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Saturday, February 28, 2009

DREAM About Seafood and Bad Customer Service

I dreamt Stan and I had a freshly caught shark that we were eating. It tasted nothing like shark, however it wasn't exactly a delicious fish either. It was maybe 2-3 feet long, and we were eating the flesh with our hands, pulling it off the bones. The bones seemed to be more like that of a freshwater fish, very bony, except not as tiny. The skin even looked like a freshwater fish, like trout skin. The texture was incredibly light. I can't even explain the wasn't like fishmeat, or any kind of meat. The closest I can describe it is this weird cellulite paper mache stuff you can buy at art or craft stores. It comes in a sealed plastic bag. You don't add water or anything like traditional paper mache, it's already ready to work with. I used some as an under texture in a painting; probably won't use it again for that. That's the closest I can describe the way the texture of this shark's flesh felt. Nothing like real shark. I kept eating it despite the fact I didn't like the taste much.

In another part of the dream I was eating oysters from New Orleans Take Out. IRL I have found pearls in their oysters in the past. Nothing pretty, just tiny roundish calcified structures. I always save them anyway, just as a memento of NOTO yummy oysters. But this time in the dream I felt a pearl in my mouth. I took it out and it was inside a strange enclosure. I took it out of the enclosure to reveal a small iridescent snail shell, similar to an tiny ammonite, except not as flat. Kinda cool.

I also dreamt I was in a store in a mall looking at clothes. This is a recurring sort of dream. Usually I'm one of the only people in the store, except this time it was rather busy. There was a store clerk walking around helping people, except she was really bitchy to me. I wanted to try on some clothes, but the dressing room, which was also a restroom, was dark. I asked her if she could turn the light on in there and it was like it was SOOOOO hard to do that for a customer.


Friday, February 27, 2009

More Dreams about Buildings (no food)

I had other dreams earlier in the night but I can't remember them. The one I do remember came before I woke up in the morning. I was looking at my parent's house from the outside. For the most part it looked like their house, light brick with brown trim, ranch style, but then I noticed some odd features. It was more of a partially raised ranch, as the garage was on the basement level, which meant their house had more of a slope in their landscaping. The central part of the house looked the same, but then on the opposite side, the south side, of the house, I noticed an odd window at an odd level. This part of the house too had the basement area exposed, and there was a window midway between the first floor and the basement. With the exposed lower areas and raised ranch style, the boxy rectangular brick quality made it look more like an international style house, like the wonderful ones near the lake in on Winnequah Rd. in Monona, not the horribly boring no-style ranch that it actually is. I walked around to that side of the building and tried to figure out what room that window came from. It was a high window on the lower part of the house, and there appeared to be a 2nd garage there. On closer examination, it wasn't really a garage, but perhaps a tool area, work room, utiity room, a place to get messy. Inside, there wasn't much of anything. It was painted white, but had a green cast to the room, perhaps from overhead fluorescent lights. The doors to the outside were part glass, but industrial, or maybe something from a route 66 style old fashioned gas station. Opposite the door against the far wall were white enamel-covered metal cabinets and shelves, and a sink. It had a very mid-century quality, maybe even pre-mid-century, predating the actual age of the house by 20 or 30 years. But it also seemed sort of Dharma Station The Staff (medical) Station (Wow, a mini-Dharma Station under my parents' house! Can you beat that?). The floor was concrete/cement, and sort of uneven and cracked. The size of the room wasn't too big...maybe 12x15 feet. I thought this would be a great place to have an art studio, and was wondering if my parents would let me have a studio there (the practicality of having a studio 1000 miles away from where I lived didn't seem to be of a concern in this dream).

I walked around to the front of their house and saw a "for sale" sign on their neighbor's yard (IRL, our neighbors who have lived next to us as long as we've been here are moving now that they're empty nesters...that must have entered into my subconscious). The price was on the sign and it said $264,000. I don't think either neighbors could get that much in either neighborhood with the housing market the way it is now.

On a non-dream related note, I just found out yesterday that our house was actually built in 1904. We missed its 100th birthday in 2004! I wonder why I always thought it was built in 1908?

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Tuesday, February 24, 2009

DREAM: We're Not Antique Store B&B People

Very Strange Dreams.

First dream I was possibly with my sister-in-law and her family. Then I was traveling up East Washington (between hwys 30 and 51) with Stan at night. A red stoplight comes on, we stop, and then Stan's alarm goes off IRL.

Second dream after I went back to bed, I was in an antique store with Stan. We were just looking around. I saw some old wooden dining room chairs that I liked for some reason. They were also comfortable, which lots of old fashioned wooden chairs aren't. I guess I liked the detailed carving work in them. They were of no discernible art movement whatsoever...maybe that's why I liked them. I saw the price, and for a set of 5, they were around $400. That was crossed off and I saw $70 each. (I could use a set of dining room chairs like I could an extra toe...completely useless and in the way). I said to Stan, "too bad they're so expensive." Then some guy who worked at the antique store stepped in and said that for "just that day" they're discounted to $30 each. Stan said "oh, really, just for today, huh?" in a very snide voice, which implied to me he was onto that guy's sneaky sales practice. (Cause you just KNOW it won't be on sale the following day, right?, we're in luck that we just happened to visit THAT DAY when they're on sale) I was sort of annoyed in the dream that Stan responded that way, however IRL I probably wouldn't be. Of course, IRL, I wouldn't be wanting wooden antique dining room chairs for our non-existant dining room, and an even more non-existent wooden table. Then, in a dream segment that probably came after the antique store, I was verbally ripping apart some young woman (18, 20 or so). She was sort of a typical cornfed northern Midwestern type, blonde hair, not too bright, very small-town-oriented. I don't know what she did or what she said, but it pissed me off in its ignorance. Whatever she said (and I can't remember what it was) seemed to exhibit mental illness. I was trying to use a "tough love" approach on her to make her realize the error in her thoughts and how it was bordering on mental illness. I was being a real bitch to her, though, I don't know why (what could she possibly have said to me?). I do remember telling her that "well, that's ok if you're mentally ill, you won't have any problem finding a job...there's lots of working people out there like that" (and that statement was not was truthful) and "Mentally ill isn't so bad because then you can be disabled and lots of people are disabled." I then told her that I'm disabled (I think what I meant in the dream wasn't disabled but disadvantaged) because "My dad think he's the pope incarnate, so I grew up having a lot of disadvantages." I then realized the error in my statement and corrected myself, "Actually, the pope is supposed to be god incarnate, so you can't be a pope incarnate because he already is." I was starting to get a smile out of her, which meant I was getting through to this sad sack.

I think I tired of bitching at this girl, because I went on to another part of the dream. I was with Stan in a motel room that seemed like a B&B (I've never stayed at one--we're not B&B people--go rent the Ben Stiller movie Flirting With Disaster and you'll see the reference)--they were discussing B&Bs on the radio earlier this morning before this dream...WPR fundraiser fluff). Maybe it was part of the antique store from earlier in the dream. Who knows. I was in bed with not much clothes on. Bill was there, sitting on a chair across from the bed. I was talking to him. Stan was there and I started to stand on my head on the bed while Stan held up my legs. I realized my clothes were coming off. I wondered whether to stop and be modest, or to let my clothes come off and let Bill see me naked. Then I woke up.


Sunday, February 22, 2009

DREAM: Dating Some Poor Guy I didn't Know or Like Much

Odd dream where I was "dating" some guy. He was probably in his early 20s, maybe about 6 feet tall, medium brown hair--not long, but not short either, not really that attractive to me. I have no idea why I was dating this guy. He seemed to come from a very poor family whom he still lived with, as did a bunch of his siblings. I went over to his family's apartment, which was on a 2nd floor and strangely only accessible by climbing bookshelves. In the apartment was a 55 gal tank aquarium that was full of exotic birds, like parrots and cockateils. Their feather colors were extremely bright and exotic, and not even colors that are normally found on even the most brightly colored parrots. They sort of were the artificial color of feather dusters. I wanted to hold one cockateil, so he handed it to me. It didn't want me to hold it, so it withdrew a foot. It looked as if it was amputated and only a small claw was left. It dropped to the floor. I toured the apartment. His older brothers, who worked 3rd shifts, were sleeping in high bunk beds throughout the house. The kitchen was yellow and extremely small, and not really a room itself but part of the main room, and it had walls built around it to "room it in" There was not much natural light in the apartment and it was very dark, especially the kitchen. I went downstairs through a back staircase and ended up in the entrance below, and the only way to get back up to the apartment was to climb a bookcase again. It was extremely difficult, and the bookcase had that plastic-covered clothesline rope attached to it. I don't know how I managed to get back up again, but I did, and toured the apartment again, tried to handle the pretty birds again, saw his sleeping brothers and the scary tiny yellow kitchen. I was wondering if he was going to kiss me, and I was hoping he didn't because I didn't care for him. I thought that maybe I could learn to like him. Seems like I didn't have much choice in that life in this very odd dream.


Saturday, February 21, 2009

DREAM: Back in School Again

I was still in school, not sure whether it was undergrad or graduate school. I had to get to a psychology class that I hadn't attended for...months. In fact, I didn't even know where the class was. I was frantically trying to find a class schedule to see if I could find where the class took place. All I found was a 2004 class schedule, which was obviously outdated. (What was I doing with a 2004 class schedule? I was 10 years out of grad school and 20 years out of undergrad.) As it usually is with these dreams, it was bad weather, so not only did I need to find this class, I had to do it in bad weather. Stan drove me, fortunately, and it looked more like CSU than the UW, especially the western side of CSU near Shields. And I don't remember whether it was in this dream or one I had like it recently that I didn't remember at the time (often these dreams have a reoccurring theme), but I went into a cafeteria like they had at the student center @ CSU. Naturally the buildings are always very convoluted.

Then I had another dream that I was surrounded by 2nd graders who were as big as me. They were very precocious 2nd graders, more intelligent than I remember 2nd graders being, but still not adults. One of those 2nd graders were lifting me up, like kids did to eachother when I was young. I was then thinking that maybe I too was a 2nd grader, but my adult mind was intact. One of the 2nd graders pointed out something to me in a newspaper...some current event, and I started talking about it in the way adults normally discuss current events, seeing how the 2nd graders would respond. I think they comprehended on a mature level, and then I assumed we were all 2nd graders in adult-size bodies with adult brains. Weird.


Thursday, February 19, 2009

The results might be...unpredictable

"The Lampost" could be an anagram for "The Lost Map."


Something weird happened on that airplane. There was a flash, but they didn't crash. Definitely an unpredictable result.


Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Weird House Store Dream

I was walking with Stan past a whole bunch of homes that sort of looked like they were stores inside one big mall or shopping plaza. The "storefronts" looked like homes with cosmetic "home" fronts, but there still was something "store" about them. I passed one home/store that had a large floor to ceiling window that almost looked like it wasn't covered with glass. I walked toward the window and saw that it was open. People inside told me I could come in and look around. I saw some glass sculptures that caught my eye. I got to talking with the homeowners/storeowners, and they told us we could stay there while we were on vacation. Then they left for the night, leaving us alone in their house. They were sure trusting. Although the house seemed stark and empty from the outside, as we progressed further into the house, it was a mess. I was worried that when the homeowners came back, it would be late at night and they would be drunk. I wondered if it was right of us to stay there, and that maybe we should be finding a motel instead.


Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Weird Plane Dream with Locke and Bike

Years ago I would have dreams about "The Fort Collins that only exists in dreams," which I could actually map out with a real FC map. Lately, I've been dreaming about the "Dream Madison." Dream Madison is also sort of hybridized with Dream Racine.

I was riding in a car with Stan in Madison, sort of around the west/south part of Willy Street. It had that Willy Street/Wilson Street old industrial/residential quality, but different. I saw a billboard with Locke on it with the caption "Jeremy Bentham", but that's all I could read. I pointed it out to Stan, but he didn't catch it as he drove by. Where the billboard was seemed more like around MM and 14, near Rimrock Rd. near where Matt lives rather than on the Isthmus. But then we turned north towards East Washington, and it was definitely the Isthmus. There was a plane coming in for a landing, except it was going the wrong way. It was heading toward the Capitol, not toward Truax field. Then it stopped and hovered in mid-air. It was maybe 2000 feet above the ground, just stationary and hovering with its landing gear extended, but there was another strange thing descending from it that was large and cylindrical, almost as large as the fuselage. Then a man got out of the rear of the plane (no idea who it was), and started speaking to the people on the ground below. It's hard to logically understand the next part, but it was like I was on foot or on bike, listening to the man in the sky, wondering what he was going to do. Then I realized I had progressed too far on foot or bike and needed to get back to the car, but then I was in the car again (I told you it doesn't make sense) and we were driving backward to get to my bike that I had abandoned on the road. Stan was backing up to it, but he didn't stop, and then he ran over it. I started cussing him out for running over my bike. He had the attitude that it wasn't hurt much (yeah right!). I kept cussing until I woke up. I had two cats on either side of me.

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Saturday, February 14, 2009

Strange Dream with Cat and Car

Ever have the same dream twice the same night? That's what happened with the first part of this dream. I dreamt it, and then dreamt it over, the second time it had a little more detail.

I dreamt I was with Tim and we were walking down State Street going east. We went into a strange apartment that was on the basement level of a modern building with a courtyard filled with sand and mud and toads. There were a bunch of little kids chasing toads and building sand castles and placing the toads in the sand structures. I tried to catch some toads but I was old and slow. Then one of the sand castles collapsed and I was afraid some of the toads would be trapped under the sand and mud. The apartment was Carol's, a friend of Tim's who no longer lives in Madison. I noticed that my cat, Apollo, was there, and I was wondering how I would get him back home. There was something strange about him, as if he was missing the back half of his body, yet he had hind legs nonetheless. I kept calling him "Persephone." (Persephone was a cat we had who died a month before we got Apollo. (This was the part of the dream that repeated...I wrote the more interesting repeat, not the first version, since that one was more bare bones). Jay, a former roommate of Tim's, came up to me and told me he liked the cat and if he could have it. I told him it's my cat and I'm taking him home. I was on foot and there was no way I could carry Apollo all the way home--he would surely try to escape my grasp. (Let alone it's like 2-3 miles to walk home...carrying a cat?) I decided to come back in a car. Then I'm in my minivan traveling in downtown Madison, except I'm driving backwards. I'm going with traffic, but the car is backward and I'm driving in reverse. I'm trying to find a side street to pull off where I can turn around and right myself. Then I'm on the hood of a truck or something, being driven down some residential country area where they're doing road construction. The person driving couldn't see because I'm on the hood, so they're running into all this stuff. All I can do is lift my legs to cover my face. Very odd.


Wednesday, February 11, 2009


"Oh, turn it up! I love Geronimo Jackson!"

Best line of the night.

And then she died. Sad. Stan said she reminds him of me.

I love this show. Yes, I knew it! Mrs. Hawking is Daniel's mother, who will be Ellie from the 1950s Others. Doesn't take rocket science to figure that out, BUT I did win a bet w/Stan that it wasn't Claire's mom behind getting DNA from Aaron and Kate (as Stan thought) and it was in fact Ben. I actually liked it when Ben got angry in the car with Jack and Sun. He actually seemed human instead of his usual pursed lipped, smirking, bugeyed, condescending, maniacal Ben-ness.

Foreshadowing from last week: Daniel asks Miles "Are you sure?" in response to Miles saying he's never been to the island before. I bet Miles is Edgar Halliwax/Mark Wickmund/Marvin Candle's son. First episode this season shows the man of many Flame Names putting on a Willie Nelson record (and it keeps skipping, which is metaphorical perhaps for all the flashes the 2004/2005 island people are going through) and it shows a young baby. I bet that is Miles as a baby.

One thing I have to say is that they do an incredible job casting people to look like either themselves in other eras or relatives. Ellie looks and talks just like she could be a younger version of the older Eloise Hawking. Locke's Mom as a teenager looked like she really could be the older Locke Mom. The youthful iterations of Locke and the young Charlie all really bore similarities than their older selves, Jack's Mom and Dad look like they really are his parents, Marvin Candle has bags under his eyes similar to Miles (of course we don't know if they're really father/son, but I'm just saying...)

Somewhere I read a theory that Thomas, Aaron's father, is Ben's son (which would mean Ben would have interest in getting custody of Aaron). I mean the actors really look similar. I don't know if this is intentional or accidental. It is interesting, though. And Thomas's paintings appear in Widmore's office. Strange.


Speaking in Code

Sometimes it seems like the world is composed of either Mr. Peabodys or Stimpson J. Cats.

People are either total techno geeks speaking their own language, or stupid halfwits that can't understand anything technical in the slightest and would just rather wallow around in their own barf.

When you try to bridge the gap and explain technical problems simply, from a layperson's perspective, the Stimpys can't understand you, and Peabody gets mad at you because your code is malformed.

Stimpy is too lazy to read what your written complaint is and too stupid to process it, whereas Peabody wants to pick apart the problems with it and scold you for doing something incorrectly (when it was probably Stimpy that made it wrong in the first place).

I think Google is Mr. Peabody, and eBay is Stimpy.

I'm just a pet owner who wants to have both cats and dogs, but they're not speaking to eachother right now.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

A Very Surreal Dream

Stan and I were over at Tim's. It was nothing like his apartment/condo with a simple floorplan. Instead, it seemed like an older place which might have been closer to the age of our home, which is over 100 years now. (IRL I think Tim's place was built around WWII, solid brick and concrete...used to be military housing) This dream-Tim-apartment had a much less open floorplan, everything seemed to have its own little claustrophobic room, however there was more space than his real place. I kept seeing a small Asian man (less than 5 foot tall, maybe in his 30s) walking around the house. Since Tim didn't introduce us, I assumed maybe he was maintenance. I needed to use his bathroom, and for some stupid reason I didn't shut the door (which is typical of dreams), and the small Asian man walked into it. The bathroom had two doors, and it was connected to a pantry or something. I cleared my throat so the Asian man would see that there was someone in the bathroom. He didn't really apologize, but instead said, in an accented voice that indicated he was an immigrant to this country, that he won't be very long and just had to get some supplies. Later I saw him cooking in the kitchen. I asked Tim about it, and he said in a very in-character Tim-like way, "Oh, isn't he great?" and then explained that some social services was supplying him with a cook to prepare special meals for him since he needed to be on a special diet. I then recalled that in a previous conversation (which never happened IRL) Tim had mentioned something about getting a cook to make his special food. I then learned that the cook was actually a live-in, and thought it most odd that I actually had a friend who had live-in hired help. I wondered how Tim could afford it, with all his medical bills on a teacher's salary, and figured it was paid for by social services.

Later, I was talking to Tim in the kitchen. At this point, he dream-morphed into someone who didn't look like Tim at all. The closest I could describe him is looking like Josh, a once-friend of Tim's that we had met a few times. But he didn't look like Josh either. This Timmorph was telling me that the apartment was getting too expensive and he had to downsize to a smaller place. He was in touch with a real estate agent who was helping him find a smaller place in the same complex. I was wondering if he was going to keep the live-in cook, or if he'd have to find a different place to live, or if Tim would have to fix his meals himself.

Later still, Stan, Tim and I were in the living room talking, and Stan had this strange small red conical thing. It might have been made out of glass. That's the only way I can describe it as a small (maybe 2"), red glass-like cone. I have no idea what it was. Voices started coming out of it. We were all amused and confused. Then Stan spoke into the larger end, and asked who it was. More voices emerged, and they asked who it was. Stan said, "It's Stan." Then the voices got maniacal with Disney Witch laughter. They became menacing, taunting Stan as if they'd "found" him. I heard a pug bark in the background, and I was worried whoever these people were that we were remotely hearing, that they were in our house. I wanted to leave Tim's to go back home, yet I was afraid that maybe they were near Tim's place and that is why we could hear them. This whole supernatural experience had me quite scared, and all three of us were in agreement that "This Myth is Confirmed" ala Mythbusters. What we meant by that is this: back in the old days in the early 20th centuries during seances, there were these cones that the mediums had where the voices of the dead that were being contacted would emanate from. These cones were probably closer to the size of megaphones, not the miniature red glass object thingy that we had. But in the case of the seances, it was all contrived. Undoubtedly there was some sort of string or wire attached to the cone and the medium's conspirator in another room was making the voices. Gullible people (the kind of people who nowadays fall for internet scams) back then actually believed their dead loved ones' voices were coming from the cone from the great beyond. However in our case, we were actually getting our cone thingy to remotely pick up voices from who knows where. Stan said "Those things really do work." This myth confirmed. At least in the dream.


Saturday, February 07, 2009

Two Dreams, One with Sawyer, One With Me as Someone Else

Thursday Night/Friday Morning I had a dream where I was someone else. I think I was a young male, maybe late 20s or early 30s. I had a brother who was a few years older than me. We were fairly average, fairly good looking, white, average hair color, average hair length, nothing standoutish about us. We lived with our parents (yikes), who were fairly average people in their late 50s or 60s. I HAVE NO IDEA WHO THESE PEOPLE WERE. I only remember a strange part of our house, which was the bedroom/bathroom area. There were 3 bedrooms and 1 bath each in one of 4 quadrants of a square. In the center of a square was a sort of hallway. I was in that central "hallway", and going in the bathroom. I felt very depressed, like there was some tragedy in my life. The bathroom had pink tiles. I woke up crying and found it very hard to stop. I had no idea why I wasn't myself.

Last night I dreamt I was in a building with a few other people, but for the most part it was empty. One of the other people in the building was Sawyer from LOST, and he was stark naked. He had also shaved, not just the Island beard off his face, but...everywhere. I was trying not to look...there...because it was rude. (and I'm not a fan of men shaving except for their faces) I was doing somersaults on the floor. I was excited. Naked Sawyer. Unfortunately he was joking around with some other woman, whom I was afraid was a, or should I say, the Disney Witch. I had found a bunch of her stuff lying around and she had been working on making jewelry...really bad unattractive jewelry. There were white threads, like loops, on some earrings and I was trying to figure out what the white thread loops were for, like maybe to from the ear wires? It looked tacky. Some of the cheap plastic jewelry was colored with makeup. It was just stupid.


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