"A newly-wed couple were stranded on a remote island three miles from the mainland when a giant bull seal climbed into their inflatable dinghy and refused to budge for four days." [Telegraph]
Dream date: Feb. 23, 2013
Dream: There’s a stage, lit in blue and slowly revolving above a multitude of smiling angels. There’s a piano, and I’m suddenly beside it. A song finds its way into my throat, and as I wail, I stare down at the angels’ faces. One of them beams up at me. She looks like Gwyneth Paltrow, but sleek and pale and small. Hi, Gwyneth! Diamonds glitter on my neck and my hand lifts itself, queen-like. Me, just a poor West London gal with a broken heart, waving and singing to a crowd of clamoring angels?
Analysis: “Adele, I think that was the Oscars.”
In 2008 I started a single topic Tumblr that never went anywhere. It was called I Dream of Britney, and the idea was that readers would submit their celebrity-laden fantasies and nightmares (no one ever posted but me, though). At that point, Tyra Banks was my subconscious’s most frequent famous guest star. Those dreams usually involved some sort of America’s Next Top Model scenario in which she was judging me and finding me insufficiently fierce and overly dumpy.
Though the Tumblr was named for Britney Spears (and she’s apparently a very common dreamscape fixture), I had never had my own dream about her until this past Saturday. [...]
F. would have gone into finance. In college, he would have taken German to add to his French, English, and Spanish, so he could go on to work for a European bank, probably Credit Suisse. He'd start on the trading desks but move to selling their services to other financial firms across Europe, which would allow him to travel more. Two of our friends from high school would crash on his couch when backpacking across Europe. The three of them would chat and smoke pot while he fiddled around on his newest €3,000 guitar as if everything were the same. When they came back to the US, they would [...]
I've been messing with Wet for a second now (see also: "No Lie," "Don't Wanna Be Your Girl") but I keep coming back to them; their music is simple and full of space, but also has this beautiful, dark-spangled, streetwise quality that expands each song upon repeat listening. I'm feeling a Rilo Kiley/Rhye vibe on this one, and if you like it, they just released a $4 EP.
“I have 11 brothers and sisters, and 26 nieces and nephews. Let’s hope everyone stays alive and keeps talking with each other." —Jon (bosom friend of the Hairpin) Cotner asks strangers on the street for their holiday wishes, with customarily sweet and sad and funny results.
Satya Doyle Byock usually explores readers' dreams on Back of the Brain. This response includes reflections from the dreamer herself.
Q: In my dream, I am walking through a concrete landscape holding hands with Chris Harrison, the host of The Bachelorette, as if he’s a father figure. He leads me to a warehouse space where a lot of men work. When I walk in, I see a big fish in a tank in the center of the room. One of the men is reminded to change the water in the tank when I look at it. When he does, I see that the fish has turned [...]
Dream date: One of those days you try and forget about.
Dream: I’m staring at myself. So many Mes. I guess it gets weird, waking up in a dream surrounded by yourself, but whatever. The Mes don’t care. They’re floating in clouds. Two of the clouds are shaped like feelings. I make eye contact with one young me, the kid with the 'fro pick who I think is dancing but dunno for sure because the people in my dreams are usually dancing. Check that pout. We talked but didn't use our mouths. He cried—but I've cried, I told him, and we were in the clouds so the water wouldn't even go [...]
Ta-Nehisi Coates is reading the SUPERB AND PERFECT The Forever War, by Joe Haldeman, for the very first time, which causes me to wriggle with envy. I would love to read it again for the first time, with any of these fabulous covers. For whatever reason, it's always sci-fi I feel this way about: Nova, or The Left Hand of Darkness, or Dangerous Visions.
Roger Ebert once said that he had a college professor who said he would give anything to read Romeo and Juliet again for the first time. Which struck me as a little odd, because, not to be a jerk, [...]
My mom always told me I could be anything I wanted as long as it didn’t involve taking my clothes off for money. Her dream had been to be an airline stewardess, but, as she often used to tell me, that dream died the day she confessed it to her own mother. My tough-loving grandmother had replied, “You’ll never be a stewardess. You’re too tall and too fat. You’re just too big for the plane!” “Too big for the plane,” she would repeat, over and over, with a wistful look in her eyes. “The thing I’m trying to say,” she would say to my young, bewildered face, “is you can [...]