Puzzling Dream . . .

I don't usually speak of my dreams, but I took a nap this afternoon and dreamed something that I'm trying to figure out.

It was a dream about him, of course. Or was it?

In the dream, my parents were watching some TV show that they watched regularly. My sister was there and she pointed at one of the actors on the screen and asked something like "Isn't that [Mr. TBH]?"

And I wasn't sure. There was a certain resemblance (even as I turn the images over in my head, I see a kinda-sorta resemblance) but I couldn't say with certainty it was or wasn't him. The voice didn't sound like his--even in the dream I thought if I'd heard his voice, it would have done me in, but the voice of this actor didn't have that effect on me.

And yet, in the dream, I had memories of him mentioning that he'd done 'work' of some kind on the show (behind-the-scenes type work) but that he hadn't mentioned acting on it.

So I racked my dream mind trying to figure it out and stared at the screen at this person who may have been my lover. I don't recall the plot, just that he was one of several people on the screen. Something, maybe, about his declaring his love to someone who wasn't in the shot.

Then in the dream I was walking with my sister (down some stairs or something and then into somewhere outside) and talking about it. I asked her, with her entertainment industry experience, how long it took after shooting for a TV show to hit the screen. In the dream she said two weeks. (An absurd notion in reality, but this is my subconscious we're talking about.) I pondered and said that even if it took as many as eight weeks for special-effects-heavy shows (which this show wasn't--it was some kind of drama, the kind my parents watch) then it's entirely possible that this all took place after I'd broken off things with him and he'd diminished and later ceased communication with me.

Then I asked if maybe we could see in the credits if his name was there, but by the time we got back to look at the screen, the credits were just finishing.

And I couldn't call him and just ask him, because I'm not allowed to communicate with him that way right now.

Then I woke up and nearly forgot it until something flickered across my mind and brought it all back to me.

But the more I turn the pictures over in my head the more certain I am of this:

It wasn't him. It wasn't him at all.

And now, a proper blog entry . . .

Work is work, nothing terribly exciting to report. The lawyer who sublets an office from my bosses gave me a bottle of wine as a Christmas present. My bosses gave me a Pier One Imports gift card. Boss #2 dropped it on my desk with a "Happy . . . um, whatever it is you celebrate!" Christmas, I assured him, was fine. (My bosses know very little about my personal life, which is probably for the best.)

Saturday I braved the mall near my mailbox (the one I use for eBay and other don't-bug-me transactions) and got some things for my teenage niece. There's also a Pier One right by there, so I went to spend my gift card.

I looked at a few things, but waffled a bit on what to get. There were some fancy coasters, but I already have coasters. There were nice glasses, but I already have glasses.

Then I found the frog.

Sitting on a table somewhere near the scented candles (which I also already have, in abundance) was a gold-painted plaster frog, sitting in a meditation position with a serene smile on his face. What's even stranger was, I'd seen this frog before. Maybe not that exact one, but when I was at the Phoenix and Dragon (an incense-scented new age shop near my house) I discovered a sort of art gallery thingy in the back room. The walls were hung with Buddhist artwork for sale (really gorgeous and intricate stuff) and in one corner was this plaster meditating frog. I thought it was pretty cool and wished I had one of those. So, apparently, did a lot of people, because froggy had a sign which read "Sorry, not for sale!"

And here was another copy of that froggy, in Pier One. I picked him up and looked at the price tag. He cost exactly the amount of the gift card from my bosses.

I did look at other things for a little bit after that, but my heart wasn't in it.

Froggy now sits on the table that faces the entrance as I come in. I dug up some cloth and a scarf to cover the table with (and hide the phone books underneath it) so it looks a little nicer now.

He makes me smile every time I look at him. It's nice to have a reminder that serenity doesn't have to be that serious.

Today I took pleasure in Trader Joe's Spiced Cider.

Today I learned OMG THIS STUFF IS PURE AWESOME IN A CUP.