← January 2005 | Main | March 2005 →
February 26, 2005
nightmare hotline gives you so much more
I dreamed I was walking down the hall to get to my apartment, and as I turned my key into the lock, a man with curly redhair and thick, disdainful mouth shoved me inside the room and planted a syringe into my arm. It was called Orfine and turned the edge of everything I touched into razorblades, so I couldn’t open the door or escape through a window. Panicked, I asked with all my might for another dream, and it worked. I then dreamed of an old scholar in a dark armchair, with a pile of horror paperbacks beneath his feet. He was addressing me solemnly, as mean orange gleams filled the room. “Read these scary stories at daylight, after lunch or while commuting, not before going to bed.”
I woke up and thought about my dream for a long time. Despite its perceived ‘controlled’ resolution and the silliness of it, I was still feeling anxious and upset. The bad thoughts lingered over breakfast, and I remembered about the free Nightmare Hotline I read about a while ago, on slowwave.com. I had carved the number on my placemat for fun, but never thought about calling. Until something drew me to it this afternoon.
The prerecorded greeting and bad musak reminded me of prank calls to the Mr. Christie’s cookies Hotline and the likes, in company of giggling schoolmates. I suddenly felt that the nightmare volunteers’ goodwill shouldn’t be sneered at and I was about to hang up, when a lady came on the phone.
Her voice was frail and old, but also warm and soothing. I felt self-conscious, not sure if I could let my reserve go. I asked if they offered interpretations, or consigned the dreams for research, or something else. She left a few seconds of silence extend between our voices before saying, dreams cannot be interpreted, only dreamt, and told. She invited me to share a childhood nightmare, and I went on from there.
One of the interesting aspects she mentioned was in regards to the themes and symbols that a recurring nightmare involve, and how theory suggests that a parallel can be established with an unresolved issue in the dreamer’s waking life. She said that maybe the dreams just parallel and feed one another, their meaning contained within themselves. She told me some funny and twisted moon indian tales, of giant bears found to be frauds, of dreams used as smoke signals. Unlike me writing this down, the lady conveyed such an empathy, a gracious curiosity towards the strange nighttime workings of our minds, that the thought of this old woman giving all her attention to strangers’ nightmares, and providing comfort (perhaps the same way she once cared for her own tearful children, awaking in a sweat), the thought simply overjoy me.
Posted by nathalie at 06:37 PM
February 18, 2005
snow now
Perhaps after all what I need is a laptop. Yesterday I set up my iMac on a chair and dragged it across the room so I could write and play from the futon, sitting indian-style, all tangled up in wires. It isn’t the most ergonomical of arrangment, though the light seems to come in a renewed way. I believe I’m mostly done with moving things around now. I ended up telling my landlord that I would stay for another year, she said great, and promised more flowers, and longer washing machine cycles still at the same low price. My neighbours Cheech & Chong vowed to try and grow corn plants on our shared balcony, but what I requested is a windscreen, a sundial. It doesn’t really matter. The important is that plans have been made, and I can now sit back and relax.
But I just can’t wait to be outside, under the bright white sky! On Fridays I am generally useless, and this is when I like best meeting up with a friend, have coffees and walk home early, pleasantly exhausted and a litl-l-e wired.
I wanted to mention the obituary published in the Globe and Mail, about Navarino’s coolest employee, Andrea. Reading this makes me feel sadness and regrets, for friends long lost, my helplessness, I still and never will know what to say.
Posted by nathalie at 04:49 PM
February 09, 2005
And I think everybody understands what the ‘next steps’ mean…
A week of dense fog, unreasonable february rain and stealth job interviews during lunchtimes has left me quite out of breath, with a terrible thirst, wishing for dark sunglasses and no people.
On my way to the copy machine, not returning anyone’s high-five, I couldn’t help thinking, I just don’t remember having ever been a cheerful person. And despite claims to the opposite by uninformed people, I have never been one to idealize childhood either. My earliest memories are of anguish and restlessness - dad steps on the cat’s tail, I sit in my crib, wishing to be teleported somewhere else, anywhere, etc! And this is why I’ve always got the blues.
Thanks god I have a blog, and not a see-through forehead… I need to halt this ridiculous train of thoughts. When I was younger, what always worked very well against black thoughts was to think of amusement parks, and to plan my next excursion at La Ronde (now Six Flags). As I grew older, there was always a sweet boy with piercing eyes to think of, a party to anticipate, or new records to pick up.
Now this being February I have armed myself doubly, and I summon altogether happy thoughts of tall grass, of improbable graffitis and pigeon families on high bridges and rooftops, of the 3-months liquor store strike ending this Friday at noon, of Laura Secord prices on February 15, of a Malajube or whoever else concert with music loud enough for the ringing to last me all through the week, of blue summer and speeding comets, and most especially today, of sharing grandfatherly drinks, such as the Stinger(brandy and white crème de menthe), or the Bourbon Stone Sour, with pogo.
Posted by nathalie at 12:47 PM | Comments (1)
February 03, 2005
means an all consuming desire to resign
last night i had this dream i keep having now and then, of being on a scary car ride. my friend’s sister was the driver, speeding on an intricate highway overpass. i thought i would die every time she missed a turn and passed overboard the fence, but the car just kept falling with a terrible noise on another highway underneath.
Posted by nathalie at 10:34 PM | Comments (3)