Thursday, October 15, 2009
So the dream went like this: I’m in a large bedroom/sitting room with quite a few people coming and going, leaving gifts. There is an attendant in the room, a woman, whose job it seems to be to supervise me, and others, who are stopping by to visit. The door to the room is open. I step out onto an interior balcony, just outside the bedroom door. Indeed, below is a large room filled with people- it seems to be everyone I know - sitting on chairs, happily chatting as they wait for the wedding to begin. There are gifts and ribbons everywhere. I feel confused and unprepared. I go back inside and I find the attendant walking carefully behind an old woman who is on hands and knees, rolling a wine cork (with her nose) across the floor towards me. A young woman who loves me comes in and gives me a small box, a gift for me for later. I am flummoxed. I look down at myself and see that I am wearing a very formal black lace shirt and skirt. This does not seem, to me, to be wedding attire. I realize I really am not ready for this wedding. I begin to worry about whether I have time to change or put on make up and just then a man enters the room and walks to me. People seem happy to see him. He stands close to me, holding three greeting cards people have handed to him. He says something to me about some object. He’s very good-natured and says perhaps we can fill the object with gifts, which convinces me that we are indeed getting married, but the problem is I still don't know who the groom is because he has no face. But we hug and kiss and he leaves the room. I noticed he was wearing a short-sleeved summer shirt. I’m thoroughly convinced that I must change my clothes, out of my funereal black and into something summery and casual. I remember a long white cotton dress I bought some years ago but have never worn. The image of a heron adorns the front and it has long sleeves and a long skirt. [I actually do own this dress and have not ever worn it.] I wonder if it will seem odd if I put full make up on but decide I must at least put on some lipstick. As I began to do this in the bathroom in front of a purple sink and mirror, I wake up. I wrote the dream in my journal and came to the computer to see if perhaps eHarmony had sent me a new match. After all I'm not even dating anyone and have long been convinced that I don't even want to be married again. There'd been no new matches since I tightened my criteria recently, but this morning there were two in my e-mailbox. The first was a former federal agent whose passions are hunting, fishing and football. Match closed. The second was......okay this is hard to say because.......well......okay, it's Santa. Claus. No, I'm not kidding. It's Santa Claus. Seriously. Long white beard. Round belly. Yes. BUT, I am not closing this match because he actually seems like a very nice and articulate man. His passion is being Santa, obviously. In Seattle. Contrary to what we may think, he claims that this is not a seasonal position. He has plenty of work and finds, too, that children recognize him all year round. And he feels a responsibility not to disappoint those children. Plus he's halfway through a six volume set on Lincoln. I'm pretty sure Santa is not the man in my dream because that fellow was not round-y, though I obviously don't know if faceless-groom-guy has a beard or not. The e-sorting of men has slowed down a great deal but there are still interesting moments in eHarmony land. Not to mention what goes on in my mind just before I wake up. And now I can't get that old song out of my head, only I see the title this way: Santa? Baby!