Dreamer's Block

Damn it... really want to add to my blog but haven't been remembering my dreams in any sufficient detail for the last few nights.

I think I'll make myself some Mugwort tea tonight. I buy it every now and then from Neal's Yard (this herbalist shop in Covent garden where they stock loads of herbal remedies etc). Can't remember why I got it the first time - think I just liked the name "Mugwort" (sort of sounds magical...a bit like a mixture of Muggles and Hogwarts come to think of it).

Before I brewed my first cup I decided it was best to do some preliminary research - just to make sure I wasn't about to imbibe a deadly substance. Good thing I did really as, although it tastes great (slightly bitter yet strangely soothing) I discovered it can be toxic in large quantities. So, as with so many things in life, the law of "everything in moderation" again applies...

I hate that "law" - why is it that almost everything in life is bad for you in excess - wouldn't it be great if something's were better for you if you overdid them...Imagine if alcohol was only bad for you if you just drank one pint a day, but benefited your body if you had ten or more pints.

Anyway, turns out that Mugwort was renowned in folklore as a herb that could bestow prophetic dreams if drunk or placed beneath your pillow. Can't say I've ever definitely dreamed of the future but I've certainly has some weird, incredibly vivid "mugwort trips". So may try it out again tonight...

In the mean time hope you enjoy the photo - It's me, some fish, some coral and the red sea. I spent a week snorkelling around Sharm El Sheik last year. Was great fun but had "snorkel fever" for the following fortnight.

N.B Snorkel Fever isn't a real medical term, its just what I christened my condition...The main symptom was dizziness. It felt like the ground was bobbing up and down, mimicking the rhythm of the sea. Then there were the dreams - "wet dreams" if you will - of fish, fish and more fish. Such very vivid dreams. Big fish, little fish, red fish, silver fish - all darting to and fro in front of my eyes, swimming this way and that, eyeballing me with their huge, squishy eyes...

I began to wonder if I'd been condemned to a life-time haunted by fishy dreams; but thankfully the fever eventually subsided, my sense of balance returned and, thank cod (ho,ho), can't recall dreaming of fish since.

Melissa Spittle...a borderline nightmare

Yes Sir, I can boogie. But I need a certain song. I can boogie, boogie woogie - All night long.

Odd dream last night. I was up in my office when I got a call. A student was downstairs waiting to see me. I asked for their name, “Melissa Spittle” was the reply. I don't know any such person and I didn’t recognize the name.
I wondered downstairs, looked around the lobby for someone who might fit the description of a “Melissa”. There were various students milling about, none of whom I recognized. So I called out “Melissa Spittle?”.
“Yeah” snorted a middle aged woman lying down on the seats and obviously inebriated.

This woman was in a right state; eyes wildly rolling, saliva dribbling down her chin. Real mess. Her blouse was unbuttoned and her bra-less middle-aged breasts scurried in and out of view (I tried to avoid them). Her hair was greasy and unkempt and in one hand she clutched a bottle of air infused with the dregs of some dark and deadly wine. I tried to ignore her startling appearance and maintain a professional manner.

“How can I help you?” I politely enquired.
“Er…You can get me a Taxi, my love”

I duly obliged and, in what seemed like seconds, a black cab arrived. Then , as sometimes happens in dreams, for no logical reason I got into the taxi with her. Perhaps I had decided to make sure she got to her destination safely. Or maybe it was just a moment of madness. Anyway, we drove off; me sitting on one of those fold down seats, her lying on the back seat incoherently mumbling, slipping in and out of her stupor. I remember worrying that she might be sick, but thankfully this did not transpire.

At first we sped along and seemed to travel a great distance in a short time. It grew dark outside and I felt the taxi climbing a steep and winding slope. The journey, to wherever we were going, seemed to be taking an awfully long time and I began to worry..

"How will I get back?”… "How much is this going to cost?”… "I’ll be damned if I’m going to pay!”

Then it suddenly dawned on me that I had absolutely no idea where we were going. A paranoid panic started to set in. I began to feel like I’d somehow being duped. I tried to recollect whether or not Melissa Spittle had told the driver where to go, but I just couldn’t remember. At this point Ms Spittle seemed to remarkably sober up. She sat up and stared at me with a look of harsh disdain, dropping all attempt at pretence. So I bluntly confronted her –

"Where are you taking me?"

She replied with a wicked, malicious laugh. That sort of drunk-guffaw that really annoys you when your sober.

“Where are we going?”

Melissa Spittle smiled and then screamed “I’m taking you HOME” – as she said these words the car suddenly accelerated and I felt the taxi plunging into nothingness, and somehow I knew we’d driven straight off the edge of a cliff.

As the car plummeted into darkness Melissa Spittle just kept on cackling…

Then I woke up. It was 6.25am, still dark outside. I couldn’t get back to sleep.

Was bored at work (as usuasl) . So, out of curiosity, I typed the name “Melissa Spittle” into google. I wanted to see if anyone of that name really existed. Turns out there is (at least) one. Her name’s listed on this website: http://www.montva.com/departments/bos/reassessment/dl_files/reassessment_values_03_sn_sp.pdf

She lives at 1484 Oilwell Road in Montgomery County, USA.
I can’t help wondering if she has a penchant for red wine or if she had strange dreams last night…

Yes Sir, I can boogie,If you stay, you can’t go wrong. I can boogie, boogie woogie - All night long