Years ago, I read a very interesting William Burroughs book in which he recounted his dreams. In this book, ‘My Education: A Book of Dreams’ he described in murky detail his brain’s night time ramblings, neuroses, fears and a host of other odd situations. I thought I’d love to do that too! Around this time I was in my cannabis phase and my mind was ablaze with freaky and far out thoughts and my dreams were no exception. I endeavoured to make sure there was paper and a pen by my bedside so that as I awoke I could immediately scribble down whatever I could remember. I had this vain hope I’d have a bestseller on my hands. After a couple of weeks though it became clear that perhaps people shouldn’t be allowed to see what I’d dreamt about.
You may have guessed, the title of this blog may have given it away.
In amongst the usual dreams of teeth loss and journeys I embarked upon that never ended there were dreams that contained varying hints of transvestism. The gyst of one of the ones I wrote down was this: a new law had been passed at school. Everyone (including boys) had to wear skirts. I acquiesced to this with a certain amount of reluctance but as it was passed down from on high I had to.
Ah, cd dreams. I’m assuming every other cross-dresser has them. I know I do and sometimes it’s the trigger for another ‘session’. In fact I had one the other night. In this one, a band I was in was having photos taken for the front cover of our album. The band in question was a sort of hybrid of various bands I’ve been in over the years. A typical dream distortion. I ended up in a short but elegantly smart black dress and luscious long red hair for no discernable reason – and nobody minded. This is not so typical of my cd dreams. The ones I half remember from recent years do involve me really going for it in public and social situations and reactions are not too positive. I should point out too that for me it’s like a variation on the ‘suddenly naked’ dream. You know except that instead of being suddenly naked I’m suddenly en femme. There was a more subtle one the following night when I removed my socks in the dream and my toe nails were still painted (as they are right now). A dark blue colour, one of only 2 shades of polish I have. My Mum enquired after them but I claimed it was a remedy for athlete’s foot I was trying out. That was something I subconsciously borrowed from a film called ‘Just Like a Woman’. If you haven’t seen it it’s worth a look. One of the few films I’ve seen where the transvestite main character is portrayed sympathetically and isn’t played solely for laughs.
I do like my cd dreams on the whole, especially these days where I have began to gain a little acceptance and try to enjoy it without any of the attendant guilt or anxiety. I’d really like to hear examples of other people’s if they’d be willing to share!
One last thing, nothing to do with dreams at all. The onset of Easter has reminded me of something that may interest you. When I was younger I found an intriguing use for discarded Easter Egg packaging. I discovered it was possible to create fake boobs out of the clear plastic part that protected the egg. I think it was Cadbury in particular that had the best shape. It was already split in two for you so little or no trimming was needed. I often wonder if I was alone in this…