Dream Work, Tension

I had such a vivid dream last night that I woke up completely disoriented and still am not quite sure where I am. I felt groggy, like someone had drugged me. Bits and pieces of the dream came back to me – as I made my incredibly annoying commute through the clogged-up Lincoln Tunnel. I thought the stopped-up traffic had to do with the convention, but apparently there was an accident in one of the tubes. Traffic re-routed, and so we were all stopped up. There were cops all over the place, and cars had been pulled over all along the route into the tunnel … but I was unaware of the real reason for all the traffic.

My mood of doom (as we were trapped in bumper-to-bumper traffic in the tunnel, the Hudson River above us) was not helped by the woman sitting in front of me, who sat there doing her rosary beads, and murmuring the Hail Mary in Spanish. Lady … come on now. Please. You’re freaking me out. Especially because – on the morning of September 11 – after I saw the 2nd tower explode from the causeway – that was my response (only sans rosary beads).

Once I actually got into the city, everything was fine. Cops were everywhere. Guys with machine guns. The streets blocked off, cops directing traffic, orange cones telling us all where to go. It wasn’t that big a deal.

I ran into the Protest Warriors, on 38th Street. I’ve heard of them, of course – but never met them. I was so excited, and ran over to them – “You guys are here?? I’ve read about you guys!” They were all hilarious, they hugged me, we talked for a bit. Laughing, sharing blog URLs, etc. Nice guys, all of them.

But I’m still shaking off that dream.

John Wayne was in it. I was in a sort of Private Benjamin situation, and John Wayne was playing the Eileen Brennan character. The intimidating drill sergeant. Or, he was like the part Viggo Mortensen played in GI Jane. John Wayne, with that voice, swaggering around in front of us recruits … and he had this odd sexiness, but he was also terrifying. A true Alpha Male. Then … somehow … the whole shivering group of us had to go plunging into the ocean waves, fully clothed. It was some kind of drill.

I have no idea why this dream has held onto me so strongly. I’m not a big dream-rememberer. I used to be, but I haven’t been for years. This one I could barely wake up from.

The humidity remains. Yuk. Sticky, sweaty, hazy.

Just looking forward to this week being over. But it sure was fun to laugh and chat up the Protest Warrior boys. Funny men. It made the streets of New York seem less empty, and it made the whole thing seem rather comical. The Hail-Mary lady’s anxious-ness receded in my time laughing with them.