The Good Girl Gone Blog: I'd Rather be Dreamin'

Designing shoes and meeting mothers...in my sleep

Jan 25, 2010

Last night I had a very strange dream. I'm not sure whether to laugh at its comedic aspects, gloat over my in-dream fashion sense, or over-analyze the dream's meaning. Let me explain.

I was in my father's house, when a familiar truck pulled up in my driveway.

I opened the garage door and saw that it was my guy friend back in Baltimore and his mother (who I have never met before and strangely resembled one of the 3rd grade teachers from my elementary school). His mother introduced herself as "Mrs. Goldsmith," a strange name for a Christian boy's mother.

It was then that I threw on a fabulous pair of shoes- one I don't own, nor have I ever seen before. They were black leather booties with a thin stiletto heel and a two light pink ribbon dangling down the sides of the boots. The boy laughed at my fancy shoe choice, but it didn't bother me. Those shoes were fabulous and completely one of a kind. (I'm currently coveting those amazing booties that don't exist outside of my dreams.)

After putting on the shoes, the boy, his mother a girl friend of mine and I go to dinner. The rest of the dream is sort of blurry and involves character changes and location jumps. I remember overhearing the mother say she disliked me because I was too Jewish for her son. She considered my girl friend, on the other hand (who I couldn't recognize) the perfect Christian. Clearly she had long, straight, blond hair.

I'm still confused. What the heck does this mean?

If only I could tell you everything...

Aug 24, 2009

photo via my sister, Michal

I've discovered recently that I often have trouble finding a balance between over sharing and not saying enough. Although I usually employ the former speech tactic (especially when I've had too much white wine), the latter does happen occasionally, but only when it comes to the opposite sex. I've found that I often don't say what I'm feeling, and by the time I do, the opportunity has passed and I've somehow managed to ruin everything.

When I recently got an email on Jdate from a boy I have yet to meet, I started to think about this balance between word vomit and silence. At this point in our "relationship," I can safely say it's not time to fully share who I am. And then he said this:

"Tell me a bit more about yourself."

...which of course got me thinking. If I could explain myself to a person I've yet to meet and not be judged for anything I shared, what would I divulge? And that's when I decided to write this blog post, to share with you the things I can't say:

Hi, my name is Alana. I'm 21 years old and confuse the heck out of myself most days of the week. I fall for people at such a rapid rate, I surprise even myself. Plus, I tend to be sort of self destructive when it comes to my own heart, and as a result, my life is never short on drama. Have I mentioned that I've yet to experience a long term relationship? Mine are always capped at 2 months- when I can get over that hump, you know I'll be celebrating.

I come from a big family and have a super close relationship with my dogs. It's funny, because they're often the "people" I'm most excited about seeing when I come home for a visit. I say I'm afraid of squirrels, but lately I've had little to do with them, so I'm kind of indifferent. I'm also sort of fascinated by slugs- I think they're disgusting, but somehow I can't look away.

Quite often my nights are filled with anxiety dreams. Whether I'm dealing with issues that actually exist or are merely the fabrication of my hard working brain, anxiety dreams fill my nights. They're full of subconscious messages, whether relating to my family, work, or most often, my love life. I still have dreams about being unprepared for class. The dreams are always about high school, and my best friend has always completed her assignments while I come to class unprepared.

Though I love the idea of traveling, more often then not, I spend large parts of my vacations thinking about being home. I've become somewhat of a homebody- I love the comfort of my own bed, the endless possibilities of my closet and the familiar scent of my own shampoo. Packing makes me crazy- in fact, I could probably list packing as the most stressful part of my life right now. Oh, and my friend Julia said I'm most likely to pack a suitcase full of "parts of outfits"- she's totally right. I don't usually think about matching when I'm throwing things into a suitcase, just waiting to be done with a terrible ordeal.

And the thing is, I could keep going, but I won't. Sometimes I feel like a high powered waterfall- my words never stop flowing, and sometimes, it can be dangerous. Other times, I kick myself for holding back and getting scared.

Does anyone else have trouble finding the balance between saying too much and holding back?

Nightmare on Gyno Street

Aug 4, 2009

Before reading this post, there are two things you should know about me:

1) I've always hated going to the doctor. I was that little kid who ran around the examining room screaming, trying to avoid a booster shot.

2) I have anxiety dreams. A lot. These dreams usually revolve around me attending a high school class (typically science, history or math) without the my homework or being unable to stop my car and getting in an accident.

Now that you know the facts above, this story will make a bit more sense.

***

Whenever I come home, whether it be for a quick weekend visit or an week-long stay, I try to squeeze in as many doctors appointments as possible. Though KBoss insists I should find a new doctor up in Boston, I have yet to actually do so.

Since I was going to be home for a whole week, I crossed my fingers and hoped to squeeze in my annual err "lady parts" checkup. Lucky for me, they found a time that worked for both of us.

Everything seemed perfect... until I had the nightmare:

I was minding my own business going to see my FEMALE doctor, when I entered the doctor's office, only to find out that my doctor was now male. Oh, and we were in Boston, not Baltimore. I didn't know this doctor, yet I still followed him. Instead of entering a normal examining room, I found myself in a large field...outside. People were playing frisbee and having picnics...at my gynecologist appointment!

I was confused that I'd be sharing such a personal experience with the picnicers, but dream Alana still went ahead with it. It was then that the mysterious male doctor (who wasn't even cute!) collected some of my cells. They magically blew up into huge squiggly messes that indicated I was fine. Apparently, I have bright blue and purple cells. Who knew?

It was at that point that my real doctor showed up. She rolled her eyes at the boy doctor and said she would take care of me. We walked around the field a little bit more, trying to look for a more private place to conduct my checkup.

"Hey," I said to my doctor. "I'm studying PR...I could totally help you plan an event to raise money to buy curtains to allow for some more privacy."

She seemed to like the idea. I then crawled onto the examining table, put my feet in the stirrups...and the next thing I remember was walking into White House/Black Market and rewarding myself with some new headbands.

Yeah, so that dream, combined with any previously existing doctor's office anxiety definitely made today seem a lot scarier than it had to be. Fortunately for me, I saw my actual doctor today, was examined in a PRIVATE room and rewarded myself with a delicious frappuccino. Hopefully now I'll associate the lady parts doctor with caramel and not public nudity or creepy colored cells...

What's your nightmare cure?

Apr 13, 2009

I love this photo shot by my dad outside of the Paper Moon Diner in Baltimore.
It reminds me of something out of a (good) dream

I spent most of today doing nothing. Yup, I had a very relaxing Easter Sunday, which consisted of avoiding homework, playing with my blog layout and napping. Unfortunately, because I spent most of the day playing the role of the immobile vegetable, I can't seem to fall asleep. It's a few minutes after 1 AM and I can't stop thinking about my unstable summer plans, my many unfinished projects and the "fight" I just had via instant messenger. All of these things would seem much less daunting if they weren't bombarding my brain while I'm trying to sleep.

And I don't want to have nightmares again tonight.

Does anyone have any techniques for ensuring a nightmare-free sleep? I'm kind of sick of having dreams about getting asked to leave work, watching my new boyfriend (who unfortunately only exists in my nightmares) go off to war, and arriving to class unprepared.

While those are all annoying and stressful, the dreams I hate the most are about failed relationships. The dreams themselves aren't bad, in fact, they're usually quite good...until I wake up and realize that the guy is still a jerk and that he didn't actually ask me to go to that art museum on Sunday.

I'm pretty sure John Mayer says it best:

"When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part."

Now, my heart is far from broken, but still. Nightmares are not fun.

Any suggestions for curbing those pesky nightmares?

Stress dreams

Mar 14, 2009

It's official: last night, I had the worst dream ever. Well, maybe not ever, but it was definitely scarring.

It all started back in my dorm room at school. It was the morning, so Megan and I were both still in our respective beds. I glanced at the clock, which read 9:50, and started freaking out. Because it was a Wednesday (in my dream, in actuality it was a Friday night) I knew I had class from 9-9:50 and that I wasn't just late, I'd actually missed the entire class. (Looking back, I now realize that on Wednesdays, I actually have class from 10-10:50, so I would have been fine...ish.)

The first thing I thought was: oh my g-d, maybe I didn't change the clock during daylight savings- which actually doesn't make any sense, because then I would just be even more late. The next thing I realized was that I'd missed class the day before too. The worst part was, I couldn't for the life of me remember what I'd been doing the day before, and either could Megan.

That's when the dream got fuzzy. I was in a restaurant. Or maybe I was on a date...the point is, I kept thinking about how I couldn't remember what I'd been doing the day before. Which made me think I was really ill. I finally realized that it was in fact a dream, and that the reason I hadn't been in class was because it was spring break.

Just to make sure it was a dream, I told myself I needed to try to wake up. If I found myself in a bed at home, I'd know I was safe.

Here's the horrible part- I wasn't waking up. That's when my dream self decided I was in a coma. It was horrible. All I wanted to do was wake up from the coma and talk to my mother, who was obviously very sad and grieving next to my sick bed. I felt so helpless.

I never, ever want to be in a coma.

Wake up, Alana.

Jan 9, 2009

So I'm having one of those mornings. You know, the kind when you're in the middle of having a dream about fixing a co-worker's coffee when your mom comes in and wakes you up? She has the dog in tow and asks if you can hear her. You grumble a response and she starts talking. You try to listen, but you really just wanted to make that coffee.

She tells you she has to leave and asks the dog climb into your bed. He jumps on your leg and it hurts. She wants you to walk him, but tells you that you can sleep for a bit, thank G-d.

So you try to sleep, all the while worrying that you're going to oversleep and not have enough time to bake the oatmeal craisin cookies. Then the dog starts whining and you feel guilty, so you climb out from under your three quilts, put your hair in a messy bun, and search the floor for a stray bra.

Mission accomplished. Oh yeah, then you can't find matching socks, and did I mention you're still wearing your pajamas? All the while, the dog is jumping up and down excitedly, hoping you'll get your act together so he can pee. Keep in mind, you're still pretty comatose.

When you get outside in the cold, you take a second to enjoy the sunny day and think about how long it will take to finish this task so you can get back to bed. And then you see him, or you think you do. It's that guy from high school, the one who you used to joke with about getting married so you two could have beautiful children. You haven't seen him in what seems like years, and you were never really that close in high school, but you feel like you should say hi anyway, you know, just to be polite, and because it's exciting to run into people on your morning dog walk!

You don't want to shout out his name, in case it's not him. You saunter over, pajama clad, in hopes that he'll look up from his car and say hi. He sees you, walks over and strikes up an awkward conversation. You make an excuse that you have to leave, something about baking cookies, and are on your way.

Why oh why did you go outside before showering, wearing last night's sweatpants and the most disgusting hairstyle ever? Good thing you don't actually want to marry that guy, because you looked like shit, excuse your language.

Better late than never: a photo documentary

Jan 4, 2009

Jenni just uploaded photos from my trip to Victoria onto Facebook. I "stole" some of them and made a blog album, complete with captions. You can find the album in the left-hand column of my blog homepage. Scroll down a bit- it's close to the bottom.

In other news, I just sat through a Ravens game with my dad. No, we didn't go to Miami, but we did watch it in HD! Because my dad and I are both sick, it was great to just veg on the couch. I asked way too many questions and even put on my Ravens jersey. And guess what- they won! Woohoo! Thanks Joe, you're a star.

Peewee was not as ecstatic...

So after the game, my dad decided he needed to watch the other football game. I fell asleep and had a dream I was at the game and wanted to leave. Too much football, I guess...

The man of my dreams

Dec 25, 2008

Yesterday, at a brunch date with a high school friend, we discussed our respective love lives. My friend told me that she's come to realize that if you actually want to date someone, you need to go for the grad student. I thought that was kind of funny, because one of my BU friends is kind of seeing a grad student, and she seems really happy. Plus, my mom and I were just talking about how I should date one of my older brother's friends haha.

All this talk about older guys reminded me of a dream I'd had the previous night. Somehow, I found myself in the back of a cop car. I don't think I did anything wrong necessarily, but I vaguely remember the term "tax evasion" being thrown around...

Anyway, the point is I met a really cute cop. For some reason, he chose to sit in the back of the car with me, while his buddy drove alongside my friend in the passenger seat. Cute cop and I struck up a conversation and I told him my birthday was coming up. I asked him how old he thought I was, and he guessed that I was turning 21.

Now, this may not sound like a big deal, but it is. You see, people usually think I'm 16 or maybe if I'm lucky, 18. I was infatuated. He was 23 or 24 and adorable. And then the dream gets fuzzy.

Oh yeah, and last night, I had a dream that I met Raven's QB Joe Flacco...who is also 23. Hmmm...

Sigh...

Ghosts

Oct 21, 2008

I've recently had a few dreams about multiple exes and the girls they've ended up with. I'm not sure exactly what's brought on this string of negative dreams, but here are my theories:

1) I watch too much TV. One of my dreams seemed to have stolen scenes from The Starter Wife and The Notebook.

2) I've recently thought a lot about letting go of negative relationships from my past because thinking about them is counterproductive. Maybe they're coming back to bite me.

3) Halloween is coming up, so maybe that's why I'm seeing ghosts.

4) I'm lonely. If this is the answer, that's just sad. I've been too busy lately to have time to be lonely...

Any ideas? Do you dream of ghosts?

Dreams

Sep 12, 2008

Last night/early this morning I had a dream about underwear. You know those packs of "days of the week" panties you buy as a child? Well my dream had something to do with monthly panties...as in, "oh, today I'm going to wear my January panties." It didn't seem that weird at the time, because nothing really does when you're asleep. But eww, actually, double ewww...that means you'd wear the same underwear for a month.

And on another note, when I did have days of the week panties, I rarely wore them on the right days. If I had owned monthly ones, I probably would have wanted to wear January constantly, because it's my birthday month. That could have been problematic...