Dreams

It's been a while. Too long, I'm sure... but honestly I couldn't really care.... Crazy amount of things have happened and honestly who the hell has time to write about things that are happening... as they are happening?! Yeah. Writers. shit. {note to self: cross "writing" off of "potential careers" list}

Dreams. I have vivid dreams.  Most recent one came a few days ago and may have been induced by excessive consumption of edamame. yummmmmm.

Zombies. Yes, I said it.  I had a dream about zombies.  How did I know they were zombies? Not because they had blood dripping out of their pasty-ass flesh eating lips.  No blood. No pasty lips. Not because they had their arms awkwardly held out in a completely useless and non-functional manner as they limped toward me with one leg dragging. No arms. No limpy leg. Not even grunts or heavy breathing. "What?! no blood, no grunts, no draggy leg?! How did she know??"

I stabbed her in the chest. With an Iron Chef-y kind of knife.  Right through her sunny yellow 50's print empire waisted halter dress in the chesty-heart region. In my terror at realizing I might be sticking a real person, I didn't even notice that the blade went smoothly into the chest as if sinking into a cushion without a drop of blood. I did notice the horrible red lipsticked smile as the zombie looked at her friend standing beside her.

What the hell am I talking about?

The zombies in my dream were 50's women done up with bright red lipstick, perfectly curled and sprayed rock-solid hair, and wide staring thick-mascaraed eyes in summer dresses. And they were made of silicone or something because when I pulled the knife out, the "skin" just moved back together leaving a barely-visible line that I even cut her. No blood. And the worst part?

"So then what do I do? She just tried to stab me!" A little twinge in her left eyebrow is the only sign of consternation to break her stepford smile.
Her friend giggles a bit with a white gloved hand that I'm sure is manicured and tipped. "Well, they all try to do something.  It's just so silly how some struggle as if it will work. So silly, really. And with a knife!"

At this point I am freakin' the fuck out.  Seriously.

But first [insert Tarantino soundtrack] this is not where the dream starts!

But second [cut Tarantino soundtrack] I can't remember what happened before so there is no chronological time shift in the story. {sigh}. [sound of Opportunity wasted].

So I'm freaking out. The knife is in my hand and my brain is whirring a million times faster than... ever. It's whirring so loudly I can't even hear myself think.  How do I kill these bitches?? They don't bleed, they don't feel pain.. are they even- ZOUNDS!!! THEY'RE ZOMBIES!!

(That's how I knew BTW. just like that. by that exact process of discovery.)

Then the friend zombie continues, "Honestly it's better when they don't run. Look at this one. What you want to do is grab her right now because you see how she is going into some kind of shock? She's just standing there. Most of them usually go through this and if you can just-"

I plunge the knife horizontally into this one's throat because:
a) reflex kicked in,
b) her voice was distracting my whirring brain sound,
c) I was terrified to realize that this one was teaching the other one how to kill me, and most importantly
d) don't talk about people like they're not here, bitch. It's rude.

Right?

Apparently, knife in throat = zombie asphyxiation. Sweeet! Her eyes open very wide and there is a gurgling sound. I screw up my face and try to hold the knife steady because even though at the time I have no idea what's happening, I know SOMETHING is happening and it's not good- for her! Score- Me: one ; Rude zombie biatch: zero. BWAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!

The she-thing then begins to grab at the knife but I press it down into her throat some more and as Thing 2 is going down, Thing 1 is just staring at her friend absently touching her chest where I had stabbed earlier... with that same frozen smile!! Crazy whore, I swear to god! At a point, Ting 2 finally re-dies and slides off my knife. I am in shock. I thought you had to cut off their heads? (yes I thought this in my dream. and yes i remember thinking this in my dream. non-believing skeptical bastard.)

Throat. Stab; cut off air. Rinse, lather, repeat. Got it. I turn and before anything else, I stab into Thing 1. Through the side of her neck though because she's still smile-looking at Thing 2. This time in a fit of dream-world inconsistency, blood gushes everywhere and she starts to take hold of the knife but all of blood is making it slippery for her to push it out. Her eyes glaze over as the breathing slows and BOOM.

ZOMBIE KILLAH IS BORN......

No. Lies. I continue to freak out after she drops and I remember running in a direction with the dreamer's omniscient knowledge that more zombies are coming after me. All with perfect hair and disgustingly toothy smiles.  Then there is a water slide involved.

End dream sequence.