Sweet dreams are made of this? Sorry, but I actually DO disagree

I keep saying I'm not going to make this a dream journal, and yet I keep posting things like this. I very much hope this is not a sign that I'm turning into my mother, meaning I will not only force people to listen as I recount exactly what sort of odd things my subconscious cooked up but will soon also hold them captive while I detail all of the ways that Microsoft Word did me wrong at work or all the reasons I did or did not buy some particular item at Goodwill. I already leave long, rambly voicemail messages that might actually count as full conversations with a machine; I'm not too excited to see which of the traits for which I've repeatedly mocked my mother I will surely pick up next.

In any case, last night presented a few more shining examples of the strange vignettes that play on the reel in my head while I sleep. I'm sure you are dying to hear about them, so here we go, OK?


Five things I dreamt last night

1. I'm in the market for a new cell phone, and, when I'm shopping for anything, I tend to obsess over it in a way that far exceeds the normal level of thought or excitement about the purchase. I did this with my last cordless phone, constantly comparing prices on various Web sites and checking user reviews. I did it again when I decided to buy a digital camera last winter, and yet again with my not-iPod shortly thereafter. Even when I'm just thinking about new shoes, I can't help but run back to Zappos again and again to click one more time through the same pages I've already perused several times over. I've never even actually purchased anything from Zappos. I just seem to think I will, I guess.
   
   All of this is a long way of explaining how not surprised I am, actually, that I dreamt about acquiring a new phone. Except, in the dream, instead of being all excited about my fine choice of new mobile technology, I was disturbed and disappointed that the sales guy had talked me into something I really didn't want. It was a thick, orange flip-phone that looked more like a child's toy than a cutting edge piece of technology. The orange didn't bother me (I actually think an orange phone would be pretty cool), but it was as brick-like as my first Nokia (circa 2000 or so). And it didn't even have a camera in it. I don't particularly need a camera in my phone; it's not something I've felt at a loss without up to now. But in my dream, I thought I should have one, so I guess I should keep that in mind when I actually do make my way to the store.
   
   
2. I watched The Office last night, and I must have really enjoyed it, because it made appearances in my head twice while I slept. First, during the episode, they suddenly started displaying quotes and factoids on top of the action on the screen. It was a bit like Pop-up Video, but without all the annoying bubbly effects. I hesitate to mention this because I worry it might make me sound like some strange sort of groupie (what with featuring him in two Friday Fives in a row), but one of the quotes was from Darren, and had something to do with a character's "Stockard Channing voice." I don't know that Darren's ever written anything about Stockard Channing, and I can't think of anyone on The Office who would call her to mind in any way, but this is the strange way my brain works when I'm not monitoring it, I guess. Even stranger, Darren's by-line on the quote was actually attributed to Look at Me... rather than Entertainment Weekly or some other widely distributed publication. Darren, I don't know whether you're a legend in your own mind, but it seems that apparently you are in mine.
   
   Incidentally, in case anyone thinks it's entirely creepy that I would have a dream involving a fellow blogger, I'd like to point out that Red admitted to having a dream about Darren once as well. If I remember correctly, in her dream, he was feeding her Skittles. That may be slightly less absurd than referencing Stockard Channing on The Office, but only slightly, I believe.
   
   
3. Eventually, the Pop-up Video quotes subsided, and the normal Office episode ensued. Or, it was normal for a while, anyway. Then all of the characters started referring to Pam as Dawn and thereafter began speaking in British accents as well. Maybe I have -R- to thank for this little detour on the set? It's possible, I suppose.
   
   
4. Later, I was in my living room (which, for once, actually was my living room, instead of some unrecognizable dream-variation thereof). It was around midnight, and I was just about to leave the room and go to bed, when I saw a shadow approaching on my front steps. I quickly hit the floor and killed the stereo--not for the normal reasons, mind you (i.e., that an intruder was approaching my house in the middle of the night), but because I thought it was a Clipboard Person coming to beg for a donation or talk to me about my vote. Obviously I should have been worried it was an intruder, as two seconds later, a tall man in all black (who looked suspiciously like a loser I dated briefly at age 25) somehow swiftly picked my lock and walked right into the room. He was entirely calm, as if breaking and entering was a fully normal thing to do, but I screamed "Get the fuck out!" and Tae Bo-ed him in the chest, booting him out of my house torso-first. I should be so lucky as to call up that sort of super-strength and quick-thinking if I ever actually find myself in such a scenario. More likely, I'd surely curl into a ball and beg for mercy. Either way, this dream scared the hell out of me, and I hid under my covers as I tried to get myself back to sleep.
   
   
5. Years ago, I saw a comic that pictured a sad, lonely man going to his mailbox, saying, "Please, mailbox, contain a letter from someone I haven't thought about in years but who has been unable to forget me and is madly in love with me, and we'll reunite and live happily ever after..." OK, so I didn't quite get that letter, but I did get an e-mail from one of my earliest meMarmony matches, apologizing for vanishing several months ago and saying he regrets not getting to know me better. If this were a dream, he would have turned out to be smart and witty and interesting and entirely captivated with me in every way, and we would instantly be on the path to surefire successful couplehood. This one actually happened, however, so the odds of things panning out that way are significantly smaller, I think.
   
   What? You wanted a legitimate fifth dream to round out the list? Sorry; I guess even I don't remember five in one night. Well, OK, then. Here you go.