i'm sleeping with someone else's boyfriend, but in the dream i don't question it, or remember that they're together, or something. i'm naked.
he keeps wanting to watch CatDog on TV instead of paying attention to me. i hated that show i was a little kid, but in the dream i figure i may as well see what has him so absorbed.
on the show, CatDog is getting scolded by its(their?) parents, in the middle of what appears to be the living room from the simpsons. the parents are two giant, sickly looking human hands, cut off and bleeding at the wrists. they don't have mouths or anything, they're just gross, disembodied hands with blood-stained fingernails, veiny and bluish and live-action, floating in midair in the middle of this cartoon.
i look away from the screen and suddenly remember that this is my best friend's boyfriend, and my guilt is so powerful i can barely breath. i thrash around, trying to get away from him but the sheets have me all tangled. he doesn't even blink, completely still, eyes like glass staring at the screen.
my perspective shifts to omnipotence and i see my best friend from high school at a party. she looks nothing like herself, a short spikey hair cut and combat boots, but i know it's her. she's walking into a bedroom, about to cheat on her boyfriend (with whom i just watched catdog) with a giant 7-foot-tall woman with long long golden blonde hair and a garish pink sweater.
just as they get close to one another, about to make out, a different woman bursts out of the closet wearing a sparkling redish dress. she's got big, new jersey style hair and makeup, and says she's sorry to interrupt but she'd "love to watch". my friend looks horrified.
my perspective changes again, zooms in really close on the giant lady's shoulder. there's a tiny bird there, made entirely out of weeny teeny beads. black for its feathers, yellow for the beak, with some red and white beads scattered here and there. it's moving like stop-motion, struggling to fly, hopping weakly up and down on her bright pink shoulder until it falters and falls backwards behind her.
"i could make one of those," i say to my mom.
"yes you could, sweetie."
