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Why Don’t We Do It In The Diary Room

That's three times now I've dreamed about Alex from Big Brother. I am becoming one sad little individual.

Last night I dreamed that all of my high school class got voted into the house. I was obsessesing about how huge my arse must look like on national television, but overcame this in time to start winning Alex over with my charm and wit. We were getting along just fine. But then what happened? I turned my back for one second and there he was, getting cosy in the backyard spa with a girl who was Miss Popularitypants in my class.

Does anyone else have horrible high school flashbacks in their dreams? Certain characters just pop up to ruin a perfectly good moment. Stomping over my poor little deepsleeping heart, making me feel as inadequate and invisible in my dreams as effortlessly as they did back in the schoolyard. Bah!

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About Shauna Reid

Ahoy there! I’m an author, copywriter and old school blogger. I love telling stories about life and helping my clients to tell theirs. Find out more about me and how we can work together.


18 thoughts on “Why Don’t We Do It In The Diary Room

  1. It’s not just in dreams, I ran into a Popular Bitch From Highschool in the supermarket last weekend.
    Six years worth of self-esteem building went down the toilet and I instantly reverted back to the stammering idiot I was way back when.

    How do they do it??

  2. It’s not just in dreams, I ran into a Popular Bitch From Highschool in the supermarket last weekend.
    Six years worth of self-esteem building went down the toilet and I instantly reverted back to the stammering idiot I was way back when.

    How do they do it??

  3. Poor Shauny 🙁

    I can only really remember one time when I’ve had a vivid, heart crushing dream along vaguely those lines.

    I was on a plane, and one of the other passengers was someone I’d had a crush on (but had reduced to just a slight whistfulness if I remembered her). In the dream, the crush was alive and well – and very intense! She got up, and was flirting rather heavily with my father for a few moments. And then they started shagging in the aisle for all to see!

    It felt horrible for days. It wasn’t that I knew (in the dream) she was shagging someone other than me (though that wasn’t exactly pleasant for me), but the feeling that I’d not been ‘good enough’ for her myself. It was that inferiority thing.

    School only really appears in my dreams when the theme is lost chances or getting second chances when it comes to not having a degree.

    Anyway, whatever the Evil Dream Fairy might be telling you, you’re not inadequate, and you’re not inferior. I know that just sounds like I’m saying it to be nice, but bugger me with a broom handle, it’s true.

  4. Ick. I dream that I am lost and can’t find my classes and that I have tests that I haven’t prepared for. I wake up sweating. Why does that happen?? Stress, maybe. Dunno.

  5. I still dream about college. It’s always two thirds of the way through the semester and I have to find art class, which I have wagged the entire time.

  6. Nope, never run into high-school people in dreams. But then, I’m not commenting on that. I just feel your Alex love, is all.

  7. The problem with my own high school dreams is that I had more of them as an adolescent. For whatever reason, there were a few English teachers that turned me on as an impressionable youth. The dreams, which came from a fifteen year-old kid contending with both a developing imagination and a randiness rivaled only by a horny-as-hell squadron of virile soldiers returning from a war, involved teachers reading to me, seducing me and then allowing me to recreate the form of the book, using their legs and arms as metaphorical “pages” to turn over, in the bedroom. I would be disciplined by these older women, who were somehow more sinuous within my dirty mind, if I hadn’t read particular authors. For whatever reason, the book was the ultimate sexual high and the soiled sheets of many a wet dream contributed to furtive runs to the washer and dryer in the early morning, attempting to cover up dissemination (no pun intended) that I found I could control more effectively through quotidian mastrubation.

    As a result, years later, when I saw the human body used as a book in Peter Greenaway’s Pillow Book, the film made a good deal of sense to me, more so than my friends, who looked at my admiration and immediate understanding as their own personal answer to a less rapacious but ultimately sick-minded de Sade.

    Today, I am still turned on by brainy and playful women. But while my adolescent dreams were limited to the classroom and the bedroom, this newfound educator and I are gloriously free to roam the earth. And the tie-in between books and sex has possibly become considerably more intense now that I read and write more frequently than I did back in those days.

    And why does this comment read like a really bad epistle sent into Penthouse Letters?

  8. You know what the best is? Seeing LittleMissPopularityPants still workin’ the counter at Blockbuster Video, just as she was in highschool, when you go to rent Breakfast At Tiffany’s. (Especially satisying if you don’t show up in sweatpants to rent the movie)

  9. Actually, I’ve been dreaming (asleep as well as awake) of winning the competition for a certain reverse-charges company to win a night in the BB house with 12 of your mates… I’ve got them all worked out and they’re all bloggers!

    Except there’s far more shagging than there really should be. um huh huh huh… Look, out, bloggers! Monkey’s coming…

    literally….

  10. yep, i get them too. i hate that they could make me feel that way. not anymore though. generally i won’t stand for it now. as i’ve grown up i’ve been more likely to think that people like that really suck.

    funny thing is, the other day, i ran into a girl i used to go to school with. she was not one of the most horrible ones, in fact she was generally pretty nice, but she was in the ‘beautiful people’ group .. the ones that stabbed each other in the back relentlessly, but would be all kissy face & suck up to each other face-to-face.

    she was so normal & really nice. she had two kids by that time & still looked really good. she was still with her husband that she became pregnant to right after year 12 (no one thought it would last, that was about 12 years ago now) & she seemed really happy.

    some people seem to grow out of being arseholes.

    made me think that maybe it’s just school that sucks. yeah, school really does suck.

    hmm, sorry about the novella. i obviously still have some issues there.

  11. I can sympathize to a certain extent with Roxy’s sentiments. I felt that way until I was about 20, when I had an unexpected run-in from a snotty honors student who was mean to me. (How dare I like Don Marquis’s poetry and do a presentation on archy the cockroach in front of the class! How dare I use a Fletch Lives poster to make a point about the bastardization of culture!) She had fallen on tremendously hard times and she looked as if she had aged about ten years. When I heard the complete story about her from a mutual friend, I couldn’t help but remain anything but sympathetic. Since then, aside from an English teacher who discouraged me and told me that I could not write, I bear no ill will towards my fellow classmates in high school. But then, this is the limited intellectual scope of getting a public education in Sacramento.

  12. People see what they want to see and not what is really there. The trick is to find the person who can delve deeper and truly see each person for who they are. When you find that person, never let them go because they are unique, and one of a kind. They are the people worth waiting for, and never the ones who try to fake it, like miss popularitypants or the guys she turns into swine 😉

  13. i never dream of the assholes at school. tho i used to work for an educational publisher, and had to sit infront of a bookshelf teeming with maths and science text books. at least once a week i’d have the nightmare of the important ‘spot’ exam i wasn’t prepared for. eeeek! that was much worse than any asshole flashback!

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