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Saturday, January 31, 2009

DREAM with Blush and Mean Jerk

I had four different colors of blush or cheek tint that came in a creme applicator stick: orange, bubblegum pink, red and dark magenta. Very bright and saturated and un-neutral. Not colors I would choose (for makeup that is...for art is another story). I was applying all of them artistically to my cheeks to try and make them blend well, but they weren't muted enough and I was having problems.

I was in an odd building with other people. It was sort of like a library, but I'm not sure what it was. I remember looking at a picture that was folded like a map of a bunch of high school boys. I think they were in some school play and they were all dressed like women. Very odd. I was getting ready to leave and there was a small black Pug. I called it Hieronymus, like my first Pug (who was fawn), and then later called it Lucifer Sam, like my present Pug, but I felt I had made a mistake calling him Lucifer Sam because he was indeed Hieronymus. The puppy was about 4-6 months old or so. I was getting ready to leave and take the dog with me, and then this arse came along and kicked it. I couldn't believe what I had just seen, so I watched him, thinking it was an accident, but then he kicked the dog again. I then yelled at him and asked him what the hell he was doing kicking a small dog? The guy was white, pale with rosy cheeks (maybe he used some of the blush in the first part of the dream...heh) and small but blubbery red lips. His hair was light brown/blond with sort of an 80s blowdried style. He also had sideburns, blue eyes and big ears. He was maybe in his late 20s. Odd. He was a real defiant prick, but no one I knew. I kept making it known to everyone in the vicinity that this guy had kicked a puppy. Finally a woman started speaking out against him as well. I was hoping I could get support so we could all together and kick his ass or something.

Then I turned the failsafe key.

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Friday, January 30, 2009

コンピュータ ドリーム

I dreamt that the language on my computer defaulted to Japanese...or Chinese. OK, I just checked both google.cn and google.jp, and I'm pretty sure the characters were Japanese (I don't know whether it was Hirigana or Katakana). What was so freaky, is I didn't know how to get the language back to US English (hell, even UK English would suffice...even anything non-English Western European I could figure out!) because all my menus were unreadable, so I didn't know how change it back. It was most freaky.

IRL, however, if this were to occur, yes, the text menus would be indecipherable, but icons are still icons, and all I'd have to do would be to select the icon for System Preferences and select the icon for Localization, or as it's called "International" , and then select "English," which I assume would be printed in Western lettering as opposed to Hirigana or Katakana, However without looking at the subtitles under the icons in my System Preferences, I wouldn't know which icon is the one I need to change the language. I guess I could get it eventually by process of elimination.

That would be a wicked April Fool's joke to do to someone's computer.

Reminds me of one time back a zillion years ago at Kinko's when the System font on the Macs changed to Taliesin--a pre-System 7 Mac font that was my first introduction to dingbats as it had sort of an Egyptian Hieroglyphic motif. I don't know if this happened as a result of a virus or a devious little Ken DV playing after midnight. Since the computers weren't online, although they did have unprotected sex via floppy, I suspect the latter. Boys.

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Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Whaaa?

Ok, explain the logic in Starbuck's move to stop brewing decaf after noon. Isn't after noon the time when coffee drinkers start switching from regular to decaf? Who drinks decaf before noon? Before noon, in the morning, is when you need regular coffee with caffeine. The later in the day, the more you'll want less caffeine.

I'm confused.

Starbucks sucks anyway. Their coffee sucks, you have to pay for WiFi there, and their employees are snotty party college kids in the Greek system (except one sympathetic guy who told me about their competitor across the road...Panera--thanks non-frat boy Starbucks employee guy). Panera's WiFi is free, coffee is better (it tastes real...Starbucks tastes fake), and I love their little souflees. All Starbucks seems to have (at least last time I looked) is sweet junk...no mini souflees.

There's another thing I don't understand, unrelated to the above.

Why hasn't Limbaugh stroked out yet?

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DREAM: People I used to Know

Strange setting--I was in a fairly non-descript house with a fairly non-descript family. There was a mother who maybe was about 30. She was fairly petite with short curly light brown hair. No one I know/knew. She had a daughter who was about 7. We were sitting on the floor playing with her daughter. Stan was in the house, but left the room temporarily. There was a big plate glass picture window covered only in a thin gauzy curtain. People could see in quite easily. I was lying on my back and had a short dress on, (IRL...I haven't worn a dress since the summer of 2002) so I'm sure anyone who came to the window could see my underwear, which, in the dream, was bright red in a boy briefs style. Although this family, the young mother, the daughter, and possibly other children and a father lived in the house, the house was nonetheless OURS because someone we used to know came up to the door looking for Stan and me. This was someone we used to know...The Sad Clown of Life. He was looking right in that picture window, and I'm sure he saw me, underwear and all, so I couldn't just go hide around a corner and not answer the door and pretend I wasn't home, there was obviously activity in the house and the door was open too, so he could just walk in. And he did. He had belongings with him as if he was expecting to stay a while. I knew when Stan came back to the room he'd be freaked out and wonder why I let him in. TSCoL starts telling me his weary story of his latest life event. I honestly don't know what happened, but later in that dream, or possibly in a different dream that sort of ran together with this one, I was going to buy a set of glassware from someone. I guess from an ad in the newspaper or Craigslist, neither of which I use. I have no idea why I even wanted this, but it seemed like a good deal because there was no set price. Then the person came to the door, and it was another person I used to know, The Disney Witch. (This person thought it odd I didn't have juice pitchers...juice pitchers are a pain in the ass especially when you have a small refrigerator and don't drink a lot of frozen concentrate. And they don't exactly keep your juice fresh tasting. What a freak she was. Anyway...now in the dream she's pawning off her glass collection. Another victim of multiple divorces in the modern age. IRL I would've been much more ruder, and when I found out it was her I would've told her I'm not interested. But in the dream I'm oddly polite and I'm considering offering her $40 for the glasses.

I can better things to spend $40 on.

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Monday, January 26, 2009

High School DREAM Guest Starring Charlie Sheen

I had this dream in the morning before I woke up.

It was almost like I was in a movie playing the role of someone else, as opposed to it really happening to "me." I was much younger, I think in high school. There was this guy, played by Charlie Sheen (?!?!? WTF? actor I never think about) who was a popular jock-type, yet at the same time a clueless dork. I'm in my bedroom, the same bedroom I had as a teenager, looking out the window and CS comes up to the window (which is impossible IRL because there is a big old nasty fitzer bush in front of it) and asks me if I'd like to go out with him this weekend. I say "yes" (seems like I'm never married in these dreams...oh, right, I'm "acting") and then he starts to walk away. Then I say, "Wait, what time? When? Where?" He looked sort of embarrassed as he slowly revealed the details of the date. It wasn't really a date on the weekend...it was early Monday morning, which I guess to CS still constituted weekend. 5:15 in the morning. We were going to see a movie. A Disney Movie. For kids. WTF. So, Charlie, I'm your post-weekend-with Hollywood Hookers Monday Morning Wholesome Date? I don't think so. I told him no.

But the dream doesn't stop there, no, there's still more high school-like immaturity for another segment. I walk into an expensive restaurant that has a long table seated with a bunch of "popular" high school kids (no one I knew IRL...these people were dream extras). I have a huge bag of popcorn, or should I say a bag of huge popcorn...the popped kernels were enormous, like 1.75" in diameter. I start throwing the popcorn at the table, on the food on the table, at the people. I'm circling the table several times throwing popcorn like rice at a wedding. The people are stunned and too shocked to say anything to me...one moment you're having a pre-high school prom dinner with your snooty friends at a very posh restaurant, the next moment someone is throwing cheaped bagged popcorn into your dishes, ruining your expensive food. It was a nice little tale of revenge, though.

I also dreamt I was in an airport because they were hanging art there and I was going to hang some of mine. I was hoping I didn't have to go through security because I didn't have an airline ticket. The airports in my dreams are always very convoluted and confusing and mall-like and very out of date, like the way airports were when I actually rode airplanes in the 70s...nothing like the way they are now when I only use them to pick someone up.

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Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Bathroom DREAM

I was staying as a guest at someone's house...I don't know whose. It's weird how I always seem younger in these dreams than I actually am, either that or the parents of these people I "know" (I say know in quotes because I only "know" them in the dream...they're not really people I know IRL) never age because they always seem middle-aged-50s ish, like the way friends' parents were when I was a teen or in my 20s. Anyway, I was using a guest bathroom, and dropped two hand towels in the toilet bowl. Instead of just pulling them out, I left them there...who knows why. Then the toilet automatically flushes, and I'm thinking "Oh no, it's just like those bad dreams I have where I flush clothes and cloth stuff and plastic down a toilet!" Heh. Then I drop more towels down the toilet, but manage to pull them out before the toilet autoflushes again. They're sopping wet and I don't know what to do with them. I'm trying to catch the attention of the "woman of the house" (the mother of my "friend") but she is busy and I'm panicked because I made a mess of the toilet and plugged their sewer pipes with towels and don't know what to do. I wonder why this is a reoccurring dream theme?

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Monday, January 19, 2009

Three Part DREAM with People I Used to Know

Three different dream segments, but I can't remember their sequence. They seemed to all happen at once, simultaneously.

Part 1: I was in my old high school, but it also had a college feel. I was part of a dozen or students who were not "selected" for something, so we had to stay in the school, mostly in the small resource library rooms and study, while the majority of the students got to go somewhere special. I was pissed, feeling I deserved to be part of the majority, so I started acting up, kicking things. I remember these balls made out of soft fabric, maybe the size of a soccer ball, and I was kicking them all around the halls. The other "left behind" students just stared at me quietly and didn't join in on the angst. I wondered what their sheepish problem was. I was angry.

Part 2: I was sitting in the living room on my futon, except it was pulled out from the wall more than it is, maybe about 2 feet. I was sitting with someone I used to know (SE WI) and we were watching TV...LOST, I think. I looked outside and the old guy's house across the street was 3 stories instead of 2. The third story had dormers, and I could see right into the dormers. I saw him sitting in a hospital-like bed, facing the window. It was all white inside. I saw a TV in the room too, turned to the same channel I was watching. I suspect he could see me looking over at his house, because a nurse came and shut the blinds.

Part 3: I was going to go with some people to an event, either in Chicago or Milwaukee. I think there were four of us, me, some young girl (teenage? 20s?) that I didn't know, some guy who had "asked me out" that I didn't know and didn't have an interest in but wanted to go so I went with him anyway--shortish dark hair, average height, white, nondescript, generic and a bit Republicanish, and someone else I used to know (FC CO - BO CO - MI MN). We went in two cars, me and the guy in one and she and the young woman in another. Both cars were small compacts. She pulled off next to where Bongo Video used to be on Atwood, and I could see her doing drugs in the car. I didn't want to be with these people.

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Saturday, January 17, 2009

Random Dreams guest starring Brad Pitt

The first couple of these dreams were during one sleep phase, the last one was part of another. None seem connected.

I was walking on a summer day around the south part of Madison (probably not somewhere you'd want to walk) near Badger Rd. I have no idea why I was there, alone, walking. Then the weather started to get bad and dark and thunderstormy and tornado-ey without any warning. I wanted to catch a bus, but didn't know when would come, so I ducked into a multi-story professional building (not exactly the kind of building that would be found around there) that was some sort of nursing association. There were mostly professionally dressed women inside walking around. It looked like there were stairs to a basement and I was wondering why they weren't heading down there for shelter.

I was trying to escape from something/where and was being aided by some guys, maybe criminals, and Brad Pitt. They helped pull me up some hole in a wall/floor by my hands. Brad Pitt then had to get back down to the other floor, so I had to hold onto him while he descended, supporting him by only one arm with only one arm of mine. As if I could do that. I don't know if I dropped him or not...they cut that part of the film.

I was trying to pour myself a Kahlua and tonic with defective dishware. I poured the entire bottle of Kahlua--which seemed like a gallon's worth--plus a small bit of tonic water into some strange punchbowl, but I didn't have a way to then get it out of the punchbowl (i.e., no ladle) without pouring the contents of the punchbowl into something else. Knowing I would spill everything if I tried to pour it into a glass, I poured it onto a cookie sheet. Then I started dipping small cups (Arabic coffee-type cups) into the cookie sheet to scoop up the Kahlua. Very odd.

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Wednesday, January 14, 2009

lucky me

I think I lucked out on this one.

What Pulp Fiction Character Are You?

It has to be YOUR way. When it isn't, you panic, but hold your ground. You keep your gun pointed and trigger finger ready, but you'd never really hurt anyone. Though you like being tough, feeling control, you often enjoy blending in and being part of the ordinary human race.

Take the What Pulp Fiction Character Are You? quiz.



This could be me.

I eat ceral sometimes

This is who I am?

What Pulp Fiction Character Are You?

Your inner child screams for cartoons and sugary cereals, but your adult tastes love the buzz of quality mind altering substances. Sooner or later, you're going to have to grow up, at least a bit.

Take the What Pulp Fiction Character Are You? quiz.



This is good, I think.

Huh...that's odd...


What Pulp Fiction Character Are You?

You talk fast, you think fast, you act fast. Stop. Calm Down. Drink some decaf and go back to hitting up liquor stores.

Take the What Pulp Fiction Character Are You? quiz.



So I didn't get Honey Bunny for female, but I got Pumpkin/Ringo, her partner, for male. Hmmm...

Tim Roth and Stan have the same exact birthday...

Actually I was hoping to get Winston Wolfe....but any male character in PF would be better than Fabianne...except maybe Zed or Maynard or The Gimp...

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No Effing Way!

What Pulp Fiction Character Are You?

You're sweet, but not naive -- though you like to be babied like a child at times. You prefer to have a bad boy by your side, but sometimes have problems understanding why he has to run off to take care of business. You want to settle down, yet deep down inside, you are excited by the surprises life throws your way.

Take the What Pulp Fiction Character Are You? quiz.



I specifically remember NOT answering with the answers that specifically were intended to give her as the answer...not that I thought "don't answer with that one...that's a Fabianne answer", but because it didn't apply to me! WTF!!!! Fabianne is probably the most bizarre character in any film and out of ALL the female characters in PF, out of all the female characters in the whole damn world of cinema, she's probably the absolute LAST CHARACTER I would ever want to be compared to.

NO EFFING WAY. Back to take the test again. This time, as a male.

I could've sworn I would've been Yolanda aka Honey Bunny because I freak out when shit happens, not eat a big breakfast. Sheesh.

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Sunday, January 11, 2009

DREAMs: The Contests

Unfortunately, I didn't have time to write down a couple dreams I had some nights ago. One involved a really frightening, oddly-shaped tornado that appeared over the foothills of Fort Collins, then the sky turned blue, the sun came out and the tornado got sucked back into the clouds. And there was something about a frog hopping around loose in a car and the driver hoping they didn't smush it with the accelerator pedal. The other dream involved Bill...he was in a garage like my parents have. He was in there with a lot of noise, like with power tools. He was ignoring me and I woke up crying.
Last night I had two dreams. First a little background on the first dream. There are certain parts of town here in Madison that remind me of certain parts of town in Fort Collins. Homologous parts, like a fin on a fish is homologous to an arm on a mammal. The intersection of First and Washington in Madison reminds me of Prospect and College in Fort Collins. A strip of northern Monona Drive (approx. between Winnequah and Dean) looks like Lemay Ave. between Pitkin and Dartmouth...west sides of both streets, areas are approximate without retracing it in person. Atwood near Winnebago reminds me of the Mason Street Avo's district. 2000 block of Winnebago reminds me of 700 block of Remington. And a strange area near Amoth Court reminds me of the area around Parker/Remington/Matthews/Prospect/Lake. Why? No clue. These places get muddled up in dreams and turned into these surreal Frankencities where I don't know which town I'm in. Maybe both or neither.
Anyway, in the first part of the dream, I dreamt Stan and I had won a house. Initially it was a really cool old Gothic/Victorian-architecture house that I had supposedly been lusting after for a while. I don't know what house IRL this was because of late I'm not really in one of those old architecture moods. But as the dream progressed, so did the condition of the house. I'm not sure what the contest was about, but winning it didn't seem like that much of a prize because we had to qualify for financing before we could get it. Not only that, it was a house that had been moved to a spot on Amoth Court...or was it the Fort Collins homologous region? And in the process of moving it, it had swayed in the ground as if it were a ship on the ocean. It nearly tipped on its side, and got soil all over it, then it tipped the other way into the ground getting dirty on the other side until it steadied itself and got its bearings on its new foundation. I thought it would be odd that Stan and I would be living in yet another house that had been "moved." (IRL we lived in a rental in Madison for a year that was a moved house before we bought our present house...it was an old 2-flat home, maybe 100 years old, that had been moved to its present spot only a couple years or so before we lived in it. All the walls and floors were uneven.) This house in the dream appeared to be a frame foursquare style in a rather homely slate blue grey color. And of course it was rather dirty on the exterior from falling into the dirt several times. The windows were the style of the house we lived in on Peterson Street, with the top panes having 4 vertical divisions. It was pretty standard and simple inside. It might have been a bit bigger than our house, but honestly, ours has more interest than this one did.
I can't remember if we got the house or not. I woke up. Then I went on to another dream, again involving a contest. This time it was a contest on the radio. I had mailed in my answer and they picked it as a winner, but another winner wanted to challenge me on another question. In this dream I was living in a house like my grandmother's. And there were in-laws there who all seemed to be Middle-Eastern or Afghani. It was most odd. They were watching TV and it was quite loud. When the radio station called me back for my challenge question, I could barely hear them. The question involved some sort of international political subject that I knew nothing about. I was going from room to room trying to get a good spot on the phone that was clear of in-law noise. I finally had to go outside to speak. Then as I was going back into the house some guy was going inside as well, and he didn't even hold the door open for me. What a dick. I came back in and was really mad at these "in-laws." Naturally, I didn't win the contest. If it was broadcast on the radio, the audience probably thought I was an idiot.

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Tuesday, January 06, 2009

Odd houses, Himmler's Doppleganger and Woody Harrelson, jerk art student

I dreamt I went into someone's house that I haven't been into in over 30 years. This person and I used to be friends but actually had nothing in common, and would have even less in common with now. This house, her parent's house, is painted black, which is such an odd choice of house colors. I prefer lighter colors to reflect more light into the house (for house plants' sake)...but that's just me. Her parents had an avacado plant, but I can't remember much else. Plants are dirty, you know. They were creepy...heavily Germanic and possibly sympathetic to certain ideals. This friend unabashedly told me "we don't like Catholics," proudly blindly repeating her parent's ideology, not even considering that, hey, I wasn't really Catholic, didn't like being identified as such as I was just forced into it because of my dad, and what if I was Catholic and proud...why would you tell that to your friend? When her family went for evening walks, they didn't walk or stroll, they marched. Her father looked like a bald version (not naturally--he shaved his head...and this was the 1970s, not...now) of Heinrich Himmler. Odd bunch.

Anyway, IRL the house is a one-story ranch. Half basement. But in the dream it had more levels. (I like multi-level house dreams even if it's The Scary Family House). One had to go to the basement (a full basement in the dream) to get a staircase to another level. The other staircase that went up to this level only had about 9 steps. Our first floor ceilings are 8.5' high and there are 14 steps going to the 2nd story. So I'm not quite understanding the construction of the house or where this 2nd level was. It was where the master bed and bath were. It was a very long room, like it would take up the full length of a standard house. It seemed very attic-like. In the middle of the room were the beds...they were most odd. They were made of a very thin futon-material that was on plywood that was suspended from chains from the ceiling, so they swung similar to hammocks. I tried them and they were comfortable. There were two of them, king-sized. Across from the beds was a row of windows. These were all closed up with interior wooden shutters and dark curtains. I said "if it was my house, I'd rip out the shutters and just have light gauzy curtains or nothing at all." I don't know who I was speaking to...I don't know who I was accompanying there. The other part of the room, which I assumed contained a bathroom, was higher and was divided by a short 3-4 step stairway, The door to the bathroom was locked, and soon "Heinrich Himmler" emerged with his aged mother who he said was 96. IRL, I don't think Mr. Himmler ever spoke a word to me when I was visiting his daughter. It was just that odd. Anyway, the ceiling was very high, maybe about 20 feet. It seemed barn-like. At the top it was rounded and had a row of small ~6" square diamond-shaped windows running parallel with the pitch. There were also some larger windows as well. The ceiling and high parts of the walls looked like they were coated in red vinyl or naugahyde. It was a very dark room. If I owned it, it would've lightened up immensely and it would've been cool. Why have windows if you're going to cover them up?

Anyway, I've been lax in documenting my dreams, probably because I haven't had many of interest. But here's a couple from this past fall that I didn't include at the time:

11.16?.08
I dreamt I was standing on the front porch of an older house, looking down the street of a row of older houses. These houses looked like they were built in the 20s...not as old as my 100-year-old house, but not as new as the house Stan and I lived in on Grant Street in Ft. Collins, which was probably built in the 30s. They looked similar to the homes around Jenifer Street Market, two story homes with a walk-up attic. (Remember Randy's house, Stan? Sort of like that, but not as big...sort of more cottage like and cuter...like that Jenny St. Neighborhood). We walked into the living room. I was trying to visualize what we would do with the rooms as I guess we were considering buying the house (yeah, right....we're sort of stuck here until we die). The living room was certainly nowhere as big as ours, and it would be very difficult to have it be a "living room" due to the way a fireplace was in the middle of the wall and sort of caused a division in the way furniture could be arranged. It was more like a "sitting room". I thought maybe we could make it into a dining room (ha! we don't even have a dining room now...what a waste of space anyway). I remember this room was painted a warm bright beige, sort of the color of our cat. I looked over and saw that the kitchen already had a generously-sized dining area. There was a round table with chairs with long backs that looked like they were designed i the early 70s. Everything about the kitchen looked early 70s...long dark-wood cupboards, odd wallhangings that had pictures of flowers and roosters in golds, greens and orange. I told the realtor I loved the kitchen (can't remember the realtor in any detail), but it was only in an ironic retro way. The house, although traditional and compact in style, seemed to be very expansive on the inside.

11.25.08
This one's way out there. I dreamt I was back in art school...it seemed like the undergrad studio @ CSU rather than the grad studios at UW. One of the students there was Woody Harrelson. WTF? Woody Harrelson? Why? One of those random special guest star dreams starring a famous person you never think about. Either that or it was just a guy who LOOKED like Woody Harrelson, or a character Woody was playing. Anyway, he was being a jerk, acting sort of high school and teasing, but not in a flirtatious way, just a jerk way. So I spilled some white acrylic paint on his shirt. He was watching me do it and didn't try to stop me, probably because it took him by surprise and he didn't expect it. He started to grrr..."aaaaaaaggggghhhh!" like he was preparing to explode and beat the crap out of me as the paint rolled down his shirt, but it never got to that point...I woke up or something.

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