TV Dreams

So today lonejaguar comments on her SVU dream, and that reminds me... I've been having some odd ones lately too.

• Weirdest was last night, when I fell asleep watching Harry Potter: Chamber of Secrets and dreamed I was in Hogwarts. There was no Harry, Hermione or Ron, but it was clearly Hogwarts and I was either a teacher or student.
  
  At one point one of the wall hangings animated, like portraits do in the movie. The wall hanging was some sort of three-D thing made out of wool, or something - you know, not quite embroidery? Shapes sort of tacked onto the cloth? Anyway. Why is this important? Because the wall hanging depicted an elderly couple, and they started to make out. And this is the part where I hope I just ate some bad mushrooms or something, because the couple making out horrified everybody in the dining room and it disturbs me to think theat my subconscious could make up something like this. Think Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus and you're pretty close. And they weren't just sharing an affectionate smooch - they were really going at it, wool tongues swirling away, and people started frantically waving their wands around trying to unravel them to make them cease and desist.
  
  I woke up, thank god.
  
  
• So yeah, that's one. Another was after I read a review from an e-friend who went to see Benjamin Bratt in a play in New York. Well I ended up dreaming that for some reason I was on a stage and somebody was telling me I had to be an understudy because an actress was sick. OK, no problem, I can stand and say a couple of lines - then I realized I was supposed to act with Bratt because his co-star was sick. And there's only two people in the play.
  
  "Dude, I can't act," I tried to explain, but Bratt (who, incidentally, didn't look anything like Bratt - I think he looked like some guy from my Torts class last year) very calmly told me there was no time to find anybody else, so I had to do it. And some stage hand was blocking my way off the stage.
  
  "Dude, I don't even know any of the lines," I said, and the lights went on. And then, thankfully, I woke up.
  
  
• And then there was my "Jack McCoy is my prof" dream, where Jack McCoy had retired and was now teaching law at my school, and I hadn't done my readings. Boy, was he pissed. I got some righteous ranting at me, telling me I would never be a good prosecutor if I couldn't be bothered to keep up with the work. I think my kids came in there somewhere too - think Jack guilting Jamie Ross for putting her daughter over her job, and you've got a pretty close approximation.
  
  Oh well - at least Jack did look like Jack, except he was wearing a cardigan. Weird.