My aunt used to tell me that nightmares about missing a university exam would haunt me for the rest of my life. Truthfully, I never had those. I’m not “normal,” after all. Instead, I have terrifying dreams about being late for, or completely missing, hockey games. There is nothing scarier to a hockey fan than to arrive at the top of his or her section and look down at the ice and discover that the puck is already in play; to know that precious moments of the game were missed sitting in traffic or standing in line for a beer. It’s definitely one of the worst feelings in the world, and it frequently haunts my dreams. The good news is that once the hockey anxiety dreams kick in, it’s a sure sign that the hockey season must be right around the corner. Last weekend, I had my first hockey nightmare of the 2009-10 season. It went a little something like this.
My new baby (car) was parked outside of this very large, mansiony house. The unsettling thing is that a few days later I found myself parked in front of this very house, yet I had never seen the house before. I loaded my stuff in the trunk and got in the driver’s seat to take off. I maybe drove two feet before my car was attacked by a barrage of women in dresses. It was the wives. The beasts. I’m not sure which team they belonged to, but they were unmistakably hockey wives. They surrounded my car and told me that I could not leave until I helped them with their outfits. I rolled my eyes at them, but got out of the car, locked it, and stomped back into the house.
After a few moments, I was able to escape the wretched creatures. I dashed out of the house only to see that my car was no longer on the street. It had been stolen. Naturally, my first thought was not, “Oh @#$%! Someone stole my car!” It was, “Oh @#$%! How the @#$% am I supposed to get to Pittsburgh now?!” (Pittsburgh is my first regular season hockey destination this year.) I was in a panic, but I tried to remain calm. I ran back into the bordello of hockey wives, and frantically contacted Globali, the alleged tracking system that I have in the car in the event of its theft. All they could tell me was that my car was still in the country, but every time I asked what could be done to retrieve it, the operator either gave me a sketchy ambiguous reply, or dead silence. There was definitely a conspiracy afoot.
I set off on a quest to Globali to use brute force against them until they retrieved my car! I only had a matter of days before the Coyotes and the Penguins were set to face off at Mellon Arena – the clock was ticking. Globali was set in the back of this wooded park. I see this park in a lot of my “quest” dreams, yet, as far as I know, it’s not a real place. Anyway, I found the Globali cabin, and started barking orders at the woman working inside.
She went to check on the location of the car on an old school looking computer. She turned back from the screen with a strange look in her eye, and that same sketchy response that the others had given me on the phone. My blood was really starting to boil, so I had to put on my best bad cop routine, and get up in her face as menacingly as possible and demand that she tell me where the car was. Suddenly, I heard a voice whispering to her from the computer screen telling her that she was not permitted to tell me where the car was…or else.
It was the Christmas Carol version of Mickey Mouse who was controlling the minds of the Globali workers. It was suddenly clear that keeping me from hockey was a large scale Disney Corporation evil conspiracy. Were the Ducks behind this? (Yes, I’m aware Disney sold the team four years ago). I was suddenly overwhelmed by the magnitude of the situation, and, out of frustration, attempted to snap the Globali woman out of it by hurling a deck of tarot cards at her head. I am disturbed by the loaded symbolism attached to this weapon of choice. Anyway, I hit her square in the forehead (they didn’t call me the Bionic Arm in junior A for nothing!), but it was no use.
The rest of the dream was a whirlwind of dizzying frustration, silent screams, and panic over what was to become of me and hockey. I was still distressed when I woke up, so I ran to the front door, and looked out the window to see if my car was still in the driveway. It was, but there are still a few weeks before I leave for Pittsburgh – anything can happen.
P.S. If there are any psychiatrists out there making an assessment of my mental health based on this dream, then I should remind you that my blog is called Psycho Lady. Consider that your disclaimer.
hi! nice article, nice blog theme too. do you actually play hockey?
-cathy young
http://sexywomenfashionmodelspics.blogspot.com/