ornamentalillness

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 guess...it'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.

Labels: Dreams

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

I dreamt we also had a caged rodent...like 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.

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams

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 that...it'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.

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams

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 it...it 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?

Labels: Dreams, Scents

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.

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams

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 that...it 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.

Labels: Dreams

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 texture....it 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.

Labels: Dreams

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 too...like 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?

Labels: Dreams, LOST

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?...wow, 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 sarcastic...it 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.

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams, LOST

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.

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams

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

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

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

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

Labels: Dreams

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

I can better things to spend $40 on.

Labels: Dreams

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

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

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

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

Labels: Dreams

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?

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams

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

Labels: Dreams

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

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

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

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

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

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams

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 structure...to 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.

Labels: Dreams

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.

Labels: Dreams

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?

Labels: 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 bookcases...press the bookcase and the door swivels and you end up on the other side...except it wasn't silly mystery movie stuff...it 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.

Labels: Dreams

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 thorns...like 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.

Labels: Animals, Dreams

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 there...it 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.

Labels: Dreams, LOST

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.

Labels: Dreams

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 school...like 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 couple...like 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.

Labels: Dreams, This Boring Life

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.

Labels: Dreams, LOST

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.

Labels: Dreams

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 be...you 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 pale...like 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.

Labels: Dreams

Another really baffling and pointless dream. I was talking to a couple friends from high school since I haven't seen since high school, practically. I could tell we had nothing in common. I was asking one about her job working as some sort of public relations person (IRL, I have no idea what she does). I really did not want to be there.

Then there was another part of the dream where I was trying to do research on feminism (WTF?) at a library that was a cross between the kinda cool groovy 70s-era windowful Fort Collins library and the ghastly bureaucratic windowless UW Library on Library Mall (which I was only in once in my life and I never ever want to go back in...you had to show ID just to enter). I have no idea why I wasn't just doing research on feminism online from the comfort of my own home (and I have no idea why I was doing research on feminism in the first place), but then the whole point of dreams is to torment us with dreaded anxiety-prone situations that we're thankful we don't actually experience in waking life, so sitting on the couch looking up feminism online isn't exactly "dreamworthy." So I'm staring at all these card catalogs, but some of the file trays were out of their drawers and lying around on the floor. There was a woman there who was using them (late 30s, dark hair, glasses, short...no one I know/knew...I assume she was doing research on Feminism too) and she asked me if I needed to use the card catalogs she was using, and which one. I told her I need the one with "Fe". She pointed me to some "Fe" cards that looked like microfiche, and I really couldn't use them. I think I blew off this whole assignment...it was just too difficult and last century. I woke up crying, because on principle I should have been able to use the card catalogs too and shouldn't have been treated like a 2nd class citizen by this mousey little bookish snot.

Labels: Dreams

I had a dream that I was romantically involved with Sayid from LOST. I can't remember much about it except for some odd details. Sayid was wearing a strange outfit which consisted of business suit, but with shorts...sort of like Bermuda shorts, but made out of business suit material. It looked so odd and it's not as if I ever saw the character wear anything like that on LOST either. We were together in a business building with lots of glass, glass walls, etc. He was sitting next to me and acting quite attracted to me, touching eachothers legs. I caught a glimpse of myself in a glass wall. I didn't look like me. My hair was much ligher because it had a lot of grey in it feathered in with a lighter blonde, with straight full bangs that covered my forehead. Not a good look for me at my age. I looked a little like Geraldine Ferrarro or Camilla Parker Bowles...but not as...um...well, I was prettier except for the silly hairstyle. I was wearing business clothes...nothing like I've ever worn or would ever want to wear. No plot to the dream. None whatsoever.

Labels: Dreams, LOST

Stan and I were having to move into a new house. Again, I think we were renters like in similar dreams with this theme. We were sizing up the house and trying to figure out if it had enough windows for our plants (there are never enough windows for our plants). The house was very simple, similar to Grant Street with the corner window styles in the bedrooms, but I think it had more room. The weird part was that Bill was the landlord, so he seemed to be looking out for our best interests. I think this house was actually part of Bill's house...it was a flat and he lived on a different level. The house did seem to have enough windows, so Stan and I were going to take it. The kitchen had an ugly greenish-blue low-pile patterned carpet from late mid-century and was in the back of the house. There was a few steps down to it, which I liked. I told Bill that all homes should have levels, so I was pleased with this place. There was also something odd about the house, and it had a bump in the living room, which was like bumps they had in old cars where the gas tanks were. I frequently have dreams where the living room floor isn't level, there's usually a slope to it which makes vacuuming difficult. I have no idea why the sloping floor is a reoccurring theme. It's a very surreal image for a home. Our kitchen floor slopes, but that has more to do with bad construction planning when they incorporated the back porch into the interior, back in the middle of the last century. But it's a minor slope...the slopes in my dreams are usually more severe, often carpeted. The gas tank bulge is a new one.

Labels: Dreams

Strange dream. Stan and I are driving around one of the lakes in town. It doesn't really look like any actual lake, although one part of the dream did remind me of Sherman Ave. around Tenney Park near the old minimansions, not near where Tim lives. One area reminded me of Fort Collins, either City Park or The Oval. Stan wanted me to let him off in this area...he had to go to work...or class (?). I saw someone walking around who looked familiar. It was Hurley from LOST. I headed home, but then decided to find Hurley. It was like I wasn't driving at this point. I saw Hurley, and there were a bunch of other people around. Hurley says "Hi Ann" to me, and we start talking about life after LOST and and how that time of our life is over now, we don't have to be worried about numbers anymore, like the number 4, or 23, for instance (actually, this was Hurley's problem). It was as if I had been a part of LOST, like it had been real and I had been there and Hurley knew me from the plane crash or something.

Then I wake up, ponder the dream a bit, go back to sleep and dream that I was talking to Stan and telling him about my Hurley dream.

So if Hurley can see me, does that mean I'm dead?

Labels: Dreams, LOST

I was in a multi-level house with a lot of other people that I didn't know. The walls were mostly glass which enabled me to see the weather outside. There were these dark brownish/black clouds hanging very low in the sky, nearly touching the roof. The clouds were very turbulent and had pendulous extensions coming down from them which I guess were small tornados, but they moved like animals, like snakes or heads and necks of those large herbivorous dinosaurs...or like Nessie. They would come out of the clouds (but they were made up of cloud stuff themselves) and extend down to a window of the house and touch it with the base of its extension, getting a feel for it. I was terrified by these tornados. The other people in the house agreed that we should go to lower levels. We crawled down stairs which were more like ladders. One of the tornado extensions had gotten inside and was now standing upwards and it had a head comprised of 3 other heads like in a totem pole design. The heads looked like cats. It was terrifying.

Labels: Dreams

This is one in a bunch of reoccurring dreams that I've been having in the past 5 years or so.

Last night I dreamt that I went into a public restroom with Stan (odd that there'd be a unisex public restroom, but, whatever). We each went into separate stalls which not only contained a toilet but sink because Stan was brushing his teeth. For some odd reason I had stuffed a bunch of clothes in my toilet, not just clothes but other things like a hair dryer and an old 90s era decorative plastic cordless phone. Another woman entered the restroom and starts talking to Stan, telling him to remove his toothbrush, right as I accidentally flushed the toilet. Somehow the toilet became this huge tub or vat that was very deep, with flushing action. I watched as these clothes and appliances...oh yeah, there was also a cat litter pan that I had flushed, not just the litter but the whole pan...were being flushed away in horror. I could still see them at the bottom of the deep tub; they weren't gone entirely. It was at this point that I called out "HELP!" but the woman was not letting Stan leave to help me, or he couldn't hear me call, or something. I kept yelling "HELP!" and I think Stan finally came, but there was nothing he could do about it. I think we resigned ourselves to having lost these objects, not that they weren't replaceable, although the clothes would have been nice to have back. I was more worried about the plumbing being damaged and causing a big clog than anything, however the pipes seemed as huge as the tub. Very weird.

The other night I think I dreamt I flushed a clear plastic sealable snack bag down our toilet, and in the dream I was thinking that it was just like in my dreams.

Why on earth has this become such a reoccurring motif? Why would I put anything that isn't biodegradable down a toilet, let alone something I need? Simply bizarre.

Labels: Dreams

The other night almost a week ago (I have extremely limited internet access right now) I had this dream. I can't remember which night because I'm not where I usually am right now, and perception is a bit distorted and confused. It all harkens back to that silly "which LOST character are you" quiz.

I dreamt that I was with Stan, except he was Charlie. It was like we were in the early stages of our relationship, because we seemed younger. We were running, and he, Stan/Charlie, kissed me while we were on the run. Just for the record and to set things straight, I'm not that attracted to Charlie...I'm a Desmond girl...but there was something really sweet about that kiss, maybe because despite outward appearances, it was Stan behind it.

That sounds really cornball.

Anyway, the dream continued in a LOST vein, because we went into this strange place like a dungeon with chains and shackles and torture equipment, and Charles Widmore was there. It was rather sinister. As I was dreaming it, I was thinking how cool it was that I was actually experiencing my very own LOST episode.

I wish I could remember more of the dream, and perhaps I would've if I could've written it down afterward like normal, but it's been very difficult lately.

Labels: Dreams, LOST

1) I had suddenly remembered where I had put my old solid perfume compacts from a couple posts ago, and found them inside my vanity (IRL they were not there, I checked this morning just to be sure). The scents were not the ones I remembered. I had a compact that contained 3 scents I never had, one was something called "Mandarin" (orangey, neroli-ish, I presume), another was "Caraway", which IRL was actually from the Herbs collection I never bought, and the third one might have been "Vetiver" but I can't remember precisely (mmm...Vetiver...yummy). They were rather dessicated and a lot of the scent was gone, but I was so glad I found them, yet puzzled about why I didn't remember buying the Mandarin/Caraway/Vetiver trio. (probably because I didn't buy it, and it didn't even exist). OK, that settles it, I will have to buy some Essential Oils and try a combination with those scents.

2) I was in an old university-type building, which I have reoccurring dreams about, like the buildings on Bascom Hill at the UW or around the Oval at CSU. I was standing on the steps at the front door, looking outside and waiting for a ride. A car pulls up, maybe a taxi, and the man in the back seat looks like Desmond from LOST. Then I realize he also looks like John, my former Boss from Kinko's over 20 years ago (IRL, I don't see any resemblance...John was taller, darker hair, different features, no resemblance). Then I start telling people who are there that it's no wonder why Desmond is my favorite LOST character, because he reminds me of my favorite boss. Truly odd. Actually, IRL Stan commented while watching a Larry King interview a few months ago with Eric Clapton (yeah, I know, odd, but not as odd as the Larry King/Snoop Dog interview probably was...I didn't watch that one in case you're wondering) that Eric circa the 1980s(?) resembled Desmond, and there actually is a resemblance there, but not with John my Kinko's boss.

3) I was in a reoccurring-dream mall, in a clothing store that usually has a lot of things I can find (in dreams, that is), but this time I couldn't find anything. I kept finding odd hats like maybe they'd wear in Western Asia. Then as I'm waking up from this dream, I realize that on the radio IRL they're talking about Tibet.

Labels: Dreams, LOST, Rock and Roll, Scents

I was in a park in a city where the snow was still on the ground, but a section of this park was in spring and green. I was thinking about moving my cactus plants there and there was a female deer eating grass near me. A tall hairy faced man with dark skin came to the park, and he looked like someone who was once a teacher of mine. He was hunting the deer with a pistol, and when he arrived the deer started charging at me. The deer ran right past me and stood on top of a stone wall with me between the gun man and her.

I approached the man and asked him not to hunt this deer in the park and if he was going to kill it he needed to wait until the deer left the park. The man then pointed the pistol at me and told me I was going to die a long painful death. His hand was shaking as if he was having some difficulty about pulling the trigger. Another male deer ran past us and stood by the female deer. I turned around to look at them and they had transformed into deer with human heads - both of them were African American. I was still standing between them and the gun man.

The gun man was still trying to point the gun at me and shaking. I believe he wanted to kill me so he could then kill the deer, but then I woke up.

Labels: Dreams

I was renting an apartment. I don't know if I was renting with Stan as well, but I had at least one female roommate who was Asian. The apartment is on the second floor, and as I walk into it, I immediately notice that the place has changed. My roommate had taken down all my art, painted the walls light sage green (in the dream they had originally been a light golden sandy color...how did I know this? I have no light golden sandy color rooms in my house) and placed only one painting per wall, and the art wasn't even done by her, but instead a third party. There was also a large dining room table in part of this great room taking up a great deal of space. I go into a rage and try to explain to her that there will be no art by third parties hanging on the wall, that the art must either be done by her or me. Then I start hanging a bunch of my old paintings on the wall--not my recent paintings, but paintings I did over 20 years ago. There is plenty of wall space to hang lots of my art, but I try to explain to her that we have to hang our art on the walls because there isn't enough storage area within the house (which is what we deal with IRL) and that's why I don't want anyone else's art here except the occupant's. This roommate's mother is there too, and she speaks even less English, and she seems really confused by everything. I think there's another roommate there, maybe someone I shared a studio with in grad school, and she has these wall art pieces with these brightly colored fabric balls (approx. 3-7" in diameter) hanging off of them. They were kind of stupid looking, like a clown suit, except better colors. Then I go into the basement to get more of my paintings, and it turns into this reoccurring dream basement which haunts my dreams so frequently that I often forget to include it in my dream journalling. This basement seems so familiar, and I'm wracking my brain to remember if I ever experienced it IRL, but I can't recall any house that had it. It's a basement that goes on forever, it's very long and you keep walking back into it to find more and more storage. The color white is prominent, and sometimes the concrete floors slope. I don't know where I draw this from, it could be the Chemistry Stockroom, but it's very residential, not institutional and the CS was grey and green, not white. This basement is also very old, maybe 100 year, but all the old house basements I've been in have been very small. I don't know what happened next, but I hope I kicked the roommates out. How dare they redecorate the place without consulting me!

Hey, speaking of 100 year old houses, our house turned 100 this year.

Labels: Dreams

Stan and I were on a vacation and traveling in the west. It was like we were viewing a map of the US, or traveling very high in the sky looking downward. There was narration in the background, some man talking about how when Texas was settled, they didn't know it led to the Pacific Ocean. I was looking at Texas from my aerial vantage point, and saw that it did have a very small part of its southwest corner that attached to both the Pacific Ocean and Arizona. Then we start descending on a very steep mountainous road. We wonder if our van will make the steep inclines. We go around a curve and find a hotel. There are a lot of old white-haired people wandering around. I am wondering if we should spend the night there. It's only about 4 pm in the afternoon and we could go further, but we don't know what's ahead, and when we'd find it. I go inside and it's nothing like your usual hotel lobby. There's no comforting furniture, just rows of doors painted in late cold war-era yellows and oranges, more like a grade school. I ask the man at the desk if he takes some kind of discount, and I couldn't remember the name of the discount, but I do remember my Trip Rewards card and pull it out, as well as a credit card. He never comes right out and says yes or no, but he's stalling, telling me he can't give me a room for free (not that I asked for one) and that the rooms are filling up because of some planned execution of some criminal that Bush is taking part in that is staged for that day or the next (?huh?). As he's stalling, I'm getting ready to grab my cards and leave because he's wasting my time while we could be traveling down the road.

Labels: Dreams

Part of the dream was a real mess and I can't even begin to describe it...something with bathtubs and coffee (which they were discussing on the radio...the coffee part, not the tub part). But the part I remember was I was in the CSU art building, walking towards the Drawing wing. It was big like a mall and grey, with lots of confusing twists and turns that don't exist there IRL. I was telling someone I was with, either a real person or someone in my head (imagine, someone in my head...inside a dream...whoah, it's like looking in a wall mirror while holding a hand mirror, and you're looking at the hand mirror in your reflection in the wall mirror) that I like dreaming or being in this art building better than the "Other One" (i.e., UW). I see Dave Yust there...he is carrying around some cut-out wood pieces that were similar in form to Henri Matisse's leaves. We didn't say hi or anything; I don't think he recognized me.

Then I get the the end of the line, which is a great big huge drawing room the size of a gymnasium. They have a bunch of my metal leaf on textural acrylic paint paintings on the wall, and each and every one of them has a red mark on them. It's large, like tags or graffiti but it's very cryptic and scribbled. Sort of like when you see cars that are to be parted out in a junkyard. I have about a dozen paintings there, as if there was an exhibit and all the other exhibitors had come to pick theirs up already.

I'm aghast, and don't know what to do. I think I find someone, a professor or someone, and tell them what happened. There's a young woman there who starts taking pictures of each painting with her cellphone, I don't know if it's for evidence or what.

Labels: Art, Dreams

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

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

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

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

Labels: Dreams

This dream might have been influenced by something that was on the radio this morning. I dreamt I was in a small crowd of people, and there were young white supremacists there. They were getting booed by the crowd, and I yelled at them and told them they were Nazis. The white supremacists started to leave and one guy (tall, short almost shaved head) came up to me and I thought he was going to be violent, but he hugs me and he says "you don't really hate us, do you?" And I said "Yes I do!" and tried to shirk away from his hug.

Later in the dream, or possibly it was a precursors to the Nazi part--I can't recall which, I was amongst a whole bunch of college students. We were all walking toward something in a migration, and I wasn't walking. I was moving by pulling myself along with my hands, as if I had no legs. My hands were getting sore from the concrete. Then I was in a classroom and I felt completely out of place because everyone was so young, less than half my age.

I know there was more, but i can't remember it.

Labels: Dreams

They were talking about The Stupid Economy, Stupid, on the radio this morning, and Bush's silly "stimulus package" (ew, that sounds dirty). I dozed off momentarily into dreamland:

Stan and I were sitting in a ski lift (?WTF?) and we were discussing Bush's silly "stimulus package" (ew again). I was saying how ridiculous it was to give people a one-time $800, and what this country really needs is a long-term economic plan that will help the middle- and underclasses, but not just a one-time handout. Stan said "Well, fine, if you don't want your money, then you can give it to me, I have bills to pay." I thought his response rather odd because, yeah, duh, we both have bills to pay, but it's not a long term solution and I thought it was very shortsighted on his part and just plain odd to be so "Thank you, Uncle George!"

We'll have to wait for Stan's response to this one as his computer is in the shop (loooong story) so that hypothetical $800 would be welcome...but still, a very shortsighted solution nonetheless.

*Yes, Keith Olbermann may have used that term a few nights ago, but I was thinking it weeks before he said it!

Labels: Dreams, Politically Incorrect

I was out riding my bike in Fort Collins (not inconceivable if we go there this spring). I was coming back to my parents' house and they had all this junk in their front yard, old yard equipment, and a coffin-sized hole dug right near the sidewalk. It looked like no one was home and they just left this clutter there, which is very unlike them. I walk in the front door and realize they actually are home, but the first floor is rearranged. It transmogrified into a split level, where the kitchen and dining room are a half a level up. It was hard to explain, but things were switched around and there was a balcony looking down to the living room below. My parents are sitting at a table, and it looks like they're playing Scrabble. My friend Barb is there with them, and she has a totally bored out of her mind look on her face, and she was reading a magazine. She was wearing earplugs that are in the shape of 1970s cartoon daisy flowers. I ask her, "you must be losing," thinking that because of her inattentiveness to the ongoing game. "No, actually she's winning," someone said, so I figured my parents are too easy for opponents. It was almost as if she was babysitting them in my absence, and since I returned I could take over her spot. I started looking around this remodel, and discovered two bedroom, each pretty dark with two small windows (because it would be in the attic and my parents have no attic windows). I told them I love these rooms, but I have never seen them before, and why didn't they open the house up like that when I was living there?

If only that house was interesting...it has the most boring floorplan in the world.

Labels: Dreams

I don't have nautical dreams very much, mainly because I have few opportunities to go on water. In fact, this was the first dream I can ever recall being on a boat. The different times spent on a water vessel can probably be counted on one hand: 1) in 1975 when my parents and I went to Yellowstone and we took a tour boat on Lake Yellowstone; 2) in 1976 when we went to the Wisconsin Dells and we rode on a "Duck" (Wisconsin Dells back then was nothing like the monstrosity theme park it is now); 3) In 1987 when Stan and I went to Seattle and took a Ferry up to one of the islands; 4) 2002 When we went to New England and took a Ferry to Block Island; and 5) 1990-present summers when we take the Merrimac Ferry across Lake Wisconsin. Oh, and I forgot...I guess this makes a polydactyl hand. One late summer in the mid-90s Stan and I took this strange Pontoon ride with a bunch of old people (we didn't know it was going to be so Geri...we just wanted to have fun) on a Sunday morning from Tenney Park down the Yahara across Lake Monona to Olbrich Park. We got off at Olbrich Park and walked home, got the other car and drove back to Tenney to pick up the car we drove there. At that time, we just couldn't bear heading back for more ride on the S.S. Minnow filled with Thurstons and Lovies but no Professors or Mary Annes and Gingers. Anyway, that's my very limited history on water. And here's my dream:

I was in a boat docked near land. It was like a home, and simultaneously as I had this dream, I also had a side dream that my mom and dad had a fight. I was trying to call my mom...it was like she had more independence than she does IRL and had gone off...driven off somewhere (IRL my mom doesn't drive). I was trying to call her...I was worried. I looked out the window of this boat and it was right in front of a 20-30 foot tall ship that was also docked. I could see the captain's window, and there was a woman who was sitting in the captain's chair, but she wasn't a captain, just a guest on board chatting. For some reason I felt safe being next to the ship, like the ship was protecting my boat. But later in the dream I looked out of the window and the ship was gone, and I was alone, maybe 800 feet from the pier. "The Sea was Angry that Day, My Friends. The Weather Started Getting Rough, The Tiny Ship was Tossed." I was getting scared because I did not know how to get back to shore, and I was afraid the boat would capsize and I couldn't swim.

Labels: Dreams

It was like I was in a place that was a cross between LOST, some rural hillsides that could have been *anywhere* hilly/mountainous in a temperate zone (Colorado? Wisconsin? Who knows), in an old downtown/industrial neighborhood in a somewhat small town....sort of like downtown Baraboo. I can't remember too many specifics, but I remember standing around in old buildings where some LOST castaway-types who looked more like extras from some '80s office-girl movie were trying to move a large wall, but having lots of problems. One of them was very tall with dark hair and glasses and wearing fishnet nylons with little socks...very 80s, very misplaced on the set of LOST, however. But I also remember seeing Hurley and possibly other actual LOST types. And I specifically remember John Locke. I was sitting next to him in a vehicle and we were traveling up a hill. He was talking to me like he knew me, like he was a co-worker (I always wanted to work for a box company...). It was not tropical in the slightest. We drove through some strange, large garage with chains. We were plotting something, but I don't know what. I wish I could remember this better.

Mostly, I wish Desmond and Sawyer were there.

Locke?!?

You know, that character is supposed to be around my/Stan's/Barrack Obama's age. No way!

Labels: Dreams, LOST

It's 5 am, I'm half asleep, my nails are long and in the way of my keyboard, but I have to write this silly dream down before I forget it.

First, some background. Stayed up to watch the Iowa caucus speeches on MSNBC...Edwards, Clinton, Obama, Huckabee (along with Chuck Norris's enormous head), not Romney, however, noooo...that comes later. But speaking of Romney, it's my opinion, and maybe mine alone, that he reminds me a little physically of Jack Shephard's father, Christian Shephard, you know, alcoholic father and the corpse in the coffin on doomed flight 815? And you've heard PETA-enraging tales of Romney's Griswoldesque American Family Vacation with the dog in the box on the top of the car? Yes, all these things must have played into the formulation of:

WEIRDEST. DREAM. EVER.

So I'm like in...Ireland or something. WTF. I'm at the country home of some family whose mother has died. She had some young children. She lived next door to her parents who are both still living. Her mother, the kid's grandmother, comes out to talk to people who are with me. We go into the house. The dead mother is displayed in the parlor. They are having a green funeral, probably to be buried in the green hills of Ireland? WroNG! No, this corpse is coming with us, back to Madison, in a van being driven by Mitt Romney! As we're leaving, Mitt or somoene asks, "Doesn't this women have parents who live next door?" but I guess I was the only one who saw them. I didn't say anything, because I figure there's a reason her parents didn't want to be seen by the others.

This whole thing was surreal, like I was halfway participating in the dream, but also halfway watching it on tv. It especially got tv-esque when someone was worrying about the dead woman's toes curling up as she hardens, so someone whips out some booties and demonstrates how to pull a string in the booties which causes the toes to straighten and not curl. Beauty secrets for the dead. WTF.

Anyway, we're driving along highways (probably hwy 151 traveling eastward) in Wisconsin going towards Madison. I think Stan is in the van too, along with me, some orphaned Irish kids, and a corpse wrapped in plastic. We're also hauling a boat behind us. There is no backseat in the van, similar to the way ours is frequently when we've had large paintings to haul. I'm finding it hard not to sit on the corpse due to lack of space and the way Mitt is driving, which is rather erratic. I'm also rather puzzled what we're going to do with the corpse once we get to Madison...it's not like we can have a green funeral in Madison (which is the problem I have with this whole green funeral movement anyway...you really need to land (read: money) to do them, and what about the multitudes of urban poor, or just plain urban without a plot of green to their name unless they have ancestral land in the country (read: family money)...it's just another politically correct trendy fad that is extremely impractical for those who are disenfranchised. Yet I digress. So I ask Mitt The Driver, "we can't bury the body normally in the ground, can we?" To which he responds that we will have to sneakily bury it vertically down a hole. Flashing back to my corpse in an underground gas tank dream from a few weeks ago. I'm bobbing around in the back of the van trying to avoid sitting on the shifting corpse, and Mitt says to watch out for the cop. There was a policeman behind us, so we all try to act like nothng was abnormal.

We're getting close to home, we're on Johnson St. and First St. where Johnson continues to the right and veers off on the left merging onto...Aberg? (I've lived here over 18 years and I'm still confused by the streets). At this fork in the road, Mitt is not paying attention, he's babbling to the passengers in the van and drives up onto the strip of median. Then the van stops. We get out. I wonder why he doesn't just drive back onto the road, but Stan tells me that the power steering must have gone out, which was why he steered into the median and couldn't steer out of it. I wonder how we'll get out of this one...what will we do with the corpse? How can we hide the corpse from the towing company? Should I walk home and get a blanket to cover it? We walk over to a nearby business which is also a car repair place (which doesn't exist in that area IRL), where Mitt is inside talking to people. Stan's hair is very long and very blond. He makes a weird gesture at a young mechanic who seemed like he was making a weird gesture at me. And then I woke up. I assume Stan and I walked home at this point, leaving the problem to Mitt Romney. After all, it was his idea. Heh.

Labels: Dreams, Politically Incorrect, WTF

I wish these dreams would stop. I had another dream where I STILL HADN'T COMPLETED MY GRADUATE DEGREE. Make it stop. I was looking at course schedules and I still had all these courses to take, courses like math and science and things that are actually more like requirements for a Baccalaureate. (Only 3 credits or one course of an "outside" credit, and 6 credits or 2 courses of Art History were required for my MFA at the UW). I was thinking that since I already had completed a good deal of studio time for many semesters in a row that is required, I could ease off and take my required courses gradually. It's odd, because Stan already has his Masters in these dreams, whereas I'm the one waiting to finish up. IRL Stan got his after I got mine (only 3 years later though) and we shared one year together (which was the best year there for both of us). Anyway, there was some announcement on the news that the campus was closed off and not allowing any people on it, but I tried to go anyway because I had to get things done. I was walking toward it, but it morphed more into CSU, and I was approaching it more from the direction as if I was still living on Peterson, trying to cross the Oval. There were barricades and couldn't get to my destination, which was somewhere around the Clark building or Student Center or beyond. I walk further south, near Pitkin (this totally is CSU and not the UW), and am able to maneuver around and head toward my destination. There is snow on the ground and it is cold (which it usually is in these dreams). I also remember being in an art studio and there is a lecherous professor there who is wearing an extremely short diaphanous skirt. He is trying to seduce a male student. The male student says he has to go, and the prof says "great, why don't we continue this discussion at your place?" He was a gross old thing, short, with a big fat body like some failed drag queen in a comedy. I also remember walking around the art building (this was clearly the 6th or 7th floor of the Inhumanities building at the UW, not the more fun CSU art building which also reappears in my dreams as well) trying to get into lockers to get my art supplies. These lockers were full-height, like lockers in Jr or Sr High School, not the stubby lockers for art supplies only that they have in college. I couldn't remember the combination. I hate it when that happens. You go through every possible locker combination you can remember and nothing works, and the only thing that will save you is waking up from the blasted dream.

Labels: Art, Dreams

Damn, this was a disturbing dream!

I was with a dream-partner...I don't know if it was Stan or a female or who (sometimes these dream-companions are very non-descript, and I naturally assume it is Stan because who else would it be, but at times they have female-like attributes as well. Maybe it's my shadow-self.). But we had killed someone, some female, no one I knew, but someone who must have pissed us off somehow. We were going to dispose of the body, and the dream-partner suggested we put the body in one of those tanker trucks that carry gasoline and deliver it to gas stations. Supposedly, in the dream, the hose that deposits the gas is wide enough for a body to slip through. So we got a tanker somehow, put the body, wrapped in plastic, inside of it, delivered it to a gas station, the body slipped through and into the underground tank. Then we left. It was like we were in Fort Collins around the cemetary, and we were heading by foot, running, down Mountain Avenue towards Shields and Beaver's Market, which is where the gas station supposedly was that we deposited the body. (IRL, there is no gas station there) People were going about their business like there was nothing wrong, but I was getting these horrible feelings of guilt, not as much for killing someone but for hiding her body, and no one will ever know what happened to her.

If I can feel so guilty in a dream-state, I wonder how people who actually murder and then try to cover it up feel. I guess they don't.

Labels: Dreams

I was in a condominium or apartment or hotel in some city that wasn't Madison. I think my parents and Stan were there. We were on a non-ground-level floor, probably around the 5th floor or so. We went outside to leave and there was a stone ledge. I saw a black Pug, I think it was Lucifer Sam, on the ledge. My parents and Stan were already outside, and I was surprised to see them let the Pug on the ledge. I went to grab him, but he jumped. I awoke with a start, my heart was pounding.

I hate dreams like that.

Labels: Animals, Dreams

What an absurd dream! Partly based in reality as Stan and I really were laying in bed (imagine...dreaming while in bed) and we both have been sick. I dreamt that Stan's mom got us a gift to use while we were sick, a weird blend of technologies. It looked like a cassette tape recorder from the '70s, but it had to have an internet connection because it connected to podcasts. It also came with some cassette tapes, but they would only work if connected to the podcast they were associated with. Wouldn't be so bad if it was an interesting podcast like "This American Life" (I never seem to be able to catch the radio broadcast) or another NPR show, but, get this, it was a tape of some lame 70s sitcom that was a spinoff of the Mary Tyler Moore show, like "Phyllis." Was that even a show? I know there was "Rhoda", but "Phyllis?" Talk about something I don't ever think about appearing out of nowhere! This cassette device also came with a set of headphones that had to be worn while listening to it. So Stan is lying in bed with headphones on, but I can't listen to it unless I plug in a different set of headphones into an adapter that allow for another connection. I do happen to find a set of headphones laying around, and lay down with him and listen to the dumb show. As it turns out, all it is is a newscast, which is much more interesting than "Phyllis". Then I realize that it's the radio on IRL.

Labels: Dreams

I dreamt I was at a farm or ranch or very large greenhouse. Plato was there and he jumped over a large gate to get to me, even though he could have gone through some holes in the gate/fence. There were some young boys around 7 years old there, and Stan asked them whether they wanted to play with our dog or some other option that to me seemed less desirable than playing with a dog. They chose playing with Plato, so we let them go off on the ranch with him. Then I was walking through a greenhouse-like area, but some of the plants looked more like rocks, or trays of soft pastels layed out in rows. Then it got quite surreal. I was hearing Bill's voice, but I couldn't see him. Then, the greenhouse turned into art studios or the 7th floor gallery at the inhumanities building at the UW, and I had to sign up for a show schedule (another grad school graduation anxiety dream 15 years too late). Later, I saw Stan walking back to the entrance area with Plato, and I guess we went home.

Labels: Dreams

I've been sick for almost a week now with a really bad sore throat. I got it from Stan. He's better now, and it progresses every day (today it's not as sore as it was, but my ears feel like they've been stuffed with cotton), so I know it's nothing serious, just some obnoxious virus.

Each day Caligula hisses less at Apollo, but they're far from snuggle lovers. That might take years. Apollo actually gets along with Plato the best, probably because they're both Alphas and they've worked it out (meaning little kitty bites Plato, Plato puts little kitten in his place). Apollo likes to lovebite Lucifer Sam, but the bites are getting less annoying and Lucifer Sam is tolerating him more.

Watched a really enjoyable show last night on Sundance channel called "Nimrod Nation." The Nimrods is the school mascot for Watersmeet, Michigan. It's a documentary that revolves around the high school basketball team, the Nimrods, but it also shows a lot of the small town life and local characters. The setting is very Fargo-esque, and a good thing to watch on a cold night because it makes you feel glad you're in balmier climes. No really, the best line I've heard from any documentary came from "Nimrods" when a teenage girl is complaining about living in the Upper Peninsula and says "I don't like living in Michigan, it's too cold. I want to move to Wisconsin." Stan and I went through Watersmeet a couple times. We spent the night there once in a grungey little hunters' motel/cabin to see the Paulding lights back in 1997. We refused to stay in the casino, the only other lodging in town. That was mid-September and the weather was nice, and the pond by our cabin was idyllic. But this documentary is shot in winter, not as welcoming.

I have this horrible reocurring dream that is always the same theme: I haven't graduated from either under-grad or graduate school, I haven't scheduled my final show yet, or taken an outside credit, or even figured out which semester I'm going to graduate. I had one of those dreams last night. And at the end I'm always thinking, "maybe I can put off graduating another semester, it doesn't really matter anyway." Ugh. I'm so glad that part of my life is over and completed. I don't know why I keep having these dreams.

Labels: Animals, Art, Dreams, This Boring Life, TV

This weekend was a rollercoaster of emotions. I sold a painting...a large one, which really helps since this past month or two has been dead dead dead for the online sales. The family who bought it saw it at Sundance Cinema a few months ago. Sundance, by the way, called me back for a return showing a few weeks ago since the people/gallery/organization they had scheduled pulled out at the last minute because they thought Sundance's exposure would "dilute" their "image"--ok, whatever...I'm really glad I showed there, not just because it resulted in a sale of a large piece, but just because it's good exposure. At first I thought the people who pulled out were maybe some kind of snooty artschool conceptual theory types, but when I found their gallery online, I was really amazed that they had the nerve to pull out of a classy venue like Sundance. Well, their loss is my gain.

Anyway, I'm digressing. I was feeling a bit melancholy missing Letha and how her magenta rainbows will never embrace our wall again. And then Stan found a new lump on Lucifer Sam. This one is on his back.

The rest of the night I spent puking and endlessly voiding myself. I stayed up all night in a delirium, like a bad drunken reaction or a horrible flu. I simply cannot take another episode of these pet disasters. I hate to play favorites, but Lucifer Sam is my favorite pet. And this happening to him again is too much for me.

I suspect I have a panic disorder. But all the triggers are known, they don't happen out of the blue. Recently, it has been pet health issues, like when I thought the little kitten was horribly ill because he had diarrhea and vomited...all it was was too much running and a change of food. But the lump...a couple months after his other cancer...this is just too much.

I couldn't eat anything yesterday, but towards the middle of the day I had Stan get me some donuts. That was the only thing I had a taste for. Why donuts? Who knows. These situations give me weird cravings, usually for food I normally don't eat. We seldom ever eat donuts. We probably average one donut a year. Except this year sort of blew that average because of yesterday.

We take Lucifer Sam in today to get checked. I am so fearful.

I get these attacks when something is messing with my life, either with pet health issues, or when people mess with me interpersonally. This last one with the Pug was the worst yet. Stan said I looked really weak and pale. I looked up panic disorder online, but it seems those are more spontaneous in occurrence. This is not spontaneous or an unknown trigger. I know exactly what causes it. I'd be just fine if there was no lump on my Pug. I'd have been just fine in the past if people weren't being assholes. I'm not talking run-of-the-mill difficult customers, I'm talking people who have it in for you through no fault of your own, because they're mentally unstable or petty or bullies, or whatever, and they act like 10-year-olds even though they're adults.

Last night I had an embarrassing dream that I was making love to Johnny Depp. His hair was too short, though, pity. I kept wondering in the dream "what does he want with ME?"

Labels: Animals, Art, Dreams, This Boring Life

I was with my parents and Stan (I think). They were trying to find a place to rent--an apartment. They/we drove to a large 3-4 story apartment complex with a whole bunch of playground equipment on the outside of the building, like scaffolding or waterpark equipment. Despite all that hideousness, the apartment building looked very nice from the outside; not so nice on the inside. My parents went into the unit that was for lease, but I was later in coming in, so I had to call out "Mom!" in front of a whole bunch of doors before she responded. I went into the door and it was just awful inside. The walls were mid-century lime green-painted cinder bricks, the windows were up high like basement windows although this was a first-floor unit. Although I didn't go into them, the 3 bedrooms all came off of the long, dark, main room. No hallway, no area of separation, no privacy. I have no idea why, but I was going to live with them (horror of horrors), possibly with Stan there as well. Just give me the razor blades now. Anyway, I wandered around toward the back of the main room and found an open doorway that led directly into another room that was a very nice, classy furniture store/art gallery. There was also an open stairway that led upstairs, but I didn't go there. I walked into the store room and saw that it was a functioning business during business hours. Why it was attached to this apartment was a mystery. There was some art on the wall that resembled my own, some like the way I painted maybe around 20 years ago with abstract figures, and then some others that looked like the way I paint now, except not as beautiful and colorful, and more like the tar paintings in the Wim Winders movie, Million Dollar Hotel (apologies to Stan for using a movie reference in here that he hasn't seen...I watched it one day on IFC or Sundance when he was at work...sorry). I went back into the apartment and saw the realtor agent/landlady there who was or looked like a teacher of mine from high school (creative writing and drama). I asked her if the furniture store/gallery was actually part of this apartment, and she said no. I told her about the paintings and how they resembled mine, and that although I don't like the apartment, I would rent there if this place also showed my art. She thought it was a great idea, and that we should talk to the people there to see if that would be ok. I followed here there and I was expecting her to do the talking because I hate doing stuff like that. But no, she just waited for me to talk (thanks a lot). I explained my situation to a couple of people there, and one woman started shaking her head "no" before I even finished what I was saying. They seemed like pretentious assholes from the UW, a gallery full of shit-painting friends. As I wandered around the place some more, there was a studio area where some of the artists were still working on pieces. Some of the paintings were hung upside down so the paint would form stalagtites (as if that were possible).

Then I got caught up in eating reception food that was quite odd. I commented to Stan that this whole thing was like the movie "After Hours". (In fact, come to think of it, some of the art seemed like the art in that movie, except it was painting, not sculptures) One of the reception foods was a hard-boiled egg that was the size of a mango. I took my egg over to a high table with barstools that was difficult to eat at, especially because sitting next to me was this very heavy-set ruddy-complected bare-armed biker man with tiny orange freckles all over his body. Then my egg, which had paprika sprinkled on it started to resemble the man's freckles. It was gross. I looked over at some plants by a window and there was a cat or something chasing a chameleon around a large tropical. Not an anole, but a true chameleon...with the weird eyes and hands.

The whole dream left me with a pissed-off feeling about the art world and why I hate it. It's no better than Bush administration cronyism.

Labels: Art, Dreams

Just when I said I would't write for a while...

Stan and I were in a very weird Disneyland sort of store or museum. OK, I've never been to Disneyland or Disneyworld* so I have no idea what it is like other than the hideous images I see on TV*. Actually, this was darker and more sinister. It had a very curious display of animatronic animals...puppies, kittens, ducks, bunnies. They were rather realistic except they had no fur or feathers...just a soft rubbery substance that was so soft to the touch it only seemed like fur. They were prompted by people's reactions to them to come up to you and get petted, roll around on the floor, act sweet, but never nip or bite. I was amazed that a robot could react so naturally to environmental prompts, yet puzzled that the exterior remained furless, and that they also looked rather slightly cartoony with exaggeratedly large heads and eyes. I think it would be easier to get the thing to *look* real rather than to program it for real reactions, but what do I know, I'm just an artist and not a geek.

----

Instead of sitting on the futon/couch scrunched up with a Pug while I type this, I'm upstairs with Apollo. Last week we decided that since this quarantine is going to be longer than we had anticipated--even though all odds are that he's perfectly fine**, I'm going to have to find a way to actually make my time productive while I'm up here on kitten socialization duty. Yes, I can paint in the blue room, but I can't really watch the kitten well when I paint and I don't always want to paint. Yes, I can work on my desktop computer in the green room, but I would have my back to the main action, and I really don't use that as my main computer anymore anyway since I've gone into laptop mode. So I thought that having a small table up here to keep in the main upstairs room that I could sit at on the floor and work on jewelry or draw would be a good idea. This room is small and filled with plants, an exercise bike, boxes of envelopes (for my business), and art, so there's not room for a "real" table and chairs. I found some short table legs and some wood at Menards and Stan put it together for me. It's perfect. I sit on pillows on the floor, and the table is lightweight and can be moved aside so I can get out from under it. It's very Eastern, like some tea rooms at Asian restaurants, or some Middle Eastern restaurants where you can sit on the floor. I can eat here (I had a ham sandwich last night which I tried to train Apollo not to beg for) and right now I'm using my laptop on it. It's the perfect height. I'm surprised this sort of setup isn't more popular. It is very comfortable, and very non-Western. I'm not much of a chair person, and I hate dangling my legs. Even when I work on my deskop computer, I either put my legs up on my chair or up on a footstool. This way I don't have to. Why is this culture so chair-obsessed and anti-sitting on floors? I think floor sitting keeps one young. When I think about my parents or grandparents, they never sat on the floor. I don't want to be that way.

*Even if my parents had the money to, they never would've taken me to a place like that, which is one of the rare things I can respect about them. And why would I want to go as an adult? I hate artificial entertainment like that. Give me a natural history museum or a national park any day. Las Vegas, Disneyland...blech. You couldn't pay me to go.

**I did know a kitten that had Leukemia...Otto or Otis or something...one of the only Manx I had known. He was a next door neighbor cat--they thought he had been given vaccinations, but maybe he had come pre-infected and the shots didn't help. He got skinnier and skinnier until he died...sad, sad sad, so I don't want to take chances, although Caligula could stand to lose a few pounds if Apollo had it (I'm just kidding of course).

Good news...despite his sassier demeanor as of late, and his ambivalence about his own name, Apollo *does* know what a stern NO! means. If he's trying to get at a plant or some other bad cat thing, and one says "NO!", he'll chortle and run off.

Labels: Animals, Dreams

Some time last week I had a dream that Stan and I were looking for kittens. I think we might have gone to Noah's ark. There were a whole bunch of them, and they were very young. They had a wet quality to their fur, like newborns. I saw a turqoise one and wanted to get that one, but it seemed too young.

The strange thing, is that it was so matter-of-fac t. A turquoise kitten--oh, that's a pretty color, not A TURQUOISE KITTEN?!?!?!?!? WTF?

---

The following night, I again had a dream about a turquoise kitten, this one a little older, maybe 4 months. It was a darker turquoise, maybe a teal. Very pretty. Again, very matter-of-fact, like, "Oh, here's another turquoise cat."

---

Last night I had a very weird dream that I was in an old apartment with very high ceilings---maybe 12 foot high. It seemed more like a old store converted to living space. Supposedly there had been a fire on the top floor where other people lived. They sent in a building inspector or a landlord to look at my unit and ceiling to determine if there was anything wrong. I was worried that my place would catch on fire. They pulled tiles from the ceiling to examine what was up there, and it was a convoluted thick matrix of wiring (The Matrix, Stan!!!), not what one would expect to find inside a ceiling in an old building. The inspector/landlord was talking to me that they would have to do repairs and at that time I'd have to find another place to stay temporarily. I said it was a good place my parents lived in town so I could stay with them, so I guess this place was in Fort Collins. Stan was not in the picture. Weird.

Later, I was at my parents and I had a young cat with me who looked just like Persephone, but had more meat on her. My dad was enjoying this cat. I think I was with Stan in this part of the dream.

Later still, I think I was back at the burned apartment building, standing on the side of it with Stan and talking to some neighbors (late 20s, early 30s) who lived nearby. I showed them an electrical wire that looked like barbed wire and asked them if it was theirs. We discussed the fire. The building was painted similar colors to ours except less subdued and maybe of a mid-value. It was very Victorian-looking and made out of brick.

Labels: Animals, Dreams

Here's a weird dream for you. I might not have had any dream at all or of any significance last night, as has been the case lately, except for these series of events that caused deep sleep and odd dreams.

This is not the dream...this is what happened yesterday. Stan and I went to Pug Play. Not too many people there because it was still so wet/end of summer lethargy/who knows. Lots of weeds growing around the park, too wet to mow, I would guess. Stan picks up a weed to examine its flower structure...such a nerd. Upon plucking evil weed, I see it release a cloud of pollen. Oh, just terrific. I could've strangled him. Shortly thereafter I start experiencing extreme throat itching and then, sneezing. I'm pretty miserable, and I'm not armed with any equipment like facial tissue, after all, I was FINE in the morning. Usually if I have allergies during the day, I pretty much wake up with them at home, not acquire them because some nerdboy picks up a wafting weed in my presence. After we left and I went back home, I downed a Claritin. Claritin does help clear up my allergies quite well, unfortunately, it also leaves a host of side effects...tiredness, jitteriness, dizziness, weakness, depression, spacyness, sleepiness, insomnia. Yes, I know sleepiness and insomnia seem mutually exclusive, but it's true. Just read this consumer review on Claritin-D. I've experienced all those symptoms when taking Clairitin except for severe diarrhea, which, I honestly don't know how someone could have that happen since Claritin dries you out like an Arizona sponge. Claritin is pretty much a last resort measure. If my sneezing is so bad that I can't do anything because I'm constantly holding tissue to nose, then I'll take a Claritin, because if I won't be productive anyway, I might as well not be productive and not sneezing as well. If I'm still able to function with the allergies, I do not take Claritin. It's just not worth it except under extreme symptoms. So, I'm pretty much a vedge...physical and mental...for the rest of the day, unable to go for a bike ride (next time, Stan, don't waft the weed, ok?). I'm pretty much unable to work on much for fear that I'll make some dumb mistake due to my absent mental acuity. Because the inability to sleep from taking Claritin, I fortunately have an old and running out prescription for Lorazepam (before the health care provider switch...hope they'll renew that) which was prescribed for taking with Claritin for exactly that reason. Lorazepam is great...it allows me to sleep. Hard. It even allows me to get back to sleep if I wake up, which I seldom can under normal conditions.

So here's the dream, caused by the somnorific effects of the Lorazepam:

Somehow I was caught up with a bunch of Stan's relatives...cousins and the like, but also with people I used to work with. IRL, I really DID work with someone, back in the old Fort Collins Stinko's days, who married a 2nd cousin (or something like that...) of Stan's. Let's see, Stan and his cousin shared the same...grandparent? Except for her they were great grandparents ('cause her mother would actually be the cousin of Stan? Would that make them second cousins once removed or what? I have no idea, since I have no relatives at all, I never learned that secret code. So she marries this guy I work with and I marry Stan...That's too small town...that's too odd, too close for comfort. It's not that we were all close or anything, we weren't...we were just acquainted. But Fort Collins is like that...everyone knows everyone. That's when I knew it was time to leave. Yet I digress.

I don't really know the plot of this dream, but it was a lighthearted, fun dream. I'm with the husband of Stan's 2nd cousin (as mentioned above), and I'm with a supervisor I had at Depression's...two different co-workers, from two different times in two different states. We're in a car, and another one of Stan's cousins is driving (the cousin who we frequently visit when we go out west). It sort of looks like him, but it also looks like Dick Smothers. Yes, Dick Smothers, I kid you not. When you think about it, though, he has a younger brother who would be Tom Smothers, the dorkier one, and this cousin of Stan's would definitely be Dick, the straight man. The Smothers Brothers? WTF? So we're driving around in a car and the supervisor from Depressions and I are joking and in a jovial way I am putting her in her place for suspecting I was a bad worker or bad seed or something. I don't know if this was in fact true for this person, but it was in the dream. She also looked nothing like she did IRL. In the dream she looked like the wife of of a mob boss. This dream seemed to last a long time, and when I woke up, I was listening to the radio and they announced the name of the guest they had been talking to. Now here's the weird part. The name of the guest was the SAME NAME of the father of Stan's cousin who married the guy I worked with at Stinko's. Sure, it's a common name (like Mike Jones...not Mike Jones, but similarly common), but still. WEIRD. I also know that this could not have influenced my dream because the show hadn't been going on as long as my dream had. My dream had started much sooner than that show.

"A lot o' people don't realize what's really going on. They view life as a bunch o' unconnected incidents 'n things. They don't realize that there's this, like, lattice o' coincidence that lays on top o' everything. Give you an example; show you what I mean: suppose you're thinkin' about a plate o' shrimp. Suddenly someone'll say, like, plate, or shrimp, or plate o' shrimp out of the blue, no explanation. No point in lookin' for one, either. It's all part of a cosmic unconciousness." -Miller in Repo Man

Labels: Dreams, WTF

I was in a house that seemed to have been in a natural disaster like a tornado or hurricane. I didn't recognize this place as anywhere I've lived. I was talking on the phone to some woman, and then someone else comes on the line, and it's Sylvester Stallone. WTF. He says how he likes listening to her program, and then I realize I'm talking on some talk show.

Sylvester Stallone? WTF?!?!?!?!??! Yuck! Dreamwriters and directors, get someone decent in here, will you? What, you say I don't have the budget for Eastwood or DeNiro? Oh yeah, blame it on the producer.

The dream continues...I go outside and there are these large snails/small mollusks that are hopping around in pools outside. I never knew mollusks could hop (they can't). Some of them look like kittens...10 week old brownish-ginger-colored kittens. They're really cute, so I pick one up and go back in the house to show people. It's very hard to handle and seems much more feral than any kitten I've held. It's pawing and biting and trying to get away. I'm trying to keep it away from the other cats in the house. I'm talking to someone--I don't know who it is--but I'm trying to convince them that I don't want to KEEP the kittensnail, I just want to show it to them because it's so unusual that a snail looks like a kitten.

Labels: Animals, Dreams, WTF

What a unique time in history! Starting in September, we will have the first lobotomized president in office! Karl Rove, aka Bush's Brain, is leaving at the end of this month.

I heard this on the news this morning, but I was extremely tired and didn't process it other than to incorporate it into my dreams. I dreamt I was watching Karl Rove, but I didn't know whether it was in person or on TV. He looked different than he did IRL...he was taller, skinnier, extremely disheveled ...he had scraggly wavy long hair tied in a pony tail, sometimes it was dark, other times it was grey, with facial hair. He was wearing a leather vest and jeans. He looked like a stuck-in-the-70s drug addict one would find around the downtown saloons in Fort Collins in the 1980s. He kept moving around, twitching, jerking, like drug addicts often do, not stiff like he was IRL like during his Horrible Hip Hop "MC Rove" performance at a press dinner several months ago.

While I was "watching" this Karl Rove thing, I was also being pawed by some guy while I was in a store looking at beads and jewelry. It was turning me on. I thought maybe I could use him, but then figured it wouldn't be fair to Stan.

Labels: Dreams, Politically Incorrect

I dreamt I was a part of "LOST", except the only character in my dream that was the same as the TV show was Jin, and he was pretty out of character (damn, where's my Desmond dream?). In fact, the island wasn't even part of the dream! How much does that suck to not even dream you're on a tropical island? The Island was in fact an old house, like an old, dark bungalow sort of like my grandmother's was if you didn't open the shades, except it was a lot bigger with a lot of bedrooms, which was good because there were a lot of people there. I was trying to figure out what my role was, not in terms of an acting part, but literally, what should I do to help us survive in the house? I was cleaning up areas, sorting through stuff. I was alone, not with Stan, and knew that I would have to sleep by myself on a small bed and leave the larger beds for those who were couples. I was sitting on some ledge and Jin comes by and starts talking to me, but it's in Korean and I'm having a hard time understanding, but I hear these whispers which are rough translations and it's as if he's talking dirty to me and coming on to me (which is very out of character because in the show, Jin seems very devoted to Sun and has not given any indication he is otherwise). I'm freaking out a bit and go into a room, hoping to be by myself, but it is a bedroom and there are three people there lying in a king-size bed, a woman, man and their young son. I realize the woman is someone I knew from high school, not a friend, just an acquaintance (actually, I have a friend who is friends with this woman's older sister). The woman in the bed recognizes it is me and is saying what a coincidence it is that I'm there and I'm someone she knew from high school. For some odd reason, I don't think it's a coincidence at all--but it should be, right, I mean, what are the odds? Then she's saying how this person and that person from high school are also "on the island," one of whom is named Dawn, but I didn't know a Dawn in high school (although I do on the web--obviously not the same Dawn). I had no idea who these people were that she was talking about.

Labels: Dreams, LOST, TV

I had some sort of road trip dream were Ann and I were driving in our car on some roads of unknown space. At some point on the road there was a large smashed turtle on the road and we had to go around it. It was kind of sad.

Labels: Dreams

I had a dream that I saw a butterfly in our garden with a wingspan of about 16 inches. It looked sort of like a Monarch, but more like a Queen (not found in these parts) in coloration, but the wings structure made it "squarer" as opposed to "rectangular" in dimension...if that makes sense. The color was very reddish-orange-brown-purple. I tried to catch it, and in doing so punctured its fragile wings. I felt like such an idiot for doing that.

Labels: Dreams

I had on a winter coat that I was trying to lace up like a shoe. It wasn't working too well, so I decided to get a new coat. Stan and I went to a mall that is sort of a reoccurring motif in my dreams, and I found a coat that was soft and white (white's not really my style for coats), but it too laced up. I was struggling with this lace thing, so I decided to forget about getting a coat. Then we were walking around outside either our house or some other house, and there were these Coleus plants with humungous leaves, similar to some of the varieties they have now, but the leaves were shaped differently. In this garden area I see my cat, Persephone walking around and throwing up all the time as soon as she eats anything. Stan and I take her and put her in the car. We are driving on a street that is similar to Bluemound in Milwaukee or Midvale in Madison. It wasn't one of those streets, and I don't know what city we were in, but the main feel of the streets were similar. The back windows are open, and we drive over some roadkill. Persephone must've smelled the roadkill, and she jumps out of the window. Instead of stopping for her immediately, we continue driving. There is a third person in the car, but I don't know who it is. We park somewhere, and all three of us start going different directions, except Stan and I are sort of going the same general direction, back to where Persephone jumped out. I see something in the road several blocks away, and figure it was the roadkill we ran over. I see birds and other animals picking at it. As we get closer, I also see Persephone there, but she has changed into our cat who died 6 years ago, Natasha. This Persephone/Natasha cat is going around biting chunks off everything she sees, then throwing it back up. It's quite disgusting. I woke up from that dream with quite a disturbed feeling.

Later, I dream that I am in a department store and accompanying a woman who is maybe in her 50s or 60s and seems disabled somehow. We find an escalator, and the "down" one is blacked out, so we ride the "up" one, but it seems to be going down. She gets on and is several steps ahead of me and she is trembling a lot. I am afraid she is going to fall. I walk toward her to help her, but there are other people in front of me and I can't seem to get to her.

Labels: Dreams

My dreams were like a patchwork quilt last night, a little bit of this, a little of that, with no discernible structure, plotline or composition. IRL In the morning around 7 or so, I was listening to the radio and they were talking about airline travel tips. This must have crept into my dreams because I was able to make out one vague snippet:

Stan and I were in an airport or someplace far away, possibly in Europe (I've never been there). I looked out the windows and everything looked like a black and white print or photocopy of large, old buildings. Nothing was in color. It became late at night and we were hungry, so we walked a long way in the airport to a cafeteria that was still open, but just barely. Instead of a cafeteria line, it was more like a loosely arranged grocery store produce department, where you picked your food from little stands as opposed to a tray line. Nothing looked appetizing to me except for some fried chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy, but I couldn't get to it because this big SUV-driving American male tourist was in my way and wouldn't budge. Finally he left, and I was able to check out the chicken. I also saw some pine cones laid out by the mashed potatoes. I thought it was odd that they were serving pine cones to eat--I don't think these were from piñon pines either.

Labels: Dreams

I was travelling east on I-80 around Grand Island, Nebraska. An old pickup merges onto the interstate in front of us, cutting us off. It seemed like the interstate was more like a country highway (like Highway 34 on the plains of Colorado around "Masters" or "Deerfield") because there was an old decrepit building/former gas station on the corner of where the pickup truck guy pulls in. I know there was more to the dream because I remember remembering it after I woke up, but I since forgot it after I went back to sleep.

Our back yard must have been fenced because our dogs were out in it unattended. Lucifer Sam kept peeing through the fence onto the neighbor's lawn where they had things growing underneath large square clay pots. Our neighbor Mary was getting mad at Lucifer Sam because he was doing this and she was telling him to stop. So I went out back to scold him and tell him to stop. IRL, Plato could pee that way, but since Lucifer Sam was potty trained early, he pees like a girl, squatting, not lifting. The people we got our first Pug, Hieronymus, from said this can be done with male Pugs if trained early enough, however Hieronymus, despite being a very good dog in the potty training department, still lifted. Then I was given (by whom?) a new dog, small, maybe a hound/terrier mix, brown and black with very soft, white fur. It was pretty young, and I decided to keep the dog for ourselves, even though we already had enough dogs. I was outside in our back yard holding it, and Stan comes up to me and I show him and Mary the dog. He asks what the dog's name is, and on the spot I say "Basketweave." (This is a name of one of my Dingbat Fonts) I then follow up with, "Or maybe Basketcase." Then I'm watching Plato who is by the garage near the terraced area, except in the dream it is flat. [GROSS PART]He starts to poop, but then he starts pooping out this foamy white liquid, and then he starts pooping this long rope of poop about a meter long. Then he starts losing his balance and rolling around in it. [/GROSS PART] I'm freaking out, thinking he is dying. The thing is, this dog didn't look like Plato, it looked more like our neighbor's dog Sunday, a blue heeler/Lab/whatever mix, except it had more white on it. Then the dog sits on a chair (seems like we're inside now). I come back to it later to see if it is alive, and it is, but it seems very sick. I am thinking that it was ironic I got a new dog, and then this old dog is about to die.

Labels: Animals, Dreams

I had one of those reoccurring dreams where I'm looking through the closet in the room in my parent's house which used to be my bedroom 30 years ago. I know that I'll find clothes, especially tops, that I haven't worn for years--and that mysteriously still fit and are still stylish--and I do. I'm trying on all these clothes that I'd forgotten about that I can now wear again. Then the room mutates into my own bedroom, sort of, except it is more like a long van or a bus that is parked out on the side of our house in place of where our bedroom is. The logistics of placing any vehicle in our yard IRL is literally impossible due to the various retaining walls and concrete steps on the street and the alley. And even if there was an accessible grassy slope to drive a vehicle up there, there'd be no room on that side of the house, unless one removed the bedroom. I'm sitting a few seats back in the bus/van. I'm not sure what I'm doing...reading? Working on my laptop? Just waiting? There's a drunken Keith Richards-esque guy across the street (not Keith, but acts/looks like him) standing on a retaining wall, babbling and shouting. IRL, there is no retaining wall across the street. There is a woman walking by my side of the bus and she looks in and sees me. She is no one I know IRL, but I know her somehow in the dream. She comes on the bus. I forget what happened next.

Edited to add:

I do remember what happened after the woman came onto the bus! The bus mutated into a restaurant, and there were other people there. I was given a menu, possibly by a waitress who might have been the same woman who walked on the "bus." I started reading the menu, and I told the waitress that I didn't recognize the writing. There was a man sitting across the aisle who I think was Stan's father, although his nose wasn't as big and he looked a little more average ya-hey Wisconsinish rather than a cross between Alan Ginsberg and Francis Ford Coppolla. He looked over at me, at which point either the waitress or he gave me different menu. This time I "recognized" it, however I don't really know what recognizing it entailed.

Labels: Dreams

I dreamt my hair was much lighter and permed and I was applying gobs of magenta-purple lipgloss/lipstick. (I remember I had some lipgloss like that from the 70s or 80s--not as purple a color, though--it was applied with an applicator wand, and it didn't feel creamy like lipstick, but instead like an actual glazing material that covered your lips like vinyl.) Then I used a darker color of lip outliner and surrounded my lips, but I was drawing on my face, not my lips, so I must've looked like some bimbo clown. Stan found me attractive, though. Who knows why.

Labels: Dreams

I was in a living-room-like space, possibly my parent's living room, but that didn't seem quite right even though I think at least my mom was present. There was a Chihuahua* sitting in a small high chair, like where you put a baby. It started urinating, but not in the chair. It was straining really hard and produced a really strong, long pee stream, shooting it in a long, thick arc onto the carpet. (Must have taken one of those male urinary enhancement drugs...uh oh, here come the Google searches). Instead of grabbing the dog and putting it outside, I just let it urinate, and then told my mom about it because she didn't even see it, even though she was watching it. My mom couldn't see the wetness on the floor, so I showed her a trick (which only works in this dream) of putting down a towel in the general area and it would soak up the pee in yellow (not wet, but dry sulfur yellow) patches.

I was in the flat Stan and I lived in for a year when we first moved to Madison. I was getting ready to leave to go someplace with a large manilla envelope. As I went out the door, I noticed another large envelope in the mail box. It was raining, and I was afraid my envelope would get wet. I know this dream segment sounds mundane, but it was a bit eerie and surreal that can't translate well in its retelling.

Labels: Dreams

DREAM 1, before Stan left: I was at the home (looked like a bungalow from California...lots of yellow color on the walls) of some guy who was in a washed-up hair farmer band from the 80s. I have no idea who it was, probably just invented for the dream. Other people were at the house as well, including his (former) bandmates. I think this guy was the vocalist. He had long wavy brown hair, maybe about 5'9" and pretty non-descript. A few of his other bandmates had bleached blond hair. I HATE 80s HAIRFARMER BANDS. Why the hell was I dreaming about this? The odd thing was, is that most hair bands from the 80s are probably around my age now, but this guy seemed younger, like he was in his 30s. Despite the fact he was a lead singer for a hairfarmer band, he seemed like a pretty nice guy without the usual pretensions I would expect out of someone like that. Call me prejudiced. These guys wives were there too, but they were off doing wife things, like chatting in another room away from the rest of us. They seemed like plastic professional offices types, not what I would expect to be married to hairband rockstars (OK, here I go with the prejudice again). We all went into a very large dark room with a large screen on the wall. We sat around in a circle while images were projected on the screen. The images were rather artfully done, digitally produced with lots of blacks, greys, whites and maroon-toned colors. It's hard to explain, but one person discussed something from one of the images, and then chose another person in the room to continue along the same lines. This game went back and forth between the people in the room, but I didn't understand the concept of this game, so I was hoping I never got a turn at this.

DREAM 2, after Stan left: I dreamt I went up to Canada with Stan. We were standing around in a very dark public area, like a bar at a restaurant. One of Stan's current coworkers, a young guy who is also an artist, was there, except it didn't look like him. The guy in the dream was shorter, wore glasses, had a weird crew cut with dark hair and grey hair that was balding on the top, and just generally looked goofy. A waitress/hostess/bartender started talking to us about marijuana and said that it's legal here in Canada. I thought it would be fun to get some and take it back to our hotel. I can't remember if we actually acquired some or not. Then I started thinking, "that can't be right...it can't be legal for recreational use." And then I started thinking that if we got caught with it, I'd tell them I have some sort of medical condition. Then I was freaking out about thinking what would happen to an American getting caught with drugs in a foreign country. I can't remember what else happened, other than I started feeling really strange, but I think it was just that feeling you sometimes get when you're trying to wake up.

Labels: Dreams, WTF

I was at some sort of seated event outside, like a small concert. I was with Stan, possibly some other people (men--I was the only woman) and Anthony Bourdain! He was sitting with us and talking to us like we were old friends. I was feeling really happy knowing that Tony was a friend. I think we were also walking around a downtown area of someplace like Boulder or State Street in Madison. I remember lots of shops...I also remember some sort of Hindu shop with Indian things.

Here's the odd part, later Stan and I go off to eat, but Tony's not with us. How ironic is that? Stan and I are having a helluva time finding a place to eat. We were partly driving/partly walking (you can do that in dreams) around a downtown area of a small western town. We finally found a place to eat, outside of a small coffee shop/cafe that was very expensive. We sat at a table and the waitress brought us out menus. Then there was a woman who put her stuff down on our table as if she was going to sit there too, as if we didn't even exist.

Labels: Dreams

Ever have a dream that you can't remember, but then you'll come across something during the day that'll either cause you to remember the dream in great detail, or just allow you to recognize you had a dream about a certain subject, but not remember a thing about it? I can't remember the setting or circumstances, but I think I had a dream about Billy Mumphrey. Or at least about the manuscript.

"You see Elaine, Billy was a simple country boy. You might say a cockeyed optimist, who got himself mixed up in the high stakes game of world diplomacy and international intrigue."

Labels: Dreams

I was with Stan, who was driving, and possibly someone else. Stan was trying to park our van in front of a tall house across the street that doesn't exist IRL. In fact, there were several tall houses that appeared to be over three stories tall. They were an old Victorian style, similar to some that I've seen in Chicago, with high ceilings and long, thin windows. Stan was edging the van very close to the house until he actually hit the house. He looked worried that he caused damage to it, but I don't think the impact was that hard. We went inside, and sat down in a "lobby" area. I noticed that the house had elevators, and that it went up either the 19th or 26th floor. That's not a house, that's a high-rise condominium.

----

What sucks about this is that I fear this is a promonition of horrors to come, not next year, not even a few years from now, but maybe a decade? Two decades? Our street is split down the middle politically, between "blighted" and "unblighted." We live on the "safe" side, the "unblighted" side. Across the street is defined as blighted. I say the city of Madison has a very odd definition of blight. They wouldn't know urban blight if it bit them on their well-developped suburban ass. And that's really what it's all about. They see a certain area of town, which happens to include the area across our street, as ripe for big development, big condos, tall yuppie, pricey buildings that take over modest, yet nice areas. There is nothing wrong with the homes across the street--with the exception of the house immediately across from ours, I'm sure they're in better shape and more updated than our house. It's just that it would be easy pickings, politically, to signify it as blighted, signify it as a TIF district (which I honestly don't understand the complexities of). I swear that the only reason our side of the street isn't included is because we are on a hill and it would be very difficult to excavate and construct large condo buildings here.

Labels: Dreams, Politically Incorrect

I had a dream about a small pond with frogs. The frogs were climbing up a muddy bank and jumping back into the water. I was pointing them out to Ann, who was with me and we watched them for a while.

Labels: Dreams

I dreamt two of our newts, two different species, were breeding.

Labels: Animals, Dreams

I was going up Door County with my parents. Don't know why, but Stan wasn't in the picture--usually he is. I think we all took separate cars (my mom doesn't drive IRL) and in the process we all got separated, so I was trying to call them on my cell phone (my parents don't have cells) so we could all meet someplace. I was worried that my dad forgot to bring his cellphone with him. I remember getting to Door County and seeing a beach that seemed more like an ocean than a great lake. There were large waves and people playing in the water (a bit too cold for that right now!). I know it was also more involved and convoluted, but because it was so confusing it was very hard to remember all of it.

Labels: Dreams

Haven't felt good the past few days or so. Ate some Ramen with a bad spice and it gave me bad heartburn. Haven't been able to sleep much at night, tired during the day. No time for anything.

Had a dream the other night that I was talking to a man with the same last name as mine. I was trying to find out if he lived in England (which is most likely where any relative on that side would be, but I'd have to go back many generations since my granddad's brother didn't have kids), but I must have woken up before I got an answer.

I uploaded a video Stan took of our amazing blooming orchid cactus to YouTube. I posted it over at Stan's blog. Now that I know how YouTube works, I'll have to start making movies of our animals to bore everyone with, like in the old days when people showed you slide shows after dinner of their trips out west.

Labels: Dreams, Plants, This Boring Life

I dreamt I was still in graduate school, or at least I was at the dreaded InHumanities Building in the 7th Floor Gallery. I was in an exhibition with other grad students, but I felt a bit funny about it because I felt out of it (like, 'cause I graduated already 14 years ago?). My paintings were similar to the way I painted 20 years ago, very figurative. Some of them felt unfinished, incomplete, yet I hung them anyway. There was a woman there who had created a large painting (maybe 5x6 feet) comprised of dried corncobs. It was very interesting--unique media, unique idea, good execution. I liked it, but being organic like that it wouldn't have much of a shelf-life, especially if she stored it in a barn.

Labels: Art, Dreams

I dreamt I was in a house with a couple other people, women, but we all seemed like young girls. For some reason, we, or they, had arranged for a creepy Freddy Kreuger-like guy to come to the house to scare us. Now I assume this guy was an actor-for-hire, but I was still scared. I did not want to be part of this, but I knew if I hid, he'd fine me anyway. I was thinking I could hide in a bathroom in a tub and close the shower curtain around me, but then if he found me there anyway, I'd be super scared and trapped. I felt that no matter where I hid in the house, he would find me, as if he had heat-seaking sensors like a snake. I distinctly remember part of the dream where I was in a bedroom, like my bedroom at my parent's house, except it was on the second floor, and I was looking out the window while this guy pulled up in the driveway. He got out of the car already dressed as Freddy Kreuger. At this point, I woke up. It's as if my self-defense mechanism would not allow such a scary thing to happen even in a dream.

Labels: Dreams

I was by myself driving on "Highway 12" in some unknown state through some unknown towns. I was going through one small town that seemed to be built up like a large city with lots of tunnels and overpasses and the color grey. I was keeping a watch out for highway signs as I went through some very confusing detours, and then I realized I had lost the highway and I was completely disoriented. Then it was like I was not in a car, but a pedestrian, and people, other pedestrians, were passing me by like they were cars through this tunnel/parking garage area. I was trying to ask people where Highway 12 was and everyone ignored me except for some man who started giving me directions that I didn't understand because I wasn't familiar with the area. Fortunately, I woke up. I hate dreams like that.

Labels: Dreams

I was at a party with people I didn't know, most of whom were a bit younger than me. It was either at this party or beforehand that I found out that I had been nominated for an academy award for Best Supporting Actress. Unfortunately, I don't know what movie I was in, although I am positive that it was an independent film. I was so much in shock, especially since I'm not an actress, but a visual artist. I didn't want to come across as braggy, but I was telling people at the party about it, and that I was pretty stunned to be nominated, although I was really worried because I didn't have a thing to wear for the event (and that part would definitely be true!).

---

This is one of the few wild and outlandish dreams that actually has a possible explanation:

I am one of a dozen or so Madison-area artists who will have work up for the grand opening of the Sundance Cinemas 608 here in Madison.

Labels: Dreams

Stan and I were in a city that was not Madison. It was either Milwaukee or Denver or Boulder. We were lost, and looking for a street named "Brilliant." It was an older part of town with business and residential homes that were two-story and maybe around the age of ours (around 100 or maybe older). We get to an intersection and realize the cross street was "Brilliant." Stan decides to go up to the next cross street to find the address we were looking for (I think it was 1037, but I'm not sure) because he thinks he can get through on it easier, and then take another street back on over to the block we need on Brilliant Street. This other street that runs parallel to Brilliant was creeping me out. It was sort of like an alley because all the houses backs faced to it. The houses all looked very run down and smudgey (that's the only way I can describe it), but one house had the address "1037" on it, so we figured that the house across from it on the alley, which faced Brilliant Street, was the house we wanted. I was there to pick up art or deliver art or something, but I didn't know the name of the woman I needed to talk to, however Stan seemed to know, and called out to "Lorene". I thought it was odd that her name was the same as Stan's mom. We went into the 2-story house which seemed to be subdivided into apartments. We walked up the stairs which were very narrow and shallow and would take forever if one walked up one step at a time, so I tried stepping up two steps at a time, but was a bit freaked because there was no room for even a small adult foot on a step. Lorene was no one I'd ever seen before. She was about 50 or so, dark hair, shorter than me, glasses, pretty average. Her 2nd story apartment was large and carpeted with light, almost white, thick pile carpeting. Stan sat down on a chair, but I couldn't find a chair to sit on, so I grabbed a square-shaped stool with a doily on top, but as I sat down on it I realized this was not something to sit on, but something to have things put on it like small vases, as the legs felt very wobbly beneath me. I realized I made a horrible social faux pas...I forgot what happened in the dream after that.

Labels: Dreams

DREAM: My Adventures in Flooded Bellevue at the Turn of the Century with Rasputin Guy

I was lying in a bedroom where all the furniture had an old fashioned rustic wooden quality, and the bed had an old handmade quilt. I did not recognize this bedroom as anything I've been in. There was a radio playing an NPR-like talk show but there was a bad cock 'n roll hairfarmer song on the radio, probably being used for a reason as bumper music between segments. Then Bill comes into the bedroom, and I'm so embarrassed to have this song on, worried that he'll think I'm listening to the song because I like it. I forgot where this dream fits into the following dream, pre-, middle, or post-:

I was at my parent's house and my dad was talking to us about places (locally) to drive to. Then I had to use the bathroom while they were talking to me, but the bathroom was distinctly like my own in the hallway near our bedroom, but it was also like my parent's hallway...go figure. Anyway, Stan and I take off and are driving up around Bellevue, but the terrain isn't like it is IRL at all. It is very hilly like Wisconsin or Iowa, but not mountainous like Colorado. It is also very flooded, and reminds me of the reoccurring dream where we drive to the mountains and it's cold and we get out and walk around an area with ponds and frogs and it turns warm. The road is hilly and where there's a hill, there's water rolling down the hill like a waterfall. I cannot believe the car has any traction in this, and eventually we end up parking in this big flooded pond. Stan got out, but I couldn't even push my door open because the water came up so high, so I stayed in the car. I don't know what Stan was doing...taking pictures perhaps. We parked right next to a small old frame house that looked like a boutiquey remodelling job of a genuinely old historic homestead. Then a woman who was maybe in her 50s-60s but very wrinkly came out and told us there was nothing for us here. She had brunette hair that was teased up in a bun sort of Gunsmoke Old West TV style. I think she wore a long dress with a shawl. She was adamant that we leave. But I think we went into another building instead. It was old and rustic and I was on the second floor, but the only way to get down was to climb a ladder made of tree branches. I was scared I would lose my footing. There was a man there who looked like an Eastern Orthodox monk with a long black robe and long beard...like Rasputin, except he spoke with a very regular American voice. He was helping me descend the ladder.

Labels: Dreams