What Dreams May Come

My sleep patterns have been hosed for quite some time. I get very little sleep during the week (6 hours or less most nights), then oversleep on the weekends (10-12 hours each Saturday and Sunday, not including afternoon naps).

The last couple of nights, I've tried going to bed a lot earlier than usual. That way, I get the pre-sleep reading, tossing and turning out of the way and have a better chance at a full night's rest. Monday night, I went down just after eight; Tuesday, perhaps an hour later. Both nights, I fell asleep pretty quickly and very deeply.

When I fall asleep deeply, I dream. And because I went to bed so early, I had more than one highly detailed dream each night.

Some of the dreams I could do without, like the zombie nightmares or the "woman I used to love or lust or whatever" inscapes. (Anytime you want to do me a big wet favor and shut your trap, subconscious, I'd greatly appreciate it.) Others, however, are entertaining, if only because of their random weirdness, like the one I had last night about Kristy McNichol.

Kristy McNichol was a TV/movie star back in the '70s and '80s, when she won an Emmy for her role on Family, appeared in a Christmas episode of Starsky & Hutch and struggled to get a big-screen career on track with efforts like Little Darlings (a teen sex dramidy also starring Tatem O'Neal and Matt Dillon), The Pirate Movie (a blatant ripoff of The Pirates of Penzance) and White Dog (a Sam Fuller film that, because of its exploration of racism through the story of the titular canine, who's been trained to kill black people, was never properly released in the U.S. and only last year came out on DVD--thank you, Criterion Collection!). She was last seen as the youngest daughter on the sitcom Empty Nest; rumor has it that she's taught acting in the Los Angeles area.

I had a massive crush on Kristy back in the day. (What can I say--I went through a tomboy phase). I had a poster of her up in my bedroom, and yes, I had impure thoughts about her--teenage boys rarely have thoughts that are anything but. But I don't recall ever dreaming about her before--last night, though, I did.

Kristy was in one of those vertical malls--the kind that spread up rather than out--and was at a table on the ground level of the mall, signing photos and CDs advertising her comeback not as an actress, but as a singer. (Like nearly every other '70s teen actor, Kristy put out an album--in conjunction with her older brother, Jimmy--and like nearly other '70s teen-actor album, it's bloody awful.) I was riding down the escalators one by one, working my way toward the table where Kristy labored away at a pile of 8x10s with a black Sharpie all by herself--there was no one in line, and indeed no one else on that level of the mall but her--but I never quite reached the bottom before waking up.

What does the dream mean? Does it mean anything? Don't know. Don't care. It was just refreshing to have a guest star bopping around my nigh-nigh noggin who was actually welcome there.