A two-part post: Dream, Dream, Dreeeeeam & Mexican Boy Mall Adoptions

Hi, Grunt here, I just wanted to say that "Tuesday's Tips for Teens" is off the air for awhile. I am getting ready to tackle the "Wooderson" saga. I will do a refresher course post on that guy soon, so you newbies can catch up.

I was inspired to share my dreams when I read Vera's fabulous dream post tonight. You can read it here.

I only wish I had hosted the Everly Brothers, sans all the violence, in my dreams last night. Good music would have been welcome. Instead, I had freaky-assed dreams, and not the freaky-assed that could be mistaken with sexy, mind you.

For starters, I was lost in that fabled town that is comprised of every little quaint village that I have frequented/lived in my lifetime, yet is supposed to be the town that I live in currently. Parts of my past in England and various orchard towns along my home state of Utah get incorporated into a collage of sorts where I tend to have repeated themes of looking for a certain bakery/restaurant, person's home, or some forbidden/enchanted place.

This night I found a large kitchen, at which I supposedly was a chef. It was some kind of converted funeral home turned into a restaurant and they didn't take the caskets out; rather, the corpses were still in the caskets, and the caskets were left around everywhere. The most unsettling part of this was that they were propped open in various forms of display, standing up, partially open, or hanging out. My trip back to this place was to resolve something; what exactly, I don't know. I just remember an older woman placing my hand on the cutting board and nicking my thumb. I then held my bleeding thumb over some flour and began to knead it into a dough.

I baked this dough, and when it was done I pulled the bread out: it was now in the shape of the Star of David. I looked around and noticed that I was now among many gentiles in the city. I was compelled to convert all I came in contact with to Judaism, of which I am not. I tried to get mothers to give their sons barmitzfas, circumcisions, convince them of the merits and blessings of observing passover and a kosher diet in the correct manner. The weirdest part of this dream was the fact that when I needed sustenance, I would open a pouch on the inside of my foot and grab a hunk of gorgonzola cheese.

Okay, let the psychoanalysis begin.

Now, onto less weird things. I was at the mall on Monday. I took that whole day off from work, so I could enjoy the day before The Who concert. I was there at the mall to catch a flick, the new one with Will Ferrell, "Stranger Than Fiction". This turned out to be a great movie. Well, here I am walking through the mall, my brother was at some other shop and I decided that I wanted to walk the entire mall and see what I have been missing. See, I have not actually been in a mall for quite some time, and I have determined that I have not been missing much.

I am walking? Yeah, that's right. So, I start to feel like I have company. I look around and don't see anyone. I keep walking and still feel like I have someone right next to me. This time I look down. Lo and behold, there's this little Mexican boy staring up at me with an ice cream cone stuck in his gob. The moment our eyes fixed on another, we froze. The kid stopped eating his ice cream cone and let some of it drip down his chin as his eyes just grew to saucer-like proportions, as if to say, "Who the eff are you?" I had the same open-mouthed look on my face as I said to myself, "Where in the hell did he come from and where are his parents and/or guardians?" (Yes, I actually said "and/or guardians" in my head).

Well, the kid just took off after about ten seconds of our strange, little, staring contest. I sure hope he found his parents and/or guardians. I just wonder how long we had accompanied each other on our stroll through the mall. Funny.