Hyper-Liberal Dream Journal by Eleanor Streit

Last night I dreamt that I had finally bought the Brooklyn loft I’ve always wanted.  It had incredible views of Manhattan and beyond. In this dream, I woke up to a man in my bed who I assume to be my he’s-just-a-guy-I’m-seeing, as I am an independent woman who doesn’t depend on relationships defined by traditional monogamy.

After I had sent him on his way, I decided to go to the farmer’s market.  This is where it gets good. Just as I was about to buy some local, organic honey (#SaveTheBees), I noticed that the woman in line ahead of me buying fair trade coffee looked familiar.  As she turned around, I realized that she was Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez! AOC herself! We began chatting, and it turns out we are perfectly suited to be best friends, just as I had predicted.  We ended up spending the whole afternoon together: eating ice cream, flying a kite, discussing the Green New Deal. We were on the roof of my apartment building drinking rosé when she stood up, suddenly alert.  

“I must go.  Someone is about to tweet about the stupidity of the Republicans,” she said, her face growing dark.  “But they forgot to include an emoji.” Then I woke up.

Last night I dreamt that I was actually a snowflake.  I was falling from the sky, surrounded by other snowflakes just like me.  I turned to the snowflake next to me. I was about to ask them their preferred pronouns when suddenly I landed somewhere.  I looked around, trying to figure out where I was. I saw a beautiful forest of evergreens passing by. There were so many snowflakes.  It was magical.

I soon realized that I was on someone’s hat.  This person carried me all the way to the front step of a log cabin.  As we entered, the heat of the fire startled me. I didn’t have much time left.  The person took off their hat and hung it on a rack by the door. I looked over to see who had carried me all this way, and it was none other than Senator Bernie Sanders.  I was in Vermont with him. I was about to yell out to him to thank him, to tell him that I had felt the Bern! And feeling the burn I was. I melted away before I could say anything.  Then I woke up.

Last night I dreamt that I lived in one of those tiny houses I’ve seen on HGTV.  I lived in the middle of Central Park. Every day, bloated politicians would come and ask me to move my house, but I refused.  I was like one of those nature goddesses who is super in tune with the land and stuff.

One day, the politicians came back with a bulldozer, saying that I had to go or they would run over my house.  I chained myself to my tiny front porch and told them to do their worst. So they ran me over. Then I woke up.

I love that dream because it makes me feel like a baddie, Joan of Arc type #GirlBoss.  I was just standing up for what I believe in. I think maybe the bulldozer represents capitalism, and the tiny house represents American small businesses.  Or maybe it was a sign that I should start an Etsy shop that sells pins with feminist quotes from Riverdale on them.

Last night I dreamt that I was at Thanksgiving dinner with my whole extended family.  It was clearly 2019 because we were listening to Ariana Grande’s thank u, next, but I had somehow reversed in age and was now 13.  Weird, I know. As we were about to cut the turkey, my uncle decided to bring up Brett Kavanaugh. Every bone in my body quivered with rage.  I began to debate with him, but he wouldn’t listen. I was only 13. I thought about my Instagram post for Dr. Christine Blahblah-Whatsherface.  I had done so much to help women, and my own uncle wouldn’t even listen to me. I ran up to my room, enraged. I decided to read some Rupi Kaur poetry to calm myself down.  I felt better thinking about the fact that my body is a flowing river. I looked up to see Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez sitting on my bed. I felt safe.

Then I woke up.