Stay Awake, Don't Nod and Dream (or a tree might fall on your dream house)

There is nothing quite like a good dream, you know? And I can't find one to save my frikkin' sleepy ass.

It's not that I'm having nightmares; those stopped when I got over my fear of spiders. But my dreams are a tad stressed these days, something to do with several louds CRACKS in the middle of the night, and plummeting branches and whatnot.

For instance, I dreamt I was parachuting from a plane in the middle of a dogfight. The red baron was shooting tracers from his "big guns" at my tiny little dream angel who was swinging calmly from a trapeze anchored in a cloud. My dream angel was returning fire by laughing delightful little "ha ha's," each landing with unerring accuracy on the tip of the red baron's bulbous nose, leaving him with silver kisses on his splotchy red face.

I knew to mind my own bizness, the red baron was hers and mine was landing upright on the fast-approaching ground. But it's a little difficult to concentrate when you have bullets and silver laughs whizzing by in all directions, and really, you think it's a gentle drift to earth from a parachute, but it's more of a gentle plummet than drift...at least in dreamality. And a plummet's a plummet, IMHO.

Last night, I dreamt I was standing in a fairy circle trying to remain in the exact center of the circle which is in sanity. I was concentrating hard because the draemons were doing their best to unbalance my self-confidence, dancing all around the perimeter of the fairy circle and laughing their hellevil laughs (which are NOT delightful little "ha ha's"). They were stretching their hairy arms into MySpace in an effort to snatch at (or at least rake their poisonous black claws down) me. And my dream angel (who was dressed, by the way, in a fabulous Vera Wang chemise) was floating just above the fairy circle, holding a slender willow wand that was showering iridescent sparkles that cascaded in a perfect parabola to form a shimmering bubble of dream-state protection over and around me.

This was irritating the draemons no end because every time they came in contact with the magic bubble, the hair on their arms would whisk away leaving smooth and ageless skin, which is not a draemon's desired look (although I'd love to have such myself!). And they were, then, each laughing at their fellow draemons, calling them sissy girls and smooth bottom devils and whatnot, and they were becoming increasingly agitated with each other and, thus, me, the object of their malevolent intent.

And even though I knew my dream angel had the situation well in hand, I was terrified because, really, have you seen the face of a draemon up close and personal? It looks a tad like Ger's bitter beer face, except misshapen. But then, of a sudden, I noticed all these dandelions springing up outside the circle and all underfoot of the draemons, and I suddenly determined that I would NOT be afraid for my dreamy life, and I stepped to the edge of the fairy circle till I was nose-to-nose with the magic bubble. I gave a nod to my dream angel who gave me the sweetest smile that said, "I am so very proud of you," and she shook a final drop or two of angeldust from the end of the wand, and the bubble dissipated, and I said to the draemon that I was now nose-to-hairy-nose with, "a weed is but a flower yet unnamed."

And the draemon howled in pain and the other draemons joined, and they covered their eyes and ears and began dancing like the ground was burning their feet. Then they turned en masse and fled to their hidey-hole in the bookcliffs.

And my dream angel stepped lightly to stand next to me, where she smoothed my disheveled hair and, setting a vase full of bright yellow dandelions on the bedside table, pulled the magic covers over my head and bid me gentle sleep. So I cuddled up to my super-soft blankie named ghe-ghe, and did just that.