silent night

I once applied for this job at the University for some professor in the arts psychology department. He was doing some long term study on dreams, a lot of psychoanalysis Freudian-type babble. Even though all I'd be doing was analyzing data and pencil pushing for some experimental research that wasn't remotely related to anything I studied in school (I hate arts psychology with a passion), I really wanted the job. Something about the mental processes that accompany REM sleep make me wonder if consciousness is simply a product of our mind - if when we sleep our random electrical impulses place us in a different world that is fabricated by us, and if so, is this world we inhabit a seemingly tangible form of those same processes. It's a lot of skepticism and speculation and probably parapsychology as well, but how cool would it be if an idea like the Matrix was something that could be done?

Anyways, I really wanted the job because I wanted to see how dreams are analyzed. I never understand what they represent, and I don't think anyone does, but if there's a way to find out I'd love to see what I'm thinking in the dark hours of the night. I had this dream last night that went like this:

***

The first thing I remember was me and Jonah Hill marching into an underground parking lot to jack someone's car. I look for a snazzy coupé, but of course Jonah yells at me: "Are you stupid? Alarm!" He finds a the older shoebox model of the Jeep Cherokee in white, pops it open like he's a professional at this, hotwires it and we gun off.

For some reason, I know our destination is the Fantasyland ballroom at West Edmonton Mall, the way you know in dreams that you're headed somewhere important to do something important because both of you are wearing tuxedos. Jonah's gunning it because we're late and we have to pick up Toyz, but we end up not doing that because he calls and says he'll meet us there.

We arrive at our destination and I'm paraded down the red carpet but I'm not talking to any of the paparazzi because suddenly I'm holding a violin case and I need to get inside because it's going to start soon. We walk in and Mr. Olson from my high school is giving a speech to the Board of Directors and it's really important. I walk in and they all look at me and then someone yells to use the side door and I do that. Mag suddenly appears and tells me I'm going on in a moment and that I'd better hurry up and practice.

In my head I'm freaking out because I'm supposed to play Saint-Saëns' Carnival of the Animals on violin for this crowd, but I've never played the violin before except in Mag's basement when I played scales and she tricked me into playing Mary Had a Little Lamb. I remember how to hold it at least, but then I realize that the bow I thought I was holding was actually the programme and I have to go grab the bow, but the bow has somehow gotten really large and won't come out of the case. People are clapping because Mr. Olson has just introduced me and they're just waiting for me to come out on stage and perform. I get the bow out and try to play a note but it keeps growing on me and the strings have become large filaments resembling Enokitake mushrooms. I can't play a note and the clapping has stopped and I can hear hushed tension and Mr. Olson is giving me a look to the wings like, "HURRY UP." I sit down, exasperated because I can't do anything and as I'm just beginning to lose all hope and I am filling with humiliation, someone in the crowd starts singing the first verse of Silent Night. People join in, and soon there's this huge chorus of Silent Night and Mr. Olson looks happy and I am suddenly filled with the fullest sense of relief.

Silent night, Holy night,
All is calm, all is bright...