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Obamas, transformers & a guitar

I’m not sure if it is something I’ve been eating or the stress over the economy, but my dreams have been strange.

Two nights ago, Jess and I were neighbors of the Obamas. In my dream, I was feeling very secure having all of the secret service next door. The thing about living next to the Obamas was that not only were there many Obamas, but any time we left the house or returned to it, they came out to greet us.

That was the status quo for the dream until i noticed that the president had a huge growth on the back of his head. For some reason, I kept on thinking it was a brain slug.

Tonight’s dreams weren’t so congruent. First, I was helping construct Transformer (more than meets the eye) in a giant lab. Then, I guess I became a transformer, but nothing cool like a jet or a tank. I was just a metallic cube.

As a Transformer (more than meets the eye), my transforming compatriots and I were having a very frank and heated discussion on the words to use to initiate one’s transformation. We were about to agree on my suggestion of “Energize!” when all of the other Transformers (more than meets the eye) suddenly took of flying and driving out the door. Me, in my cubeness, could only watch… because cubes aren’t meant to move, apparently.

After being ditched in my own dream, it suddenly switched over to me being at a party, no longer a cube nor metallic. I was sitting there playing a guitar, effectively going through every Nirvana song ever written. All of a sudden a woman came up, grabbed the guitar by the neck and yanked it away from me. Had she been John Belushi, she would have smashed it against the wall and then apologize, but she just walked off with it.