What's Molly Dreaming Now? Edition 5

First of all, my apologies to Joe and Honey. Apparently both men felt misled by the title of my last post. For the record, "orgasm" referred to the video I embedded.

Honey wanted to know if I was blogging about our sex life again. Again?! When did I start? ... so I've decided that must be what his poorly-hidden secret wife blogs about. At least I hope it's his secret wife; I'd be heartbroken if it were someone else entirely!

So, sorry boys. Maybe next time. Onto today's post!

I had a fantastically strange dream two nights ago that I really wanted to blog about immediately upon waking. Unfortunately, I got distracted by a project I had begun the night before. But it was completely fun, diversionary project, so not a huge loss. All that is to say, I'm going to try to recall it as best as I can, because I thought it was an interesting one as my funky dreamlife goes.

Queen Amidala/Natalie Portman. I jumping between first and third person in this one. Sometimes I was Amidala as portrayed by Ms. Portman, and sometimes I was watching her in this adventure. I was in danger. In a shack. I was being hunted, stalked, really. And who was after me? OBI-WAN KENOBI! Not the hot, young Ewan McGregor Obi-wan, the old Alec Guinness Obi-wan. (Let's be clear, Ewan McGregor stalking me would not be terrifying at all - or unwelcome, for that matter.) But here I was Amidala/Portman, in a shack by a road and the doors wouldn't lock properly and people would kind of come in and out to check on me and the whole time I felt like I had to catch my breath because I was never sure if it was my assailant. They would bring word of him, or would tell me they were returning shortly. For my part, I would lie on the floor of this crummy two and a half room shelter, and keep my eye on the window facing the front. This was where Obi-wan was sure to appear.

The windows were large, taking up a huge portion of the wall. The shack was on the side of a rural mountain road, like just off the shoulder. The road curved off toward the north. From the window I could see the bend in the road and the gravel shoulder and a cluster of trees at the bend. I would get up off the floor occasionally and check the doors. They would shut and semi-latch, but not lock. I had to hold them against the wind. Outdoors, it was beautiful - about as beautiful a day you could ask for: 80 degrees, sunny, the grass was dappled with the shadow of the trees' leaves. Inside, the shack was three shades of grey occasionally accented with a mud-colored table or cabinet. It was chilly inside, and the floors were covered in dust. It was filthy and depressing inside - Dickensian, almost - and beautiful outside. I kept trying to decide when I would sneak out the back of the house, to escape Obi-wan. For some reason, I thought it prudent if I saw him coming toward me, first.

Then some visitor - Anikin, maybe? - alerted me that Obi-wan was on his way, and he'd stop at nothing to kill me. He knows my thoughts. There is no place where I could hide from him. At this point, I seem to remember jumping to third person and seeing Natalie Portman; I was hovering over her. She was Amidala, but dressed more like Padme. (Just rent the frakking movie, Virginia Gal, it'll make a ton of more sense!) Then, somehow, Padme had escaped. She/I was on a bus - like a school bus - riding into ShangHai. Though it was definitely a school bus, the seats were arranged more like an airplane. As we drove into ShangHai, it became clear to me that Obi-wan was going to attack me on this ride. I was back in first person now, sitting in a window seat. The bus began to fill with smog. Not LA smog, not Mexico City smog (which is formidable, let me tell you), but vengeful, wicked ShangHai smog that was doing the bidding of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The smog was so thick that I couldn't see the bus driver or the first few rows of the bus, and I was only in the middle of the bus. I knew it was Obi-wan, after only me. Slowly, all the other passengers dissipated. Hanging from the roof of the bus was a leather trunk-like compartment. It resembled the emergency raft roof hatches on some airplanes, but was much more primitive. It unlatched and drifting down from it, towards me, was Obi-wan, like the angel of death. Alec Guinness in his brown cloak floating toward me like Voldemort before he had his body. I had been breathing deeply for a spell, while the smog had been rolling in. I was having some sort of asthma attack. As Guinness approached (wow, actually, a Guinness sounds really good right now), I jumped to third person and watched as he wrapped his hands around Natalie Portman's throat. She was scared and gasping.

I know the dream went on longer than that, and that I and Padme/Amidala/Portman survived, but I can't remember it. I just know that Obi-wan was neither conquered nor sated. And I woke up both scared and excited.

So, what do you think this all means? Background/caveats: I did watch the last half of "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" Monday night because TiVo thought we'd like it and captured it. But I have no idea where the rest of this came from. Thoughts?