Sex Dreams About Men I Don't Care For
Everybody has 'em, those late-night lust shows that get your sheets in a twist. Your X-rated dreams may be delicious, disturbing, or downright dirty, but one things for sure, waking up from them always leaves you wondering what those torrid thoughts mean. Are you unwittingly panting after someone? Do you crave more devilishness in the sack? Well, just maybe.
--Zucker, Gina. "Your Sex Dreams: What They Mean." Cosmopolitan. July 2003. p. 134
Sometimes the person you're shagging represents a facet of yourself that you're unaware of when you're awake.
So I--like many women--tend to have these weird sex dreams. The weirdest thing about them is that they never seem to star anyone I'd give a second thought to in my waking life: not my charmingly knickerbockered postman, not my best friend's Uncle Todd (both of whom have been the subject of long & complicated daydreams involving having to go in a closet to find a fuse box together or being the only two peolpe to accidentally getting locked in the stacks of some university library while pursuing separate research projects.) This is because sex dreams aren't always about sex; they can be about other stuff, like a power struggle, or swimming--or how you identify in some way with the person you're having sex with, as we learn from Cosmo. (This is a relief, because lately my sex dreams have been mostly about kind of cheesey celebrities, and I'm embarrassed that my subconscious thinks they are hot.) In my continuing search for my own identity, I did an analysis of all my unlikely dream-sex partners. You can read it here.
PS. Most of these dreams don't actually involve sex. Sorry.
Myron from third grade
The first time I had an erotic dream that left me scratching my head & thinking, "What was I thinking?" was in third grade, when I had a vague but sensual dream about this kid in my class named Myron. I think he was naked or something in the dream, or at least he had his shirt off. What troubled me, besides the fact that when I saw Myron in school the next day I was plagued by a nagging certainty that I'd seen his tummy, was that I had never had even the eensiest crush on him. Besides the fact that he had big glasses and was the only child in our bayou-Catholic elementary school to celebrate Hanukkah, there was nothing exceptional about him at all. I concluded that it had just been about the sex.
It probably wasn't the sex at all. In retrospect, I realize that Myron represented a facet of myself that I was unaware of when I was awake. As a child who harbored secret convictions that she was an alien visitor trapped in the plump and golden body of an eight-year-old girl, I probably identified with Myron's role as an outsider in our classroom community. As Myron was subject to ridicule and scrutiny for his stupid Dreidel song and his disinterest in the Christ child, I was ridiculed and scrutinized for the elaborate virgin sacrifices I reenacted using those felt cut-out people and animals that you put on that felt board they had in elementary school. And as Myron felt he could not relate to us, with our slavish devotion to that gouty voluptuary known as Santa Claus, I would soon feel that I could not relate to my peers, who had never been married or gotten incredibly drunk off of hooch.
Tim Coney from fourth grade
My second disturbing erotic dream came a year later, when I dreamed that I and this kid I absolutely hated, Tim Coney, were standing at opposite ends of, like, a tennis court or something and removing items of our clothing and throwing them to each other. By the end of the dream we had completely switched clothes. At the time I just wanted to throw up, because I fucking hated Tim Coney so fucking much and I didn't want to be disgustingly naked on a tennis court with disgusting naked Tim Coney. Later in life, I wondered if Tim Coney and I hated each other so much because we had similarly fiery temperaments, and if perhaps the clothes-switching was my subconscious suggesting to me that I pause to realize that Tom Coney and I were not so very different after all.
That last analysis probably holds true enough. But wait! Tim Coney was born on February 29 in a leap year, so he was only two years old. I think I envied him his eternal youth, and wished to change places with him.
Romeo-and-Juliet-era Leonardo DiCaprio
I was at this play in this very ornate theater and I noticed Leonardo DiCaprio was sitting next to me, but I decided I wouldn't say anything. I was too proud. But then he asked me if I wanted to go out and have dessert after the play. So I did. And we had dessert in a fancy dessert place, and it was real nice. It was just weird, because it's lame to have a crush on Leonardo DiCaprio. Although I was too proud to make a big deal out of him sitting next to me.
NB: It's going to be all celebrities from here on in.
Probably I felt that I, too, was King of the World.
In this dream I was staying at a friend's house on Cape Cod or something, and she had these two amazing brothers, and they were both in love with me. One of them was Josh Hartnett. He was kind of a crunchy version of Josh Hartnett who liked to go backpacking and stuff, and maybe listen to the Grateful Dead, but at any rate he was totally in love with me and we were slow-dancing to no music in this upstairs room of the Cape Cod house and I was feeling guilty because I knew my friend was going to think it was weird that I was dancing with her brother, and anyway why was Josh Hartnett interested in me? Then his brother came up the stairs and you could see his face fall as he realized we were dancing. He loved me, too. He was preppier and looked a little bit like Doogie Howser, but more classically handsome. I felt bad and I danced with him, too. I had a little trouble deciding between them, but I think I really loved Josh Hartnett. I kept telling them both that there was another single girl (some other visiting friend) downstairs but they both loved me. I also kept trying to find a place where I could go make out with Josh Hartnett.
This dream was disturbing because I have never in my life professed to have a crush on Josh Hartnett. The Leo thing was bad enough, but at least it happened before Titanic. I mean, Josh Hartnett had totally been in Pearl Harbor and a bunch of other stupid movies and number two, I am too old for Josh Hartnett, and this is ridiculous, and who am I???
I don't know anything about Josh Hartnett, so I don't really know what this dream tells me about myself. Maybe I don't know anything about myself! Maybe I just have a secret desire to be in love with Josh Hartnett. Maybe I should call Tiger Beat! Maybe I should call Josh himself! Yoo-hoo! Yikes. It would actually be great if I married Josh Hartnett, because my friends wouldn't be impressed the way they'd be impressed if I married some rock-and-roll idol of theirs, or, like, Vincent Gallo, or Bruce Campbell or something, but they'd still have to be impressed. They'd keep trying to play it cool when they came over, like I was trying to play it cool in the theater with Leo, but then you'd catch them trying to steal junkmail that was addressed to "the Anonymous Blonde Hartnett" so they could show it to people at work.
I dreamed I was going on a date with Charlie Sheen, and it was a big deal. I took this really long bath, which was scented with many oils and spices, and which was contained within a brushed-steel bathtub and banked by many attendants, and I kept worrying that Charlie was going to show up and come in the bathroom and see me in the bath. He might have, but I might have managed to hide behind soapsuds or my attendants. When the date actually happened, we both curled up on a twin bed in a tiny room, along with some friend of mine, and we talked about Ulysses and maybe read passages from it. I remember thinking, "Charlie Sheen seems pretty smart, but on the other hand he is kind of known to be a faux-intellectual, he does write all those stupid poems." I feel like he probably smelled good, like bay rum. It was a little awkward but I liked him, and I was put out when he started kissing my friend. BUT by then he had turned into Burt Reynolds, so who cares?
This was the most puzzling dream of all, because who has a crush on Charlie Sheen? That's not a rhetorical question; I mean that. Also, I did some research after I had the dream, and it turns out he married and impregnated Denise Richards pretty recently.
I couldn't figure out anything I had in common with Charlie Sheen, until I remembered that I married and impregnated Denise Richards this one time.
BONUS CELEBRITY DREAM
I have a recurring dream that Tom Petty is a friend of the family. I always come down to breakfast to find my parents sitting around eating pastries with Tom Petty. It's not a sex dream, but it's intensely emotional and strange, and I always wake up with this ludicrous tenderness for Tom Petty. I have never owned a Tom Petty album. I will listen willingly but not enthusiastically when "Free Fallin" comes on the radio in someone else's car.
Well, we both have blonde hair, and my parents like me, so I guess it follows that they would like Tom Petty.