Archive | August, 2013

Dollhouse Dream

30 Aug

I had a dream in which I was at my parents’ house, particularly in the kitchen. I was attempting to sort through and organize a hoard of food. I may have also been attempting to find something I was willing to eat, in which case this simply led to my sorting through and organizing food and throwing out stuff that had expired. I think both my mother and my brother were in the kitchen. Maybe my mother wasn’t there, since I don’t remember any shouting or raised voices or sarcasm or other viciousness. Meanwhile, I was feeling overwhelmed at the quantity of food.

While I was still organizing food, my dad showed up with a huge, long bag full of groceries he just bought. So I started going through that, too, and I came across a big loaf of sliced sandwich bread wrapped in plastic.

 

I had a dream in which I lived in an apartment with others, I think my mother included. But the really interesting part of this dream was that I had a huge dollhouse—unfortunately, it was made from an aunt, and I’m afraid that may have been Evil Aunt Ethel. But anyway, the dollhouse was in the hallway of the apartment building, and I was so impressed with it, I wanted neighbors to look at it with awe and gush about how beautiful and magical and amazing it was.

Now that I’m awake, I rather think the dollhouse was about twice normal dollhouse scale, which is part of the reason it was so large. The dollhouse didn’t have glass in the windows, but I thought they were impressive because at least some of the windows were arched. I thought of it as a manor or castle. It included a tower on one side and had dramatic green siding on the roof—a very steep roof, with only one slant rather than a point at the top. There was a spiral staircase. The dollhouse had at least one bright red-painted chimney. It didn’t have much furniture or many miniatures, and I vaguely recall thinking in a general sort of way about creating miniatures and furniture but strangely I don’t recall thinking about it specifically for this dollhouse.

At some point in the dream, I had the dollhouse switched around so that instead of the colorful front showing on display in the hallway, the back of the dollhouse was out and visible in the hallway. It was mostly plain white, but you could get glimpses of the more fascinating side, the interior. It seems to me that while the colorful side was turned out in the hallway, it had outer walls, too, so perhaps it was one of those dollhouses that have little hinged doors that you can open in order to see the interior of the dollhouse.

I was considering how some dollhouses are completely made from scratch by one individual and that one individual might make all the furniture and miniatures, too; and I thought about how, in other cases, a dollhouse might be very eclectic and have miniatures from many different places and many different artists. While I thought or talked about this, I had images of dollhouse images dancing in my head. I may or may not have been thinking of that in reference to this particular dollhouse; I just know I was thinking about this in a general way while walking beside a little girl and walking toward and around the dollhouse to show it off to her—maybe I had been saying those general things about dollhouses that I just described. I wanted her to be impressed and fascinated by the dollhouse, as I was, but she didn’t seem too interested.

Now that I’m awake, I think it’s significant that I wanted others to be impressed with the dollhouse, as impressed as I was, and they were simply indifferent, as though it were commonplace and boring. I remember there was an old woman who was a neighbor who just glanced at it indifferently and continued down the hallway, and I felt extremely disappointed in her reaction. Ditto when I showed the dollhouse off to the little girl.

Since I have a sense that an aunt, probably Evil Aunt Ethel (who really did make my mother a cardboard dollhouse when she was a little kid) made this dollhouse, I think it’s significant that outsiders, people who were not related to us, were unimpressed with the dollhouse. Maybe it represented Evil Aunt Ethel. I grew up very impressed with her, but any outsider could see that she was extremely unimpressive, which I didn’t understand. For instance, when Evil Aunt Ethel came to visit me at the dorm, she introduced herself cheerfully in a way that seemed to indicated that she assumed I’d gushed about her to my roommate. She grinned and said with practically a little skip-dance, while opening her arms in a wide and dramatic manner, announced, “And I’m Auntie Ethel!” Lisa, my roommate, didn’t even smile and was indeed as indifferent as were the people in the dream were indifferent toward the dollhouse.

Anxiety Dream Reminiscent of the Past

21 Aug

Before the noise of a power saw rudely awoke me, I was having a dream in which I had a much more professional-looking wardrobe and was running late for work and having a horrible time trying to figure out what to wear. Strangely, all the clocks in my apartment—even my cell phone (and I had the same cell phone)—were blank, not telling the time, after I realized that I was probably running late. The only one that has last worked before I made that realization was my cell phone.

So there I was, frantically going through a rack of clothing. There were a lot of blazers, especially black ones (I even found a couple that were black corduroy, one with a shawl collar), and I decided to wear my rayon challis navy blue and green pinstriped jumper (which I actually have in this reality), but I couldn’t find anything appropriate to wear with it. It was summer, so I didn’t want to wear one of those knit shirts (let alone the turtleneck) that in this reality I typically wear with that jumper. I kept coming across either blazers or soft, diaphanous blouses in a print that contrasted with the jumper. In this reality I like mixing prints, but with the wardrobe in the dream that didn’t seem to be an option.

One of these diaphanous blouses was red with large, bold white or peach flowers. Another was a somewhat dark mauve with a similar pattern to that, and it wrapped around and tied on the side like a Thai or Tibetan or Nepalese blouse. I couldn’t seem to find a blouse that was simply a plain black or navy blue or green—that would have been appropriate for the jumper. Maybe I would have decided to not wear the jumper—it’s hard to tell, since the racket woke me up a little bit before 8:30 am.

In the past, when I had jobs that certainly gave me regular paychecks but also chipped away at my confidence and self-esteem, I certainly did have mornings like that, when I went through my closet trying to find something to wear.