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Monday, February 04, 2008

DREAM: My Trip through Hell

I must have been visiting my parents because I was with my mom, and she was going to a creative writing class she was taking (something she might have done back in the 70s). I went with her to the class--she wanted me to come and meet the people. IRL I would not have come. IRL, she would not have even wanted me to come. I sat in the back of the class. There were only two rows of chairs. She sat in the aisle across from me. She went up to the blackboard to write down "my website" (IRL, I have more than one "website") for the class. She seemed very small as she stood up there. Much to my embarrassment, she kept getting the correct URL wrong. She kept writing it "www.eyebalm.com/silver" or something which would yield a big old 404. Each time she tried to correct it, it was still wrong. She was also trying to introduce who I was. Finally, I just spoke up on behalf of myself and said something like I've been doing graphic design for websites for 12 years, but my mom is confused with the URL, blah blah blah." I forgot how that ended. I think I ended up wandering around in an empty university building, like the dreaded inumanities buillding at the UW.

Somehow I found myself on the southwest corner of University and Midvale, waiting for a bus going south on Midvale to take me home (WRONG WAY!!!) I had gotten there via another bus, but forgot to ask for a transfer, so I was frantically trying to find enough change to pay for a bus trip. Here's the weird part...I had the car with me, and Stan was there too, so I said, "why don't I take you to work, then I can take the car home and you can take a bus home from work?" (so logical...he has nowhere to park a car at work anyway, so why should he get to drive it and leave ME stranded?) So I leave with Stan. It's still winter and we're driving through strange snowy areas on the west side that seem like they're out in the country, even out in the country somewhere on the west side of Fort Collins. He pulls off onto a yellow sandy dirt road that is not too snowy. It's very bumpy and really should be driven with 4WD. We go up a very narrow road that is like The Superstitions in Arizona, but sandy colored, not red. There is some weird canal with a footpath with steps that parallels it. We go on the footpath, but it is a very tight squeeze. There are men going the other way, one is carrying a weird seal/fish hybrid beast he caught. They are hunters and fishermen. The footpath now seems like it is in the interior of a building with windows. I look through the windows and see a gym and exercise equipment. I tell Stan I want to leave and go home.

I don't think I ever got home. Instead I find myself at Bitch's house. I'm talking to her (ex) husband, but then he starts smoking pot and gets in that "duh" uncommunicative, quiet state that serious pot smokers get which makes me hate to be around them. I get really mad because these people invited me over and now they're ignoring me, so I start to go off the deep end, banging on walls and yelling and making a big commotion. Some other guy appears, and he starts saying, "Whoah, what is going on? Stop it or you'll hurt the fish!" They had very large koi fish in aquariums. I didn't want to hurt the fish (just the people, heh), so I stopped banging on walls only on behalf of the fish, but I kept yelling and crying at the people and told them they were rude to invite me over and then ignore me. There were a couple other guys there, and they all agreed not to do that. But then they started right up again, so I start yelling at them again, and IRL I am seething and crying and flailing and I wake myself up and I can't stop until I come out of that half-conscious dream state. It was one of those horrible human interaction dreams where everyone ignores you.

I go back to sleep and have a really retarded dream that I'm watching some dumb 60s sitcom where people burst into song complete with orchestra (which isn't on the set). I was part of it, and they wanted me to do "Cleopatra" and the music from Bizet's "Carmen" is playing in the background. I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing...I didn't feel very spontaneous and couldn't relate to bizarro 60s hybrid musicals that only exist in the subconscious. WTF. it was stupid, but at least it wasn't nightmarish as the paragraph above.

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3 Comments:

Blogger Ann said...

I forgot to add this about the third paragraph dream. I wasn't crying and kicking and seething and flailing just because these computer-nerd types were ignoring me, but because while I was sitting on the couch being ignored, there was this creepy oafish guy (similar to the long-haired guy taking bets on horses trying to make the moves on Elaine in the Festivus episode of Seinfeld) sitting on the couch with me and he was hurting me. He kept pounding my kidney area on my lower back and it really hurt. I would scream and try to hit him and immobilize him, but he kept hitting me.

I have had too much to do with nerdy tech guys lately (in a customer capacity), I'm afraid it's manifesting itself in these dreams.

11:22 AM  
Blogger Stan said...

I think in waking life your mom would tend to get something wrong about everything she might say about you. Strange how parents have their own ideas about things belonging to their children, and part of this is normal. In your mom's case she is especially out of touch with who you are and the details of your life.

Please don't go to B's house anymore and stay away from dull minded pot heads too. Those sound like dreams inspired by all of the tech people we've had to talk to concerning my ongoing bad G4 karma.

That 60's stuff sounds like surreal retro wierdness - glad that's at least fun.

5:54 PM  
Blogger Ann said...

That whole early 90s part of our life...I wish it just plain didn't exist.

6:03 PM  

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