Our ways are not your ways.

My summer course this year, is a literature class revolving around the western vampire myth, from the 18th centure 'til today, focused primarily on the socio-political powerstructures and gender-roles of the genre. It's interessting and entertaining, though there is a lot more to read than I actually have the time to go through.
The past two weeks reading have centered on Bram Stokers Dracula, and we are supposed to analyze it with the help of overwhealming amounts of scholarary literature, out of which my favourite is Gilbert and Gubars The Madwomen in the Attic. Since I also have to finish up course-work and write exams next week for other classes, there's a heavy emphasis on studying in my life right now.

As a result, I woke up this morning after a very strange dream, were I was working in an office as the xerox-girl, and my boss was Keanu Reeves playing Jonathan Harker. After that, everyone at the office ended up at his mansion of a home, were we were celebrating a big Jewish holliday (this seemed extra strange to me after awakening, until I remembered that only yesterday I had a long discussion on the topic of Jonathan Safron Foers Eating Animals, and his Jewish background and how that had influenced his views on food, kosher, and meat in general). Throughout the dream, I kept wondering what on earth I was doing there, and at some point followed one of my "co-workers" to the front gates to wave them off. As I turn around Jonathan is on the front lawn, talking to someone, and does not pay attention to a big car that comes up the drive way. He calls over his shoulder to the newly arrived guest to just "go in and make yourselves comfortable" and then turns to all of us and waves us in to continue the dinner party. As we walk up the stairs, the new guest is standing by the door. As he looks up, we all realize that it's Dracula, and that this also means that Harker has invited him in. Suddenly Dracula runs off into the house, Harker chases him, and the rest of us, for some insane reason, run off after Harker.
Upstairs, I find Harker struggeling with Dracula, whose face is a mix between Gary Oldmans longhaired, eye-glass wearing version from the Coppola-film, as well as some hideously deformed, melting thing the colour of bruises. I stop, frozen, breathless, and look at the scene infront of me, and suddely can only think: Why is Dracula so PURPLE?

That's when I wake up. This reminds me very much of last years summer-course influenced dream, where I was avoiding a Baltimore druglord. I really need to start distancing myself more from my work.