Deb: I know that the most boring thing in the world is when people talk about their dreams. I hope we agree that I have acknowledged that and we can all move past our prejudices on that subject.
I have the same dream every year of my adult life in the months of November and December, and I had my first of the year last night. I dream that it is Christmas Eve day. We are just leaving our annual club sandwich and martini brunch with our friends and suddenly I realize that I have not shopped for anyone. I look at Colin in horror, heart pounding, and exclaim through tears that I have forgotten to shop. I explain to him that he will be getting nothing, my parents will be getting nothing, Luke will be getting nothing, and I am shaking with regret and panic.
In last night’s episode, Colin stayed calm (what else is new?) and he suggested splitting the list in half and hitting the mall until we were done. As dreams are wont to do, suddenly it is—not 2pm when our five-minute exchange began—but the more ever-pressing 5pm. That leaves us with an hour to do all we need to do, including filling stockings! My husband tells me in stoic tones that he doesn’t need anything and that I should not bother about his gifts, but of course that is out of the question. Even the dream question. The dream ends as I am riding up the elevator, pea green with envy at the purchase laden shoppers around me. The weird thing about this recurring nightmare before Christmas is that I always wake up feeling energized physically and spent emotionally.
It is fascinating to me that I have these dreams every year. I am always prepared for the holidays and I generally start early. At breakfast this morning, I started to examine this yearly r.e.m. ritual for its meaning. Never fear, I will not bore you with my back and forthings, just my conclusions. And for the record they are inconclusive, these conclusions. So I guess they are not conclusions at all. Let’s just call them possibles.
Here is my possible. My Mom did not have money growing up. They were, as I have said before, the happy recipients of The Toronto Star Santa Fund, which delivered a package of Christmas in a box to each child in her family every year. Although extremely grateful for their generosity and the city’s generosity in donating to the fund, I know she was determined to change it up for her children. As a result, Christmas was the magical store window Christmas for us. My Mom did it up, let me tell you. And she fretted and plotted and ran around town like a lunatic to get everything she could afford, to place us in a postcard Christmas morning. Without even trying, she has instilled this in me. And although I have come strides in my life regards obsessing around the perfect Christmas, my subconscious is clearly festooned with boxes and bows and panic!
Shopped my Misstletush off today. Yes I did.
|Although I do like kind of panicky there, don't I? And P.S. Cutest skirt ever. It was felt, lined with silk. The doors of the circus carts would open to reveal different lovely animals. |
LOVED THAT SKIRT!
Barbara: First off, I have to say that I actually have NOTHING against people describing their dreams. Instead, I find it quite fascinating. It’s so up my alley in terms of conjecture and psychology and fantasy and unlimited possibility. That said, I will acknowledge that I may be in the minority!
As for your dream—knowing how brilliant you are at the whole Christmas thing, how prepared and thorough you are, it amazed me that this would be an Achilles heel of yours. But, of course, don’t we all have issues around those things that mean (for whatever reason) the most to us?
Me? It’s the classic “actor’s nightmare” where I’m performing and can’t remember any of the lines. The truth of that nightmare is that it actually feels like it could be a possibility! I so feel like I would struggle with lines if I were to do a play again. With you, it just doesn’t seem possible that you would ever EVER forget to shop for Christmas. Anyway, I know that’s not the point of our dreams. I know there is deep voodoo magic embroiled inside them. What I wonder is: is there any way we can stop the cycle???
But, more importantly, congrats on already chipping away at the Christmas list, Deb!