Last Night, I Dreamed I Went to Mandalay

"Last night, I dreamed I went to Mandalay again," Naaaa, that's Daphne Du Maurier.
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Last night, I watched the film, Rebecca, and ate leftover cold noodles and sauteed string beans with hot oil from Szechuan Cottage on York Avenue.
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After the Hitchcock film, I went to bed and had a strange dream.

I was in the land of my father's paintings and in front of one certain moon lit snowy scene stood

an angel with a head that looked very much like Elsa Lancaster in the Bride of Frankenstein. Her hands locked in prayer, she paid adoration to

Pee Wee Herman with Teridockle wrapped nervously around one of his legs. He wasn't there, but I could hear Charles Laughton's booming voice barking from far away, "Where the hell's my wife!"
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When I woke, it was easy to remember the dream's details, but impossible to get their meaning.

Was Dad secretly into Pee Wee and never told me?

Has someone been stealing the heads off my daughter, Alison's Barbie dolls and freaking out people by putting the heads on Christmas angels?

Should I stop eating hot oil after 11pm?
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Excuse me, I have to go back and finish a good cry, I'm watching Lassie Come Home on TV.
"I'm putting a light in the window tonight. Per chance, She's just gone for a long run."
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