Thursday, June 2, 2011
a weird dream
To any guys reading this blog... this might not be for you. You may find it a bit odd or even disturbing, but it was such a fabulously random dream that I wanted to record it here anyway. (And knowing human nature, I'm afraid I may have just sparked your curiosity... you just can't win, can you?)
So, this morning as I was getting ready for the day, I had a flashback and remembered my dream from last night, which actually only ended when I got myself up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.
In the dream I was in some community-living setting (this was indeed a lovely dream for a person living out of a hotel room for months on end) and in the compound, there was a beauty salon. I think there were actually two beauty salons rolled into one. One of the wings was super-duper posh and far more expensive than I could afford, for any of their services! The other was sketchy-cheap, and I knew this because they only offered cold-sugar hair removal, not hygienic hot waxing. I wasn't going for this either - in the past year I've been cajoled into sugar waxing twice and regretted it both times. Ouch.
And then, on the edge of the salon, I discovered that they had some products for sale, but because it was communal living, I didn't have to pay for the products. As I write this here I realise that that's completely incongruous: if I didn't have to pay for those I probably didn't have to pay for the expensive salon either. But then the dream wouldn't make any sense. Not that it does anyway.
One of the products on offer was a gel wax - basically the same product as the hot wax used by the good salons, but softer, gel-like, so I could use it without needing to heat it up. So I took the tube off the shelf and opened it up. I started smearing the gel all over my legs, which were in desperate need of some hair removal, that is, they were so hairy I might have known it was a dream! I smeared that stuff all over on one of my legs, then I realised that I didn't have any paper strips for removing the wax. And if you know anything about waxing, without the paper, nothing good can come of the experience.
So I started walking around the compound, with one trouser leg rolled up exposing a sticky icky leg. I passed my housemates, which included a lot of elderly homey women sitting on stoops and children running around, and explored all the shelves of our home for paper strips for removing wax. At this point the compound was full of shelves of beauty products, and I didn't have too much trouble finding the strips. So I pulled those down and started to lay them out on my waxy legs, then I realised they already had cold wax on them - they were waxing strips that came with the wax. That would only make things worse. So I kept looking, and I kept finding pre-waxed strips in different colours: pink, blue, yellow wax on white paper. Meanwhile my leg was getting more and more gooey and uncomfortable.
And then I got myself awake enough to realise that my leg was intact and perfectly dry.
So, does anyone want to psychoanalyse that one for me??