I'm attending a fundraising dinner at work. Hillary arrives at the very end and wows us all. She is personable and friendly, but I wonder, Why is Hillary Clinton here?
Then everything ends and we begin cleaning up. Hillary jumps in and takes out the trash, then starts putting away the folding chairs. I am very impressed that she is doing this "dirty work."
At last she takes me aside and says very earnestly, I'm so sorry you had to deal with all that harassment stuff at your work. (I recently left a job due to a hostile work environment.)
She spoke in such a genuine and honest way, holding my shoulders and looking into my eyes. I was deeply touched by this, both in the dream and as I remember the feeling now.
28 April 2008
I'm attending a fundraising dinner at work. Hillary arrives at the very end and wows us all. She is personable and friendly, but I wonder, Why is Hillary Clinton here?
I was interviewing Hillary for a feature article, and I was really excited about the story and all the details I was getting. I was structuring the story in my head as I talked to her. I also interviewed some other people, and one of them told me that a little-known fact about Hillary is that she likes to make dirty jokes, and in particular she likes puns on the word hymen. I thought, That's the first paragraph in my story! Then, at the end of my interview with Hillary, I asked her where she would be during the upcoming weekend. She said, This weekend, hymen New York!
25 April 2008
I was on a plane, and for some reason, was carrying a tiny action figure of Hillary. Then the plane started barreling downwards. We were in free fall. I held on tight to the seat ahead of me until we hit the ground.
The next thing I knew, I was on the ground at the site of a terrible plane crash. People were strewn everywhere. The action figure of Hillary was on the ground next to me in pieces. I picked up all the pieces.
Then I was in a shabby office where apparently I was working for Hillary, only she looked more like it was 1993 than 2008. She was working in her office when I came to show her I had put the action figure of her back together. She seemed pleased. Referring to that and the Pennsylvania primary, I told her, That's the second time we've brought you back from the dead this week!
I went to give her a hug, but her mood immediately changed. I don't do hugs, she said coldly. I was suddenly very angry and embarrassed. Her tone was incredibly rude. I thought, Well, if she's going to be like that, I'll just vote for Obama!
It was a strange thing. I remember that she was not only younger in my dream, but incredibly thin.
24 April 2008
I was chasing Hillary Clinton down a sidewalk. She was dressed in a pantsuit and was frequently looking over her shoulder at me. It was not that she was afraid of me. Rather, the conversation was over and Hillary was signaling that she didn't want to talk with me anymore, meaning I should really hurry up and try to catch her -- which is what I did.
Then Hillary and I were talking face to face. I had taken a hold of her shoulders in a kind of pleading way, but I might also have been pressing her up against a brick wall that suddenly appeared. It's unclear.
I gave Hillary a rehash of the dialog that's been in my head for the last two weeks or so, which is that Barack Obama is the most exciting political candidate the Democratic Party has seen in 40 years, and that instead of getting behind him, Hillary (and the party) were tearing him down and dragging him through the mud, destroying his chances of winning. At one point I looked right into her eyes and said, He grew up poor. I mean truly poor, at which point Hillary broke eye contact and looked off in a peevish kind of way that said to me that she knew I was right, but that she couldn't be bothered.
I woke up feeling stricken, which is how I felt when I went to bed. But the dream was still cathartic in a way that I can't explain. I feel more at peace today.
23 April 2008
I'm looking at photos of Bill and Hillary from way back when. They're both only wearing underwear and they're in a dorm room with another couple only in underwear. Bill is sitting up and Hillary is lying next to him. She's staring blankly. She's really stoned.
In my dream, as in life, I support Obama, but looking at those pictures makes me like Hillary more than I had. I feel like once upon a time, she had fun. Then I am talking to my mom and she says it's too bad that women get uglier with age and men get more attractive.
21 April 2008
I was telling the actress Kathy Bates, who was my therapist, about my mid-life angst. She responded with a feminist lecture that all of women's unhappiness is really about thwarted ambition that turns into bitterness and anger. While Kathy Bates was talking, there was a panning over a large display of Hillary magazine covers, and in each of them Hillary looked monstrously enraged.
18 April 2008
In my dream, Hillary wanted to date me. Her intent was more physical than just going out. I heard she was looking for me. Then she appeared outside in a shopping plaza and was acting coy. She told me she wanted to be with me, and I respectfully declined. She insisted that I consider her advances and there was an undertone of "or else". I still declined and she still insisted.
She took off her dress and asked me to check her out. She was wearing a t-shirt and average, women's underwear. It was not very flattering. I tried to walk away, noticing her car and that some of her secret service people were behind her, about 50 feet away.
She put her arms around my neck and pressed against me in a very awkward way. At last, I was able to leave the area.
Next, I found myself running from her secret service men who were trying to kill me. I was able to run into familiar territory and lost them. Then I got to my car and began driving, but they were hot on my trail. I was able to somehow leave the car and I watched the Secret Service men drive their car over the edge of a cliff.
Then I was in a different home from my own and the Secret Service guys still were looking for me. They were saying that they needed to find me or Hillary was going to be mad as hell. I was able to jump out a window and fly downward, rather comfortably, through some trees.
I was able to get away from Hillary and her henchmen only to realize that she was no different than any other "crazy" woman I've met. Weird.
16 April 2008
I was at a church retreat or convention. I ended up sitting next to Hillary in the dining hall. We struck up a pleasant conversation and she admitted that she didn't know how to skate-board. I offered to teach her.
She got up on a skateboard and rolled along the sidewalk with me by her side, offering my arm and shoulder to steady her. She seemed game for anything, interested in learning new things, and was open to talking with all kinds of people. She wasn't nervous about being on the skateboard, yet didn't try to hide her lack of skill. I found her easy to talk to, genuine, and personable.
15 April 2008
I’m a writer for The Nation magazine, and I’m on deadline for an article that I’ve basically forgotten to do. Just as I'm packing the car with my boyfriend -- we're about to go on a trip -- I remember the article, stop packing the car, and go dash off a draft. Then I take it to the office. I know it’s not very good but I’m hoping to get away with it.
Hillary Clinton and Keith Olbermann are the editors and they read it on the spot. Clinton asks me if I understand the meaning of the word homogeneous, which is a word I use in my article. I can’t think of its meaning, which makes me angry, since I understand it in context but just can’t think of how to define it.
They continue to be quite rude to me. Olbermann gives me a really arrogant and over-the-top dressing down in front of Clinton and a bunch of other staff who come in to watch him yell. I end up in a huge childish fight with them, screaming and giving them the finger before I run out.
I return to my boyfriend, crying. He tries to comfort me and tells me he’s often done a shoddy job on articles for The Nation, and I should relax. I know he works harder than I do on his articles, and this makes me more angry, and I get in a huge fight with him, too.
We cancel our trip and I end up by myself, taking the dog for a walk and crying.
12 April 2008
Hillary and I were walking through my city, Toronto. A few paces behind us my boyfriend was walking with the woman Hillary had just announced as a running mate -- a cheerful, friendly young woman who looked like Hillary but prettier, with a blonde bob and the same orange makeup Hillary was wearing. It wasn’t clear who this women was. I had told Hillary that it was a brilliant political choice, though I wasn’t sure it was true.
The four of us were walking through back-alleys, past clothing shops, toward a movie theatre. Hillary was impressive and serious and wasn’t making conversation, and everything I could think of to say sounded stupid to me (Do you come to Toronto often? – obviously she didn’t, but she was here now) so I didn’t say a word. When we passed a bunch of furniture and garbage that someone had thrown out, I looked at it desperately, thinking it might help provide me with a topic of conversation, but as we walked past it, I didn’t remark on it and neither did she.
At last we came to a large Canadian Tire store where her political rival – Bill Clinton (that is who she was running against) was going to announce his running mate. The store was closed but was being prepared to be open so that the announcement could take place. I felt bad for Hillary, for Bill's announcement would take place in that huge store, while hers had taken place that morning in a tiny shop, also closed, when no one but me was around.
10 April 2008
I am working as Hillary's assistant. My primary duties include walking her really big dogs and carrying shopping bags full of auto parts. I am unsteady on my feet because of several unwieldy hubcaps I am carrying, when a passing rodent causes the dogs to go crazy and drag me through a puddle of raw sewage in Central Park.
07 April 2008
I was working for Obama's campaign but for some reason I had to interview Hillary. I kept trying to come up with questions to ask her, but couldn't think of one.
At last she met me in the grand entrance hall of what looked like a 19th-century building, sort of Spanish-influenced with colorful columns and a tile floor.
She came down a flight of stairs completely alone -- no security, no press. Again I drew a complete blank on what to say to her.
She was smiling and we walked out together. Then I woke up. I remember finding her hot but I would still never vote for her in a million years.
I was with a group of people, mostly men, watching a political show on TV at someone's house. I made a comment about some campaign facts. One man said shut up, with a smile. Others had been commenting, too. I went into the kitchen and cleaned up, loading the dishwasher. There were some wooden-handled kitchen tools and I thought they may need oiling after being in the dishwasher.
Hillary appeared in the kitchen in a rose pink chenille robe. She was very thin. She looked upset that the wooden-handled tools were going in the dishwasher. I began looking for the oil I had bought earlier to oil the handles.
We had some perfunctory exchanges. She would not make eye contact. She was irritable but feigning civility. I tried to say something sympathetic about growing up in a house with brothers, but she brushed it off.
06 April 2008
I was in an old, convoluted building with plaster walls and heavy wooden trim, like an old schoolhouse. Hillary had plotted against me and my friend and was trying to destroy us, and had set her thugs upon us. They chased us through the building and upstairs where we ran into Hillary. I tried to convince her to let us go, that she and I were on the same side, saying that while I have "the brains" she has "the charisma."
04 April 2008
I was at an outdoor event. Bill Clinton was sitting at a metal folding table that had a plastic, patterned tablecloth, and he was joking around with some reporters. Then he started getting nervous about something, as evident from the pit stains on his shirt. As his nervousness increased, he started turning into a beige-colored larva about two feet long or so. This made me dejected.
Hillary came along out of nowhere and picked up the larva-with-Bill-Clinton's-face, tucked him under her arm and sat down on a metal folding chair. She had a wry expression and kept fidgeting because the larva on her lap (which now had a pair of little legs with hooves) was somewhat overweight and was also apparently still sweating.
Hillary and Bill were renewing their wedding vows in a small ceremony. They were so happy to renewing their vows! I was supposed to sing at it but I had a sore throat and couldn't.
I felt so bad. Fearing I would ruin their day and disappoint them, I asked the organizer if they could play a recording of the song and I would lip synch.
02 April 2008
I was a 100-year-old man and I rode a white horse to a cone-shaped temple where Hillary was giving a short speech.
The room was very small and as it was only filled with a handful of kindergarten students, I blatantly stuck out. I sensed this put Hillary on edge, as she seems quite perceptive, but she continued by reading from a set script, which went over very well, and she grew more comfortable. Then the kids asked her a lot of cute questions.
At the end of her speech, Hillary asked for campaign donations. I recalled that I'd already given to a telephone canvasser and left quickly to allow the youngsters full opportunity to meet this vibrant presidential hopeful.
I looked back at Hillary as I was leaving the hall and as our eyes locked in a warm gaze, she mouthed the words, Thank you and the horse you rode in on.
Hillary came up to me personally to ask if I would campaign for her. She was gorgeous -- much prettier than on TV!! She had a pamphlet with some sort of survey attached to it, and I was filling it out in green pen, but I kept messing up and having to cross out my answers.
01 April 2008
It was a big day for Chelsea, a right of passage into womanhood or a graduation. A large crowd was gathered in the auditorium and Bill was at the podium giving a brilliant speech about the precious moment in his daughter’s life. I stood near the stage in the pit where Hillary was awaiting her turn to speak.
I was thinking what a lovely family moment it was, very genuine, though not quite fully removed from the political arena. I thought that it could have just been a very wise move for a politician to have a kid, a way of giving yourself a platform to speak on that is not political yet at the same time very effectively promotes you, whereas if you didn't have a kid, you couldn't relate so well to the majority of voters with families, who have gone through such experiences themselves.
It was now Hillary’s turn. Bill gave her a wonderful introduction and as her aides prepped her to go on stage, I noticed that she was wearing a costume pig-snout. Apparently it was a tongue-in-cheek joke about the bad press she had been receiving.
I advised her that it wasn’t a good idea to wear it on the stage, thinking that she should just play it straight and stay focused on what was happening with Chelsea. But she and her aides insisted it was important that she wear it.
She stepped onto stage and I could sense the audience was not amused. A group of middle-aged women shook their heads in disapproval. The joke had flopped. I was sure it would cost her in the polls.
I am in an airplane, standing in the back in the stewardess area, when the plane starts to experience mechanical difficulties and then begins a controlled but very fast descent. We are not able to make it to the airport so the pilot decided to land the plane on a fairly busy highway. I can see all this happening. The plane lands on the highway and takes out a couple of cars, but everyone on the plane is safe. Later, I see a newspaper with a headline that reads, Clinton Pilots Plane to Safety and a bunch of pictures of Hillary smiling and being congratulated on saving the lives of the passengers.
There is a smaller story about the casualties on the ground.
Hillary was running for president unopposed. Two of my friends and I realized that something needed to be done to ensure a fair election. Also, she had become a mad woman and was making all sorts of outrageous suggestions for new policies. Though we are democrats, we decided that we needed to find a strong Republican candidate who could stop her. We persuaded John Goodman to run. In the dream, he was the character he played in the television series The West Wing -- Republican Speaker of the House. Although I never found out who won, he was successful in moderating her policies.