Jami and the Not Great Ideas

I don't know if this happens to you, but now and then I have an idea in a dream that (in the dream) is this brilliant, life-changing, bazillion dollar idea. I wake up and in those first few just-awake moments, I'm excited about the idea. Then, as my brain shakes off the last of the sleep dust, I realize how unbelievably ridiculous the idea is. My most favorite example of this took place a few years ago when I dreamt that I tried drinking from Eddie's baby bottle, and it was soooooo fun. I couldn't believe that no one had marketed this to adults: fun to use, totally non-spill, you could do them in all colors and styles and you know - favorite teams, blah, blah. I was going to make and market these Adult Bottles (had to come up with a better name) and if you tried it once, you'd buy half a dozen at least. I'd be wealthy beyond my wildest dreams. When I woke up, I was still fairly psyched. Sure, it sounded crazy, but I vividly remembered how much fun I'd had drinking my Diet Coke. I went so far as to go down to the kitchen and try some juice from the baby's bub. Not nearly as fun. Major disappointment. Last night, I was up for hours with Finn, who decided to party all night instead of sleep. Then I drifted off just in time for him to wake me up again. Because of this, I was in that not-awake-but-not-asleep haze. You know, if you've been there. Anyway, I had to use the bathroom. (Don't worry, this isn't going anywhere gross, promise). It took awhile to quiet Finn and I'd been sort of in-and-out while rocking him. Finally, I take him back to his crib and make a mad dash: I had to go; you know, like the "I am in pain and can't stand up straight" kind of feeling and while I'm using the facility, it hits me: The People need to know that if you have to go really bad, then you should go, because when you do you'll feel so much better. Basically, I felt like I needed to remember, when I woke up, to get the word out: If you have to pee, then you should do so, and you'll feel great relief. It kept ringing in my head "I must tell The People." This morning, when I got up for real, I could still remember the urgency (pun intended) with which I was thinking "I have to get the message out. The People must know this." And I laughed out loud. My great subconscious revelation: going to the bathroom is better than, I guess, uh, holding it until you explode? So there ya go. I've let the world know. If you have to pee - go pee. You're welcome.

Jami, Defined

I had a pretty awesome dream last night, and since I just did a post about dreams, I won't bore you with it, although at some point it might actually make a good short story. Or graphic novel, if I could draw, which I can't. The long and short of it was that I was a supervillian. A really, truly awesome supervillian, too, not that anyone who knows me would be surprised by the super or the villian part of that. Anyway, at the pinnacle of the dream, as my very cool plan fell into place, I asked the elite cadre of superheroes opposing me: "This challenge forces you to ask yourself, and tell the world- what defines you?" And I woke up thinking about that question. What defines you? PaperbackWriter used to have a little blurb on her blog listing the many titles she can claim, for lack of a better term. As in, daughter, wife, cousin, friend, writer, etc. That is one way we define ourselves. Most important in my life are my roles as wife and mother, but that isn't the extent of me. On some levels, our actions define us, as do our choices. We are what we do. But is that it? I've heard it said that we we do and think behind closed doors is who we truly are, but I'm not sure I totally agree with that. If Gandhi went home at night and kicked his dog, does that make what he did of less value? My thoughts, the most private parts of my souls that no human sees or knows - can that be the very essence of me? Or is that just an aspect of the whole - isn't what I show outwardly also part of the definition of Jami? Superheros choose a name. Most of the names are fairly clear and shed no light on the person in the mask. Spiderman - he's a man who has the power of a spider. But what about Ozymandias from the Watchmen (which I watched last night, very good, btw)? Knowing the poem and a tiny bit of the history, I wondered at a man who would choose such a name for his alter-ego. It's a hint, IMO, about what lies beneath. What about Superman - who would allow himself to be called that if he didn't believe that he is superior to men? He didn't come up with it himself, but he didn't offer a more catchy alternative, did he? If you were to name yourself, would you pick a name with a meaning more important to you? My name means successor, supplanter or usurper, depending on which translation you look at. I have always liked "successor" with its promise of something important waiting for me. The other two have a more negative connotation. But would I pick something else? Something I long for, like Serenity or Sage (meaning wisdom)? Something I think I am, like Cara (friend) or Drusilla (strength)? Or would you decide that a single name can never define all that we are. So, my dear heroes, now is the time to tell the world - what defines you?

Jami: Horror Victim and Dr. Phil

I do occasionally blog about my more interesting dreams, if for no other reason than some of them really stick with me all day. Last night I had two such dreams, very different. I won't bog you down with all the details, nothing is more boring than an in-depth review of someone else's dream, but a few interesting points. In the first dream, I was basically a high school or college age me, at a camp which was being plagued by suspicious deaths. There came a time when a counselor (who, I am going to posit may have been the killer) attempted to turn the other girls against me by suggesting that my disagreement with a now-deceased camper is what led that girl to make a bad choice that ultimately led to her death. In defending myself against such a ridiculous charge, I made what probably would have turned out to be my fatal mistake. I examined the circumstances of her death and announced to the group that while it appeared on the surface to be an accident, certain evidence (which I explained in great Sherlock-like detail) proved it to be murder. I even went so far as to say that any person who had a certain item (too complicated to explain here) should be held in suspicion and at that point I woke up. And thought, Well that was stupid. If I wanted the killer to come after me next, I sure gave him good reason. Even in my dreams, I need to remember to just shut up sometimes. The second dream found me playing a very Dr. Phil like character - but, you know with hair. I had chosen 8 families who were over-scheduled and I helped them simplify. I rearranged their budgets, showing why both parents didn't have to be working full time and more to make ends meet, pulled poor exhausted grade-schoolers out of their myriads of lessons, teams, and what have you, showed teenagers how to balance part-time jobs with school and still have a life. I took some semi-sadistic glee in pointing out to the family members that while they were all blaming each other, they all had a part in the problem. At the end, each of the families went on a relaxed-paced, not overbooked, not too expensive, family-centered vacation. The audience cheered them (and me, of course). I was a hero. To sum up: In both dreams, I was right, smarter than the others involved. In the first one, I was potential chain-saw bait, in the second - a family saver. Not sure what that all means, but I sure preferred the second to the first.

Jami Gets Better, In Her Dreams

I'm sure I've mentioned that I have lots of very vivid dreams. A small percentage of those are nightmares, though when I do have the bad ones, they are bad. Around the end of high school/beginning of college, I learned a different way to deal with those ones. For most of them, when I wake up, I calm myself down and try to think of a way I could have handled it better, and/or gotten out alive. For example, should I have stood and fought instead of run? Maybe I should have walked away when I got that first uneasy feeling instead of waiting around to see what would happen? At first, it was just a way to sort of get my head out of the scary place, but then something started to happen. Weeks, or even months after I'd had the nightmare, I'd have it again - but I'd use the solution I'd come up with. Usually it would work and I'd escape. Cool, hunh? I thought so. Just in the last year, though, I've started fighting back in the dreams themselves. Catching onto the danger faster and reacting smarter. Last night I had a disaster-movie, terrorist-attack style dream and early in the dream, before things got scary and before most viewers of the movie would have figured it out, I realized the danger and got myself and someone else out of harm's way, even rescuing someone else later. I don't know what that means, other than maybe all my contingency planning is finally paying off, if only in my dreams. I can't know how that will translate into a real emergency, except maybe I'll think it's a dream and take care of business. Hopefully, we'll never know.

Jami Dreams a Little Dream of You

Well, not all of you, but my dream last night featured three of my regular friends/readers: PW, EDW and Patrick. Also, two celebrities. Basically, EDW, PW and I were scheduled to appear on Dr. Phil. I'm not entirely sure why, I think it had something to do with people who blog. Patrick told us he lives close to where they film Dr. Phil (not true in the waking world) and we could stay with him. When we got to Patrick's house, it turned out that his wife was not at all happy about the arrangement. She didn't believe we had been invited there for the Dr. Phil show, she believed we were "some internet hos" that Patrick had "ordered up for himself". Not the best hostess, she called us very not nice names and even spit at us. Nonetheless, we stayed at her house, since Patrick had set up a nice little work area where we all had laptop docking stations. We had Dr. Phil call Patrick's wife to explain that we three happily married women were not purchased online, and after talking to her, Dr. Phil decided that they made a better story than the three blogging girls, so we were out and they were in. Disappointed, but not out of options, PW, EDW and I went to a casting call for a commercial. They were looking for a "mother type" which we decided that at least one of us must look like. Piers Morgan did the interviews and none of us were chosen. So we all went bike riding, Piers included. I guess overall, it's a good trip if you get to go biking with Piers Morgan.

Jami's Celebrity Filled Dreams

Lately, I seem to have had a streak of dreams featuring celebrities. I've had plenty of dreams with the rich and famous before, but not with this frequency. Not sure why, it's not like I'm particularly into pop culture at the moment. Of course, my all time favorite one was when I married Will Smith. I had a beautiful huge wedding dress - that was a very dark purple. This past week, I've been on Mythbusters, played an acoustic set with Eddie Van Halen and David Lee Roth in front of a packed crowd and helped Brittany Spears manager corral her during a rampage. I had Bruce Willis over for dinner. I think I did something at the White House, but that one had gotten a bit fuzzy. I won't bore you with the entire stories, and I don't have a point. But I do wonder what I'll be doing tonight, with whom.

Jami's Friday Feast

Feast 166 Appetizer Name a great website you would recommend to others. Probably Woot, they have one good deal every day. I ususally forget to check it, though. Soup On a scale of 1-10 (with 10 as highest), how often do you dream at night? 10 Salad Did you have a pet as a child? If so, what kind and what was its name? I had several. I had gerbils, I don't remember their names. I had multiple fish. I had a puppy named Taffy who passed away very young. I had a dog named Pepper. I had several hermit crabs, also can't remember their names. Main Course If you had the chance to star in a commercial, what would you choose to advertise? Hmm, could I do a commercial for being responsible and moral? Otherwise, I'd probably do one for mei tai carriers, especially from All Natural Mommies, where I got mine and they were super nice and helpful. I can't believe these aren't more popular, I had a Snugli, thought I loved it until I got my mei tai. Dessert What is your favorite kind of hard candy? Butter rum Livesavers.

Jami Tells You About Another Dream

My friends either get sick of hearing about my dreams or else can't wait to hear more. I have bizarre, intricately detailed dreams all the time, and remember at least one dream at least 4 or 5 days a week. Mostly they are uninteresting, sort of the equivalent of a normal day. Sometimes they aren't. Last night I had a dream that Brent Spiner was determined to woo me away from the Husband. He and I apparently worked at the same elementary school: me as a teacher, him as some sort of administrator. He even used his authority in that role to set up situations which placed us together and the like. It culminated in the school's Renaissance Day (what, grade schools don't have Renaissance days?) in which not only did Brent use his power to name me the Renaissance Day Princess, he also bought me a gorgeous gown and one of those pointy princess hats, and he even arranged for the prince (him, of course) to pick me up at my house and take me to the school in a horse-drawn carriage. Because my brain is seriously warped, as we climbed out of the carriage, one of the horses peed, somehow hitting his shirt, which he had to change. I expected him to be in shape, but his Bowflex Infomercial body surprised and impressed me; the jailhouse-looking tattoo, however, was a little off putting. We danced at the Prince and Princess Feast, and when he tried to kiss me, I immediately put an end to that and reminded him that I am happily married. Brent informed me that he didn't care about that "minor detail" and that he'd pursue me for the rest of our lives, but "not in a scary way". I was very flattered, though I knew his efforts would be fruitless. Here are some points I find most interesting about the Brent dream:

• I've never been attracted to Brent. Not that I'm repulsed or anything, but he's not really my type, plus older than my dad, if IMDB is to be believed. He's a fine actor, but not one that I ever considered as a possible future beau.
• I'm not a teacher and if I were, it wouldn't be in an elementary school. That is my least favorite age of kids - that's right, I'd take Junior High over third grade any day.
• In many of my dreams, men other than the Husband are interested in me (and why not? I'm great!) and there are basically three scenarios: 1. I basically spend most of the dream flattered, but resisting the advances. 2. The Husband doesn't seem to mind me dating other men or 3. the Husband is gone, either having left me or just mysteriously vanished and no one thinks anything of it. This clearly was a 1.
• Notice that I made myself princess and not queen. Also, as much as I dearly love tiaras, I didn't have one. Just the pointy hat with the scarf-thing. Is there a name for those?
• For the life of me, I can't explain why he had nicely ripped muscles (you know, shaped, but not gross) and a seriously disturbing tatt. I don't know that much about the actor, but it's my guess that neither is really Mr. Spiner's style.
• Apparently, in my subconscious, stalking is fine as long as it's performed "not in a scary way".

Jami Catches Up

Whew, it's been awhile since I posted. Thanks to a busy week and a minor computer issue, suddenly it's been a week with no post. Apologies. First, congrats to Lori - this week's winner of Jami's Word Game for her excellent use of last week's word, "vexatious" - see her use in the comment section of this post. Lori doesn't have a blog (as far as I know) so no link, but way to use the word, Lori and keep up the fine work! Lori recently taught me the word "chaplet" which actually came up in a conversation shortly thereafter. Three weeks, three different winners, are you next?? I know you can do it. This week's word is: turbid [tur-bid] 1. not clear or transparent because of stirred-up sediment or the like; clouded; opaque; obscured: the turbid waters near the waterfall. 2. thick or dense, as smoke or clouds. 3. confused; muddled; disturbed. This is a new one on me, I'd heard of "turgid" but never this one. Best of luck, post your entries and I hope you win. Other brief notes: We're going camping this weekend and I can't wait. I so need a break and there's not much that's both cheap and totally relaxing as drinking malt-ternatives around a campfire. However I am also totally dreading the part of the weekend that is leaving Eddie for two whole days. I've never been away from him that long (since he came home). He's all excited, he loooooves going to Grammy and Pop's house, it's all he's talked about all day. So I may be crying into my malt-ternative. I'm out of Sue Grafton books. I thought she'd finished the alphabet (she writes the A is for . .B is for . . . mysteries). I counted on a nice full 26 books before I ran out, she started writing these in the 80s, after all and I go to get T and it's not even released yet!! There is a 200+ person waiting list!! What the $*%#? Where's my *$#%^ "T", Sue?? "S" came out two years ago, I read way faster than that! Grrr. This happens to me with every author. I'm not even a huge mystery fan, it was just something to keep me busy between other books and now I'm out. So sad. Does anyone else think OJ Simpson is some sort of criminal savant? Commits a double-homicide, gets away with it, commits some more felonies (sure, 10 years later, but still) and makes such idiotic remarks as "I thought what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas" (um, I doubt they said that to encourage you to come to Vegas and commit armed robbery; I think they were going more for the legal, but perhaps less moral activities) and something about how could people say he'd think he'd get away with a crime (hmmmmmm). Sigh. Please, OJ, muster what little dignity you have left and stop breaking the law. Please. Here's the story of a woman who tried to eBay her two kids (just for a couple of days). I can't imagine what could go wrong with that. Having kids leads you to say things you never thought you would, like "Please quit rubbing cheese into your hair", "No chasing the dog with pliers!" and "You're lying, you did poop!" I had a dream last night, the details unimportant, but the cool part was that it had a soundtrack - all Monkees songs, too. So now, I guess we're all caught up. Don't forget to post your entries to the word game here. Peace out, I gotta go catch a tiny lunatic and try to convince him to go to sleep.

Jami and PW Hit the Stage

Okay, I know I'd promised Part Two of me against nature, but I had the greatest dream last night and I have to share. PW brought me a flyer about a huge concert being put together right here in Pittsburgh - open to any band touring in the late 80's or early 90's. I showed only mild interest, I'd wait and see who would be there before getting excited. But PW hadn't been talking about going to the concert, she wanted us to sign up for the concert. I didn't understand, so she explained further. She wanted us to go to the organizers and tell them we are the Indigo Girls. She had it on good authority that they wouldn't be there, and we both like them, so why not just be them? I have to admit I went along with it somewhat reluctantly, seeing as we look nothing like either one. Also, to the best of my knowledge, PW is not big on the singing in public. And neither of us plays guitar. But she seemed to think that these were not really problems. So we went to the open sign up thing and told them we were the Indigo Girls and they believed it, we were in. Oh, and behind us in line, Cher. The next part of the dream was the concert itself. We'd apparently procured a "band" - two guitar playing chicks and a drummer. We were backstage getting ready and I was so nervous I thought I'd upchuck, which is my normal pre-performance state. For whatever reason, we had decided not to rehearse, and PW had put together our playlist, which I had not even seen. The stage was arranged with two benches, one which PW and I sat on and one for our band. Our music stand had the playlist, and the first title listed was "When I Went To School" which I'd never heard of, and as far as I know, is not a song by the Indigo Girls or anyone else. PW hadn't provided lyrics, apparently assuming I'd know them, and she just started right in. I faked a coughing fit and a stagehand brought me some water. By the time I'd had the water, PW had gotten through the chorus once, so I joined in the next time, making up harmony as we went. The rest of the songs I knew, and at the end we did "Closer to Fine" as an encore. I couldn't believe we got away with it. There's no moral or meaning, I think, but I had a great time.

I'm a Mother, I'm a Dreamer, He's a Midnight Screamer

Okay, so technically it wasn't midnight, but 4 am when my adorable son decided to start what we call "dingo screaming". These are screams that are issued for no discernible reason, so we assume there must be dingos trying to steal him, and that they run off when they hear me getting out of bed. Anyway, I rocked him back to sleep, but then had a hard time drifting back off myself. I was probably up about an hour before I finally managed to get back to Slumberland. During this sleep session, I had two dreams about Eddie. First, I dreamt that I lost him. Just simply misplaced the baby. I was, of course, too mortified to admit this to anyone, so I was trying to question people about it without arousing suspicions. "Have you seen Eddie . . . in his new outfit?" I told people that my mom had him, or the Husband did, or that Eddie was just up in his crib napping, or whatever. I did eventually find him, at Eckerds. I guess they just have everything, even your baby. In the second dream, I attempted to teach Eddie to sing. Specifically, we were working on some vocal exercises, but Eddie was just not at all cooperative. I'd say "Now Eddie, try it like this" then I'd sing up and down the scale "La, la, la, LA, la, la, la!" And Eddie would respond with two or three "Aahhhhhh!"s and never on the right notes. Have you figured this one out yet? Yup, in the waking world, poor Eddie, awake and alert, hollered to be set free from his crib, but my sleepy brain decided to pretend we didn't notice. Not too worry, no dingos - just time to get up and get the day started.

Smoke and Mirrors

I mentioned to my friend Aerie, a loyal blog reader, that in my dreams, I'm almost always smoking, or at least holding a cigarette. This is particularly odd, since I don't smoke and really never smoked. Yes, I tried a puff, mostly out of curiosity in 9th grade. I almost gagged and asked the person who had let me have a drag off her cigarette - "Ugh, that tastes so bad, why would you ever put it in your mouth AGAIN?" When intoxicated, I have occasionally attempted to smoke, though my sober compatriots inform me that I mostly wave the cigarettes around and occasionally take a very shallow hit off of it. But, about a month ago, I woke up after a dream that ended with me unsuccessfully trying to light (another) cigarette. When I thought about it and subsequently began to pay attention, I realized that more often than not, when I'm dreaming, Dream Me is smoking. It's never the plot or focus of the dream, but just a normal part of what I'm doing. Or in the dream, I slip outside to have a smoke. Or will be talking to someone while I'm lighting one. I don't know why. Some of the dream interpretation websites say that smoking a cigarette is a lucky omen. Some say it's a way of establishing or wishing for independence or being cool. One says that it's a sign that my subconscious knows there is some illness in my body. One suggested that they are phallic symbols OR indicate a destruction of resources. Hmm, seems the Internet won't be that much help on this one. Maybe my subconscious is trying to kill me by encouraging me to smoke. Another recurring oddity is the inability to see myself in the mirror in my dreams. It's never something scary or weird, it's more just like I'm never positioned right, I see other things in the mirror, even what's behind me, but my reflection is not in sight. Not even going to try the web on that one...

Jami Cracks Under the Pressure of Blogging

As mentioned in a previous post, I remember dreams every night. As many of you know, when something stressful is approaching I usually dream that something about it went very, very bad (remind me to tell you the one about the Christmas play with the "charred corpses of our enemies . . ."). And, if you didn't notice yet, I'm a big dork. No, really, it's okay, I know. So I started this blog and thought "no one will want to read my randomness, and that's fine" but then - a few people read and - BAM! I'm a glory hog (which we also all knew). Two or three comments and now I want the whole world to read it, and comment (positively, of course). I check it all the time to see if there are new comments. Like the first time you had an email account and you checked it every minute to see if there was email - that's me. This all ties together because last night the blogging invaded my dreams. In my dream, my dear friend who posts as Paperback Writer was copying my posts to her new blog, almost as soon as I'd posted them here. And, since PW is way cooler and more popular than I am, tons of people were reading and giving her glowing comments. It was sooo cruel. PW assures me she would never do this (which I already knew), but it was still disturbing. The pressure of being this funny (and yes I realize this one wasn't that funny) must be too much for me. And I'll be back in 5 minutes to see if you've commented. Please say something nice, I need the sleep . . .

Brain Poo?

I remember more of my dreams than most people seem to. I have great vivid, long, full color dreams that sometimes I remember as real until I realize it's not possible. Those who've starred in one have probably heard about it. So, where do these dreams come from? Here's a few theories I've heard: 1. Divine Messages - clearly in the Bible, God sends people messages in dreams. Since I believe the Bible to be true, I believe this is the source, very rarely, of dreams. However, the vast majority of our dreams are probably not of this particular variety, and if they are, I have been seriously, seriously missing the point for many, many years. 2. Brain Poo - a friend of mine once told me that she'd learned in her psych class that dreams were basically Brain Poo (this was not the technical term). The theory was that all day long, we "feed" our brain - images, conversations, sounds, TV shows, memories, whatever. Then, at the end of the day when we're sleeping, your brain digests all the food from the day, and the dreams are basically what comes out. While I like this theory and think there is probably some merit to it, that sure doesn't explain why I dream about someone I haven't even thought about in years, or, like the other day, when I dreamed about my friends in an Ice Dancing Competition. Trust me, ice dancing is not something I have seen, discussed or even thought about in quite some time. 3. Subconscious Warnings - I've heard that some dreams, nightmares especially are our subconscious minds trying to warn us, prepare us for certain dangers or work out problems that we're having. While I have certianly woken up from nightmares and subsequently planned what I would do if that had happened (or what I should have done), many of my nightmares are not really situations I need to prepare for. I've had several realistic dreams in which Chas tried to kill me. Now, I am sure that some of you are thinking "Well, sure, if I were married to you, I'd certainly be considering it. . . ." but since we're approaching our 10th anniversary and he hasn't tried yet, I'm guessing it's probably not gonna happen. I could be wrong, just saying. Also, studies show that people are more likely to have nightmares the warmer they are - so what does that mean? Warmer temperatures wake up the subconcious? 4. What You Ate - this is one you've all heard. When I tell my latest dream to Tim, he almost always asks "And what did you eat before bed?" or some variation on that. I don't know what leads us to believe that certain foods cause bad dreams, though the time that Chas mixed several of the hottest wing flavors at Quaker Steak and Lube, he had a dream that I have sworn never to reveal the contents of to any living soul. Being the brilliant psychological expert that I am, I'm going to say that dreams must be a little bit of all of the above, plus some X factor we can't fathom. We haven't figured out the human brain yet, and maybe one day, some scientist will be able to plug a USB cable into our brains and watch our entire dream, then burn the good ones to DVD so we can watch them again later. Maybe then it'll all be clear. I hope not. Life needs a few good mysteries.