A short summary of dreams I have had on the nicoderm patch:
- I am the blonde girl from Law & Order: CI, and I am a beach in San Francisco with Vince D’Onofrio and there is a lot of unspoken affection between us but we are there to rescue a skinny kid that looks like Wallace from Veronica Mars because he is scuba-diving for gold and will be killed by mobsters if he pursues this life of crime. We pull him out of the water and I almost drown and this makes Vince very emotional and he hugs me, conveying all that unspoken love he obviously has for me.
- I am at Niagara Falls with Stuart and a Joan Didion-like person is advising us not to jump into the falls on a slide like everyone else is doing because our lives are too precious, so we decide to go visit Stuart’s parents on the Isle of Wight which is right next door, basically, so we split up in Portsmouth and I tell him to call me when he’s taking the ferry but he doesn’t so eventually I take the ferry and when I get there, he’s already been there for hours and Shiv meets us there and her hair looks JUST like Ginny Weasely’s and I can’t stop touching it, and I want to go to the Spyglass but instead we go to some weird pub in Yarmouth called the Butler. I am still annoyed with Stuart for taking the ferry without me.
- Somehow I am roped into driving this annoying woman and her child to the store but along the way the car turns in to two shopping carts and when we arrive in the neighborhood of the store the woman (who is actually Bree from Desperate Housewives at this point) is freaking out because there is a red blood-like substance in the shopping cart and I convince her it can’t be blood because who would we have killed between there and here? But we end up at the police station anyway and now it turns out that I am Bree’s daughter from her undesirable first marriage to the portly detective that questions us, and I am his daughter.
- So me and my detective father go to the Met where there is a mosiac swimming pool and my friend Barrie is swimming there and she tells me to take her bathing suit as she is done and go change around the back of the museum, and she is babysitting her niece-in-law and so I go outside with my detective father and suddenly there are fighter jets and chinooks everywhere and they are bombing the living shit out of the city and the museum and the park at very close range and I can’t understand why as they all have American flags on the sides but everyone is dying and screaming and I run to a ditch and jump in it but when I look back at the museum I see Barrie’s red head on the steps and I see that she’s holding the baby and I want to hide in my ditch but I think I need to protect them so I start running but suddenly there are marching lines of starving people, disaster victims, in my way, and they are all praying and kneeling and I keep looking for that bright red hair but I can’t find Barrie and I get lost in the woods and when I come out, still terrified, it is 20 years later and the waters and the ground are still radiated and burnt but everyone lives in the sky and they don’t know what to do with me.
OH! And those are just last night’s dreams.




I keep having these dreams, night after night, that I’m at someone else’s party – one where I’m not exactly invited but I’m sufficiently welcome – and there are lots of people there around whom I need to behave myself, like my mom’s friends or old fuddy-duddy relatives or people from work, and I keep on almost getting into trouble by almost doing drugs or insulting somebody or taking off my clothes in public. The parties are never really very much fun and I’m too tense to enjoy them. Then I wake up, convinced that I’ve committed a fohpaw but not sure what it was or if I’m in trouble. Very relaxing.
Dan, are these Nicoderm dreams? Or are you just seriously repressed by society?
First, you smoke–ahem, used to smoke? I always thought you were the kind of smoker I was–strictly social, mostly when liquor and boy make-out sessions were involved.
Second, thank YOU! for coming safely out of the woods, I was getting worried the Catskills had eaten you and Stewart for dinner. Finally… dude, your dreams are RAD. I think you should write an experimental novel called “Dreams on the Nicoderm Patch.” And each chapter would just be short vignettes. I’d TOTALLY buy it.
Hee! Even if you don’t wear it overnight, I think you still get the dreams. Some of mine were truly amazing.
Obviously Dan is repressed by society, and Krissa?
Girl, Interrupted.
Every night I dream that I failed the Bar. And then, last night, I dreamt (all in one dream, mind you) that I failed the Bar AND had festering wounds all over my legs.
Hooray.
It’s not like I didn’t warn you about sleeping with the patch on. It’s hard not to, though; the craving for the morning cigarette can be tough.
Okay, I want a patch. And I stopped smoking in 1990. These are MUCH better than the dreams I get with Tylenol PM.