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In Dreams: The Case of the Missing Sticky Stick

I've been thinking about starting a side blog just to record my dreams. This will have to do for now.

As many of you know, I have a bizarre, all too real dream life. Most of my dreams play out like high budget movies. Often, I wake up exhausted from taking part in them.

I think last night's short dream was - while pretty benign compared to most of my nightmare visions of death and destruction - the strangest, most unexplainable dream I've had in a while.

In the dream, I have this friend named Skippy. Skippy is an astronaut and is always in full astronaut gear, including helmet. He looks sort of like a grown up Buzz Lightyear, without the lasers and whatnot. The gear is all white.

So Skippy is getting ready to go on a shuttle mission. I drive him over to NASA. He gets into his spaceship, which is just parked in the middle of a grassy field and the door (which is lowered and doubling as a ramp) raises up behind him and closes.

I walk into the control room and a dozen men in white lab coats are running around, freaking out. They all look like Dr. Scratchensniff from Animaniacs. They surround me, all yelling at once. Something about a stick. A sticky stick. Finally, one of them speaks above the rest.

-Have you seen the messy stick?
-What? What messy stick?
-The one with the pancake batter on it! If he took it into the ship, we're doomed!
-I swear, no one made pancakes in my house this morning!
-No, no...Skippy got it from one of the morning shows he was on today. I think he tripped over the chef and somehow ended up with the stick.

There's a huge monitor and it's showing a picture of a white, plastic stick - about six inches long - covered with pancake batter.

-Oh...I see. Well, Skippy didn't have anything in his hands when he got on the shuttle.

The NASA guys look all worried and they're punching a million buttons and making phone calls. Outside, the shuttle is getting ready to lift off. We all run out to the field to watch it go up. There's a full length glass door on the side of the shuttle, and Skippy is standing there, waving and grinning. We all wave back. As the shuttle lifts off, Skippy turns from the window and walks away from us. When he lifts up his feet to sort of float away (I know, he should still have gravity at this point, but it's a dream, what do you expect?) we see the messy stick stuck to the bottom of Skippy's boot. The NASA guys all gasp. One says "It's the sticky stick!" I scream NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! as the shuttle flies farther and farther away from us.

And then I wake up. I don't know why having that pancake batter on board meant certain disaster, but it's obvious it did.

Which will teach you to never eat pancakes the morning of a shuttle mission. Don't say I never taught you anything.


I would enjoy reading such a dream blog: I am cognizant that I dream, but I have never actually recalled a dream in my life. From time to time (fairly seldom, in fact) I wake up and can say "Yes, I was dreaming about ...." and then I have no earthly clue what it was.

You and Lewis Carroll must have similar brain wave patterns. This dream puts "Beware the Jabberwock, my son" to shame.

Either that, or you've zoned in on the dirty dishes in my sink, among which is a white plastic spoon with pancake batter on it - dried, however, not sticky.


Pancake batter on board only means certain disaster for NASA.

Pancake batter contains double acting baking powder. This is nothing special, but combine low pressure in the Shuttle with heat from re-entry, and you get an unusually light and fluffy pancake.

This gets out, and soon Shuttle breakfast is the big thing. Waffles follow pancakes, and soon half the Shuttle mission is making breakfast for rich Earth-bound customers. This by itself does not destroy NASA, but then a fateful day comes.

Someone thinks about using the combination of low pressure and microgravity. They realize that the Shuttle could make a souffle. Of course, it would not just be any souffle, but The Best. Souffle. Ever. And let's face it, if human spaceflight is aimed primarily at producing haute cuisine, NASA is doomed.

Messy stick? Pancake batter? Baby batter? HELLO?!?! Paging Dr. Freud!

It means the kids can have ham and eggs at breakfast for the next few days. You've got pancake burnout.

And this is why I don't watch American Idol. :)

I'm with Alan. You're suffering from the astronomical stresses of motherhood expectations and need to take a break from thinking you have to be supermom and prepare the kids a hot breakfast everyday.

Go buy a supersize box of Lucky Charms.
Keep the toy for yourself.

That or you're feeling guilty about giving the kids Lucky Charms everyday and you think the world will end if you don't start living up to 'good mom' expectations.

Get over it and still keep the toy.

I'm sorry; this came to me about two thirds of the way through your dream, and won't go away: you're pregnant?

Me pregnant? That's umpossible.

However, I am PMS.

Wow. Now you're dreaming about me?


I recently had three root canals and three provisional (i.e. temporary) crowns put in my head, and I've been having problems with them either popping off or breaking.

Last night I dreamed that they all shattered in my mouth at the same time. Pretty easy to interpret THAT one.

Your dreams are WAAAAAY to complex for me, Michele. I won't even BEGIN to attempt an interpretation.

OK. I learned about ten minutes after posting that that I'm now a great-uncle! (Cameron, mother, father, grandfather (my brother), all doing well.)