So you think you have bad dreams

Last night, I was sleeping along, tossing and turning when some strange and wild looking blond woman pushed me against the wall and screeched, "So he looked at those mammaries! You rotten bitch!" I had no clue what or whom she was talking about. She was red eyed and fuming.
I was scared.

Her mouth was open so wide and her eyes so wild that I knew I would die if I did not do something.

I reached in and grabbed her tongue with my strength and wrestled her to the door. We tumbled out and down some concrete steps. We ended up in the mud. I let go of her tongue and raced for the door as she was coming up the step with all her energy and anger. I found the lock and struggled to put the lock into place. I succeeded and she banged on the glass of the door until I awoke in a sweat.

I had eaten beets and mustard greens. A lethal combination, I expect.

I need some chicken soup!

Love,
Betty

Betty,

When I have those dreams, my antagonist is usually my mother.

Grabbing that blonde by the tongue may be the only way to shut her up.

Chicken soup is good, but a tortilla stuffed with Tinga de Pollo would be even better. I swear the stuff kills whatever I come down with. It ought to be especially good for nightmares. In Mexico, it's traditionally served on Dia do los Muertos (Day of the dead).

Dice a few new potatoes finely, saute them for a few minutes, then add some diced poblano pepper and/or colored bell peppers and some roughly chopped garlic. Add some dry white wine, chicken broth, a can of fire-roasted tomatoes, and a diced chipotle pepper or two from a can of peppers in adobo sauce, along with a little salt and pepper. You can add a bit of the adobo sauce as well. Stir in the meat from a store-bought rotisserie chicken. Let the whole thing simmer for a while, then throw in some minced fresh oregano, thyme, and sage. Let it cook down until the sauce is very thick, then put a spoonful or two in a warm flour tortilla. Add a bit of guacamole, crema, and/or shredded cheese, if you wish. If you don't care for tortillas, pour it over some rice.

I promise. It will cure anything.

Ann

If you are into dream analysis, I would say that you have overcome a hurdle through that dream. You are victorious!

Yes, Betty, that was quite a dream. At least you know the cause. I won't even ask what the blond's statement meant.
As for Ann's recipe, no doubt it should kill anything (maybe even you) but it sure would have my digestive system screaming in protest.

According to dreammoods.com:

* To
dream that you rip someone else's tongue out, indicates that you are
extremely upset with something that this person has said, but you have not
been able to fully express your anger. Because you tend to keep your
emotions inside, it is finding expression in your dreams in a violent way.

*To
see a blonde person in your dream, suggests that you need to enjoy life and
live it up. Be a little glamorous.

*To
dream that you are walking down a flight of stairs, represents your
repressed thoughts. It suggests that you are going into your unconscious.
It also refers to setbacks that you will experience in your life. If
you are afraid of going down the stairs, then it suggests that you are
afraid to confront your repressed emotions and thoughts. Is there
something from your past that you are not acknowledging.

*To
dream that you are in a fight, indicates inner turmoil. Some aspect of
yourself is in conflict with another aspect of yourself. Perhaps an
unresolved or unacknowledged part is fighting for its right to be
heard. It may also parallel a fight or struggle that you are going
through in your waking life.

Me? I think the BEETS are responsible. Next time have a slice of chocolate cake before you go to sleep.

WOW talk about bad dreams. Have had a few myself. Writing about them seems to help. Here is a poem about a recurring nightmare I use to have.



WILL I
BY A. W. NUTTER

I wish I could feel the caress of an afternoon breeze
Relax and enjoy the beauty of the surrounding trees
Longing to enjoy the suns warmth on a cloudless day
You have never had a kind word to say

I hear the creaking of my bedroom door
The sound of your boots on my wooden floor
Fear keeping me silent you know I’ll never tell
Please God deliver me from this living hell

The belt whistles as I scream out in pain
Satan’s demon driving me insane
Neighbors turning away they’ve all gone blind
A small child searching for a peace he cannot find

Sitting up in my bed I am awake at last
Nightmares haunting me, memories from the past
I glance toward my wife sleeping so sound
Would I ever be free or will I always be bound

The mustard greens by themselves might have been enough to cause this.

Why not repeat the combination another night in a row. Maybe your muse is using this method for dictating the MS for a whole new book.

Malcolm

One thing I've learned about dream dictionaries is that they're virtually always dead wrong. The intrepretations they offer have virtually nothing to do with my life whatsoever. I've kept a dream journal since June 18, 2002 and have recorded almost 2,700 dreams so far, so I know the dream books are dead wrong! Mostly I'm not into interpreting my dreams I just like to record them because some of them are very interesting. I've had some pritty wild ones over the years!

I had a dream that I was playing guitar for the Goo Goo Dolls. And John Rzeznik got mad because I was playing a red guitar, he stopped in the middle of the song, came over to me and made me switch it out for a yellow guitar.

I don't play guitar. I can't carry a tune. What difference does the color make? Although, yellow is NOT my color.

I don't remember what I ate before I went to sleep.

alj wrote:

Betty,

When I have those dreams, my antagonist is usually my mother.

Grabbing that blonde by the tongue may be the only way to shut her up.

Chicken soup is good, but a tortilla stuffed with Tinga de Pollo would be even better. I swear the stuff kills whatever I come down with. It ought to be especially good for nightmares. In Mexico, it's traditionally served on Dia do los Muertos (Day of the dead).

Dice a few new potatoes finely, saute them for a few minutes, then add some diced poblano pepper and/or colored bell peppers and some roughly chopped garlic. Add some dry white wine, chicken broth, a can of fire-roasted tomatoes, and a diced chipotle pepper or two from a can of peppers in adobo sauce, along with a little salt and pepper. You can add a bit of the adobo sauce as well. Stir in the meat from a store-bought rotisserie chicken. Let the whole thing simmer for a while, then throw in some minced fresh oregano, thyme, and sage. Let it cook down until the sauce is very thick, then put a spoonful or two in a warm flour tortilla. Add a bit of guacamole, crema, and/or shredded cheese, if you wish. If you don't care for tortillas, pour it over some rice.

I promise. It will cure anything.

Ann

Ann,

Will this concoction leave you among the living or the dead? In this case the dream might be preferable.

Last evening on our delightful flight from Chicago to Seattle, we were served the usual--dried up cookies, crackers, etc and told to have all we wished.

When the attendant made his second pass wth the "goodies," I began counseling the young man beside me to grab copious quanities and squirrel them away.

The attendant ran out the row ahead of us and Dave, heaving a sigh of relief said, "WE HAVE BEEN CHOSEN TO LIVE."

I nearly died laughing.

So!
If I eat the beets and collard greens, the turnips, the boiled minowase, perhaps some chinese cabbage, raw,......What are all you horror writers going to pay me for my recorded dreams. I could send them email or just visit you in the middle of the night and download directly to your brain.
Love,
Betty

Betty Fasig wrote:

So!
If I eat the beets and collard greens, the turnips, the boiled minowase, perhaps some chinese cabbage, raw,......What are all you horror writers going to pay me for my recorded dreams. I could send them email or just visit you in the middle of the night and download directly to your brain.
Love,
Betty

CLEVER ONE--KEEP THEM (THE DREAMS) AND WRITE THEM UP--THEY FAR SURPASS THE TEDIUM OF "THE ROAD."

Let's consider some of the deeper subconscious symbolism of this dream, Betty.






Psych!!!! I wouldn't do that to you. :-)