When I first heard that Stephenie Meyer of “Twilight” fame claimed to have based her popular vampire novels on characters from her dreams, my first thought was “Bitch! Why didn’t *I* think of writing a book based on all the vampires that haunt MY dreams?”

… My second thought was “Hmm… The money would be nice — but would it be worth going down in history as the person who turned an entire generation of young women into “Twi-freaks?”

Maybe not…

Twilight is bad for you

Twilight is bad for you

Anyhoo, now that we’ve established my tendency to dream regularly about vampires, I thought I would share the vampire dream I had just the other night. It was the first one I’d had in AGES. (Hmm… maybe having kids does affect your libido.)

I remember very clearly what the vampire looked like: mid- to late-30s, with a grizzled, unshaven face and darkish hair with blond-frosted tips. Kind of George-Michaelish, I suppose. He was sitting in a park with his back against the tree playing guitar. I was cutting through the park on my way home from the store. Had a plastic bag full of groceries and everything.

The vampire guy beckoned me over and patted the ground next to him. On impulse (or vampiric suggestion???) I went over and joined him. Immediately I was able to see him through two different perspectives. As observer of the dream, I knew he was a vampire and was trying to urge myself to get the hell away as soon as possible. But as participant, I was oddly intrigued by this stranger, even though he had a stupid dye job. He was a pretty good guitar player, at least.

After chatting for a while, he suggested we go get a “bite” to eat. (“No!” my observer self was screaming. “Not another friggin’ vampire making stupidĀ  “bite” jokes!”) But my participant self agreed, oddly captivated by the intense way the vampire was observing me.

We went to a nearby cafeteria. While we were waiting for our order to be made, the woman behind the counter made a snide remark about the vampire’s frosted locks. He gripped the counter and leaned forward to forcefully berate her for saying something so unkind to a customer. That was when my participant self began to feel alarmed. “Whoa,” I thought. “Dude can’t take a joke.” I wondered whether maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to bring this stranger home with me, especially since he seemed to have some serious anger management issues.

It was only once he’d stepped away from the counter that I noticed the deep hand-shaped holes he’d left in the counter. He had been gripping the counter so hard that he’d actually melted it.

His hands, they only had four fingers.

… That was when I woke up.

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  1. lucid dream girl » I did it! I WBTB’d! (Kinda sorta) — August 17, 2009 @ 9:08 pm

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