WTF dReAm

Yesterday, after posting my racing The Hobbit cast dream, I went back and looked at my other dream post. I’d totally forgotten about the one where I was a man pregnant with Richard’s child! I think I must have been blocking it out. 😉 However, the realization that I’d already posted a dream such as that–one that could potentially get some knickers in a twist–I decided to go ahead and post another of my recent dreams.

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I rise from bed and pad into the kitchen. There at the counter I climb onto a bar stool and see the paper and magazines laid out. As I’m flipping through, one article immediately catches my attention.

“Is Richard Armitage being kept out of the spotlight by his managers?”

Intrigued, I read through the article and am astonished by what I see. The reserved, private actor is in the midst of a controversy, having admitted in an interview towards the end of The Hobbit press conference that he likes, of all things, corndogs. Horrified by the possible backlash, it is rumored that that his PR team are working on damage control. Not only that, but they’ve insisted that the star return to his usual under the radar persona until things cool down.

That’s it? That doesn’t sound scandalous at all. There has to be more to this that what the article indicates. So what if he likes corn dogs. I like them too. They may not be the healthiest food, but as an occasional indulgence, I don’t see a problem.

There must be some slang definition I don’t know about. Having decided that this must be the case, I pull my laptop towards me, and boot it up. While waiting, I idly wonder what possible meaning “corn dog” could have as I sip my coffee.

Computer booted, I pull up my web browser, and type in the address for the one website I know will have answers to my question—Urban Dictionary. I type in “corn dog” and can feel myself holding my breath as I press enter, anxious and slightly nervous about what possible definitions might pop up.

The page loads and I scroll down. At what I see, I nearly spray coffee out of my mouth in shock.

Corn dog: A rough hand job, performed in a public location by a stranger, usually another male.

HOLY CRAP!!!

I cannot believe what I’ve just read. Richard Armitage is so notoriously private that such an admission seems impossible. My mind is spinning and spinning as I try and make sense of what I’ve read.

Ring, Ring, Ring

I jolted wide a wake and jumped out of bed to answer the phone. I’m still curious where this dream might have gone were it not for my abrupt wake up call.

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FYI: When I looked up “corn dog” in a waking state—how could I not—I discovered there isn’t a definition even close to the one found in my dream.

Crazy Dream

Only once before have I posted about dreams on this blog. Not because I’m disinclined to share, but because I so very rarely have dreams that I remember. For some strange reason, I’ve been having a lot of vivid dreams of late and all of them have had to do with Richard Armitage in some fashion or another. I don’t remember all of them, some of them I just wake up with vague impressions.

For instance, there was one that I know was a racy dream involving Richard and one of his Hobbit costars (I’m not naming names, but they reportedly went to see a film together). Gotta admit, I was a bit disappointed that I didn’t have a clear recollection of that one. 😉

Then there are the dreams that I can remember vividly when I wake up. So, here is one of those:

The cast of The Hobbit are doing a run across the United States of America as part of the promotion for The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey. To draw more attention, the powers that be decided it should be a race. I am the competition. Me against the whole of the cast.

As dreams often do, this one shifts in and out. I know I’m running and I get flashes of different landscapes as I progress across the country. Suddenly I’m standing in a hotel in Oklahoma City and overhear a conversation that has me livid. The cast are going to hop on a plane and fly the rest of the way to LA. However, once they get there, they are going to pretend that they’ve actually run the whole distance.

Pissed off at the injustice of it all I yell, “This is bullshit!” before storming off and down an escalator.

I hear Richard calling my name and see in my peripheral vision that he’s following me. As I get to the ground floor, I start running east–seeing as there isn’t any point in continuing with this farce of a race. I’m under an overpass at a major interchange when he finally catches up to me and apologizes. He tells me that he knows what they’re doing is horrible, but they don’t really have any say in the matter.

Then the dream faded.

Crazy, right? It is probably a good thing I don’t really go in for dream interpretation, because this one was just off the charts. 😉

dReAms

Some people regularly have vivid dreams. And I personally love to hear about them…I prefer when their dreams are good, but I still like to hear them recount the bad ones. I have never in my life been one to remember good dreams. Rather, as far back as I can remember, the only dreams I’ve ever remembered were the horrible ones.

The first time this happened, I was six and started having–unfortunately–a recurring nightmare about me and the devil. Each and every time I had this dream, he would follow me and pretend to be my friend. Politely he would ask if he could have my bicycle. I would refuse, knowing that my parents would punish me for giving the bike away. Since I wouldn’t give him my bike, he would tell me I had to be punished and proceed to drag me to hell. In hindsight, it is kind of humorous, but for a six year old (and especially a six year old who grew up in a devout Southern Baptist family) it was horrifying.

There were other dreams over the years, but none that struck me so forcefully that I remembered them for long periods of time. This changed not long after the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami. Imagine driving down a dirt road along the ocean. Sounds pretty nice, right. But suddenly, a giant wave grabs your bus and your being tossed and turned inside the bus, watching the bus surrounded on all sides by churning water until it fills completely. Then you wake up gasping for breathe, because in the dream you were drowning.

Yeah, these dreams suck! So, while each night I attend Armitage World Chat, I echo the goodbye of “sweet dReAms,” the truth is–I’ve not really desired to have a dream in which Richard Armitage appeared.  My reason–I’m sure you can guess by now–is because I’ve been certain that were I to remember the dream, it would be a nightmare.

Well, in the last week or two I’ve started having dreams in which he has appeared. I’ve decided to share, because I’m interested to see what people make of them. Because of the content of the first dream, I feel the need to clarify ahead of time that we have no control over what we dream and that my dreams don’t necessarily reflect my views or opinions about Mr. Armitage–in other words, don’t flay me alive for something I had no control over.

The first dream: Richard Armitage and I were a couple and I was pregnant with his baby. The problem (yes there was a problem) was that I wasn’t really me, but a MAN. As the dream continued RA was so concerned that people would find out about our unusual situation, that I had a sex change.

This is similar to how RA looked in the first dream.

Random and short, but still disturbing at the time. It didn’t take long before I could laugh at the absurdity of it.

Dream two:

I went to answer my door and my neighbors were there. As soon as they entered a huge storm kicked up with the most ominous clouds and fiercest wind I’ve ever experienced. We watched for a while out of windows, until the windows started rattling. Realizing things were quickly getting dangerous, we ran for the only interior room of the house, a bathroom. By the time we got there the windows were out of the house and it took all our effort to get the bathroom door closed. Then, as quickly as it started the  wind died, however the rain continued. The windows all along the back of the house (which wasn’t my real life house) were missing. It also turned out we had a basement (this was the basement from my childhood home) in which the windows had been blown out.

Apparently, my house was the only one effected by the storm, because people were coming out of the wood-works to help us secure the house from the rain. There were people from the church I grew up in, and friends from grad school helping. I spent more time wandering around thanking people for coming and helping than actually working. It didn’t really register as much (sorry Judi) but David Tennant was taping a tarp up where one of the windows had blown out.

Then I saw him, Guy of Gisborne (the greasy, long haired,  disheveled Guy from series 3) was helping lift bi-fold doors that had the windows blown out of them. He proceeded to debate with those whom he worked about the best way to keep the rain out. I watched for a while, in shock (what was Guy of Gisborne doing in my storm ravaged house?). While still staring he turned to face me, grinning broadly and then he winked. When everything was secure. The neighbors went home and everyone else essentially evaporated. Everyone that is, except for Guy. He came over and kissed me, like REALLY kissed me. Then I woke up.

Truthfully, I don’t know what to make of the fact that I’ve started having these dreams. Any ideas?