Sugarplums and Serial Killers

I had a dream last night that a friend of mine had someone she really wanted me to meet. She said I would be excited to see her. When she moved aside to reveal an Asian girl, I did indeed get excited and blurted, "Utada Hikaru!" I thought I was meeting the pop icon songstress of whom I am a great fan, but apparently it wasn't her. They all acted offended that I would just see an Asian girl and assume it was Hikki because, you know, they all look alike. I tried to explain that it wasn't latent racism but that they really did look similar, but it only made me sound more guilty.





I guess it was better than a dream, well nightmare, I had a few nights ago. I was watching some version of Halloween with Ms. Jamie Lee Curtis, and the movie was just about over. The final scene was of a girl who looked just like Amanda Seyfried of Mean Girls and Big Love fame. In a sunny, wooded area there was a log with her head poking upright through a hole in the log. Another girl who could have been her twin leaned into frame and started kissing her. As the new girl left, I could see red marks on the first's face as if she had been lightly sunburned where the two touched. An instant later, her entire face was covered in Freddy Kreuger burns and she turned to look at me, terrified. That's when I realized Michael Myers was in the room with me now, and Jamie Lee Curtis was nowhere to be found. He didn't have his mask on, but he had a large razor blade in his hand. He started slicing the top of my left hand with quick strokes. It stung and left marks, but the blood wasn't flowing. He kept taunting me that I didn't know if this was real or fake, and it scared the hell out of me. Out of nowhere I was gripping over sized scalpel, which I then used to stab him a few times in the chest with no effect. He pulled out a snub-nosed revolver and pointed it at my face. I crumpled to the ground, crying now, knowing that he was about to kill me. That's when I woke up sobbing hysterically. Do I need therapy?