There's this great scene in Pee-Wee's Big Adventure when he's sitting inside of a giant dinosaur with Simone, a woman he's just met. She asks him about his dreams and he starts responding with the line in the title of this blog. It's hilarious not only because she's asking him about his dreams and aspirations (not literal dreams), but because it's such a non sequitor response.
Although as of very recently, I can totally relate. You see, dear readers, yours truly is undergoing a transitional period of switching from one routine of treatment for bi-polar disorder (2 types of pills, 3 1/2 pills total/day) to another (one pill, once a day). It's a change for the best, but it's wrought a big of havoc as of late, not the least of which are technicolor-vivid dreams incorporating past, present, and - in once bizarre case - even real life in real time. Let me illustrate with an example.
Last night found me a bit restless, but finally sleeping for a few hours in a row. Suddently I realized that my Mom was asking me about my senior recital for piano. Mind you, I haven't been a senior in high school for over a decade. As I was whining and complaining, I hopped into her bright yellow H2, which was parked in my old church's parking lot. It took me a minute to recall that my mother does not own an H2 - she has a minivan. I inquired about the vehicle and she said the ladies in the church kitchen didn't use it during the day so - obviously! duh! - my Mom drove it around. Okay, fair enough.
We get back to my parents house and I'm still whining that I simply was not prepared to give a recital in 10 days. Besides, I couldn't find the song book I was looking for, although I seem to have a disproportionate number of Beatles' song books. (Blame it on their recent Guitar Hero special edition.) My Mom and Dad were telling me to hurry up, the song books were all jumbled under the piano bench with my clothes - like my actual clothes that I recognized from real life (why hello, Gap plum striped v-neck t-shirt) - and I was just in a panic trying to get my books together.
You see, before I had run into my Mom at church, I had actually stopped by my piano teacher's studio which was inexplicably at the end of a hallway in a huge school (in real life she taught out of her home), but luckily I had arrived well before my lesson time and for some reason there was a line out the door. I guess she's really popular in my dreams! Oh, and I saw my best friend from third grade in the hallway and promised to catch up with him after my lesson. So, anyway, I know the clock is ticking and all I have to do is get back to the end of that hallway, play "Yesterday" or something and get on with.
Only by the time I locate the right books, the H2 is gone from my parent's driveway. Luckily, however, there's a horse there and - guess what? - I know how to ride it! I can sense that my entire family is also riding the horse with me, although don't ask me how that happened. Next thing I know I'm on the snowy streets of Girls School Road heading toward 10th Street and then on past my old schools Fulton and Ben Davis and I just know that other school is up on the right. It's like a video game, getting down the street, with pedestrians running out in front of me, cars dogding in and out of lanes...the whole nine yards.
Finally we arrive at what I think is the entrance (almost there, Mrs. Smith, piano teacher du jour!) but it doesn't look quite right and so we go to the next entrance and then we're at some terribly fancy, ginormous stone building that I sense if for the American Legion and whatnot and some guy in a top hat and tails is leading my horse inside and helping me dismount. I say goodbye to my family and ask how I get back to the school, where my piano teacher's waiting, which I'm still pretty sure is right next door. They tell me the next tour leaves in 15 minutes. A tour?! I can't just walk there?
Okay, fine. I get into the right tour, but before we can leave I realize President Obama is addressing the group! I must be somewhere important! How exciting! As we file out past the President I realize that I'm wearing some Army uniform and Obama looks right at me and says, "Don't you know it's illegal to wear that if it's not yours?" I mumble something about it being a fake and promise to take it off right away. Okay - there's my tour. Wait, wrong turnstyle. Wait! Where'd they go? Nooo...they left without me. I guess I'll still down in these chairs and see what's going on in the auditorium.
Ruh-roh, people are debating health care and I can tell I'm definitely not among like-minded individuals. As the presenters get more and more in-depth with the single payer versus public options I can't help but wonder how my brain is processing all of this in a dream. Slowly I realize I'm recognizing a voice. It's Mika Brzezinski from MSNBC's Morning Joe. Ahh...I've been slowly waking up and incorporating the television show into my dream. Phew! I hope I wouldn't end such a fantastical dream on such a boring note.
So there you have it. Don't do drugs kids. And if you do, make sure they're the legal kind that let you ride horses and meet the President.