Saturday, April 27, 2002
I had two parts of one dream, at least I think they were connected, however I can't remember which part came first. Maybe they were structured like a kind of movie, so that the second part could lead back into the first part, like a loop. I don't know. I think it started out with me going into a meeting of sorts. I don't know what the meeting was about, art, maybe, but the people were all sitting around in a circle. One woman entered the room who looked slightly familiar, like someone I used to know, but this woman was older, maybe around 50. She had wrinkles, but otherwise looked a youthful 50-ish. She saw me and came over to me and presented me with a grocery bag of presents and told me to pick one. I felt around in the bag. Everything was wrapped, but something felt like large kitchen implements through the wrapping paper. I picked something that didn't have quite an odd shape. I opened it...it turned out to be a book, a cookbook, I think, written by that woman. I couldn't figure out EXACTLY what kind of cookbook it was...it looked like a traditional cookbook, but I didn't know what kind of recipes. I saw something about "drinks" and was hoping that maybe it was a guide to making froufrou mixed drinks, but it was hard to tell from the cover. I thanked her profusely, however. Then the people in the room mingled informally and I had to find a bathroom. I then realized we were in Stan's biodad's house because there was a large greenhouse addition built on to it (of which I am insanely jealous because he's let it go to waste, mostly, but I won't get into that here). However because of the way situations change in dreams, I don't think it remained at Stan's dad's house as it seemed to take on an older early 1900s quality to it (his is circa 1970). I found a bathroom, it was vacant, but there were people standing around outside of it. I used it, and when I came out, I found a monitor screen that showed the interior of the bathroom. A bunch of people put our hands inside the bathroom door while looking at the monitor and we could see our hands inside the bathroom on the monitor. Although conceptually it could be freaky to think people were watching the person inside, somehow we all trusted eachother not to do that. Then it was like we were watching the monitor, but it was some stupid teen/20-something show like on MTV dealing with relationships, cheating, sex...idiot fare. Then it was like I was actually on the set of one of these ridiculous shows. For some reason I had put facial tissues in my bra to make it appear stuffed, but I wasn't myself...I was a teen/20-something bleached blonde with short hair who had a black teenage boyfriend. Then I realized "What the heck am I doing here? This is stupid." I think I left. But then did I go to that meeting with people sitting around in a circle?
Posted by Ann on 04/27/02@10:01 AM CST ..::Link::..
Friday, April 26, 2002
Pinky Rings, Dentabones and Moving Targets
Oh, this is a good one, how to wear pinky rings. I'm #1 on Google/Yahoo search. OK, you select a ring you want to wear. You make sure it fits one of your pinkies (that is the shortest, skinniest finger on your hand, assuming you have no deformities or amputations. Your hands are at the ends of your arms, which come out of your shoulders.). You decide which pinky you want to wear the ring on, left or right. You pick up the ring with the OTHER hand (the hand you will NOT be wearing the ring on). You place the ring between your forefinger and thumb of this other hand. You slide the ring over the pinky you want to wear it on. If it fits correctly, it will slide all the way down almost to the knuckle. The pinky ring should fit between the knuckle and the joint above the knuckle. That's how you wear a pinky ring. I might draw a diagram if this still is a hard concept to grasp.
My site is the only result that appears under the search dentabones recall (although that wasn't the topic of any entry of mine). Weird. I didn't even realize there was a recall.
I am pleased to announce my friend Pat Hartman, whom I've known for something like 15 years now, has her own journal/blog called Moving Target. We just got it up and running, so be sure to check it out periodically for probably more mental stimulation than I can ever offer here, as I'm primarily going to focus on my dreams from now on. It's just a great feeling to have someone you know in the physical world that you've known for a long time join you online. I've been trying to get Stan interested in this, but he's just not into it...maybe because it's because his wife hogs the online time...heh.
Posted by Ann on 04/26/02@12:00 PM CST ..::Link::..
DREAM-Mystery train three way plane expressway to your skull
The dream started out great, ended up bad. It started out with me talking to Tim. He was asking some questions...I can't recall what they were, but the answers were something like "Bob Dylan, Hibbing Minnesota, Highway 61 Revisted, and finally, Route 66." I was telling him where Route 66 went (although I've only been on a small part of it myself), and said it went from Chicago to St. Louis to New Mexico..." and as I said this, I was actually travelling on Route 66. I was saying "I wanted to ride the rails on that train" and suddenly I was on a train, except it was invisible. I was riding a ghost train down Route 66 in New Mexico. We were going quite fast, and I was afraid it would tip over. I could see the red rock cliffs as we neared the border of Arizona. There were a bunch of sheep on the road, lots of them, clogging up passage. The invisible train eventually stopped altogether, and everyone got off, mingling with the sheep. I sat down on some sort of cement parking thing, and then it seemed like I was swept up in some sort of college class. I don't remember the class specifically, but I remember going into someone's apartment. I was there with Stan, and there was a guy I remember from grad school, Kevin, and there was a woman there we know (I'm not saying who it was, but I will remember who it was when I reread this). Kevin was smoking lots of pot and was incredibly stoned. He was using one of MY decorative carnival glass bowls to sort out the pot seeds. It had a large break/chip in it. I was quite mad about that. Stan seemed to be hanging around Kevin and the other woman and neglecting me. Then I went into another room where another woman that we know was (again, I won't say who these women are, to protect their identity). She was mad because some ad she had put in the paper to sell her belongings was met with derision in an editorial. It was because she had asked a million dollars for something, and I figured it just had some sort of sentimental value to her. I was looking at stuff in her bedroom, and it all had price tags on it. She was selling a computer for $233...I wondered if it was a 233 mhz computer, but it was a 207 mhz computer. Go figure. I also saw something that had the initials "KK" on it and I was wondering if she was connected with the KKK. It was white and embossed and looked like cake frosting on a book. I don't know what the item was. Then I went back into the room with Stan, Kevin and the other woman. All three of them in bed together. They were sleeping, but they were also naked. I was extremely mad...they didn't even ask me if I needed to sleep. I woke up crying.
Posted by Ann on 04/26/02@09:29 AM CST ..::Link::..
Thursday, April 25, 2002
Dream One. I was watching some kids, maybe about 10-14 years old or so, from a distance. They had a large helium balloon, as large as a hot air balloon. They boarded it and started to rise into the atmosphere. As they were doing this, I was watching, feeling helpless. How could I stop them? How could anyone stop them? It was rather scary. Later I heard news reports that one of the kids had fallen out of the balloon on purpose, committing suicide.
Dream Two. There was this very obnoxious woman who was hanging around Stan and I. Somehow, Stan knew her when he was young, like perhaps he went to high school with her. She kept saying stuff like "Oh, Stan was quite the disco dancer back in high school." Stan and I would look at eachother in sheer amazement, because we knew that was a pack of lies. She was making herself some food that she said was Mexican, but it was more like bland American pablum. She was a total idiot. We tried our best to ignore her.
Posted by Ann on 04/25/02@08:48 AM CST ..::Link::..
Wednesday, April 24, 2002
DREAM-Sort of Like a Hurricane
I had a vivid dream but I forgot what it was once I woke up. Then when I went back to sleep, I had another. It might have picked up from where the forgotten one left off, as I do seem to recall the unretrievable one did have something to do with houses.
I was in an older house like mine or my grandmother's. I was in the front room, in front of a bunch of windows. There was a large tree in the room, like an old oak or a catalpa. I was climbing it, straddling it with my legs. There was a storm going on outisde...lots of wind. The light was dim as if it was twilight. Then it was like it was the next morning. The house wasn't as old. My mom was living there, so I assumed it was my parent's house although it didn't look anything like theirs. In fact, it didn't look like any house I've been in, although it had a very familiar quality. The front windows were now closed with venetial blinds, but outside I could see a bunch of small bricks piled up in front of the windows. I thought it might have been from the windstorm, and was hoping that the storm didn't do too much damage to the house. I thought I should notify my mom about it. I have no idea where my dad was, but there was this vast area of bedrooms toward the back of the house. It was now more modern in style, like a ranch house. There was a master bedroom, and another bedroom off the master bedroom that my mom was sleeping in. It was light green in color. I had been sleeping in a rather dark, long, windowless bedroom that had fish tanks in it. My bed was a single bed. As I was looking for my mom, I found that there were two more bedrooms, one appeared to have a sort of pink decor and had a double bed. I wondered why I couldn't sleep in that bed (I had no idea where Stan was through all of this). I realized my mom was in the master bath washing up. I told her that she needed to take a look outside at the bricks. Then when she came out, I asked her why I couldn't sleep in one of the other two rooms. She told me I wouldn't like those bedrooms, that they're not as nice. I walked into one of them, and the double bed that I previously saw was no longer there...there was just a single bed. The floor didn't seem finished...it was just plywood with a blue rug over it. It was attached to another bedroom with a pseudo door that was more like a piece of plywood that didn't close all the way; one could see over it into the next room. I opened up the door to look into the other room; there was a step down. As I stepped down, I woke up...Stan was leaning over me kissing me goodbye for the day.
Posted by Ann on 04/24/02@09:42 AM CST ..::Link::..
Tuesday, April 23, 2002
DREAMs-Anxiety in Pen
The first dream. I had some pencil drawings of people like what I did back in high school and college, plus something I had written in pencil. I had to get it photocopied, and I needed it done by 3:30 pm the following day. I went to a Kinko's or someplace and told the order taker my request. I looked at what I had written, and it was all marked up--in pen--with corrections that my mom had made. I was furious...I couldn't rewrite the thing, I had no time. I woke up screaming and woke Stan up.
The second dream. Stan and I were going on vacation. I think we were travelling with two other people, I'm not sure who, but I think they were two doofussy guys...sort of Seinfeldian. We had put off making arrangements and planning for it, so we were frantically getting ready at the last minute. I realized as we were about to leave that I hadn't even packed yet. I also realized that we hadn't even contacted our neighbors to watch our cats and water our plants. I woke up screaming and woke Stan up.
Posted by Ann on 04/23/02@08:54 AM CST ..::Link::..
Monday, April 22, 2002
DREAMs-Break from the Past at Tiffany's
This dream happened last night:
I dreamt I was at someone's house and I was going to spend the night. They got out a sleeping bag for me, but it was incredibly grungy looking. I didn't want to put my body inside of it.
And this dream I was trying to post yesterday, which I think caused my journal to blow up (am I glad I wrote this down in a separate program first!):
A very weird and vivid dream. I was...someplace...with some friends I knew from High School. One of them brought out a birthday cake, but it wasn't a cake...it was seafood on a tray and each of the seafood morsels had a candle in it. I specifically remember the sea urchins, still in their shells. There was a woman there who was rather large, height-wise, with humungous earlobes. She gave me a smothering hug which annoyed me. Then there was someone I knew from college who I used to be friends with. She was really into music and I was discussing it with her. They were putting records on a record player and listening to them. I told her I had made a record, and she said she wanted to hear it. I pulled out what looked like a gold CD, but in fact it was a 45 single. It was weird, I could wear it around my wrist like a bracelet. I was trying to catch her ear and tell her that when I knew her, I knew she liked Eno and I couldn't stand him at that time, but I've since discovered his music and now love Eno. There were other people in the room, and this ex-friend invited us to go to Tiffany's and pick out a piece of gold jewelry that we liked. First of all, we went to some sort of strange storage building that was in an apartment complex. As we walked into it, I remember the colors of rose-ish maroon. Inside, there appeared to be an Indian (Asian) family sitting in apartment watching TV. Their door was open to the main lobby. They stared at us as if we were disturbing them. Then we went into a doorway that I thought was just a storage locker, but as we entered, it was in fact this Tiffany's that my ex-friend mentioned. I didn't understand the concept of what she wanted us to do...was she going to pay for the jewelry item we selected? Or did she get a discounted price and then we'd have to pay her back? I looked around at all this jewelry that was thrown together like someone's old costume jewelry box. For Tiffany's, items sure seemed of very low, junky quality. I was having a hard time finding something I liked. There was a gold ring in the shape of a snake set with rubies that was rather cute, but one of the other people that was with us selected that before I could. It was getting rather late and I still hadn't made my selection, they still hadn't listened to my CD, and I felt all this was just feel-good talk. Then I found myself outside of the apartment/Tiffany's building in a courtyard which was sort of like the courtyard by Tim's condo, or an area on any university campus with large old trees. There was this animal that appeared to be part bear and part large dog (Pressa Canario? the dogs that killed the woman in San Francisco) that started to climb up one of the trees. Then it came down and started to chase me. I ran back into the storage building and found a restroom to hide from it. There were other people in the restroom and they were discussing techniques to hide from these animals. We were all washing our hands...they said something about the smell of soap would scare them away. I can't remember what happened after that, but I do remember someone handing me a phone and David Lynch was on the other end. I didn't know what to say him ("I really like your movies" is so lame) so I ended up saying something really mixed up that didn't make any sense.
Posted by Ann on 04/22/02@05:15 PM CST ..::Link::..
Journal Blew Up
Something went kablooie. I don't know if it was something I did, but I know for a fact that my server was having problems yesterday, and as it was having these problems (that I didn't know about until it was too late), I tried to post. Said post didn't take, and it was downhill since then. I tried to install Movable Type, and the installation went fine, but when I looked at the templates and saw everything was in xml instead of old fashion html, well, that scared me off. I thought, "Hey, life's too short. Why not just go back to Blogger?" Then I looked at all the little square day and month graphics I created back when I first started this site in the middle of December, most of which I won't get to use now if I change from my Greymatter template. So I thought I'd just re-install Greymatter (in a different location) and keep everything the way it was. That'd save me a lot of work, and well, life's just too short to make yet another web template for myself. Plus, I have Photoshop 7 to research!
All the old archived entries are still there (look to the right), it's just that the comments have been disabled on all entries before today.
Heck, life's too short to write all this techie drivel, but I thought I did owe some explanation of what happened and why certain things have changed.
Posted by Ann on 04/22/02@02:25 PM CST ..::Link::..
Yes, I'm beginning to get impatient
I think I just screwed it up again.