. I also sort of lived there, as if it was the whole world, hallways and lights and doors and shiny floors.
I was aware that I had a choice to make. There were two men who wanted to marry me, and I had not yet said yes to either one. It wasn’t a stressful thing, but rather pleasant.
One of my suitors was a young, kind of dorky guy. I don’t remember much about him other than a kind of sweet, inept dweebishness. Thick, rumpled brown hair, glasses and an earnest expression, now that I think of it. He had a puppyish youthful energy going for him.
While I was walking down a long hallway, the other gentleman came striding up behind me. My perspective was through the curtain of my long bangs hanging in my eyes. They were kind of annoying me. The other guy was… wait for it… Sean Connery. I kid you not. He looked dashingly craggy with salt-and-pepper hair, mature yet virile, still completely magnetic. Say, Medicine Man era. He didn’t have a ponytail, though.
I turned to speak to him as he came up alongside me. He saw my face and said, “Now, don’t Sandra Dee me!” I think he was referring to the hair curtain, but I don’t exactly know what he meant, and was puzzled even in the dream. I woke up not even remembering who Sandra Dee was. Googling the name as I write this, I wonder if he was referring to the actress, or the character/song in Grease that I read was inspired by her? And either way, dubya tee eff?
But the accent, oh my. The eyes!
Sir Sean (did you know he was knighted by Queen Elizabeth in 2000?) then set about making his case as the better candidate for marriage (still not kidding). He apparently knew I was worried about his age, and we had a very gracious and lively exchange as he described his excellent qualities as a lover and husband. “I can turn your body in ways…” he said (including the ellipsis), implying some kind of wonderful lovemaking technique, apparently. But it wasn’t icky, truly, he was just very elegantly and passionately lobbying for me to choose him over Dweeboy. He really thought he had a lot to offer me.
Phew. Is it getting warm in here? (Kidding now)
I stumbled on this black and white photo searching for the one above. He didn’t look like that in the dream, but it’s such a cool shot I had to share it anyway.
I woke up before I got to choose between Sir Sean and Dweeb Puppy, but I wasn’t sad at all. Who do you think I ought to have picked?
