Out on a Limb

Was my mom friends with Shirley Maclaine years ago?

This was the question I kept asking myself during and after this dream I had Tuesday night into Wednesday morning. I am writing this Wednesday morning, trying to hold onto what remains of the already fleeting details.

It was some sort of event that seemed like part reunion, part celebrity promotional thing. A part of it took place in a house that was supposed to belong to a friend's family (David Michael Cohen's), although it wasn't. (His dad appeared in the dream.)

Shirley Maclaine was there and she greeted me warmly. She remarked on how I've grown and how great I look and referenced the times she spent with my family when I was younger. And I had a memory of those times. Vaguely.

Toward the end, when she was leaving, she slipped me a note that was so clear—I was in that strange half-dreaming / half-awake stage and I felt the urge to copy down the full contents of the note so that I could remember it. And I didn't. But I remember the end of the note, which said something to the effect of:

"I was really high on acid when I met your mother for the first time. Then I met all of you and I thought that this was a sort of interesting family, living in quite an affluent neighborhood, and I wanted to be a part of that for a while..."

Former Attack of the Show cohost Olivia Munn was also in the dream...

[Here are a few pictures of Olivia Munn.]

She was part of the same promotional/reunion event. She was familiar with my work somehow. Or at least the existence of my career.

She wore a white dress.

We exchanged some introductory pleasantries. She was friendly and funny—just as I'd always hoped she would be! For some reason, we started speaking with the Anjelah Johnson Vietnamese nail salon voice to each other.

When she left, she gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I noticed her lips were a little dry. Using the same nail salon voice, she said I was so talented. I told her she was so pretty. We both laughed. Both knowing, in our own ways, that this would probably be the last interaction we would ever have with one another.

And that's most of what I can remember of the dream. Aside from fading clips of imagery and scenes that no longer connect to a larger narrative. I'm not sure what it all means. I've been told that I over-analyze—and I've been making some effort to relax and just let forever be—but I also think that over-analyzing helps me with my writing.

It wasn't a bad dream. There were some positive reinforcements; it wasn't a dream where my brain just cooks up a bunch of scenarios where I beat myself up. When we were kids, my sister went through a phase where she was way into Shirley Maclaine. SM is a woman in the twilight of her career whereas OM is on the rise: career trajectory is heavily on my mind right now. (As if it ever isn't.)

Career. Family. Fame.

I've got a lot to do in the next two weeks.