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cimoreneLast week I dreamt that there was a big fancy dinner party at my parents' house consisting half of real extended family and half of fake extended family (my dreamself knew they were all my family, but they were just random characters and didn't resemble anyone I know), and my mom brought out a silver salver with the main dish and, with a flourish, removed the cover to reveal my great-grandfather's face, looking very natural, eyes closed as if in slumber. With the hair and bushy eyebrows and everything.
I said, "What are you doing? CANNIBALISM IS NOT OKAY!"
Nobody else in the room was concerned. A few pooh-poohed my "making a big deal out of it", but others were ignoring me in favor of discussing the work of whoever prepared it ("It's so lifelike, it must've taken a lot of work" and "Yes, they had to remove the skull and everything!").
"Is everybody crazy?" I said. "It doesn't even make sense thematically! Why now? Great-grandpa died years ago! Besides, it's not just morally wrong, it's GROSS!"
"I guess she doesn't want any then," laughed a fictional uncle, who I noticed had a vertical half of the face on his plate.
My dad unconcernedly passed the platter on to someone else and somebody started cutting the remaining half.
I ran out of the room and flung myself into my bedroom (in the configuration the house was in when I was about 12) and started furiously painting a small rococo dresser with a gold paint pen. My sister came to check on me on her way to her room to check Facebook (in the dream, my mom's study was her room), but didn't come in.
A few minutes later there was a knock on my door. I opened it, and my mom was there, encouraging me to come back to the table and eat, not get so upset and miss visiting with the family.
"Are you still eating it?!" I said.
My mom admitted that some people were and the uncle stepped out from behind her and tried to pat me on the shoulder with a jovial chuckle, and said something about people not having to agree about everything.
"YOU'RE NOT EVEN MY REAL UNCLE!" I yelled, and slammed the door in their faces.
Then I woke up tense as a rock, shaking faintly, and so upset I couldn't go back to sleep for an hour and a half.
My parents predict "At least it's not great-grandpa's face" entering the family phrasebook.
I said, "What are you doing? CANNIBALISM IS NOT OKAY!"
Nobody else in the room was concerned. A few pooh-poohed my "making a big deal out of it", but others were ignoring me in favor of discussing the work of whoever prepared it ("It's so lifelike, it must've taken a lot of work" and "Yes, they had to remove the skull and everything!").
"Is everybody crazy?" I said. "It doesn't even make sense thematically! Why now? Great-grandpa died years ago! Besides, it's not just morally wrong, it's GROSS!"
"I guess she doesn't want any then," laughed a fictional uncle, who I noticed had a vertical half of the face on his plate.
My dad unconcernedly passed the platter on to someone else and somebody started cutting the remaining half.
I ran out of the room and flung myself into my bedroom (in the configuration the house was in when I was about 12) and started furiously painting a small rococo dresser with a gold paint pen. My sister came to check on me on her way to her room to check Facebook (in the dream, my mom's study was her room), but didn't come in.
A few minutes later there was a knock on my door. I opened it, and my mom was there, encouraging me to come back to the table and eat, not get so upset and miss visiting with the family.
"Are you still eating it?!" I said.
My mom admitted that some people were and the uncle stepped out from behind her and tried to pat me on the shoulder with a jovial chuckle, and said something about people not having to agree about everything.
"YOU'RE NOT EVEN MY REAL UNCLE!" I yelled, and slammed the door in their faces.
Then I woke up tense as a rock, shaking faintly, and so upset I couldn't go back to sleep for an hour and a half.
My parents predict "At least it's not great-grandpa's face" entering the family phrasebook.
