plato caligula lucifersam apollo

Friday, May 01, 2009

DREAM: Bugs and Pugs

Bugs: Stan and I were in a strange building that was a combination of a mall or department store and a library. It was dimly lit, and Stan had brought his laptop. He was telling me that "the bugs were talking to him." I didn't know what he meant, but he told me he was talking to bugs, literally insects, inside his computer, or through some sort of messaging system in his computer. I though the was crazy. I then examined his computer and saw that he had connected to a bunch of different people's computer via some network, an each name that came up on the network, Stan thought was a bug. I was also looking at clothes in this library/mall...mostly jackets that were made with faux fur in colors like dark tipped yellow fur and hot pink fur. I don't know when I would wear such a think unless I felt like being ironic. Most of the jackets were cut too short for my taste anyway. Then the manager of the library/store starts to turn the lights off to shut the place down. I call to Stan because I didn't know where he had gone. He says something back, but it's indecipherable. I then yell to him again, again he responds and I can't understand a word he's saying, I say curse word, I wake up.

Pugs: I was outside of an apartment building and noticed a Pug tied up to a post . I thought it was cruel that someone would do that because it would be so stealable. I had Lucifer Sam with me on a leash. Then someone called me on the phone and asked if their pug was still tied up below. I guessed it was the owner of the dog in the apartment building (why they called me is anyone's's a dream, right?) I told them the pug was there and that I'd watch it for them. They told me they'd be down shortly. I then untied the dog from the post and started walking it on a leash. It was difficult to manage two dogs at once. Then the owner, female, came down and noticed that I had the dog and was walking it. I guess she thought I was stealing it because she reached her hands out to tackle me against the hood of a car. I thought she was approaching to give me a hug for watching her dog, but she slams me onto the hood of the car. Some gratitude.


Tuesday, April 28, 2009

More Dream

I remember more of my dream last night that I forgot to write previously.

I dreamt we also had a caged a gerbil/hamster/guinea pig. I remember thinking in the dream that my house had become like the Natalie Portman character's (Sam) in "Garden State." I love that movie.


DREAM: Two Bulldogs

I dreamt that Stan and I bought a French Bulldog puppy. It was so cute. It was mostly all white. We were later at a pet store and found an English Bulldog puppy, white and tan, and bought that as well, thinking, "you won't get a chance to get both a French and English bulldog like this."

After we get them home (which was sort of like our home, but different because there was a hallway with bedrooms on the southwest side of our house running alongside the length of the house, sort of like a bungalow style except bungalows are rather hallway-less), I start to realize that maybe we had bit off more than we could chew with four dogs and two new puppies. The next morning I wake up and realize we didn't put the pups to bed. Our old dogs were in their kennels, but the puppies had free-range. We had neglected to buy the new pups kennels! As I walked down the hallway, I passed a room where my mother was sleeping. She was staring out a window, and didn't seem to realize I was there. I went into the living room. The English bulldog puppy was under the couch, and it looked like he was choking on something. I didn't know where the Frenchie was. I felt very sad.

What were we thinking? It's not like buying a couple rare houseplants or something. I mean, yeah, in dreamworld it would be great to have 4 dogs, plus the financial resources and space for them, but even in dreamworld having 2 puppies at a time is too much. Of course, maybe in dreamworld we don't have to work for a living and can spend our entire days taking care of and training two puppies.


Thursday, April 23, 2009

Dream with Stamps

I just remember I dreamt more than I wrote down previously.

I was mailing a bunch of items as normal, however I was using stamps on all of them even though they had high postage (usually high postage items require DC or Insurance, so I take them to the counter at the PO). One envelope I had completely filled with stamps so there was no room for the address. So I tried peeling the stamps off, but I had overlapped some of the stamps so when I tried to peel them off, the printed part of the stamp beneath stuck to the backside of the stamp on top of it. I was really upset to see a $5.00 stamp ruined because of that (sorry, if an item of mine requires $5 of postage, it's also getting DC at the minimum, so I'm not going to stamp it). Also, some of my envelopes had stamps in multiple layers, attached at the top edge only on top of one another, so they hung like you could flip through them like a flip book, if that makes sense. I thought that probably wouldn't be kosher with the PO.


One Eerie Surreal Dream, with Special Guest Star, Jerry Seinfeld!

I was with someone I knew briefly about 15 years ago, and her daughter who was about as old as when I knew her (I have no desire to see this person again). We were in a large shopping mall that was very dimly lit. I started pushing her daughter in a stroller. It wasn't cumbersome at all, both brat and stroller were very lightweight...I was hardly doing any work (which is probably why I didn't mind). I pushed them into a restroom, and stood by the kid while mom went into a stall. When she came back out, I went into a stall. It had turned into a unisex restroom, since I could tell there was a big, noisy man in the stall next to mine. There seemed to be an extra door on this stall that just hung there and didn't seem to be useful for anything.

When I came out of the stall, it was like I was in the Student Center at CSU. I was trying to see if I got accepted into an art exhibit. I was looking through records and books trying to find my name. Finally I asked a woman in charge, and she gave me a sheet of paper. I couldn't find my name listed. I was disappointed. Then I went into the main part of the cafeteria. I sat down at a table, which seemed like a car (maybe it was at Jackrabbit Slim's) because it seemed to move. But maybe it wasn't the car/table moving, maybe it was the conveyor belt of old people passing by that was moving. Or were they standing still and I was moving? Who knows. But it was like a parade of Del Boca Vista residents. My parents were there too. First my dad passes by. He's facing the wrong way. I say "Hi Dad" and he turns to see me, smiles and says hi back. He's standing with a cane, and doesn't look as old as the last time I saw him. A few more old people down, my mom is standing, talking to some other old ladies. She's wearing an outfit that is like something Polyester Retirement Modern...kelly green and white color...totally not my mom. I couldn't understand why she dressed like that....not that there's anything wrong with's just not her. Also on the conveyor belt was Jerry Seinfeld. Poor Jerry, ending up doing schtick to an audience of his parents' Florida neighbors on a tray line in a Colorado university cafeteria. So were the old people part of the show, and the audience was the people in the cafeteria, mostly students probably? Or was the show on the tray line and the old people were his audience? Hard to say. Despite this very strange turn of events for Jerry, I found him quite hot! He looked like Jerry, except younger, younger even than the first season of Seinfeld. Like maybe in his late 20s...his hair was longer. He had some strange piece of material with him that was like a small quilt, but not a quilt. It had about 5 squares of colors across and down...the edges of the colors blended into each other. I don't know what it was, but I found it fascinating. I have no idea why he had it, why I was intrigued by it, or why I found him so attractive. I mean, I like Jerry, he definitely wins out over George and Kramer, but...I don't know, it was kind of weird. Anyway, getting back to the dream...I turn around in my table/car and see all the old people that were formerly on the conveyor belt sitting behind me as if the car/table turned into a roller coaster or open train (like the kind you can take in the Milwaukee/Brookfield Zoo...zoomobile). Jerry is talking to people behind me, who are my parents. My parents know Jerry? This can't be right. I say something to Jerry and smile, hoping he'll notice me. Unfortunately, he's more interested in the old people. WTF.

Hey Stan, did you know Jerry went to high school in Massapequa, New York? Chattapeaqua, baby! Our Terry Mattheson is George's Art Vandelay.


Monday, March 30, 2009

CSU Building DREAM

I was walking around City Park in Fort Collins, near the tennis courts (they have tennis courts there, right?) It was sort of morphy because it also seemed like it could be near the Henry Vilas Zoo in Madison (on the north side of the zoo), and also on West Laurel by the CSU dorms. There was a woman following me, so I stopped in my tracks and turned around really fast and she was right on my back. I think I might have cussed at her. She walked away. I was trying to get to the other side of the park (which would mean I had to go east in the dream), but in order to get there I had to go through some dorms or buildings. They were very metal inside, but not in an industrial way, but sort of a modern styling antiseptic way. The building seemed to take forever to get through, and I think I saw Sayid from LOST in there. A woman also ran into my back, and this time I turned around really mad and ready to beat someone up, but I realized it was a mistake on her part as she was carrying a humungous backpack that she could barely manage...she was very small. I exited out one side of the building and into a courtyard that was between buildings. In fact it was completely surrounded by buildings, but the courtyard was so vast it seemed like a "normal" outside area connected to the rest of the outside, but it wasn't. I would have to go through another part of the dorm, which was an identical mirror image of the part of the dorm I just came from. I stared at the long lines of windows and doors across the courtyard, trying to figure out which was the corresponding door to the one I came out of. I looked at architectural elements, trying to match them up. But before I could go through the other side of the building, Stan's alarm went off ending the dream.


Saturday, March 28, 2009

DREAM: Meet Julie K. Clark, Culinary Killer

Stan and I were driving through some unknown town. We were driving down a one way street through an older residential area that was interspersed with businesses on the corners, sort of like Johnson/Gorham. We went past one business and I told Stan to stop because they sold beads. It was a converted drive-in restaurant. It had screen windows that faced a covered carport with blacktop parking. It had cheesey wooden signs that looked like the kind you'd see out west touting Souvenirs.

We walked into the building and headed to the back where I saw beads hanging from the wall. I noticed some agate/carnelian beads that had really neat nature-made designs in them, like clouds and fire. It was inaccessible behind a counter, so Stan climbed up on a tall glass showcase to get it. I told him to get down, that we probably weren't supposed to help ourselves to the off-limits merchandise. Soon a woman came to help us. I told her I wanted the beads and she had a hard time reaching it. Then Stan got on top of the glass showcase again, but then the clerk got a device from behind the counter that easily lifted the beads off the wall, sort of making a mockery of Stan's monkey climbing.

I left the beads on the counter as I walked around the store to find more. They really didn't have that much bead supplies...a lot of the interior/non-wall space was taken up by cards and trinkets. There was a young man, maybe early 30s, white, average length brown hair, sort of squinty eyes proselytizing to people. I guess he worked there. There was music playing in the background...I don't know what it was. The woman who helped me get the beads was saying how the song would be good to make something out of. I saw some rainbow moonstone beads and decided to get those. They were almost Labradorite-colored, but they were labelled as moonstone.

I walked by the proselytizing guy as I looked at more beads. He somehow knew my name and asked me "Who are you, Ann?"

I said, "Pardon me?" Not understanding his question...shouldn't it be, "how are you, Ann?"

He asked again, "Who are you, Ann?" I then realized this was one of his "pick-up for Jesus" lines. I told him I wasn't interested in cults, and that I'm an atheist, and that I hated being raised Catholic as a kid, and as an adult, I hate these culty Evangelical religions even more.

Stan, who is sitting on the floor looking through the moonstone/Labradorite bead selections, starts talking to him. I don't catch what Stan says, but it's along the lines of religion. Cultboy picks up on something Stan says, recognizing it as Jesusspeak, and goes over to him, extends his hand and introduces himself. Unbeknownst to Cultboy, Stan was making a mockery of it, but Cultie was a little slow to catch on. I then say something about "meet Julie K. Clark*, Culinary Killer." I then look down and Stan is covered in black lace, in a strange goth girl sort of costume. Cultboy is totally bewildered, but he's laughing, realizing Stan was making fun of the whole Jesus movement. I wake up, and although I didn't really understand what was happening, I was laughing too.

*Julie K. Clark was an alterego for Stan many, many years ago. Long story.


Wednesday, March 25, 2009

DREAM: Wooden Ski Lift Thing

I dreamt I was standing in a rather posh room...I don't know whether it was a hotel lobby or what. Lots of marble. There was a man standing by a reception counter staring at me. I don't know why he was. I got an an elevator and he followed me. The elevator morphed into a Ferris Wheel/Tram/Ski Lift. It had a wooden bench to sit on. As this mode of conveyance started to rise, the low wooden door/gate started to roll shut. As it did, I realized there was no room for my legs, so I put my legs up on the bench. The whole thing seemed very precarious as we rose several stories high, and I realized he could at any time push the door/gate open and I would be vulnerable to falling to my death. He was stronger than me, and he could easily then just push me out. I was very scared, and don't remember what happened next.


Monday, March 09, 2009

Erica Chanel?

Last night I tried out an accord from a perfume recipe (not my own recipe). Just at first glance without testing it, it seemed to call for too much Frankincense and Vetiver in proportion to the other ingredients. I was right...the Frankincense was too acrid and the Vetiver too overpowering. Maybe I needed to use the Frankincense absolute that it called for instead of the essental oil...I only had the essential oil, so I substituted. I suspect the Aura Cacia Frankincense is just too acrid-smelling for these perfume recipes. It's almost like a really strong orange citric smell. I should probably try some from my favorite online companies instead, and maybe a different species besides Boswellia Carterii. Or an absolute or CO2. As for the Vetiver, I absolutely fell in love with Vetiver in the form of the Crystalized Essence from Eden Botanicals. It was sweet and earthy, all the best scents of soil and none of the bad. I bought some Vet. EO at Whole Foods in Ft. Collins, although it came from somewhere in the Orient and was quite smoky. I think later I got some Aura Cacia Vet. EO, which was Haitian, and not quite as smoky, but very strong and sort of molassesy. In doing research, it is recommended to get Haitian if you don't want that smoky quality. The thing is, all my fave EO Companies. online are completely out of stock of Haitian. I have tried cutting down the Vet. about 10% in my own recipes, but it still seems so overpowering even at that quantity. I'm not sure what to do at this point. Eden Botanicals states their Indian Vet. is less smoky than the Haitian, so maybe I'll try that. Meanwhile, Vetiver totally influenced my dream last night:

I dreamt I had a large bottle of what I thought was Chanel #5. It looked just like my long square black spray bottle. I smelled smelled similar, but had a very pronounced Vetiver scent. I examined the bottle again and it said "Erica." I asked Stan, who was in the kitchen on the floor doing his exercises, if he had gotten me Chanel #5 as a gift. I think he said he had gotten Erica. I told him I had asked for Chanel #5. He wasn't making much sense, and said that's all they had. It was hard to understand him because he was lying down and sleepy and sort of incoherent. It was sort of an annoying dream.

Erica? WTH?

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Thursday, March 05, 2009

Dumb Drug DREAM

Stan returned from the grocery or drug store and said "I got you more of these." I open up the bag and see a box of Sudafed. I'm really puzzled. I don't use Sudafed, and I tell him so. I'm rather mad because, in the dream, he had been doing this for a while, getting me a box of Sudafed every so often because he thinks I'm running low. I then show him a stash of maybe two unopened boxes and one partially used box of Sudafed that I am not using. I tell him to please stop buying me Sudafed, we'll never use it. He then says he'll use the ones I don't use. Yeah right.


Wednesday, March 04, 2009

DREAM About Pets

I had insomnia last night. I don't know why. When Stan got up to go to work was when I was in the deepest sleep, which is usually when I wake up (before I go back to sleep again). Sometimes in the morning when Apollo is accessible, Stan will bring him into the bedroom before he leaves and put him next to my face. I felt him do that this morning, but I couldn't pet Apollo this time. All I cold do is moan, as I was in that paralyzed deep sleep phase.

Shortly before I got up, I had a dream that I was looking at pastel colored tank tops and white shorts...clothes I do not own. The tank tops were the color of sherbet, one orange, one lime, very pale. They were pretty, but I've decided to stick with dark colors. Then in the dream I hear this crying, like a child or possibly an animal. I go outside trying to locate the sound. Right outside my back door is a black cat trying to get into the house. We do not, and never did, have an all black cat. Then I see another all black cat in the neighbors yard, not the neighbors whose all black cat passed away a few years ago, but the other neighbors...the house that exchanges hands frequently. TTBOMK, that house has not had a black cat as long as I've lived here.

I notice that the garage (our storage shed...too small for a modern-day car) door is open, and I find that odd. I look inside it and see what looks like our oldest cat, Caligula, in there, surrounded by other cats, mrrrowing, trying to defend himself. In my dream mind, I think it is Vladimir, the cat we lost over 10 years ago. Both cats are/were grey tabbies, except Caligula has white bib, boots and mittens, but Vladimir didn't. I pick the cat up, who then mutates into my Boston, Plato. I try to get back inside the house without the other mystery black neighborhood cats getting inside. I think it odd that he was cowering in the garage, surrounded by a bunch of cats, meowing like a cat. I put him down on the floor and then he immediately heads downstairs to the basement. IRL, our dogs never go to the basement on their own, despite the fact that is the where the motherlode of literpan treats are. I think they're freaked out by the basement stairs, as am I (I walk down our basement steps like an old lady...if you saw it, you'd know what I mean.) We only take them down there during a tornado warning.

:::right now as I'm typing this, Dr. Donna called to tell us Plato's test results ruled out Cushings Disease, but further tests should be done eventually to determine if his liver protein numbers are getting higher and maybe put him on a liver supplement. Weird that just happened right as I was writing about Plato:::

So Plato's heading down to the basement and I realize I need to put shoes on to go down there after him, so I head back to the bedroom to get shoes, which is where I wake up.


Tuesday, March 03, 2009

A Very Jumbled DREAM

I was with a group of young girls...I was supervising them at some camp. There was a restroom with changing stalls and toilet stalls, both with curtains instead of doors. But instead of having a bare floor for the changing stalls and a toilet in the toilet stalls, Each stall was filled with a wood and laminate structure that took up the entire stall and was about 3 feet high. One couldn't even sit down on top of it without their feet sticking out the curtain. So in order to go to the bathroom, one had to go on the structure. I asked a woman in charge of the place about it, and she apologized for it being difficult and told me we'll just have to do the best we can. So I just urinated on the wooden structure, hoping it would make its way down into a pipe. In fact, I did hear the sound of liquid traveling a distance, and when I looked down I noticed a galvanized steel pipe. Even though I didn't sit on top of it, somehow I managed to get it down the pipe. I was relieved...on a couple levels.

To add to the poor plumbing and design aspect of this room, on the sink counter was a stack of freshly made breakfast rolls and coffee. Not something you exactly want in a restroom. It had this country kitsch quality to this food dispensary area, with cheesey country crafts scrapbooking mom handwriting on a small dry erase board saying to please take one (smiley face, smiley face, countrystyle flourish).

I don't know if this restroom was attached to a house or whether I just went on to a different part of the dream, but I was at the home of one of the young girls I was supervising. It was cold outside, with a snow-covered ground. It seemed Colorado-y, suburbany. It was a suburban street, newish houses, no trees. I was standing in the drive way. I saw guys across the road and realized I recognized them. It was Russ and Bryan (graphics major from CSU) and some other guy who were all roommates back in the 80s. And they were still living together as roommates. In their late 40s...early 50s. Weird LOST timetravel thing maybe? I called out to them. They were about to leave, but they saw me. I invited them into the house I was staying at. The young girl's mother was there, and I realized I didn't know how to introduce her because she was divorced from her husband. I had no idea what her name was. I said, "This is Mrs..........." (long pause. This woman (who was probably my age or younger because her daughter was tweenish, but she seemed older) looked at me coldly and said "I still have the same name." But I didn't know what it was. I started squirming and feeling very awkward. I squirmed myself awake, and then had to tell myself it's only a dream and to forget about it.


Sunday, March 01, 2009

Overnight Sleepover DREAM plus a little background

I dreamt Stan and I were staying in a room, like someone's family room. We had to sleep overnight there. We had to sleep on the floor. I saw a couch that turned into a rol-out bed, like the one we had in our first apartment*. I thought at least one of us could sleep on might be more comfortable than the floor. Then I saw an old couch like the one my grandmother stored in her dining room area**. Even though the cushions were flat, that still might be moe comfortable than the floor. Then somehow I spilled some oil on my laptop. I was trying to dab it up with a towel, but instead of absorbing into the towel, it just kept spreading across my laptop. It kept growing in size. I woke up, freaked out about my laptop, and I had to tell myself it was only a dream.

*This apartment was in the heart of the city in a fairly rundown old red brick two-story duplex converted into a fourplex, but at the time, anything was better than living with my parents. Stan and I were in our final year in college. The apartment came furnished with a double mattress and box spring (no bed frame) and a gawd-awful gold-colored mid-century sleeper couch. It was convenient that there were two places to sleep since my parents freaked out if they thought I actually slept with Stan. They were so naive and easily placated by telling them "no, we weren't." We slept on the mattress, but not the sleeper couch. That thing was pretty uncomfortable, but not as bad as one sleeper couch we slept on as guests in someone's house once...that thing had that bar going down the center that would kill anyone's back, as it did Elaine's in that famous Seinfeld episode where she had to take muscle relaxants for the pain. Stella! Stellllaaaaa!

**This couch was like something out of the early last century...20s? 30s? Who knows, maybe it was as old as my grandmother's house, which was built around 1910 or so. It was made with a maroon velvet fabric with a large floral print. The style was rounderd, not angular like the one that replaced it. In its day, I'm sure it was gorgeous, but by the time it reached my era, it was a collapsed shell of its former self. The cushions were all flat, yet oddly puffy at the same time. It was not a sittable couch, but served as storage for afghans and linens and was moved to the dining room where it was out of the way. It had been replaced by a mid-century (1950s?) green angular couch and chair set in the living room. which was more stylish for the geometric modern times, but felt out of place in a bungalow with floral wallpaper and built in wooden cabinets with leaded glass doors.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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 and, 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.


Wednesday, January 28, 2009

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. 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.


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 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 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.


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?


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.


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.


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 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.


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, 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:

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 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.

This one's way out there. I dreamt I was back in art 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.


Saturday, November 08, 2008

DREAM: Buildings and Idiots

First part of the dream I remember seeing buildings like some of the old school buildings in my neighborhood with taped up windows. The windows all had brown paper covering them on the inside, like maybe they were doing mass painting inside or something. Although the buildings seemed like the old school buildings in Madison, the setting seemed like Fort Collins, especially around the Remington/Plum area. (IRL, FC has no old school buildings left...they've all been demolished and rebuilt with the exception of my old high school, but it's not a high school anymore). I'm glad Madison values its OLD buildings, however Madison is a little too bulldozer happy with mid-century modern buildings, unfortunately. Some cool architecture is no more. (According to someone who talked to Stan, those buildings are supposedly "un-updatable", unlike old buildings which have structural integrity)

Second part of the dream Stan and I went to some administrative/city building to register (to vote?!?) or something. We sat down at a desk with a woman, dark hair, blue eyes, maybe in her early thirties or late 20s. The woman kept asking us questions to make sure we were "legitimate." She asked if my husband could vouch for the fact that something on my application form was legitimate. I vouched for him as well. Then she asked me something about my former work history, specifically working at Kinko's in FC. I told her that I would typeset resumes and brochures, usually 1-page items for customers using Mac computers. She looked a little suspiciously at me and said that people can do that themselves, insinuating that I was making up my job. She kept talking and then I interrupted her and said, "let me explain." Her eyes got really big, and her expression said "how dare you interrupt me!" I told her that I worked there back in the 80s (she was just a young kid...what would she remember?) when maybe 10% of the population had a personal computer. Now about 90% have computers (I dont know the actual stats...that's just what I said in the dream), so I had to do the work for them.

She was a real idiot. I can't remember how the dream ended. Sometimes I think when I'm dealing with these Palin-voting dolts in these dreams my automatic wake reflexes kick in.


Friday, November 07, 2008

Cribbage Board DREAM

Stan and I were with some other people--I don't know who--and Stan said he had to get back home because he had to take some things out of the trash. I asked him what he needed to get out of the trash, and he looked very sheepish and he confessed that he had "thrown the cribbage boards away." IRL, we have one cribbage board that is Stan's. My parents have one that is similar, but they still have it, not me. But in the dream, there were two cribbage boards. And Stan threw both of them away. Without asking me. Why the hell would you throw away a wooden cribbage board? Granted, we never have time for games anymore, but still...maybe some day when we're old and decrepit, that's all we'll want to do. So I let him have it. I reamed him a new one in front of these people who I didn't know, telling him never, ever throw away anything again without asking me if I want it. He looked really embarrassed for what he did. Then I was looking at the cribbage boards, trying to figure out which pegs belonged to which board. The pegs didn't fit in the holes very well.


Although completely unrelated, I somehow see this dream as symbolic for something that happened the other day. Stan told me his supervisor was disappointed because his wife really liked Palin (his supervisor, like us, are Obama supporters). I asked Stan if he told his boss that his wife (meaning me) couldn't stand Palin from day one. No he didn't. He didn't say anything about me. But isn't that what you do if you're in a conversation about a wife's politics, (especially if it's your boss), you say, "well fortunately, my wife doesn't like her," or "well, fortunately my wife and I are pretty much in sync when it comes to poltiics?" Not to make your boss feel bad, but to make yourself look good? So your boss doesn't think you also married a moron? Or so that he doesn't think all women don't care that a potential veep doesn't know Africa is a continent, not a country?

I just wish Stan would've mentioned it is all. It's not that big a deal, certainly not as big a deal as throwing away cribbage boards without asking me, but still.


Tuesday, November 04, 2008

Avalanche DREAM

I dreamt I was in a very strange cabin on a mountainside. It's hard to explain, but it was a small wood structure that was sheltered by a corrugated aluminum or steel structure. It was like the reverse opposite of what Stan's aunt's "cabin" is, which is actually a trailer that is sheltered by a wooden structure (don't ask). Unlike Stan's aunt's "cabin", which gives us an extremely creeped-out feeling every time we go up there (so we make every excuse why not to go up there), this little cabin initially had a nice cozy feel. There was a window that I looked out onto the mountain ridge...very scenic. It started to precipitate. A white cloud was descending down the mountains. It got thicker and thicker and I realized it was snowing...very hard. I had the radio on and they were saying something about an avalanche. Then it dawned on me, the thick snow I was seeing was not descending from the sky, but from the mountains. I was scared because if the cabin was covered in show, my oxygen would be cut off. I stepped out of the cabin and into a porch area that was covered by the metal structure. I realized that is why they put up the metal protect the cabin from avalanches. There was snow everywhere. I was digging out of the snow with my bare hands until I could see sky. It was probably about 7 feet of snow on the ground. I was worried because I was all alone there with my pets (don't know where Stan was) and I didn't want to die like that.


Monday, November 03, 2008

Disturbing Typesetting DREAM

I dreamt I went back to work at Depressions. Most all of the people who worked there in the early 90s were still there...there were some new faces, but they looked similar to people who used to work there. There was a new "job" on my desk, with typesetters markup specs. IRL, the type would've already been "in the system" (probably input by keyers by some offshore company, although I do remember having to type a lot myself when I first started, before the offshore contracting became big and destroyed jobs for typists in this country). However in the dream, I not only had to layout the content on the MUM (Make Up Master), but also input the text on the Pentas. The strange thing was that they were having me use their old systems, not the Macs. When I left in the mid 90s IRL, they were doing a lot more w/Macs, and when they hired me in 1989, it was because I knew Macs and they wanted to go that direction.

Since it's been like...13 years since I worked on a Penta or a MUM, I had no idea how to get started, so I had to ask someone who worked there. We were strangely silent to eachother, like she didn't care how I'd been or what I'd been doing all these years since I'd left. I wanted to ask about her, but didn't now what to ask. (How about, "how come you're still working here when the company went under a few years ago?")

Even though nothing really terrible happened, I found this dream highly disturbing due to the incredible realism, down to the typesetting markup on the pages. I was tossing and turning after that dream, and when I fell back to sleep, I had another disturbing dream. I was spending the night at some other female's house, with a few other women. I don't know who they were or why I was there. I wanted to leave and go home to Stan. I remember depositing some dirty clothes in what I thought was a hamper, but then I realized I had put them in a child's training toilet and I didn't know how to get them back out.


Tuesday, September 09, 2008

DREAM with Weird Restaurant

I was supposed to meet Stan at some Mexican restaurant in a mall. It looked similar to this vacant spot that used to house some generic local TGIMcFunsters place that went under in one of the malls that I go to.* It had black glass surrounding the restaurant so one could only see inside a few inches. As I walked into it, it had a large waiting area that seemed like a living room with maroon velvet apholstery (sp?). I saw Stan sitting on a sofa with some anonymous people. Behind him was a bookcase that contained books or VHS-sized containers. He said we could pick out a movie and watch it while we eat dinner. I guess the concept of this odd restaurant was they rented movies, you take it to your own private dining room (like a Japanese restaurant tea room) and watch a movie while you eat dinner. Problem is, there wasn't a lot of selection of movies. Stan picked out a LOST episode, but I said we could watch that any time at home. Then he picked out something Disneyish. How odd and out of character.

*Yes, "malls that I go to" seems like an odd statement coming from someone mallphobic such as myself, however because there is a bead shop in this mall that offers a good discount on beads for tax exempt sales and is relatively free of craftee mommee gaudee swarovskee crystal hobbee types, and because sometimes you can't purchase everything you need online, business and artistry require I make trips to a...mall. Another mall that requires visits contains Madison's only Apple Store. It's not like I enjoy hanging out at the Apple Store to view all the latest non-essential gadgetry like iphones and ipods with a bunch of ipodpeople, but computers break, shit happen, and I have to go to the Apple Store, know what I mean?


Monday, September 08, 2008

Wake Up Crying DREAMS

I was in a basement...not a basement I recognized. It was fairly big with a fairly large bathroom that was centrally located, but the bathroom didn't have any solid walls. There were 2x4s from which hung cheesey fabric and curtains to give some privacy, but there were gaps. In the main part of the basement there were some people which I was trying to get away from. There was some small child/person with a triangular-shaped head, very bony, malnourished and looked like it was suffering from many congenital diseases which also affected him mentally....sort of like the kid from Deliverance...but not with those squinty eyes, and smaller, much more disabled. That's the closest I can describe, which is still pretty far from the mark. I needed to use the bathroom, but before I could, Stan comes into the area surrounding the bathroom, carrying the disabled kid, and bringing some other people with him. I told him I need to use the bathroom, but he didn't get that I couldn't just close the door and have privacy, that people could see through the curtains. I kept trying to escape him and the boy, but he kept showing up. I was getting very frustrated, and finally leave that part of the basement and find another area which was supposedly Stan's (adopted) mom's bedroom area. It was huge....the entire area was like the size of a furniture showroom. There were so many rooms within rooms. I kept going though doors and finding other rooms, trying to find her bathroom. Her bed was up on a platform with steps. I finally found a large door that swivelled....sort of like those hidden doors in silly movies that are disguised by the bookcase and the door swivels and you end up on the other side...except it wasn't silly mystery movie was like cool architecture sort of stuff. I forget whether I finally use the bathroom, but the dream takes a strange turn where I'm sitting in a chair and Stan is with me. There's a Buddhist Monk (like Caine) who has these rings that he is showing me. I remember a Rhodonite ring that has two set Rhodonite stones, and one stone that is dangling from it like a set drop pendant. It was a very cool design. I forget what the monk is saying, but it is sort of like a spiritual fortune telling. He is laying the rings on Stan's lap. Then Stan gets up and leaves, like he doesn't want to hear any more either of the Buddhist fortune tales (ha!) or of any jewelry sales pitch. The jewelry sort of sticks to his pant legs and falls to the ground. This makes me sad that he doesn't want to get the jewelry for me. The monk says to him something like "don't you want to buy the jewelry for the pretty lady?" or somesuch. This made me cry and I woke up crying.

And if that wasn't bad enough, I went back to sleep and dreamt I was still in graduate school and hadn't finished (oh horrors). I had feared I hadn't preregistered for the next semester correctly, so I called them at some office to verify my status and they said I was all set up and ready to go. So later I go to some registration window, give them my name, but they have no record of me. I told them what the person on the phone had said, so they looked into the matter and came back and told me that the person was new on the job and didn't know what she was talking about. Then instead of helping me solve the matter, they just let me be. I was railing against them and again, woke up crying.


Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Traditional Nightmare DREAM

We had a large 55 gal. aquarium that was filled with a few strange creatures that sort of looked like large smooth-skinned caterpillars. As I looked through the cage these creatures mutated into lizards, and then larger lizards and then larger and larger until a couple lizards nearly filled up the entire cage. They were about the size of a monitor lizard. These lizards looked vicious, with very large rose thorns, except proportionately larger. I wanted to get the large lizards out of the cage so they wouldn't crowd the smaller ones. Stan was trying to grab them, but they kept lunging toward our cat, Apollo, and I was afraid that they could grab him in their jaws. We pulled one of the lizards out and our Boston Terrier, Plato, started to sniff its head. I was afraid the lizard would hurt Plato too. Then Stan took the lizards outside. He was just going to leave them out there, exposed to the Wisconsin elements. We had a sliding glass door, which we do not have on our house IRL, and I had accidentally left it open and Apollo got out. He was just hanging out in the yard, but I was scared that I had been so negligent. We put him back him, and my body was filled with terror from these very scary lizards and how they were endangering the well-being of my animals.

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Friday, August 08, 2008

Desmond Dream!

Finally I had a dream with Desmond! This one had an incredible amount of LOST elements in it, however they were very surreal and much different than actual LOST elements. I dreamt we were in a basement-like building (the Hatch?) that was in the antarctic (the Listening Station with the Portuguese-speaking guys in contact with Penny?) and only accessible by going underwater (the Hydra?). We were going to have to stay there for a few months, just me and him, and we were trying to figure out where we were going to sleep. There wasn't a lot of stuff looked a lot like my parents' laundry room except larger and starker and scarier. There was a duct that was a couple feet wide, and we figured we would have to sleep on that because we would get heat that way since it would be very cold. We would also have to sleep together (on a 2-foot wide duct). I was hoping he would get excited about being down there with me for such a long time and not be thinking about Penny all the time.

In the dream there was also something about eating out of a bowl (that we'd have to share) that had a dark blue ceramic glaze on it.

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Monday, July 21, 2008

DREAM: Cast Away Party

I was in an old building like a library, walking down an open staircase. I was holding onto the rail on the right hand side so i wouldn't slip. A woman (dark haired, dark eyed, white and bitchy looking) was coming up on my side of the stairs. She would not move over, even though she probably should've (she was on the "wrong" side of the road, so to speak, unless we were in England). I continued to descend the stairs and practically ran right through her. She gave me a crusty look. I said I was sorry. There were a pair of shoes on the stairway which were black with thick high heels. Somehow I knew these were the bitch's, and I kicked them down the stairs. Then, because I did this, (and I don't understand this part), I was granted access to be a part of a discussion talking about who to cast (like in a movie or on tv) as the presidential nominees. There was a lot of blah blah back and forth and I somehow realized that was WPR playing in the background IRL. There was some guy who resembled John Travolta who kept lobbying for his preference of John McCain being portrayed as an idea or concept instead of by an actual actor. (WTF?) I was trying to tell them that I wanted John McCain to be played by the cartoon character Mr. Magoo. But I never got my say.

I don't remember us discussing Barack Obama.


Friday, July 11, 2008

Bad Dream

IRL I woke up in the middle of the night at an hour I usually don't wake up at. I was breathing erratically and crying from a bad dream. I don't know if that's what woke me up, or it was the storm. I got up anyway because the storm was loud and I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. And I recorded this dream.

It was one of those horrible feelings like I was still in school, not even college, but junior high especially the way the people treated me. I was looking at a map because Stan and I were driving up to LaCrosse for dinner. It was winter, and it was a similar feeling like driving up to Appleton to be part of an art opening (which happened IRL years ago). The route on the map looked like it went up north to Appleton, not northwest to LaCrosse. Why would we drive to LaCrosse...or Appleton just to eat dinner? Weird. It was also like those dreams where we drive NW of Fort Collins and it's snowing...that reoccurring dream. Anyway, I'm not sure if we arrived at our destination or not, but we're in a restaurant and we come across a friend (who IRL has been the cause of a grief for me in the past few week...although I don't think *he* knows that). In the dream *he* was acting extremely stuck up to me. He was in the restaurant with a hetro they were the new Ann and Stan, except younger and more fun and not as serious as the real A&S are now. And with shorter brunette hair. I could not engage *him* in conversation. *He* would not talk to me. There was something about a scarf in the dream, but I can't remember what. Stan was able to talk to *him* a little. I asked Stan what was wrong with *him* and he said that *he* wanted to not be bothered by me, like I was soooo bothersome. *He* was sitting at a big booth with this couple and there was plenty of room for Stan and I to join *him,* but *he* didn't want us there (it was soooo 6th grade), so Stan and I got a booth by ourselves. I was really upset because *he* was being so non-communicative, but really upset because it was something about ME and I didn't know what I had done! I told Stan that if I were in his shoes, I would be defending me in front of *him*, but Stan was pretty indifferent about it, which made me feel even worse because he was supposed to be chivalrous and defend and support his woman. It's not that Stan was on *his* side, it's just that Stan didn't care.

This whole dream is really symbolic for stuff happening IRL. Substitute the het couple for a boyfriend perhaps, substitute the junior high attitude for prescription drug addiction and a deteriorating mental condition, substitute adolescent immaturity for premature senility. Who knows, I woke up just bursting in tears.

I don't know why I'm so upset, but it pisses me off. *He* says *he's* afraid we're drifting apart, but we're not the ones who are drifting, *he* is. We're always here, where is *he*? We're not the ones not answering our phone. We're the ones who take initiative, we're the ones who called on *his* birthday, not *him* on mine. Is it the drugs? Is it the child who never became a man but who is instead becoming an old man? Why do I torture myself over this? It's late, I should be asleep. It's still storming. I'm watching the weather channel. I don't know how Stan can sleep through this. I wish I was more like Stan.

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Friday, July 04, 2008

DREAM: Dude, You've Got Some...Arzt...on You

Background: Stan and I watched the Arzt got blown up real good episode of LOST the other night. This morning on WPR while I was sleeping they were talking about firecrackers/works safety and maybe they should be banned. OK, enough background, here's my early morning dream:

Stan and I went into a store to buy some dynamite. The salesman was an old codger, maybe in his 60s, quiet silent type, short shorn greyish white hair, fairly tall, wrinkly...didn't look like anyone I could compare to, but maybe some old geezer working in ma and pa gift shops out west. We only bought one stick. He took it out of a box and dipped a paper towel in a pan of water, then wrapped the paper towel around the stick. Then Stan put it in his backpack. We then put it in our trunk (we don't have a trunk!) Then I was thinking, "Why did we do this? What are we going to do with this now?" I was afraid to touch it, I was afraid of Stan touching it. Stan told me we would put it in some garage...this was a garage of a relative of his...some older detached garage. I was hoping it wouldn't explode before we got to the garage. I was freaked out the whole dream...good thing it was a short one.

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Wednesday, July 02, 2008

DREAM: Ouroboros

Will the current constant stream of Guest Stars just dying to get into one of Ann's dream ever subside? Now I've even got directors after me.

Guest Starring Francis Ford Coppolla and Martin Scorcese

I dreamt that we were in a new house or condo or something that Stan's mother bought. It had high ceilings, but the rooms were small, which actually accentuated the smallness of the rooms. She was commenting on that too, saying that she liked the other place better. (then why move?) There wasn't a "guest area" like in her current duplex, so if we visited, we wouldn't be able to stay there. I told her that, and then Stan smiles and motions me aside to talk to me in another room. As we're leaving the earshot of his mother, the phone rings and he answers it. It's for me, he says, and it's Francis Ford Coppolla. IRL I would have been immediately taken aback, but upon quick contemplation realize it was a joke. No, not in dreamland. What do I do? I ask Stan if he can take a message, as I'm wracking my brain wondering if I wrote something in my blog to offend him. Stan shakes his head and shoves the phone at me. As I start to talk to him, I can also see him (where?), and it looks more like Martin Scorcese. The odd thing is that he has this weird blue dye in his teeth which makes his mouth look really odd. This Martin Copolla is talking about some new series he's directing on one of the premium cable channels, which is making me feel uneasy because we don't subscribe to the premiums, so I wouldn't be able to comment on any previous episodes he might have produced. He says that their writers are at a standstill with ideas for the show (like a another strike, perhaps?) and he was wondering if I had any ideas about a show with an elderly woman who's getting too old to manage an entire house by herself but too young to go to a care facility. I thought this extremely ironic, and I tell him that we were just having a situation today with my mother-in-law. I start to tell him an idea using Stan's mom as inspiration, but then I woke up. Bummer. It would've been interesting to see where that phone call headed.

Somehow, this is like the dream that eats itself.


Tuesday, July 01, 2008

DREAM: Noses, Nipples, Nutty Bits and Naughty Bits--or the lack thereof...

With special Guest Stars: John McCain, Anthony Bourdain and Steve Buscemi (wow! that's a lot for one dream!)

You can't make this stuff up. Dreaming it up is another story, however.

Sleeper Revisited: I was in a strange one-story spread out house that was in need of some repair. There were other people there, no one I knew IRL except in the dream. For some reason, John McCain was in another room, and I think he was someone's old relative...some uncle or something. He was doing some work underneath a dug-out area of the house, and then it collapsed on him, severing his nose from his face. I assumed it killed him because people were talking about removing the body, what to do about the body, what to do about the nose. (Well, why don't you clone it? Wait, maybe not...) I was worried that because he was dead, the nose would start to smell. !PUN!

Nutty Bits and Naughty Bits: Then I was standing outside on a wooden deck that had lots of shelves and cupboards with unusual condiments and spices. It was sort of like an outdoor kitchen, yet it had so much stuff it was also like a store. I wondered whose stuff it was, then Anthony Bourdain walks into the room. I feel rather attracted to him and we start to talk, I'm trying to flirt with him. There's a hot tub on the deck and we're watching as a squirrel is leaping around on it. The squirrel then transforms into a human, who happens to got it...Steve Buscemi. Here comes the disturbing part. Since the squirrel transformed into a human it didn't have time to change into human clothes so it is still wearing its squirrel fur and squirrel skin. It's sort of bare on its underbelly and as it's leaping around, I catch a glimpse of Squirrel Steve's genitals...and there really aren't any to speak of (OK, remember his character "Mr. Shush" in "Things to Do in Denver When You're Dead" and think about genitals...pasty nothingness, right? That was the squirrel). Anthony and I are laughing at this site and commenting like "Did you see anything there?" "No, he had no genitals!" Poor squirrel had no nuts.

Nipples: Then there was a short part with me changing my clothes in a women's restroom and walking around with pants but no top on. And finally, I was with Stan and he had no shirt on. But instead of a slight breast bulge as all men have, Stan's breast area was concave! His nipples were also really no coloration. I was wondering if something was wrong with him.

This dream makes the one with Sayid in the Bermuda Shorts Business Suit look mundane and sane.


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