A Green Ribbon For My Mayonnaise

We had entered our mayonnaise in a mayonnaise contest. (Yes, we had a mayonnaise - one we'd developed ourselves - and we were apparently so proud of it, we thought it worthy of entry into the world of competitive mayonnaising).

Our mayonnaise was "Chicken Mayonnaise," and contained chunks of real chicken in it. (Upon waking, I realize this would simply have made it chicken salad in a squeeze bottle, but we thought it was a unique new twist on traditional mayos).

There was a panel of six judges, and we scored very well with all six. We didn't win the contest, but the Wisconsin judge (because, of course, any mayonnaise competition worth its eggs has at least one Wisconsin judge) gave us top marks.

With our second place "Green" ribbon in hand, I remarked to my fellow Mayo-technicians that I thought the idea of Chicken-mayo was "NASTY" from the beginning, and that I, personally, "would never eat it." I then added that I would eat a guacamole mayo. "We should have invented Guacamayo," I told them.

I then posed the question, "If a helicopter was equipped with propellor blades that could split atoms, would Superman be able to stop them with his bare hands?"

The dream continued for several more minutes, but was simply me giggling endlessly at what a funny question I had asked.

Cereal

I keep dreaming about various types of cereal.
Captain Crunch, Count Chocula, Fruity Pebbles, Cookie Crisp, CoCo Puffs, Honey Comb...etc.
I go to the store and buy a box of each and then that's it.
I am not hungry in real life, for when I wake up, it's like 2 AM.
Hmmm? Can't figure it out.

Rats...

As usual, the little snippets I can recall from my dreams usually leave me a bit curious and confused. In this instance, not unlike Dante’s Sisyphus, dreamland shackled me with my own never ending ordeal of putting a rat back in its cage. I must admit the act of cramming a rodent into a box seems a far cry rolling a boulder uphill for all eternity. The only problem in my dream stemmed from the rat's cage being part of some weird six-story high-rise-style rat condo, but instead of six individual doors, there was just one really tall door that covered all six cages. So when I would open the door to replace the escaped convict, five other rats would come crawling out. I could never get all six back in to their cages. No matter how hard I tried or how much I juggled them, I always had one left. Finally, one of those weasely little fuckers bit me on the hand.

I woke up and realized I was sleeping on my arm funny, causing it to be numb from the shoulder down. As I lay in bed letting the circulation return, it occurred to me that I should have used some kind of gas to knock all the rats out, making them easy pickings (the idea of buying cages with individual doors was apparently beyond the realm of possibility to my drowsy brain). Then I decided that it probably wasn't healthy to be thinking about rats or about gassing them, and went back to a fitful sleep.

Sleepwriting

This is an experiment I tried very early Sunday morning. I'm not sure it was a success... but here is the result.

If you want to write down your dreams, a sure-fire way to do it, I think, would be to fall asleep while you're writing. That's what I am attempting to do right now.

I can already tell it's going to work, at least to some degree, because a large green apple just rolled up to me from across a checkerboard plain bearing a wide-gaping grin.

Of course, that was an escapee from the dreamworld coming to greet me while I still reside in the waking world. It's easy for me to continue to write while I am still awake, and therefore just as easy to document the creatures of the dreamworld that cross over while I am so near the border betwixt the two realms.

The trick will be to continue writing once I have crossed over. A trick, indeed, because writing demands consciousness, while sleep demands unconsciousness. I know it's possible, though. I don't know how many times I've fallen asleep, and continued to write, while trying to take notes in college - particularly economics. Economics is not interesting!

So off I go to dream and write. This is going to be a mess, because my eyes are closed. If there was such a thing as a telecopter, what would it do? I've got music. Hello.

I see purple tissue paper and green vapor. I wish I were Saturday and had more campgrounds. Whoa. I just jolted.

Wow, I just got so excited about something, my belly filled with butterflies. I wish I knew what I was so excited about. If I fell in the water, I would not be excited.

I just jogged into someone else's memory, kind of like hopping from blog to blog with the "next blog" button - only between minds.

I was nearly tricked into signing an affidavit for nacho cheese dip!