Dream Diary: Babies, Hit Men, Hair Cuts! Oh my!

This entire week I’ve really struggled to come up with a decent post. I hate forcing a post because they never turn out as effective or entertaining as I’d like them to be and just sound blah, ya know? I forced myself to be patient because all it takes is one moment to stir up an entire dialogue in my head to create a post. My brain is like a spunge and while I enjoy writing this blog it consumes my thoughts all the time. Everything I hear, I read, or I watch I try to incorporate into a post and have notebooks and phone memos all over the place to document quotes I like, songs I hear, or clips to go back and watch because it just might be perfect for an upcoming post! Good grief! The pieces finally came together this morning. I woke up having had the same dream two nights in a row and judging by the content of the dream, my interpretation of it seems to sum up my life quite well.

So my dream begins with little Asian babies running around my house in New Jersey. I’m chasing them around and finally catch one. I’m not sure what happens to the others after I catch him but this little Asian baby has long black hair that I cut into a mohawk. I also give him a toothbrush and clean clothes.

My Asian baby didn’t look like the Ally McBeal Ugachaka baby
but I can’t help but picture it dancing around my house every time I edit this post

Suddenly I’m standing in the doorway to my garage and I see two thirty something Asian men in dirty clothes with long black hair. In conversation with my mother, we realize that our house is now known as the house that cuts the long hair; which is apparently a necessary ritual for Asian men. My mom and I fear these men and before I can fully close the garage door, they slip under the garage door and run into my house. I chase them upstairs but need help.

[Enter two hot, strong, hit men looking guys]

One hit man immediately takes down the first Asian man and I have to ask the other one to take care of the other intruder. After they are removed from my house, the two hot hit men hang out for a bit while my mom and I put the original Asian baby to sleep.

Ooookaaaaay so if it wasn’t known already, I’m a lunatic. Asian babies, hot hit men, hair cuts? Wtf.

Interpretation: Well last week before I turned in half of my thesis I was having dreams that I was being chased aka I was having anxiety over my workload. Now this week, I am the one doing the chasing. As I see it, and as unofficial dream interpreting websites see it, when you are the person doing the chasing it can be an indication of chasing dreams, ambitions, and wanting more from life. Obviously this is an expression of my readiness to graduate and move on from college. The hair cut thing could be interpreted in a simple way or in a deeper way. Simply put, I’m in desperate need of a hair cut. These locks are weighing me down. On a deeper note, cleaning up the Asian baby and cutting his hair could be a symbol of re-birth and starting fresh. I’m finally back on a healthier eating, exercising, and sleeping schedule this week…starting fresh. I’m also going to start a whole new life this summer…re-birth. The two Asian men desperately want their hair cut and to be given fresh clothes and risk their lives in the process. Maybe the hit men stopping them from getting what they want is my fear that I won’t get what I want.

Speaking of the hit men, those hot and steamy hit men.

Oh the directions I could take this. Well, to start I could interpret them as part of my man struggle. Hit men in movies, while they do often kill, they are stereotypically loyal and strong protectors of whoever they are working for……and of course, they’re always hot. I want one! One that is all kinds of loyal and passionate, ya know, that fight to the death kinda person. Then there is the thought that maybe because they put an end to the hopes and dreams of the Asian men (and sometimes in movies, they turn out to be traitors) that they are actually….hmm no, I’m going to stop there and leave it as they are hot and hunky hit men who are on my side.

And what the feck is up with these Asian babies? The other interpretation of being the person doing the chasing is that I’ve fallen behind and need to catch up. Honestly this is so silly but it’s the only thing I can think of to explain the Asians: I’m supposed to be reading Battle Royale for my pulp fiction English class and I’m VERY behind on the readings. If you don’t know, Battle Royale is a gory novel by Koushun Takami (and a movie) about a group of Japanese teenagers who are captured by the government and forced to kill each other. So yeah, there’s that…I’m really hoping that is the reason for the Asian thing.

This dream might lead one to believe that I have something against Georgetown but despite the stress of school work, the construction that wakes me up every g.d. morning, and the overwhelming feeling that I’m so ready to be done, I can’t help but love this place. It’s that time of year on campus when I start to fall in love. The warm weather, the crowds of people on the front lawn, and the tour groups of prospective students gives me that warm and fuzzy feeling.

I had to drop off some documents this morning and got a little lost in the medical school. The inside of the med school building looks like a high school with dull blue metal lockers and dark blue and grey bulldogs painted on the walls and as I walked through the halls I questioned why anyone would want to come to a med school that looked like a dingy high school. [Side note: this is an assumption based on ONE building]. But then it hit me why: We are Georgetown. Plain and simple. We’re all so friggen smart. Yes, I said “we” because I often forget that I’m pretty smart. I’m so used to comparing myself to the brainiacs at Oak Knoll and the Harvard rejects here that I underestimate myself. It’s not until I’m out in the world, at various jobs, or on some dates that I realize that I have pretty intelligent noggin.

Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of fantastic schools out there and I know for a fact that some of my good friends in other places are smarter than I am but We are Georgetown and we rock. I’m warning my followers that in the next couple of weeks there will be various posts that will undoubtedly be in tribute to GU, DC, and the various aspects of my life here that make it awesome. And by awesome I mean better than wherever you are 😉 I mean, seriously, I go to school with people who will change the world and apparently I’m here because someone along the way had a feeling that I’ll be able to change it too. I don’t care if this was your reach school, your safety, or whatever, if you’re here you’re doing the work and you’re a changing the world kinda smarty pants person!

So status update: I’m ready to move on and find out what it is I’m going to do with my life, I need a hair cut, babies with mohawks are adorable, I need to read Battle Royale so I can stop dreaming about chasing Asians, I love Georgetown and hot men haunt my dreams. Pretty much sums it up, no?

By the way, BAM! Mumford & Sons tickets for June 9th at the Merriweather Post Pavilion. Purchased. See what I mean when I say things just work out for me?

Go ahead and say it: “Mozel, Sassarella, mozel!”
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About sasssays

The trials, the tribulations, and the triumphs of a sassy and sophisticated 20 something girl
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