Episode 1
Adventures in Panty Land

Dream Leaver

Far too often I wake up before I’ve properly resolved my dreams The pace of life just doesn’t synchronize with my deeper mystic pulse. Just at a climactic moment the alarm goes off or the phone rings or someone starts mowing the lawn.

This morning, like so many others, I’m jarred from a succulent dream. One I have attempted to complete numerous times before, with one of my favorite dream partners. I am leaping from the vine (I just swung on across the black river) onto the soft bed of jungle foliage where my soon-to-be-lover rests when… the door bell rings. For a few moments the door bell transforms into an exotic song bird setting the scene, but I’m not fooled long.

Stomping down the stairs, from the sanctity of my bedroom, I remember I’m only wearing undies. Rather decent, and flattering if I may say, but that’s all I have on.

“One minute” I yell in a scratchy, highly grouchy tone, while I run back upstairs to grab my robe.

I vaguely hear a man’s voice calling through the door. Could he be saying, ‘Don’t bother!’

Who is this guy? A cocky Jehovah’s Witness or hopeful TV repairman?

“Honey, if you want to convert someone, go the the mall, as for TV, I ain’t got one, so good riddance.”

I’m talking to myself…and half tempted to just jump back in bed and ignore the damn bell.

Ever the good girl, I stumble-run down the stairs again and finally open the door. First just a little, to observe. I observe the unexpected.

“Jeez Louise! Your….your….” my half tied robe falls to the floor, as he lets himself in.

“Now where were we” he says, taking my hand and helping me and my panties outside, down the front steps, towards the woods behind my house.

I’m speechless, not my usual chatterbox self. But he’s…he’s. I can’t even admit it to myself.

We come to a pile of leaves still forming a mound, where I raked them last year.

“This will have to do. What’s a slight change in climate and plant life matter. The feelings between us don’t vary much…do they?” His eye contact has me woozy, almost nauseous

He rests himself on the leaves and pulls me toward him, smiling hungrily. I love that smile. I’d stay in bed all day just to dream that smile. But…I’m not in bed and he’s..

Suddenly, my chronic complaining about my disrupted fantasy life, my broken dream sequences, and my pleading with the gods to set me free comes back to me in a flood. A flood of eye popping anxiety. What havoc might a dreams come true life wreak?

“Oh no…” my voice returns, “if you’re here…who else will come and when?”

Garlemon, my barely missed dream hunk, rolls on top of me just wearing briefs. I feel so foolish I could cry. Being here awake, with slightly moist and sticky leaves gunking up my back, the morning breeze chilling my legs, goose bumps rising, it just isn’t the same. Not even a bit. He’s just as stunning. But I’m not.

I’m groggy, and awkward, and too confused to succumb to the romance of it all. Or so I think.