Some things should never be done right before one sleeps. For example, never try to watch some creepy show before bedtime. I end up flipping on the tube late, late at night before I go to bed to have something--ANYTHING--different to listen to other than history of American dance or the sounds of "Strongest Suit" playing on repeat over and over...for the love of all things sacred, Elton John, did that song have to be so catchy?!
(My Choreography II Presentation is a suite of two dances connected with a seamless segue, one of which is "Strongest Suit" that connects to the first number's storyline.)
Anyway, my sleeping habits have been all sorts of whacked this semester, and blame the TV for the latest ones. Prior to all that though, I first was having nightmares about choreography around beginning of the year. Not just any choreography, but TAP choreography. Oh lordy, lordy, people. I've spent this entire semester trying to overcome thish hurdle in learning to love tap. It's fun, I love watching it and I am a big fan of the paradiddle step *Ask for instructions of how to execute the paradiddle step if desired* HOWEVER, it is not my strongest suit (hahaha, get it?) in dance.
I was thrown into fits of frustration last summer when I had to tackle tap pedagogy--doesn't help that I didn't really know what most of the steps were called. I have always watched, listened, and the mimicked what I saw. Sometimes it works and sometimes it does not. Somehow I made it out alive and did, in fact, learn so much in the process. There's something about having to teach people a subject that suddenly makes it click more for you,t he teacher.
I digress--the tap choreography actually comes in to play with these nightmares I've been having, heavily contributing to my loony state of being these past few months. Choreography II had us exploring tap choreography in class and out of class to the point at which I would close my eyes and dream of nothing but my feet flying around trying desperately to make sounds. Or I would dream I was choreographing for my professors and they all failed me, the choreo and tapping was so bad.
The worst by far is the continuous nightmare I've had since I was in high school: My Dance Hell Hole. In this dream I fall into a cycle where I am in rehearsals, dancing late in night (or in the wee early hours of the morning). I get so tired that I lay my head down to "sleep" where I then "dream" about being home (This is a bit complicated, but when I "sleep" in my dream, I actually wake up in real life to see my room, but I'm so completely out of it that I don't fully wake-up. It's more of a dream/wake state. Totally bizarre.). This continues on about five or six times throughout my night making my next morning not so super fun...not even a pot of coffee can help kick the drowsy state I'm in.
Once we finished the tap segment of Choreo II, the tap nightmares stopped and then I just started dreaming about dancing which usually entails me actually dancing in my sleep. Turns, battements, and all, my legs just start a going and I'm twirling around until I end up all sorts of tangled in my sleep. So ridiculous.
Well, now my dreams have passed the dance stage (for now) and have moved into a darker territory of my imagination. Due to all these crime shows, horror murder stories, I've entered these chilling dreams where I wake up to the sound of keys jingling outside my door. Then I hear the lock turn.
*Side note, I sleep with my French bedroom doors closed. Just a habit I got into in high school; having the door shut is a mental reminder my day has ended, closed. Done. M'kay...back to story, go!*
Someone comes into my apartment and I'm lying there awake, too scared to move because I'm afraid they'll find me, whoever they is. (Really, who waits around for someone to find them, anyway? I mean, I could easily hide under the bed. I'm not even brave in my dreams for heaven's sake!) It is completely terrifying to wake up alone in your apartment frantic that if you open your bedroom door that someone unwelcome will be on the other side of it. I don't even get out of bed, I just lay there and talk myself off the ceiling until I finally fall asleep again...ugh.
After a couple nights of these odd dreams, I suddenly started to wonder, "why the heck does this person have a key to get in?" It really struck me as odd because I'm the only with my set of keys. So who would I have given my keys to? They say dreams are your subconscious pulling forward to mind the things we put to the back of thoughts throughout the day.
Ok...so what am I suppressing that's causing me to dream about mysterious intruders with keys to my house? I say it's the dang emotional disturbing plot lines on television shows today...then again I've been watching Gilmore Girls so that really doesn't add up.
The lack of undisrupted slumber is doing nothing for my psyche right now...before you know it I'll be having nightmares about swimsuits chasing me around...oh brother...
In any case, I did discover the intruder to by none other than my Pyro Man--I guess it wasn't late night TV after all. Huh. Guess I'll have to work out theories behind that one then now...groovy.
So, Pyro Man if you'd like to tell me just why you think it's acceptable to come waltzing into my dreams and scaring me half to death with your cryptic grandiose entrance, I'd be happy to know, sir! I lost ten years off my life and couple hours worth of beauty rest! Just kidding--but seriously, the next time you decide to pop into my dreams, do make it a little less of a "the call is coming from inside the house" scenario.