Fucking dreams

Listening to: Christopher Cross + Michael McDonald - Ride Like the Wind

I've been having way too many dreams I can remember lately, and I don't like any of them.

The other day, the dream involved being on an airplane supposedly en route to Minneapolis. Except every time I looked out the window, I saw the ocean. Maybe 50 feet below. I other words, we were flying lower than most rescue helicopters. And there were leaping fish everywhere. No matter when I looked out the window, there was the ocean, and there were the tuna. And then the plane finally landed. In the middle of a horrifying thunderstorm. There were some very strange looking skyscrapers outside, glowing with pink and green neon. I didn't recognize them at all. Then the PA says "Welcome to Los Angeles International Airport."

What. The. Fuck.

Nevermind the fact that there is NO way to fly over ocean to get from eastern-US point A to southern California point B. There were way too many things wrong with this.

The last couple nights have involved ex-boyfriends. The relationships ended poorly, but I'm perfectly happy now. I'm with a guy I love more than anything, and then I get this weird bullshit.

Last night, the ex in question was Adam, I guy who I dated when I was about 15. We were both really immature, and though we've since made peace and talk as friends, I've never harbored anything remotely close to romantic feelings for him again. And now I get this stupid shit dream about how Steve and I have parted amicably so I can settle down with Adam?

WHAT THE FUCK?!?

(To Steve: It's a dream, honey. I don't like it any more than you do.)

I hate the ex-boyfriend dreams the most. I always wake up feeling angry, weird, and then angry again.

I wish I was chilling with Steve at the Luxor right now (he even got his own room, apparently rather unusual for these sorts of meetings) and not kicking myself for my idiotic subconscious.