August 23, 2015

Last night, I had a dream about Hillary Clinton.

With a needle and thread, I was fixing something of mine that I needed to wear.

Hillary Clinton wanted to use my needle and thread to fix something of hers that she needed to wear.

Instead of finishing my own work, I cut the thread and offered to sew whatever it was that she needed.

She had a skirt, but the only thing it needed was a tag to be sewn on the inside. That is, the skirt was fully wearable, and no fix was really needed.

The tag said "LARGE." It was a size tag. Why would she need a size tag in a skirt she already owned? Did she resell her clothes? I asked, indicating that it was a good idea for her, with so many clothes, to have a system of passing them on to others who could use them. But why was I helping her in that enterprise, especially when I had my own sewing project?

Somehow, my needle slipped and tore into the suit jacket of another woman who was standing nearby. It was a fancy, expensive looking, patterned pink thing, and I'd made a big slash across the chest.

I effusively apologized to that woman and was quite annoyed. None of this would have happened if I'd stuck to the sewing I needed to do for myself.

This dream reminds me of an old saying that you don't hear anymore, but my mother often used: Stick to your knitting.

ADDED: Possible source material for the idea of a pink jacket:

As MayBee, in the comments remembers, I deny that Carly's jacket was pink. Also, neither of those is patterned. The jacket in my dream looked like something that, in the light of morning, calls to mind the recent Reddit post "One of these is Jupiter's moon Europa, the rest are frying pans":

As for Jackie, here's a passage from the 4th volume of Robert A. Caro's LBJ biography:
It seemed as if it was going to be a Kennedy day. As Air Force One touched down at Dallas’ Love Field at 11: 38— 12: 38 Washington time— everything seemed very bright under the brilliant Texas sun and the cloudless Texas sky: the huge plane gleaming as it taxied over closer to the crowd pressing against a fence; the waiting open presidential limousine, so highly polished that the sunlight glittered on its long midnight-blue hood that stretched forward to the two small flags fluttering on the front bumpers. There was a moment’s expectant pause while steps were wheeled up to the plane, and then the door opened, and into the sunlight came the two figures the crowd had been waiting for: Jackie first (“There is Mrs. Kennedy, and the crowd yells!” the television commentator yelled), youthful, graceful, tanned, her wide smile, bright pink suit and pillbox hat radiant in the dazzling sun; behind her, the President, youthful, elegant (“I can see his suntan all the way from here!” the commentator shouted), with the mop of brown hair glowing, one hand checking the button on his jacket in the familiar gesture, coming down the steps just so slightly turned sideways to ease his back that it wasn’t noticeable unless you looked for it. A bouquet of bright red roses was handed to Jackie by the welcoming committee, and it set off the pink and the smile.


rhhardin said...

As ye sew, so shall ye reap.

Beldar said...

You may get an email today from Hillary warning you that Republicans are out to steal your needle. #waronwomen

But in the dream ... it was her who wanted your needle. You don't mention her giving you any assurance that you would ever get it back, do you? All you know is that when you tried to do the right and helpful thing yourself -- which wouldn't have required you to entrust her with your needle, but would have accomplished the purpose she claimed to want to see furthered -- you ended up hurting someone else unintentionally.

You use your needle to fix things. Occasionally to poke things, in a cruelly neutral way? Be careful with your needle, Professor Althouse. Tend to your knitting, and neither a borrower nor a needle-lender be.

Beldar said...

That will be $180, pay the receptionist as you exit.

rhhardin said...

It might be Freud's dream of Irma's injection. Just move the symbols around.

Meade said...

"Somehow, my needle slipped and tore into the suit jacket of another woman who was standing nearby. It was a fancy, expensive looking, patterned pink thing, and I'd made a big slash across the chest."

What difference, at this point...

Wilbur said...

The lead picture on Drudge features Hill, Bill and another woman taking a walk on the beach. Bill is staring intently into his phone, ignoring the other two.

The other woman is looking back directly at Hillary, while Hill's eyes are to the ground.

Beldar, have a go at that photo. When you return from France, of course.

rhhardin said...

That's a fish dream.

Wilbur said...

Last night I had a craaaazy dream, about a chick in a black bikini ...

MayBee said...

The woman in pink was obviously Carly Fiorina. And, by the way, it was light red.

Ann Althouse said...

@MayBee LOL. Or... only LOL'ing the "light red." Not the reference to mastectomy.

Also in the non-LOL category: Meade said the damaged pink jacket meant Jackie Kennedy.

MayBee said...

OH, no! I wasn't referencing the mastectomy. I was just thinking by helping Hillary you were slashing at the heart of Carly.

Ambrose said...

Is there a Madame Defarge joke in there somewhere?

Barry Dauphin said...

Skirt? This must be why she started wearing pantsuits.

pm317 said...

Reads like "Spellbound." What does it all mean?

Bay Area Guy said...

In your dream, was Hillary wearing her "Ming the Merciless" outfit with that enormous open collar? That might have some significance.

Phil 314 said...

Did the dream also include 7 fat cows and 7 slender cows?

Christy said...

One line of interpretation believes everyone in our dreams is a version of ourselves.

bbkingfish said...

Does making up a story and representing it to readers as a dream you have had count as a lie?

Ann Althouse said...

Maybee, I didn't think you meant to refer to the mastectomy, only that the reference is there. We are interpreting a dream, so anything that can be seen is worth considering.

Ann Althouse said...

Good point about skirts. I'm the one who wears skirts.

Ann Althouse said...

"Does making up a story and representing it to readers as a dream you have had count as a lie?"

Oh, you think it's that good? Thanks!

Laslo Spatula said...

I had a dream that involved Hillary Clinton.

Or, actually, a young woman who insisted she was Hillary Clinton. To be more specific: a hot chick who insisted she was Hillary Clinton.

She kept saying "Make love to me, I'm Hillary Clinton," and I would say "No you're not, you're a Hot Chick."

She insisted "I AM Hillary Clinton" and I said "Why would you even want to say that? You're a Hot Chick with great legs and amazing breasts. You are NOT Hillary Clinton."

So, being a Hot Chick I banged her anyway. But then, mid-doggy-style she cackled and then transformed. She WASN'T a Hot Chick! I was tricked, but still I kept fucking her, I couldn't stop, except now she was Chelsea Clinton, not Hillary, and I knew I had to get out of that room, fast.

So I donated to her Foundation, all over her face.

Then went down a hallway that never seemed to end.

Dreams are weird.

Bay Area Guy said...

Hmmm. This election cycle Althouse has so far dreamt of Trump and Hillary. I'm wondering if she's had prior presidential-type dreams, say dreams of Goldwater or LBJ, back in '64? These are bi-partisan dreams!

MacMacConnell said...

Hillary's size tag was "large"? Or had she cut out the XXL tags replacing them with L?

Quaestor said...

Second row first image is Europa.

"Does making up a story and representing it to readers as a dream you have had count as a lie?" I guess a dream is just a lie your brain tell itself.

I woke up this morning from a dream about high diving. I was persuading a woman to do a 100-foot dive into a tank as a stunt. She was all for it, but chickened out once she looked down. The crowd was chanting "Jump nude!" I told them I'd drive first to give her courage. If I survived she'd dive too, in the nude possibly, that was up to her. I'm very concerned about my landing, so I swan dive from the tower (I read somewhere that the swan was the safest dive from a height.) Nevertheless I tumble and hit the water in a belly flop. The End. This dream had all the dream clich├ęs... falling, nudity, certain but not "consummated" death.

True story, btw. I don't remember dreams usually. It just another instance of Althouse/Quaestor synchronicity.

rhhardin said...

Dogs dream in black and white.

Bob Boyd said...

You felt the need to help Hillary assemble evidence to convincingly label herself as a big person, big enough to fill the job of POTUS.
You wanted her to pass the skirt, part of her public image, to other women as well. But in the process of (falsely?) labeling Hilary as a big enough person, you did damage to ordinary woman's clothing/image.

Quaestor said...

About the frying pans. Excessive heat, bad kilning, and/or general cheapness cause non-stick pans to resemble Europa. If you want a pan that will last a while buy a T- Fal. One good one is worth four or five cheap ones, but your non-ruined omelets will make up the difference eventually.

The pattern of cracks in that develops in old teflon or improperly fired ceramics is called crazing. The cracks in Europa's ice have been compared to crazing so that may have inspired the gallery.

David Begley said...

You owe dream money to the woman with the pink item. Negligence.

MadisonMan said...

Chick a boom

Michael K said...

I rarely remember dreams but I had one years ago that would have made a pretty good mystery story. In the story, I eventually realized I was the killer.

lemondog said...

Why sewing? Some rift in life in need of healing? (there is always something)

Why your acquiesce to HRC?

cf said...

Thanks to your good work of this blog -- day by day, Week by week, Year by year, stitch by stitch by stitch -- you have created an awesome burden for yourself: actual influence.

use it with precision, grace and care, now more than ever.

Godspeed, Ms. Althouse

JAORE said...

A comment above made me check out the Drudge photo.... Three dogs and an unidentified woman.

bbkingfish said...

"Oh, you think it's that good?"

This dream displays considerably better narrative cohesion than do most dreams.

Also, you have claimed recently to have had two dreams, about two different famous people to whom (and now I am assuming)you have no personal connection. I find that fact jarring, as I do that they both are in the national spotlight at this moment. Rather literal for a dream, don't you think? The subconscious usually appears more haphazard than that.

And we must consider the fact that it is mighty convenient for a blogger to be possessed of a subconscious that produces dreams populated by the very subjects of her musings! Amazing!

So, yeah. There are several reasons I think that this "dream" was concocted other than by the blogger's subconscious mind.

But, then, I read all your stuff with a jaundiced eye because I think you manipulate your audience to a degree that is unwholesome, so it is possible I could be wrong. I never willingly suspend my disbelief when reading Althouse.

But, I do think your dreams are incredible. That's not the same as "good."

Known Unknown said...

I had a very strange dream about a Chinese boy with golden legs and feet and a race car, and a prim woman very proud of her three boys "The Ribbentrop Triplets" who could "harmonize with nature."

All three proceeded to sing "I peed the bed" in perfect harmony. The woman was mortified.

Nichevo said...

I agree with the leftist drone that you have sacrificed all credibility and cannot be trusted, Ann. You should work on that.

Big Mike said...

You may want to lay off the caffeine before bedtime. Not to mention the Kool-Aid.

Ctmom4 said...

Sorry you had a bad dream, Ann. The answer to the riddle is that Hillary! was changing the size tag in her skirt so that when she donates it to charity and takes the deduction, no one will know she is really a 2X. Why a skirt, though?

CStanley said...

I would think that the tag represents something she wants to keep hidden. While it doesn't literally make sense (clothing tags can be removed and if they fall out there is no need to replace them) it does make dream sense that this is something she needed to sew in place so it wouldn't accidentally be seen. And it is LARGE.

Also makes perfect sense that she represents a failure of feminism to produce a positive result. So Prof Althouse is feeling she is better of tending to her own personal life instead of pursuing the feminist goal of a female president. The latter pursuit, despite good intentions, winds up hurting women.

Unknown said...

To Chelsea, in My Dreams

“You said they had found the secret of happiness because they had never heard that love can be a sin.” – Eugene O’Neill, Mourning Becomes Electra

I did not tell the world your name but kept
In secret what no government could pry
Away from me: Through warp and weave, I slept
With Chelsea Clinton, never asking why
It would not do us any common good to meet
Beyond the bed of Hypnos’ diligent conceit.

In solemn mood you came, a maiden cut
From Browning’s tweedy cloth, a Stanford girl
With melancholy smiles, your bolts of chestnut
Enshrined in flowing lock and plying curl.
(And famous Morpheus lets poet’s pen secure
For us alone obscurity’s own sinecure!)

And smarting as a tragic heroine
From Sophocles, Euripides or O’Neill
You came to me like dawn and stayed till noon
And time again had struck its shady deal:
“But hush…” you said, and sang instead of morning light –
Of origins of day and incense owls by night….

You thought adultery a privilege
Of presidents – their public moments struck
With blooming adulation’s entourage;
So bitterness committed lines of Greek
To your memory: “No god harkens to the voice
Of lost Electra – no, nor heeds the sacrifice

Once offered by my father long ago” –
Stained testimonies, dresses, legal suits,
The palace intrigue and tabloids’ ado.
Our hearts were met where head on breast refutes
An idiotic world, though wishes borrow time
And count them by the rhyming sense of reason’s dream.

You had your life and I had mine; we knew
The world was full of cares that cared for us
Much less than daughters for such fathers who
Inhaled Climene’s venomous nonplus:
I kissed your lips and winding Lethe spoke your name….
All politics is local in Elysium.

mikee said...

Althouse is voting for Hillary, as is the plurality of the country. We are doomed.

The dream? Battlefield prep. Hillary's campaign is using Althouse's head rent free already.