Monday, June 26, 2006
Nightmares and Dreamscapes
Starting on July 1st, TNT is airing 8 1-hour shows adapted from Stephen King's Book Nightmares and Dreamscapes, a collection of short stories.
In my opinion, most of King's work hasn't translated well to film...usually because it's really hard to capture the nuances that make his novels feel "real" in unreal situations within a 2-hour framework.
As far as mini-series go, I don't think It was scary enough because it was made for network TV (although Tim Curry as the monster was an inspiring bit of casting), and Rose Red was a total piece of crap. I did enjoy The Stand, however.
I'll be interested to see how these come out.
Why am I babbling about this?
Because Hubby was talking in his sleep again last night, and it got me to thinking about dreams and nightmares.
Although he isn't anything like an old elementary school friend of mine named Simone (she was a huge hit at slumber parties--would carry on conversations for HOURS while dead to the world, as long as someone was willing to pretend to be her mom and kiss her once in awhile), Hubby and I have had a couple of interesting conversations.
Scottish Cheese! he once bellowed.
"Cottage Cheese?" I asked stupidly, more than half-asleep.
No, you idiot! Scottish Cheese is from Scotland! Go open the gate already! Chop chop!
Last night he insisted I relinquish the blue blanket.
"Ok" I said, an old hand after 14 years. "Here you go."
Thank you. Then he turned over and farted. Pardon me!
At least he's polite. Even in his sleep.
How do I put up with it?
I put up with it because I'm actually worse than he is. I guess you could say he puts up with ME.
I'm what is called (so I've been told) a "lucid dreamer". Sometimes I sleep with my eyes open, and I think I'm awake. I guess I'm half-awake. I can see inside my room, but I'm dreaming of things that are going on outside the bedroom door (like burglars, or a fire) and I'm powerless to scream or reach out to wake Hubby up. It's terrifying.
Every so often I have a dream that is so sad I wake up crying. And I'll cry for another 20 minutes. I know consciously that it was a dream, but I have a hard time separating my emotions.
Sometimes I'll wake up absolutely furious. Many a time I've shaken Hubby awake shouting things like, "How dare you sell our children to a traveling circus!" Or "If you were boinking that cow down the street why did you have to compound my humiliation by making me go to her f*cking Tupperware party!"
I've been pissed at him for HOURS after dreams like that, even though there's no logical reason.
At first he would try to defend himself.
It wasn't me! It was just a dream!
Or he would accuse me of eating cheese before bedtime. Or put on his Yosemite Sam hat. No more hasenpfeffer for you!
Now he just apologizes. I'm sorry! I didn't know that the headless Barbie in the pencil case was our newborn child when I threw it in the trash!
I once had a creepy erotic dream about Louie Anderson in Spongebob shorts. Except I think I remember him looking like Ricky Martin. For a couple of days I kind of had tingly feelings for Lil' Louie. How scary is that?
The most recent big freaky dream I had was last year. Hubby belongs to a volunteer service organization and they were working non-stop for months on a project for a big anniversary. In addition to his regular job, he was spending about 20 more hours a week on this and we hardly saw him here at the homestead. His stress was affecting all of us.
In my dream the project bottomed out, so they decided to make a big splash by donating organs.
Starting with mine.
He cut my head off and put it on the counter. Of course, I was dreaming, so I could still holler at him.
"What in the hell are you doing?" I shouted.
I'm sorry, he said, as he wrapped my bits in foil (which looked like the steaks we wrap to age in our freezer). I can't ask anyone else to donate if I'm not willing to make a sacrifice myself!
I woke up ready to kill, and stumbled out of bed on my way to the bathroom.
Are you ok, honey? he asked sleepily.
"You cut my head off, you son of a bitch!" I snarled.
I'm sorry. Was I a king?
Anybody else got some weird dream stories to tell?