26 March 2011

The Time James Franco Pursued Me Romantically and Then I Decided Not to Watch an Anti-Semitic 50s Horror Movie

Last night I dreamt that James Franco, whom I really am kind of fascinated by since I first saw him in 1999 on Freaks and Geeks and then he disappeared and then he came back but now he looks more high than before, wanted to date me. We would meet in a small white room that made me think we were at church in one of the rooms they use for Sunday School or Institute. James Franco kept sidling up to me and saying flirty things, and I would always turn him down because I have a policy of not dating cocaine addicts. Once he stood very close to me and asked me out, and I looked way up at him and said, "Why do you even want to date me? I'm too short for you!" (I just checked IMDb, and James Franco is 5'10", and he was at least 6'2" at this point in the dream. My subconscious can't get everything right.) This was probably the first time I've actually been five-nothing in a dream. Usually I'm taller than I am in real life. Of course, if I ever dated a guy who wasn't too tall for me, he'd have a hormonal problem. No thank you.
Anyway, I couldn't understand why James Franco wanted to date me so badly when he could probably get much prettier B- or C-list actresses and models to date him. Maybe it was because I didn't want to date him. Once he got really close and started flattering me by telling me how smart and independent and different I am, and I almost agreed to a lunch date when this hot blonde Eastern European model named Sonya walked in the room. James Franco totally forgot I was there and, as if attracted by magnetism, stuck himself to Sonya for the rest of the night. I rolled my eyes and left. He apologized profusely the next time I saw him, but I wouldn't give him the time of day. He apologized more emphatically, and I started to soften up. Then I woke up, horrified.

It was just after four in the morning, and I had a raging migraine. I went downstairs and had some toast to quiet my stomach and some sort of ineffective analgesic and went back to bed.
Next I dreamed that I was in a university-type situation. Maria, who was in my TESOL classes last quarter, was there. We lived in a city which was a lot like London except there was no traffic and it was always either nighttime or twilight. We wanted to check out the movies playing in town, and it might have been because James Franco wanted to take me to the movies but I had to tell him which movie I wanted to see. I wanted to see something artistic, so Maria and I jumped in a London cab and went to the Barbizon (subconscious portmanteau of Barbican Centre and the Curzon Mayfair). It had a cinema called The Criterion Collection, which played old films. Maria and I stayed in the cab but used our eyes to unnaturally zoom in on the little poster giving detailed descriptions of the films playing that week. There were two. One seemed boring, but I remember every detail of the other film.

The title of the film on the poster was "The Cabbala (1921/1958; b/w; silent)". Since it had two dates, I was intrigued and read the description:
The first reel of this film was shot in 1921, but the production company, [a name I don't remember], folded, leaving the reel in a vault. In 1958 horror-movie producer [another name I don't remember] found the reel and decided to produce the rest of the film in the silent format using the original actors. Thus, after the first twenty minutes of the film, we see the title "37 years later", the time period in which the rest of the film occurs.

The picture on the informational poster showed a man in dark robes with his hands raised in front of a pit of fire. The flames created a distinct impression of two upward-facing horns. Anyway, I don't remember word-for-word, but the film's description went on to say that The Cabbala was a horror film about Satan-worshippers who conjure Satan and succeed in killing God the Father and Jesus Christ. They cannot kill the Holy Ghost, however, and are therefore unsuccessful as one member of the Godhead survived. According to the poster, the film was artistically interesting because it was shot silently in the era of sound and because the 1921 reel was so haphazardly cobbled in.

I decided not to see it because (a) the plot sounded creepy and (b) the fact that the film was called The Cabbala but was about Satan-worshippers made it sound vaguely anti-Semitic. And then I woke up.

02 March 2011

The Time I Was Evacuated from Russia


Last night I dreamt that I was involved in a love triangle, except I was not one of the principals. One of them was Zoey from How I Met Your Mother except she turned into Aishwarya Rai towards the end of the dream. She was married and had a three-year-old son, but my guyfriend was in love with her.

Meanwhile, we were all in Russia, but we were being evacuated because of a revolution or a restart of the Cold War or something very Spooks-y. Another friend and I spent a long time hiking up the hills of an empty parking lot at the Moscow Airport in the middle of the night. (So many prepositional phrases!) Sulfuric light only partially illuminated the asphalt and the tall brick industrial buildings beside us, letting shadows pool in the valleys of the uneven street. When we finally got to the terminal, we joined the masses of people sleeping on the floor like those people at the Tunisian-Libyan border, waiting for a plane or a ship.

Aishwarya Rai was there. Her son was whining because he was tired and hungry. She wore black. My guyfriend pointed out her swarthy husband—"She could never love him! He doesn't treat her like I would treat her." Guyfriend wanted to go over to the object of his desire and persuade her to go to the US with him rather than back to India with her husband. I tried to persuade my friend to let it go, and then I woke up.