I had a dream last night about throwing a party. It was in my mother’s house (the house I grew up in). Most of my dreams take place there or my grandmother’s house next door. I never seem to dream about the house I actually live in. I wonder why that is?
But I digress. In the dream I was trying to find something clean to wear to the party. I had a series of jackets in my closet. One of them was a fur coat that Tess had given me (not really, but in the dream). I felt guilty looking at it because I wouldn’t be caught dead in it. So it sat in the closet.
The party was pretty lame because I hadn’t thought to buy much in the way of party food. This is not surprising because although I’m a pretty good cook, I suck at planning parties. In fact, I really don’t like parties. I’m relatively antisocial. Ironic that marketing is my profession. Though I put marketing people in two categories -- creative introverts and slimy extroverts. I like to think of myself as more of the creative introvert, but I can be a slimy extrovert if the occasion merits it.
I don’t remember much more of the dream. I don’t think I wore the fur coat though.
Oh, but there were three or four kittens playing in my parents bedroom after the party. I love kittens.
I haven’t a clue as to where this dream came from. I was watching Robert DeNiro in Deer Hunter before I went to bed. I’m pretty sure that wasn’t the inspiration. Though they do wear furry hunting hats in the film. I ate some barbecued chicken and macaroni and cheese for dinner. But I don’t subscribe to the theory that indigestion impacts dreams.
So where do dreams come from? I probably shouldn’t ask that question. Because experience at blogging has taught me that for every question, some one out there has an answer. And sometimes we just ask questions.