The Gay Agenda is once again accepting submissions. If you have a dream which you'd like to have interpreted with a very definite bias, send it to Telpher@gmail.com, with the words "THE GAY AGENDA" in the subject field. 

Born That Way

Paula S. of Houston, Texas writes:

There has been an ordeal that I can’t remember but for some reason it feels like I am escaping something. I don’t know or can’t remember what it is. I am driving a Jeep, Sigourney Weaver is in the passenger seat. The weather is awful, the Jeep has the top off, it has been raining but quit, it is dark but there is some light, the road is narrow on a mountain side, there is a steep drop off on the driver’s side, many feet down. The windshield of the Jeep is missing. The headlights don’t work. It is tense. We need to get off the mountain but it is difficult to see. Sigourney takes over the driving, I crawl out to the front bumper of the Jeep to see the road better and let Sigourney know if I see debris or potholes or limbs. The wind is picking up, it is getting really tense, then suddenly we are at the bottom of the mountain and we look out to the horizon. The view is an endless, still sea. The are hundreds of womens’ arms sticking up out of the sea, palms of the right hand only facing us. No bodies, no heads, just single right arms and hands. The sun is slowly coming up. I wake up.

The ordeal you're escaping from is heterosexuality, and it's no accident that Sigourney Weaver is in the car, and eventually takes the wheel. Do you have any idea how many baby dykes realized they were baby dykes on account of Ellen Ripley kicking ass, outliving every man around her, and generally looking great in tighty-whities and a tank top? 

That dim, narrow road you're making your way down? That's no road - it's a vaginal canal, which is not only pretty damned significant, in terms of lesbian sexuality, but it's the place where we all got our start. This dream is about rebirth - which can be scary and confusing but, ultimately opens us up to opportunities. You stepping out of the Jeep to make sure there are no potholes or debris, and the fact that you're in an open vehicle with no windshield is your subconscious telling that nothing will stand in your way, as you flee from the horrors of a heteronormative society to a vast and tranquil Sapphic sea. And that sea? It's full of women showing your their right palms. Did you know that, in palmistry, the left palm of a woman signifies what she's accumulated or constructed, while the right palm of a woman signifies what she was born with? Heed the siren call and jump in, Paula - the queer water's just fine and, really, you know you were born that way. 

As for the heterosexual nightmare this dream has you leaving behind? I say you nuke the entire thing from orbit. It's the only way to be sure. 

All The King's Horses

Julia A, of Brooklyn, NY writes:

I never remember my dreams but last night : when I woke up there was a full scale party already going on in my apt. I tried to quickly make my way to the shower in my pajamas with my hair standing on end .When I muscled my way into the bathroom ( my dream tub is clawfoot BTW and my dream bathroom is completely renovated and light and airy. ) there were several people congregating there. And I had to ask them to leave. Someone who looked distinctly like A cross between John Lithgow playing Winston Churchill and Humpty Dumpty was huddled pensively in my tub and I had to offer my hand to help him climb out , which he did very very cautiously trying not to fall ...

Go home, guys! The heterosexual soiree's over! Julia's ready for a spiritual - and sexual - cleanse, and that's not just regular, old bathwater. Calgon cannot always take you away. In Julia's dream, the most fragile part of herself is bathing in TRUTH, and emerging as if a brand, new baby, breaking free of the amniotic sack. 

Winston Churchill vaguely appears in this dream because, in life, Churchill said, "The truth is incontrovertible. Malice may attack it, ignorance may deride it, but in the end, there it is." He was right. Ultimately, there is no escaping the truth, and Julia's truth is that she's gay. 

Coming out is a private, fragile business, but Julia is right there, being her own best friend and protector, and making sure the way out into the gay light of day doesn't cause any cracks or fractures. 

A Tangled Web

Wendi Freeman, of Chicago Ill., who made a generous donation to the relief effort in Puerto Rico, writes:

Every night I like to go to sleep to guided meditation videos on youtube. Last night I picked one that was called "erotic lucid dreaming".

I dreamt I had to go to this small town for a friend's funeral. Somehow I got stuck there and had to take this terrible factory job. On my way home from work one night, I see this giant tarantula attacking a baby Godzilla.I manage to chase the spider away but the baby monster was bleeding too much and died in my arms. It was very upsetting! Neither lucid nor erotic!

This dream is all about the contrast between the security of being constrained and the risk involved in branching out to seek out what you truly desire. You find yourself traveling to a small town for a funeral, Wendi - a little death. Are you familiar with the term "la petite mort"? It's a French euphemism for sexual climax. Translated into English, it's "the little death." Orgasms are supposed to be good - I think we can all agree on that. Instead of feeling good, though, your little death leaves you feeling "stuck" and having to work at a "terrible factory job." The worst thing about factory jobs is that they're all about doing the same thing, day in, day out. There's no variety. Nobody loves a factory job, and nobody loves mediocre sex. All of this points to your dissatisfaction with your current sexual situation, the feeling that you're trapped in it, and your desire to branch out and try new things. 

Tarantulas are spiders. Amazing creatures, spiders. In a dream rife with imagery about being stuck and dissatisfied, this spider represents possibilities.  Spiders are incredibly versatile, and can adjust to a wide range of habitats. They're creators - have you ever looked at how beautiful a spider web actually is? In a dream which takes place in a small, seemingly hopeless town, in which you find yourself stuck, here's Ms. Arachnid - she's strong, resilient, and industrious. She's also sadly misunderstood: tarantulas are feared by many, but they're actually harmless to humans. Let's see...strong, resilient, industrious, misunderstood...? Who does all of this remind me of? Oh, yeah: LESBIANS. 

This dream is about being trapped in a heterosexual life, where even your orgasms are disappointing, and the mixture of enticement and fear you have for that which you so obviously crave: life as a lesbian. 

Baby Godzilla represents your desire to have children. Your effort to save it from the clutches of the spider represents the inner struggle you're clearly living with: if you pull yourself out of the trap of heterosexuality, and take the lesbian plunge, you will be killing any hope that exists of becoming a mother. This fear, however, is unfounded. It's 2017, and we've come a long way, baby: lesbians are becoming mothers in droves. You really CAN have it all. 

Leave that bleak, tiny town called Heteroville, and welcome to Dyketown. It's family-friendly, these days, and they're hiring at the food co-op.

Taking the Dive

Meaddows Ryan, of New York, who made a generous donation to the Puerto Rican relief effort, writes:

God I love the Gay Agenda. I had a dream! That I remembered! Here it is:

After 13 years clean and sober, I was on a major bender involving drinking, cocaine, and Quaaludes. I was barhopping to all these different dive places on some shady-as-fuck waterfront, and trying to get more drugs. I was in the company of a real-life friend of mine who is in fact a lesbian, and enjoying the feeling of having her escort me around, especially since she was extremely well connected, so we got the celebrity treatment wherever we went.

At one point we stopped at a movie theater that was outdoors. They would strap you into something that was like an electric chair, but it was actually your movie theater seat, and then they would catapult you through the air and you would land in a square slot where you were locked down until the end of the movie. I don't remember what the film was but I know it was something really corny from the 80s.

Finally we got more drugs - for some reason it was imperative that I get two and only two more Quaaludes - and we ended up at this other waterfront bar that was run by women and they had about half the outdoor bar/restaurant space set up for homeless people. The homeless people each had a small table to define their space, and they kept their treasures on them and also their meals, cocktails, whatever. It was a beautiful idea and an act of kindness on the part of the restaurant owner. I remember thinking "I wish I had a table like that" and then I woke up.

First off, Meaddows, congratulations on your sobriety! I'm sure this achievement is no small feat. Addiction is a terrible thing - something which, as you well know, people have to work hard at controlling for their entire lives. Interesting, then, that your dream equates spending time bar-hopping in the company of a lesbian, with addiction. 

The "major bender" you describe is a metaphor for another type of indulgence, and it's no accident that this "bender" is all wrapped up around a lesbian friend whose company affords you a sort of VIP status. You're suddenly SOMEBODY. That bender? It's lesbian sex, and it's presented to you in this particular package - "involving drinking, cocaine, and Quaaludes" - not because it's a dangerous and destructive force in your life, but because you subconsciously find the idea of sex with women to be downright intoxicating.    

The imagery you describe in the movie theater is very telling. First off, the movie theater is outdoors. This detail is all about exposure: both your fear of being on display and vulnerable, and the potential joy of being exposed - being OUT. There's a duality there, and it's for you to ultimately decide which side will win out: the side that equates the experience of being "outside" with being exposed and "locked down," or the side that can actually kick back and enjoy the movie. Do you want a drive-in movie, or a dive-in movie? The choice is yours.

Your dream ends on what I consider a very positive note which hints at future self-acceptance. It involves "more drugs" - normally a terrible thing for an addict but, again, we're not talking about actual cocaine and booze, but about indulgence in good, old fashioned dyking out. The "homeless" people you describe are others who, like you, have spent a lifetime not really belonging anywhere. In the real world, self-loathing, closeted homosexuals truly ARE homeless: they don't belong in the world of straight people, and they rage against accepting that there might well be space at the queer table for them. They reject their true nature in an effort to belong and fit in (have a home, as it were) in the straight world and, ironically, end up having no place, at all where they belong/fit in. Homeless, indeed. 

But your dream is about the END of homelessness for these folks and, ultimately, for yourself. It ends up in a utopian setting, where the homeless actually get to "define their space," and where "each had a small table ..and they kept their treasures on them..." This is your subconscious telling you that there is, indeed, a space at the table for you, ALL of you, including the treasure of your true sexual identity. You don't need to throw that away or hide it in order to find a place where you fit in. In fact, you need to embrace it and carry it with you, always, because you're emotionally and sexually HOMELESS without it. And, deep down, you know this about yourself. It's why you say "I wish I had a table like that." You're ready for dinner, and there's a seat waiting for you at the Sapphic table - the table where all your treasures are more than welcome.

You're at a crossroads, Meaddows, and I have one piece of wisdom for you: the alternative to being 'strapped into something like an electric chair,' is being strapped ON to something that's a lot more fun, and nowhere near as dangerous as drugs and alcohol. Cheers, queers!

Move Over, She's Driving

Julie Nussbaum, who made a generous donation to the relief effort in Puerto Rico, sends The Gay Agenda a two-parter:

First dream, Dan was in a car. He put it in reverse and then the car started to speed up like he was flooring it, going faster and faster until he woke up.

Second Dream. I was running through the forest and it was beautiful and green, but so hot. I looked down and was shocked to see luxurious, Elmo-red hair covering my legs and arms too. 

Julie - I'm assuming Dan is your partner/husband. The first dream is pretty self-explanatory: it reveals that you know, deep down, that sex with men is backwards, the wrong direction for you, something which is all about speed and chaos, over which you feel you have no control, and which ends abruptly, leaving you without joy. Dan driving the car symbolizes your belief that sex with men is all about men being in control, while women just sit back and let whatever happens happen. The fact that he goes "faster and faster" until he wakes up is a direct reference to the wham-bam-thank-you-man nature of heterosexual intercourse, which is all too often nothing more than some straight guy banging away, faster and faster, until he's done. This may be satisfying to the driver, but it doesn't do a hell of a lot for the passenger. It seems clear to me that you're not interested in hailing an Uber that's driving in the wrong direction, but in being a fully-fledged co-pilot on a sexual journey that moves forward at a speed with which you're comfortable. It's also obvious that having a man at the wheel just isn't cutting it: in fact, it ends up going the wrong way, being all about speed, not precision, and coming to a jarring, joyless end. In this scenario, his ride is over, but you haven't gotten anywhere. Heterosexual men are notorious for their reluctance to ask directions when they're lost. Take your next road trip with a woman: we love maps, we have no fear of asking for directions, and we're open to letting someone else take the wheel, sometimes. We also understand that making pit stops along the way is one of life's necessities, and that we'll get there when we get there. Lesbians know that getting there is half the trip.

Your second dream is about the freedom and satisfaction you anticipate if you dare act on your lesbionic impulses. You describe running through a forest. This forest represents a wondrous place you're eager to visit: the lesbian world. The entire landscape of Sapphism is new ("green") to you, but also incredibly attractive ("beautiful") and, let's face it, arousing as all hell ("so hot.") Dreams offer us a safe space in which to explore and take chances in ways we might not do in our waking hours. In this dream, you're exploring not just your sexuality (obviously gay, btw) but also your desire to break loose of patriarchal norms, even ones as basic as shaving your body hair. Your dykey, forest-running dream self isn't just letting her hair grow, but finding it luxurious - freedom of this kind can be luxurious, but only if you dare seize it during your waking hours, as well as in your dreams. 

Woman, you just came out as both a lesbian and a feminist. 

BTW, Elmo, of the luxurious hair, appreciates your support of the Puerto Rican relief effort. 

Meat Is Murder

Amy Timlin, of PA, who made a generous donation to the relief effort in Puerto Rico, writes:

I had a dream an old friend and I got together at Ruth's Chris and caught up after a long time. It was really quite lovely. We promised to keep in touch. When I got home, there was a salt shaker, two forks, a full sized dinner plate, three napkins and a menu inside my small purse. WTF? How did she do that? Like fucking Houdini. What does it mean?

This is so gay.

You dreamt about going to a great steak house with a female friend, but there's no mention of meat. If anything, your subconscious mind left its virtual visit to Ruth's Chris not only disinterested in beef, but amazed that a female has managed to fill your purse in a way it's never been full, before. The purse, of course, represents your vagina, which has suddenly received attention from an unexpected source. The loot your female friend has placed in the purse is also meaningful: The menu represents your subconscious belief that sex with a woman would offer you choices, as opposed to the pre-packaged, predictable TV dinner that sex with men has been. Salt is a seasoning used to keep food from tasting bland and boring. The salt which has been symbolically planted in your "purse," is much the same - it represents the fact that you know, in your heart, that sex with men is flavorless and dull, while sex with women offers that flavorful, salty zing you crave. The dinner plate is not just ANY dinner plate, but a "full-sized" dinner plate, from which you may truly feast, as opposed to the miniature, portion-controlled servings you've been settling for when having sex with men. Each of the two forks has its own meaning. The first is just an ordinary fork - it's your desire to explore intimacy with women saying to you, "There's a setting at the Sapphic table for you:dig in."  The second fork is a visual metaphor - and a pretty crappy bit of dreamworld wordplay, if I'm going to be completely honest - for the sexual fork in the road at which you find yourself. 

You compare the agility with which your female friend has carried out the feat of somehow capturing your purse and having her way with it, with the skill of Houdini. Houdini, if you recall, was an escape artist. This dream is about escaping from a life that offers small portions of bland, tasteless meat, in favor of something more nourishing and delicious. Whether or not you veer left at the fork in the road is up to you, but life is supposed to be a banquet, not an exercise in self-denial. 

You Like It Crunchy, Indeed

For this very special edition of The Gay Agenda, Peter Kadlec, of Montpelier, Vermont,  will serve as guest expert on the human subconscious, and interpret MY dream, for a change. It's a goody.


My dream:

Two nights ago, I dreamt I was on a date with a really beautiful woman. We were in her kitchen and I volunteered to cook dinner, instead of us going out for a meal.

In the dream, I was thinking, "This is nice. I can't remember the last time I liked a woman in this way."

And then I went to the fridge to get out ingredients for dinner.

I opened the freezer, and discovered it was full of cereal boxes. Corn Flakes, to be exact.

Boxes and boxes of corn flakes - just filling the entire freezer so that, when I opened the door, it was a wall of cereal boxes.  I asked the beautiful woman, "Why is your freezer full of cereal??."

She looked at me as if I were crazy, and answered, "Because I like my corn flakes crunchy, silly."

And then, in the dream, I thought to myself, "Oh, yeah, that's right. I ONLY ever like crazy women who do irrational things."

And then I woke up.


Peter's Interpretation

Sister, please. A woman you deeply crave is showing you a closeted deep-freeze full of Corn Flakes, each box of which prominently displays a strutting, crowing cock.

That crowing signals time to wake up and let this cereal out. Your superego's reaction is one of disappointment in the irrationality of this bland, banal, and nutritionally bankrupt lifestyle. However, a little exploration will reveal something that the majority of us already know: the sublime pleasure of stuffing down three or four bowls in one sitting. Admit it: you, too, like it crunchy.

This dream is about your recent genealogical investigation and the unseen family history on your father's side that you are unconsciously avoiding. That's right: you are a Protestant. Only WASPs would be stupid enough to store cereal in a freezer. Put down your cafe con leche and mofongo, and find yourself a nice corn-fed Midwestern girl who knows her way around a tuna casserole and a tin of Campbell's mushroom soup.

Ten Percent Bent

Julia Perce, of Woodstock, NY writes:

"I was concentrating REALLY hard on bending a fork. And this woman's toy poodle just would NOT SHUT THE FUCK UP. It felt like a stress dream."

The fork represents your sexuality, and I don't think you're trying to bend it so much as UNbend it. The toy poodle - a little ball of fur belonging to a woman - is clearly a representation of female genitalia, and she's fairly screaming out to you. Go ahead: focus all the energy you can muster on making that fork bend the way you wish it would, but there's no escaping the fact that the call of vagina is fairly ringing in your ears, diverting you from this fool's errand. You're gay, Julia, like an estimated ten percent of the population, and no amount of effort is going to change this. You can try, but you won't succeed. You can't de-gay yourself any more than you can bend flatware, so why even stress it, at all? Didn't anyone tell you Uri Geller was a fraudster?

Playing the Gay Card

Lisa Schamess, of Washington, D.C. writes:

"True fact: last night I dreamt you and I sat down to a meal and you drew stories for me on index cards and read them to me like I was your little sister <3. No chickens were harmed in the making of this dream."

Your dream takes place as the two of us are sitting down to a meal. This is a good sign. It signifies that the information and wisdom this dream is trying to impart is of a nourishing nature. It also points to the fact that you're hungry for some truth that eludes you during your waking hours.

In economics, an index is a statistical measure of change. The index cards in your dream, Lisa, represent change - change you desire or anticipate. Change, in and of itself could mean anything, but you've dreamt about a lesbian as the narrator or guide (the big sister to your little sister) of this change. It's interesting that you describe me in your dream as not writing stories, but drawing them. When I think about "drawing" a story, which seems more visual than word-based, I imagine creating a map. Your dream version of me isn't drawing on a sheet of paper, which would be appropriate for a map, though, but on cards. Index cards. And what are cards which use drawings to chart out change and map a person's future? Tarot cards. Let me be your sapphic gypsy sister, Lisa, and feed you a big old slice of truth about yourself for which you hunger: you're gay. You might not be acting very gay, right now, but a change is on the horizon. It's all in the cards.

Cry Fowl, And Let Loose the Seven Sisters

After a long hiatus, The Gay Agenda is back with two short-but-sweet dream interpretations. Send those dreams, and I'll do my best to tell you how gay you are.

Bernard B., of Boulder Colorado posts: 

"Dreamt of chicken. Woke up to no chicken. :( "

Beebs, do you even know the difference between a chicken and a rooster? Your dream is clearly about COCK. Imagine your disappointment to wake up from such a blissful, homoerotic dream, and find yourself still stuck living a heterosexual lie! Dude, you are totally gay. My advice to you is: avoid Chick Fil A. 

Tamara R.B.O., of  Stratham, New Hampshire, writes:

"I dreamt of Mother Theresa and waiting tables at a college dining hall."

First off, Tamara, I suggest you buy a copy of "Lesbian Nuns: Breaking The Silence." You think priests are the only ones who take vows of chastity to avoid outing themselves as queer? Everyone knows that "nun" is, as often as not, Catholic for "lesbian." Your dream is a clarion call - a call to service. While Mother Theresa was called upon to take care of lepers and starving children, though, your calling is of a more carnal nature. A dream about a college dining hall? From a New England girl like you? Higher education means one thing, when you're north of Yonkers: LESBIANS. 

Your dream indicates that you are not only gay, but a bottom in search of a top: like Mother Theresa, you yearn to serve, and serve humbly. Get yourself over to Northampton, and find yourself a butch top. Smith and Hampshire are teeming with them. 

Off With Its Head!

Tawny Segrestein, of Brooklyn, New York writes:

"I had a dream a bedbug bit me but it was big and long. I killed it and cut its head off. I had it in a piece of paper and looked up what it was in hopes it might not be one. When I threw it in the toilet another huge bedbug came off the paper to eat the dead one. Then a black snake came out of the toilet to eat them both.

Now I don't want to go in the bathroom."

Tawny, the bed bugs in your dream represent penises. Big and long and, really, just such a nuisance! At least that's true if you're a lesbian, which you obviously are. They creep up on you and, like bed bugs, invade your life and your living space. They suck the life out of you just as surely as bed bugs suck the blood from under your skin. Getting rid of bed bugs can be a big job. Getting rid of unwanted penis is no small order, either. 

Your dream is about how trapped and cornered you feel about living in a heterosexual patriarchy...just the way thousands of Brooklynites are trapped in bed-bug-infested apartments, with little or no recourse. Your killing of the first bed bug (cutting off its head, no less!) is your subconscious mind expressing your desire to cut sexual attention from males right off, at the source. 

The fact that there always seem to be more bed bugs in your dream scenario, and that they feast on one another is telling: you're not just dreaming about penises, you're dreaming about cannibalistic penises. Your deep-seated anger at all things male has manifested itself in the form of a dream in which you say, in effect, "Go fuck yourself" to everyone with XY chromosomes. 

You are one angry lesbian.

Karen Silkwood Was Murdered

Kristine Phoenix Artinian writes:

I was staying at a friend's house and I was running late for work. It was a GIANT house and I needed to shower, and I started it but then I went to lock the bathroom door. There wasn't just one door, but several because the bathroom was actually an insanely long corridor with the shower stall at one end. By the time I locked all the doors to the end and got back, my friend had turned off the shower and taken over that end of the bathroom. I hiked back to the other end, thinking I had seen a shower at that end as well, but when I got back down there I saw it was a lavish outdoor pool with lots and lots of people in and around it. All this took place while I was wrapped in a towel. At this point I was so late I just decided to go to work dirty. 

Kristine, the fact that your dream self is running late is an indication that you feel, in the grand scheme of things, you're running out of time. We're mortal beings, my friend, and time is finite. Like many people who reach middle age, you're at a crossroads, and this dream is presenting you with certain options that lay ahead of you: the one you choose will be pivotal in how the rest of your life plays out.

You've dreamt about about shame, self-loathing, and the multiple layers of protection you've built up to hide from the inescapable truth about yourself.  The GIANT house in your dream represents your psyche - so vast and complicated, cavernous, really. An easy place in which to get lost....especially when one harbors a GIANT secret and GIANT shame. In the dream, you find yourself in this big house, and feel you need a shower. This is because in your waking hours, when you look too deeply into yourself, you feel unclean. What you keep hidden away behind closed, psychic doors is that which you feel is filthy and unseemly, and you wish you could wash it away. The long bathroom you describe is the length of time you've already lived: your life to-date. It's been a long road getting to where you are today, and there are multiple locks and doors at the end that long span of time from that which you find unclean: your true sexual preference, which is that of a gay woman. Just as you've spent years (and lots of energy) locking the world away from your inner lesbian, your dream self takes the long walk to lock the multiple doors behind you. The good news is, this is ultimately a dream about you confronting this crossroads with friends-of-Dorothy on hand to lead you to the promised land. Whereas you've spent a lifetime locked away from the world, what you're clearly ready to do at this stage in life is shut the door on what's behind you and take not a Karen Silkwood shower to wash away the gay, but to enjoy a dip in a luxurious pool of Sapphic delights. You're ready to take the full muff dive, Kristine. Your nudity, except for a towel, illustrates how exposed you suddenly feel, now that you've subconsciously decided to embrace your inner lesbian. Be brave and go out into the world dirty, Gay Girl. If Meryl Streep had just hit it with Cher, like she should have, Silkwood would have been a completely different movie.

Truly, Madly, Deeply

Cappy Sue writes:

I was in a house with all kinds of people - some I knew and some I did not. We knew someone was killing people so, when we figured out who it was, we bashed him on the head. It was a guy who looked a lot like Alan Rickman. I am not sure if it was supposed to be him or not. But that was what was running through my head while I crammed his injured body into a giant microwave.

He was beating on the door to get out but in a effort to stop him I went ahead and cooked him. It was gross and he melted and bubbled something like gremlins being born. He then turned into a little girl in a floral dress that had no sleeves. 

When I was done cooking him I wrapped the remains up in a fleece blanket and took it outside and saw a park across the way. I sat it on the park bench and bought a balloon from one of those strolling vendors. No one seemed concerned I was carting around this melted glob of an Alan Rickman girl. I put the little balloon in the thing's hand and sat there for a few moments. Then I got up and went to buy a hot dog.
End of the dream. 

Cappy, this dream is telling you, via Alan Rickman, that relationships with men are truly, madly, deeply killing you, and that it's time for you to take serious action. Like Rickman's character in this charming movie, societal-imposed heterosexuality has moved from being a comfort, to being the ultimate guest-who's-overstayed-his-welcome. You do your best to get rid of Alan (who represents the hoards of men you've bedded down in an effort to prove your heterosexuality) but he's a stubborn bastard, and makes all kinds of noise, forcing you to take drastic measures. While it may seem as if you're torturing Rickman by turning on the microwave oven, what you're really doing is purging yourself of one reality and embracing another. An oven doubles as an incubator, and this dream is telling you that, only by killing the falsehood of heterosexuality will you ever be able to truly nurture your true nature: that of a woman who loves women.  The little girl Rickman turns into? That's you, sister, in all your babydyke glory, wearing signs of Spring and rebirth.

The end of your dream may seem odd and disturbing, but it's actually very positive. You obviously have some deep-seated fear about what kind of reception you'll get from the world if you finally embrace your queerdom. The fact that you're sitting on a park bench with Melted Alan Rickman and no one seems to give a damn? That's your subconscious telling you that, more and more, being gay is seen as no big deal. Don't worry what people will think. What about the hot dog, you ask? If you're afraid you'll miss that part of hetero sex, have no fear: lesbians can buy those things these days, and often do. 

Yup. Gay. 

Lesbian on the Halfshell

Gina T. of NJ writes:

So, last night I had a very brief sex dream. I was in a very gaudy hotel room with an old high school friend of mine. We never dated or anything. I didn't like him like that. But anyway, it was one of those moments of nothing said but understood we were gonna do it. He was in bed already, and I went to turn the light off. By the time I got into bed with him, he was ready to go and all over me. I said something along the lines of "can't we work up to it a little?" And his response was something along the lines of "well, you'll have to keep me excited then." When I finally gave him the okay, it was intense but brief. Like BRIEF. Then, I woke up. LOL And the weirdest thing was I could actually smell him in my dream. Not that he had bad odor, but he had a smell like everyone does. And I remember his. And I could smell it so vividly. So very odd.

How's that?

Gina, your dream is about you grappling with the myth that lesbians are frigid man-haters, and trying to reconcile your true sexual orientation with the genuine affection you feel towards males. You find yourself about to have intercourse with a man who you know in real life, and care about as a friend, but who you've never dated or had sexual feelings for. In the dream, he's very much into the idea of banging away, but you require coaxing because this is not where you're inclined to take this relationship.  There's nothing odd or unusual about someone agreeing to have sex with their partner when they're less than eager at that moment in time. In fact, most sexually active people do this from time to time to accommodate the sexual needs of a partner. So, having sex when you're not exactly in the mood, and having to "work up to it" are perfectly normal, once in a while. What's NOT normal - or emotionally healthy - is having sex when you don't want to, with someone you don't really want to knock boots with, EVER.  Sure, a person CAN do this, but "can" and "should" are two very different words. 

You're a lesbian, Gina, but you're confused because, like lots of lesbians,  you like men.  In fact, you can, when worked up to it and coaxed, even achieve brief moments of physical pleasure with them. Let me share a little secret with you: orgasms are a mechanical function of the human body. Most women can achieve intense orgasms with a Pocket Rocket, too, but no one wants to marry one. If you were hungry, would you choose a bowl full of unflavored gelatine, or a Filet Mignon and baked potato smothered in butter and sour cream from Peter Luger's?  There's a difference between filling your belly and satisfying your true desires.  Sometimes it's not a juicy bratwurst, but a plate of bearded oysters that hits the spot.

Listen to what your dream is saying: for you, anything more than friendship with men stinks to high hell. Because you're gay.

What A Long, Strange Trip It's Been

Amber S. of NYC writes:

I had a very long dream that seemed mostly that I had pack up and arrange other people's travel and luggage. Most of the dream involved organizing and finding items that needed to go in two very small bags for me and my traveling companion friend. But it turned out we also needed to transport other people's pets. And this included what seemed like a flock of doves and pigeons, which could be in a big cage with each other, and also another animal in it's own cage which I'm not sure was a rabbit or civet or something.

Virtually the entire dream involved mishaps with not being able to find things or rustle animals into containers. Although once it seemed like I was on a first class flight in what seemed like a movie theater and the bird cages were hanging from the ceiling, that seems like it was the trip "there" wherever there was because the whole setting was NYC. However the whole thing was not my trip, it seemed like it was my job or something. Most of the dream was trying to get ready for the trip "back" and this was why it was frustrating trying to find all my items and being burdened with all these exotic pets that weren't even mine. Eventually I was at my father and his family's house and that's where a lot of the luggage and birds were. Finally we have a short time left and the car is waiting and my dad is just really angry that we are late. I keep saying "these are not even my animals, this is not my fault" and I start imagining that maybe we will miss the flight and have more time to find everything for the next flight. I woke up as we were driving to the airport though my dad was not there.

Amber, this blog was started after I interpreted two of your dreams that fairly screamed, "Let me out of this prison of heterosexuality!!!"Yet, here you are, still living the life of a modern day Mary Tyler Moore - a happening straight girl, living on her own, tossing up her hat to a winter breeze, and waiting for Prince Charming to come along. Did you watch MTM as a kid? Prince Charming never came. And let's get one thing clear: Rhoda was ALWAYS the more interesting woman, anyhow. That caged bird isn't someone's pet, it's you, baby girl.

Your dream is all about the excess baggage you've been forced, by society, to carry around. And it's not even YOUR baggage! Why are you carrying around - and worrying about - other people's baggage? You talk about not knowing where you're headed, and it not even being your trip. Doesn't this tell you something?

Sometimes, you have to make a deliberate decision to set your own itinerary, and do things your own way, even if people think it's nutty. So, go ahead and miss that flight: there's always another.  Better yet, choose another way to travel, entirely. While others like a plane, you might be better off taking Amtrak. Trust me: the scenery is better and the seats are roomier.

Taking everyone else's trip, and carrying other people's stuff around hasn't served you well.  If you and your nameless/faceless travel companion are ever going to get anywhere, you need to ditch all the stuff that other people think is important, fill an Eddie Bauer backpack with some chinos, a flannel shirt or two, and an extra pair of Keen walking shoes, and be on your way. Even the TSA doesn't like it when you let someone else fiddle with your luggage. You're a lesbian, Amber, and PACKING is one thing lesbians do better than anyone else.

Greek To Me

Keara G. writes:

I'm with my family, and we are floating on a raft in the middle of the ocean. It's nighttime. I look up and the evening sky is AMAZING like I've never seen before in my life. Every constellation is before me at one time, made up of thousands of sparkling stars. Orion! Scorpio! Taurus! The Seven Sisters! Aquarius! Cassiopeia! Pegasus! Wait a second! Pegasus doesn't have a horn! A gleaming horn! That's not a horse! That's a UNICORN! Holy shit! I look around shouting for everyone to look! Look! But I'm alone. I need to get back but can't see shoreline, so I look for the North Star, find it, and swim in the opposite direction. I swim and swim and then finally see the shore. I head for it but have to swim through some serious muck and mire to get there. I feel the ground under my feet and crawl out of the ocean, dirty and covered with mud. I look up, and gaze with wonder at the stars above.

This dream is about the those parts of life that we share collectively with others, as opposed to those parts which are very personal, and about wanting to be like everyone else when, in fact you're not.

You're on an open sea with your family, experiencing the ocean and the night sky. This represents your belief system - and even your hope - that you see things just the way other people do, and experience them in the same way.  But, of course, you DO see things differently. In your mind's eye, the constellation of Pegasus isn't a winged horse, at all, but a unicorn. I'm sure you know that Medieval legend dictates a unicorn (a mythological creature, itself) can only be hunted and captured by a virgin - someone pure of body and mind. Yet, here you are, a married mom who has spotted the elusive creature. What does it mean? It means that you know, in your heart of hearts, that you're really a virgin where it counts, because you have never given in to your true desire: sex with women. 

It's no accident your dream takes place at sea: in life, you have no desire to rock the proverbial boat. What you find, though, is that you're not on a sea-worthy ship, but a raft. Who is ever on a raft on the expansive ocean, but someone who is lost at sea? Your dream is screaming at you that your life as a heterosexual is a virtual Andrea Doria, and that you've reached a point where it's sink or swim.  In other words, this shit is killing you, girl. Luckily, your innate desire to survive, and even to thrive, reminds you that there's a little Diana Nyad inside of all of us, when need be. It's not an easy journey, and finding your way in the dark, murky waters of coming out may seem insurmountable, but the stars are there to guide you. And look at your dream: you not only reach the dry land of Lesbos, but you discover the stars are still there for you to gaze up at and admire.

Swim for your life, girl....your big, old lesbian life. There's dry land once you get there. In fact, there's wall-to-wall carpeting.  And don't be too hard on yourself for taking this long to find out you're actually gay: have you ever really looked at those constellations? They're just crazy, random stars that some Ancient Greek who'd hit the Ouzo pipe once too often decided to assign names and characters to, without real rhyme or reason. Just the way the world decided you were a straight chick, without ever asking you if this was so.  Making heads or tales of that crap ain't easy.

Call the Genius Bar

I dreamt that I agreed, as part of my current contract with a website client, to arrange the ordering and shipping of thirty million Dell laptops. Am I....you know? 
 David R. 

David, in your dream, you've agreed to comply and do something completely unreasonable, at the request of someone whose favor and approval you deeply desire.  The nature of the task you've agreed to, and the enormity of it, represent the enormity of your ongoing efforts to please your family and the wider society, who have placed unreasonable expectations on you. The dream version of you has, in effect, agreed to do way more than you'd signed on for when you agreed to this contract with this client. This mirrors your waking life, where you find yourself having meaningless sex with women night after night after night, all in an effort to be the people-pleaser you wish to be. Have you had distasteful, unsatisfying sex with 30 Million women? No but, to a man who is homosexual, any sex with a woman is too much sex. I'm sure it FEELS like it's been 30 million women.

Your dream is telling you how preposterous it is to continue living a life full of random, meaningless, joyless sex with women. It's time to wake up to the fact that you're an Apple guy who's being bombarded by PCs. In other words: GAY.

Yeah, but he's my FIRST cousin

Stella Folk sent the following via email:

I've been having recurring dreams in which I forget that I have a boyfriend and date other men. Twice these other men have been my own cousins. When I remember that I'm already with someone, I feel incredibly guilty and decide I need to break up with the extra guy. Except when it's a cousin, then I just realize that's not done and get squicked out. What do these dreams mean?

You're reached a point in your relationship with a man where you've realized, subconsciously, that you're not getting what you actually want. You dream about having a lapse of memory and ending up being intimate with others and, not just random others, but your own cousins. While your cousins are male, what they represent is a taboo. In most Western countries, romantic/sexual relations between cousins is frowned upon. We don't have sex with our brothers or cousins, because it's incest: they're our kin. They're our own kind. This is the same taboo that exists around same-sex relationships: some people think a woman shouldn't be intimate with other women because there's this idea that human beings should not fall in love with or have sex with or even be attracted to their own gender, or their own kind.

In your dream, it's convenient that you forget your boyfriend : this allows you to pursue relationships that appeal to you. Your cousins represent women - either specific women or women in general (that's for you to determine) and this dream is about the fact that you feel a sense of loyalty and obligation to your current boyfriend, even though what you'd really like to pursue is intimacy with your own kind: women. That you're "squicked out" by the idea of intimacy with your male cousins is representational of the fact that, while you're clearly attracted to women, there's still a part of you that thinks lezzing out is icky. A lot of people take a while to get over the icky factor. Social taboos can be very difficult to move past, but it's worth the effort. Believe me - lesbians don't have cooties. And get used to it, because you are one.

Tastes Just Like Chicken

Kristine P.A., of Los Angeles, CA. writes:

I dreamed I was at work - not my work, but some weird place that became a sushi restaurant. Ellen DeGeneres was there eating. She was super, super slouchy in her seat and her eyes were closed. I thought she had left, didn't see her, and reached right over her to clear her place. I grabbed something half eaten, I couldn't tell if it was tuna or chicken, and right then noticed she was still there. I started to apologize profusely and she just looked at me with her eyes half closed and wouldn't really say anything to me. She didn't really sit up properly either.  In RL, I've been told a few times that I sound like her. She didn't seem to notice. I thought "there goes any chances of being her voice double."

This is about your hidden desire to taste forbidden fruit. Your dream starts out supposedly at your work place, but it's not REALLY your workplace - a feeling we're all familiar with, when it comes to dreaming. The language you use to describe it is important: you describe the setting as a "weird place that became a sushi restaurant." In your dream state, you're in a place that you think is yours, but which is actually odd and foreign to you: new territory. A sushi restaurant. Need I say more? Your subconscious is fairly screaming "I WANT VAGINA BUT I'M NOT GETTING ANY!!!"

You say that you've been told you sound like Ellen Degeneres. Having spoken to you, I can confirm this. You write, also, about being her voice double. Your subconscious mind is presenting Ellen Degeneres, America's Lesbian Sweetheart, as your alternate identity. The theory of parallel universes describes how alternate realities exist. Anyone who's watched Star Trek can tell you that our alt universe doppelgangers are, in many ways, our polar opposites. But what happens when a person meets her own alt universe lesbian double and decides she'd like to trade lives? 

In your dream, you're not too proud to pick at Ellen Degeneres' leftovers. Eating a lesbian's leftover sushi? Does that even need an interpretation? Although you identify as a heterosexual woman, you're drawn to the ultimate Celesbian and you want the life that she has.

For her part, Dream Ellen is indifferent, bored, even sleepy around you. She doesn't even bother to sit up properly in your presence.  She doesn't see you in any way as a threat, and her very attitude makes you doubt yourself further.

This dream illustrates your burning desire to have sex with women,  the mountain of self-doubt that keeps you from actually lezzing out, and your fear that you've missed the boat.  My advice: don't try to bang Portia de Rossi and I don't think Ellen Degeneres will give you much trouble.