HUH?mosexual

I am in an unfamiliar apartment that belongs to a male college friend of mine.  Wait, apparently, we are a couple.  I think to myself, "Isn't it funny that I'm dating a guy now?".  Indeed.  We are laying on a black leather couch.  We start making out and such and then it gets to the part where I'm supposed to give him a BJ.  I approach the area, but can't actually locate the target because my hair keeps getting in the way (my long hair has returned for this dream).  I dodge this bullet, yesss!
I look up and my boyfriend has turned into a female friend.  I already feel much better.  It's still a little weird because she's a friend, but at least the anatomy is right.  We are lying next to each other on the same couch, in the same apartment being giggling girls.  Her cell phone rings.  During the phone call (?), we start making out.  While she's still TALKING on the phone, we proceed through all the steps that usually follow makeout (very vivid) and she finishes.  As I come up for air, she says, "Anyyyway...I'm sorry, what were we saying?"  Terrific, guess it was good for you.

my empty hand felt cold and unused

I had more than one dream about holding hands last night.

In one, a good friend of mine and I were holding hands.  It made me feel calm and secure, but wasn't part of the plotline.

In the next dream, I am in Catholic high school, but not the one I went to; the uniforms are much uglier.  Also, in this school, we have nap time.  We all lay on thin exercise mats on the gym floor and now that I'm looking around, this may be an all girls school.  The girl I like lays on the mat next me and we reach over and grasp each other's hands.  I get that too-often-forgotten puppy love warmth.  It's pure and it's innocent.  Just being with this person makes me completely happy.  Following the brief flash of respite, I am terrified that we will be caught.  Sure enough, a teacher walking in between the rows of napping teenagers spots our intertwined fingers.  We are reprimanded and another student is placed in between us.  The distance is painful.  The following day, we cannot stand to be separated any longer, so we reach across the girl between us.  As a teacher approaches, we find an ally as our human wall covers for us.  We are safe...for now.


"...and my empty hand felt cold and unused. I'm quite alright, I'll get by just fine.  I'm not depressed, not most the time.  It's just the fun stuff is less fun without you" ~ Frightened Rabbit, "Fun Stuff"


All this got me thinking; people should hold hands more often.  We take it for granted, do it out of obligation or habit, but taking someone's hand when you mean it can convey more than this subtle gesture would seem to.  We are bogged down by words, yet we never stop talking.  Human touch completes the circuit.  It is universal and can communicate in a millisecond the truth that we otherwise trip over ourselves trying to express...or hide.  Think of the peace we would find in a world of silent eyes and clasped hands...

you don't mean that, say you're sorry

I am on a playground in a large park.  The playground is set in sand and surrounded by an expansive green lawn.  It's a bright, hot, sunny day.  It's not just the sun that's bright; all the colors in this place are very saturated to the point where it hurts my eyes.  There is a distant city skyline at the edge of the park.
My cousin and I are hanging out on the playground (along with other nameless/faceless people from both our parties), even though we are both adults.  We are joking around with each other and I make a slightly sharp joke at his expense.  The crowd laughs and "ooohhhh"s.  He gets angry and lashes back at me something along the lines of "well, maybe boys* would actually like you if you didn't ruin everything by being all fat and mushy in the middle"  My clothes suddenly feel very tight and my gut is hanging over the waist of my jeans.  I laugh and pretend that his feeble retort doesn't phase me.  I come back with something stating that more people would like him if he wasn't such an idiot.  He retaliates with other stinging fat comment and I in turn, replay the "I'm smarter than you" card.
I walk away with my posse in tow, head held high, but I can already feel the tears starting to well in my eyes.  He's right, I am so fat.  If I can just hold it in and get past the edge of the park, into the trees, he won't see me cry.
My eyes fly open and I gasp for air.  It's 3:45am.

*I think this dream highlights not only body issues, but also gay anxiety.

"You don't mean that, say you're sorry" ~ St. Vincent - "Now, Now"

wolf in flight attendant's clothing

I am on a bus or a plane and I am topless.  I scurry into a seat next to a guy from high school whose locker was next to mine.  The surrounding seats are filled with people from high school and middle school.  I am holding a hoodie and long sleeve t-shirt and trying desperately to cover myself with them, yet I don't put them on.  We are all joking and laughing and no one seems to notice that I am not properly clad.  The flight attendant (or bus attendant) comes over to me and offers to take me into another room to calm down because I seem very stressed.  We head into what looks like an airplane bathroom, but inside is a giant shower.  She explains a hot shower will make me feel better.  The door to the shower room is left open and people keep walking by and looking in.  I am now completely naked and horrified to discover that I have not shaved any part of my body for a very long time.  This makes me angry, so I yell at a guy looking into the room and kick the door closed in his face.  She comments that my Sasquatch appearance doesn't bother her and that she likes hairy women.  At this point, she is topless (though I don't remember any boobs) and I notice that she has stomach hair like a man.  I decide that I like this and now feel more comfortable.

The flight attendant and now shower therapist is skinny, with long blonde hair and thin lips, basically the opposite of my type.  I'm getting the vibe that this is going to turn into more than a relaxing shower.  We start kissing.  I'm not into it but figure it's better than sitting in my seat.  She wants more than kissing.  I don't want to sleep with this girl and explain that I can't because I (unbeknownst to me until right now) have my period.  She beings to argue with me, saying that she doesn't care and that it shouldn't matter.  She turns into my ex-girlfriend and the shower room turns into a yellow-lit bedroom of a one-floor house.  The furniture in the room is ugly Americana with dark wood and quilts.  The bedroom window faces the backyard where a pool party is taking place.  I turn back to my ex and we are both now fully clothed.  I am sooo angry.  How dare she try to trick me into sleeping with her.  Why won't she leave me alone?  Go away!  I really let her have it, not holding back any venomous thoughts.  I laugh in her face and say mean things to her (although I can't remember what).  This feels really good.

i'd spend all night losing sleep

I am making out with Tegan and Sara...at the same time.  This could be disgusting because they are sisters, and twins.  I decide that this is a dream and that I am not going to think about the details and just enjoy the ride.  This is hot.  In the tangles of lips, theirs accidentally graze each others'.  Damnit!  Not so hot...

"I'd spend all night losing sleep" ~ Tegan and Sara, "Living Room"

for whom the (wedding) bells toll

I’m at my own wedding, although I have no idea who I am marrying.  After a bit, I realize that I am wearing a full-on wedding dress and am surprisingly not uncomfortable.  I am preparing to enter the reception, which is outside, around the back of a building, in a garden.  As I enter, I am greeted by girls who are supposed to be my bridesmaids.  I am surprised to find that my sister is not my maid of honor.  Friends hug and kiss me and hand me my flower bouquet and a boutonniere for my groom?  People are sitting around eating and drinking.  There is a pool or pond and my college friends start jumping in and splashing around.  Everyone is laughing and having a great time.  The garden turns into a 50s burger joint and I decide that my friends and family know me so well because this is the perfect place for a wedding reception.  It’s time to leave and I am hugging people goodbye.  My girlfriends are crying and I am thanking them for all the work they did.  My dad is there and is crying.  The crowd clears and I see my grandfather, who has been dead for 10 years.  He is crying and we hug.  He tells me I look beautiful and that he is so proud of me.  I am surprised that he is so accepting of my gay(?) wedding.

The pen is mightier than my nerves

I’m at a bar or some kind of event, which eventually turns into a sort of high school reunion.  There are many faces that I haven’t seen in years.  Of course, anyone who I would want to see from high school is not there, so I am forced to hang out with people who I barely liked 10 years ago.  After a bit, I begin talking to people who wouldn’t have given me the time of day back then.  There is one girl in particular who I always thought was gay, and in my dream, I realize that I have apparently always had a crush on her.  We are all leaving now and as we exit, they are handing out updated contact information for everyone who came to the event.  Despite this, I decide that I MUST give this girl my phone number.  I have no pen or paper.  I’m frantically running around the back alley of this bar asking my former high school quasi friends for something to write on and with.  I finally gather the necessary items and lean on the trunk of a car to write my phone number.  My target is quickly escaping in the other direction.  I try to write and I can’t.  It comes out all scribbles and I soon fill the entire scrap of paper with gibberish.  I wake up.