I had a disturbing dream the other night which brought to the surface one of my little hang-ups.
I dreamed that I was in some kind of gift shop/tourist shop/tattoo and piercing place. I was wandering around from room to room (it was almost as though it had been added onto as it grew). In the building were M (a work acquaintance), my sister E., and my ex-husband.
I was killing time because somehow I knew that the other three people in the dream were planning to either give or attend a big party and I was kind of lingering around to give them a chance to invite me. At the same time, though, I wanted to play it cool in case they weren't planning to invite me (this is where my hang-up comes in...I'm often not invited to social events for whatever reason).
I wandered through the tattoo/piercing place, where my ex was getting a really gory and weird piercing somewhere on his neck. I was grossed out, so I wandered on. M was leaning against the wall in another room, so I gave a vague smile and passed on. I looked around a room full of tourist knick-knacks, and decided to give it one more pass-through.
I started to go back to the rooms with the people I knew, but through the cracks in the door, I saw one of them donning a costume for the party. It was a Sideshow Bob costume, and the hair/wig was enormous, easily larger than the person wearing it. I realized that they'd decided not to invite me (or had forgotten me), so I went out to the parking lot and got in my car. It turned out to be a rental car, so I thought, "Well, since I'm not busy tonight, I'll just get this returned early."
Showing posts with label Curly Sue. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Curly Sue. Show all posts
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
some non-gory but brutal violence, and an excessive amount of detail
I'm completely overwhelmed by all the dreams I've had lately. For one thing, I feel like I've only remembered a tiny percentage of fragments; for another, they've been insanely and excessively detailed (noticeably more than usual, which is saying a lot). I guess I'll just start with some snippets in no particular order and see how far I get.
++++++++++++++++++++
This morning before work (in real life) I logged in to Yahoo IM in hopes of talking to a friend in a faraway time zone who's been wanting to chat for a while. Then I realized that I was falling asleep, so I turned the volume way up on the computer in hopes of waking up with the little window-opening noise if he tried to chat with me. That's the real-life background.
In the dream, I was sleeping in my house (except that of course it was slightly different, both in the house's characteristics and the location, which was more wooded). In the dream I also had the computer on while I slept (for the same reason), so I was sleeping a bit fitfully. [I find it weird when dreams parallel real life so closely, especially when I dream that I'm asleep.] I ended up waking up to find that my husband had been there, which surprised me since he had already gone to work and is usually way too busy to come back home. He was trying to sleep in a gigantic king-size bed in a different bedroom (our house had morphed again), and said that he had come home the previous morning too.
That was the boring part. I got into bed intending to sleep some more, and woke up to hear strange sounds outside. We got up and looked out the window, and finally figured out that it was a disgruntled former coworker of my husband, shooting randomly with a shotgun (it must have been a pretty wimpy shotgun, because the sounds weren't very loud). We weren't sure what to do, but before we had decided on a course of action I heard noises in the house. He had somehow gotten inside and was waving his gun around, ranting and raving. I went out into the living room, and he shot wildly and missed the side of my head. Obviously something had to be done, so I picked up a greenish marble cutting board (not something we own) and gave him several solid blows to the head. He slumped over a countertop and I hit him several more times, very much in the way you'd crush a cockroach to be sure it was dead (there was no gore, at least). Then I produced a small pistol out of the blue (we don't have a pistol either) and shot him in the temple to be really sure--no gore there, either. The pistol was just as wimpy as his shotgun--no kick, and not much noise. It occurred to me to wonder why I hadn't found a bigger gun, but this one seemed to have done the job.
Of course after that I was stressed about what to do, not to mention extremely disturbed at having just killed someone (in self-defense, but still, the repeated head-bashing was a little much). Fortunately my alarm went off then.
++++++++++++++++++
Another recent dream involved living in a dorm modeled loosely after my high-school dorm (where, thankfully, I didn't actually have to live). The rooms were very small and the hallways were narrow, and it was set up so that people in the hallway could peek through large cracks in western-saloon type doors and see what was going on in the bathrooms. There wasn't much of a plot, just an overwhelming amount of stuff all over--my stuff, other people's stuff, just all kinds of objects crammed into every available space. At one point I took a bath in some random stranger's bathtub, and the bathroom was chock full of all kinds of toiletries and shampoo. After that I visited my sister in her room and spent some time going through her selection of jewelry, which was a lot of ethnic and vintage stuff. I remember a necklace of jet beads carved into the shape of rosebuds, almost like a rosary, and a curious thing from Czechoslovakia: an egg-shaped container of very thin wood with decorative painting. I opened it up to find that it was full of tiny pins out of the same very thin wood, in lots of different shapes (people, geometric shapes, etc.), meant to be combined in different configurations. I was extremely impressed with her collection.
The dorm then changed a little bit, and I was in an upstairs room helping Curly Sue (who actually had to live in the aforementioned high-school dorm!) move to a different facility. It turned out that she had been incarcerated for some not-too-serious offense and was graduating to a lower-security facility. It can't have been anything too serious, because her mother was there helping with the move, and she didn't seem too disturbed about her daughter's crime/incarceration. Also, in conversation with them I remembered that my dad had recently had a similar stint behind bars.
The funny random detail here is that she was wearing several hats (literally, not figuratively). She had layered two or three knit caps of various textures on her head, and she changed these at least once during the dream. The consistent thing was that the hat on top was always just balanced rakishly on top of the others, not pulled down over her head. I found it curious and didn't completely comprehend the reason she offhandedly gave for her distinctive headgear styling, but I let it drop.
++++++++++++++++++
That's just a couple; maybe I'll give it another try later. Stay tuned for not just one but TWO dust-ups in thrift stores; an anthropological exploration of either Afghanistan or Macedonia, depending on which part of the dream you believe; and an outpouring of emotion for an adoptive father (??).
++++++++++++++++++++
This morning before work (in real life) I logged in to Yahoo IM in hopes of talking to a friend in a faraway time zone who's been wanting to chat for a while. Then I realized that I was falling asleep, so I turned the volume way up on the computer in hopes of waking up with the little window-opening noise if he tried to chat with me. That's the real-life background.
In the dream, I was sleeping in my house (except that of course it was slightly different, both in the house's characteristics and the location, which was more wooded). In the dream I also had the computer on while I slept (for the same reason), so I was sleeping a bit fitfully. [I find it weird when dreams parallel real life so closely, especially when I dream that I'm asleep.] I ended up waking up to find that my husband had been there, which surprised me since he had already gone to work and is usually way too busy to come back home. He was trying to sleep in a gigantic king-size bed in a different bedroom (our house had morphed again), and said that he had come home the previous morning too.
That was the boring part. I got into bed intending to sleep some more, and woke up to hear strange sounds outside. We got up and looked out the window, and finally figured out that it was a disgruntled former coworker of my husband, shooting randomly with a shotgun (it must have been a pretty wimpy shotgun, because the sounds weren't very loud). We weren't sure what to do, but before we had decided on a course of action I heard noises in the house. He had somehow gotten inside and was waving his gun around, ranting and raving. I went out into the living room, and he shot wildly and missed the side of my head. Obviously something had to be done, so I picked up a greenish marble cutting board (not something we own) and gave him several solid blows to the head. He slumped over a countertop and I hit him several more times, very much in the way you'd crush a cockroach to be sure it was dead (there was no gore, at least). Then I produced a small pistol out of the blue (we don't have a pistol either) and shot him in the temple to be really sure--no gore there, either. The pistol was just as wimpy as his shotgun--no kick, and not much noise. It occurred to me to wonder why I hadn't found a bigger gun, but this one seemed to have done the job.
Of course after that I was stressed about what to do, not to mention extremely disturbed at having just killed someone (in self-defense, but still, the repeated head-bashing was a little much). Fortunately my alarm went off then.
++++++++++++++++++
Another recent dream involved living in a dorm modeled loosely after my high-school dorm (where, thankfully, I didn't actually have to live). The rooms were very small and the hallways were narrow, and it was set up so that people in the hallway could peek through large cracks in western-saloon type doors and see what was going on in the bathrooms. There wasn't much of a plot, just an overwhelming amount of stuff all over--my stuff, other people's stuff, just all kinds of objects crammed into every available space. At one point I took a bath in some random stranger's bathtub, and the bathroom was chock full of all kinds of toiletries and shampoo. After that I visited my sister in her room and spent some time going through her selection of jewelry, which was a lot of ethnic and vintage stuff. I remember a necklace of jet beads carved into the shape of rosebuds, almost like a rosary, and a curious thing from Czechoslovakia: an egg-shaped container of very thin wood with decorative painting. I opened it up to find that it was full of tiny pins out of the same very thin wood, in lots of different shapes (people, geometric shapes, etc.), meant to be combined in different configurations. I was extremely impressed with her collection.
The dorm then changed a little bit, and I was in an upstairs room helping Curly Sue (who actually had to live in the aforementioned high-school dorm!) move to a different facility. It turned out that she had been incarcerated for some not-too-serious offense and was graduating to a lower-security facility. It can't have been anything too serious, because her mother was there helping with the move, and she didn't seem too disturbed about her daughter's crime/incarceration. Also, in conversation with them I remembered that my dad had recently had a similar stint behind bars.
The funny random detail here is that she was wearing several hats (literally, not figuratively). She had layered two or three knit caps of various textures on her head, and she changed these at least once during the dream. The consistent thing was that the hat on top was always just balanced rakishly on top of the others, not pulled down over her head. I found it curious and didn't completely comprehend the reason she offhandedly gave for her distinctive headgear styling, but I let it drop.
++++++++++++++++++
That's just a couple; maybe I'll give it another try later. Stay tuned for not just one but TWO dust-ups in thrift stores; an anthropological exploration of either Afghanistan or Macedonia, depending on which part of the dream you believe; and an outpouring of emotion for an adoptive father (??).
Thursday, August 12, 2010
more group trips, and a trompe-l'oeil bird
My brain is back to its old tricks, apparently--I had another group trip dream last night. It was a combination group trip/family reunion. All of the extended family members from my dad's side had met at some location far from where anyone lived. The first part of the dream involved some socializing with older relatives. Then someone tried to do an organized activity, and encouraged us to break up into groups of 3 or 4 (I've never been all that keen on activities involving a structured forming into groups). For some reason, a real-life friend (Curly Sue, as it happens) was also there at the reunion, so we formed a group with two of my younger cousins. In real life, one is my age and one is a few years younger, but in the dream they were teenagers, probably because I haven't seen them for years. We started talking to them, and I was aware that I was feeling happy about being the cool older relative (and simultaneously really annoyed at both the feeling and the awareness of the feeling; my self-analyzer just won't ever leave me alone!).
After that, the group broke up pretty quickly and people started leaving. I guess we had planned to have a "friends" outing after the family reunion, because I was supposed to meet another real-life friend. I did some random wandering around, and then Curly Sue and I met her at a cafe that bore a strange resemblance to a cross between a laundromat and a Chinese restaurant.
This friend recently had a baby in real life, but in the dream she had apparently, in addition to having her real-life baby, had another baby who was still-born. She started talking about how she was looking forward to the second coming (of Christ, that is) because then her baby would "rise first" with a wave of other babies who had been still-born. In real life I'm not quite clear on the various Christian denominations' views on this, but in the dream she held a view that was supposedly the "evangelical view". She said that she and her husband hadn't thought they had any particular religious views, until the birth of the still-born baby, and then, very abruptly, they "saw the light" (she worded it more gracefully than that) and suddenly started subscribing to this mainstream theology. She even had a printout of something referring to the mass resurrection of still-born babies, some sort of liturgical thing printed out on the typical half-page paper with poor copy quality. I think both Curly Sue and I were a bit surprised at this, but she made it clear that she hadn't become a hardcore conservative and was still her old, open-minded self, so we figured it was a good way for her to adjust to and accept the death of the baby.
After that, I went on a hike with the other friend (not Curly Sue), and we ended up on a very steep scaffolding-like section of trail above a boardwalk (almost Coney Island style, but with less people and more nature). There was an odd encounter with a little bird. It was hopping around, and I noticed it looked strange. I realized that the actual bird had been encased in a covering (made from an old sock!) painted to look like a bird. I managed to catch the bird and remove the covering. It was a bit unsettling, but the bird seemed to be happy either way (with or without the trompe-l'oeil covering).
After that, the group broke up pretty quickly and people started leaving. I guess we had planned to have a "friends" outing after the family reunion, because I was supposed to meet another real-life friend. I did some random wandering around, and then Curly Sue and I met her at a cafe that bore a strange resemblance to a cross between a laundromat and a Chinese restaurant.
This friend recently had a baby in real life, but in the dream she had apparently, in addition to having her real-life baby, had another baby who was still-born. She started talking about how she was looking forward to the second coming (of Christ, that is) because then her baby would "rise first" with a wave of other babies who had been still-born. In real life I'm not quite clear on the various Christian denominations' views on this, but in the dream she held a view that was supposedly the "evangelical view". She said that she and her husband hadn't thought they had any particular religious views, until the birth of the still-born baby, and then, very abruptly, they "saw the light" (she worded it more gracefully than that) and suddenly started subscribing to this mainstream theology. She even had a printout of something referring to the mass resurrection of still-born babies, some sort of liturgical thing printed out on the typical half-page paper with poor copy quality. I think both Curly Sue and I were a bit surprised at this, but she made it clear that she hadn't become a hardcore conservative and was still her old, open-minded self, so we figured it was a good way for her to adjust to and accept the death of the baby.
After that, I went on a hike with the other friend (not Curly Sue), and we ended up on a very steep scaffolding-like section of trail above a boardwalk (almost Coney Island style, but with less people and more nature). There was an odd encounter with a little bird. It was hopping around, and I noticed it looked strange. I realized that the actual bird had been encased in a covering (made from an old sock!) painted to look like a bird. I managed to catch the bird and remove the covering. It was a bit unsettling, but the bird seemed to be happy either way (with or without the trompe-l'oeil covering).
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Used Car Saleswoman
In this dream, I was scouting around for a new job (as is always the case in real life). I'd decided to try out selling used cars (?!). In a dingy, dirty, run-down part of the city, an older black man who owned a used car lot decided to give me a chance.
This was a tiny car lot, squeezed onto a street corner. It wasn't even a square lot, but was very irregularly shaped, hemmed in my a huge chain link fence topped by razor wire. The main office was in an old RV or bus.
The owner of the business gave me two crisp hundred dollar bills, presumably to use in Making Deals. And then he kind of left me to it. I was pretty nervous, since I've never sold anything to anyone in my life.
Pretty soon, however, a small group of middle-class white people showed up, though not to buy a car. It turned out that the owner of the car lot was involved in the local at-risk-teens program, and these white people were delivering some kind of program materials and some money for him to run it.
They were kind of milling around, so a woman (much shorter than me) started asking me about myself. I told her I was just trying out this job because I was dissatisfied with my current job. She said she could tell that I was smart and a nice person, and she knew of a place that was hiring, and that it would be perfect for me.
I was kind of excited, so I asked for details. She said that the job was in a library. I was pretty let down, since that's my current job, and I told her that I already worked in a library.
This was a tiny car lot, squeezed onto a street corner. It wasn't even a square lot, but was very irregularly shaped, hemmed in my a huge chain link fence topped by razor wire. The main office was in an old RV or bus.
The owner of the business gave me two crisp hundred dollar bills, presumably to use in Making Deals. And then he kind of left me to it. I was pretty nervous, since I've never sold anything to anyone in my life.
Pretty soon, however, a small group of middle-class white people showed up, though not to buy a car. It turned out that the owner of the car lot was involved in the local at-risk-teens program, and these white people were delivering some kind of program materials and some money for him to run it.
They were kind of milling around, so a woman (much shorter than me) started asking me about myself. I told her I was just trying out this job because I was dissatisfied with my current job. She said she could tell that I was smart and a nice person, and she knew of a place that was hiring, and that it would be perfect for me.
I was kind of excited, so I asked for details. She said that the job was in a library. I was pretty let down, since that's my current job, and I told her that I already worked in a library.
Labels:
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Devil at the Party
This was one of the dreams in which I'm sometimes observing the action, and sometimes a direct participant.
I dreamed I was at a party of some kind, with lots of people just sitting around in a living room or a patio. At first, I was sitting there, enjoying myself, but then I started to realize that a person sitting across from me was actually evil. This person seemed to shift from a man to a woman, so I couldn't say for sure which it was. But she/he was evil.
As I came to realize this, the devil just kept staring at me, and I knew that she/he knew that I'd figured it out. Somehow I feared that it could sort of read my mind.
Then I switched to observing. A younger kid went to the bathroom and figured out that the devil was at the party. He poked his head out of the bathroom and signaled to his mom to come to help him. But he really wanted to tell her about the evil person. She came to the bathroom and decided to give him a bath. But when she turned to get a towel, the boy seized up and just died instantly. She fished him out of the tub, where he'd sunk. She was scared and freaking out, but she knew she had to keep a low profile.
Then I was back in the living room. I knew what had happened in the bathroom, and then it suddenly became clear to me that the dead kid was really my sister. I started trying to signal to a friend that this evil person was in the room. I still suspected, however, that the evil person could read my mind. She/he just kept sitting across from me, wearing a small, ironic smile that was just for me. She/he knew that I was going to try to spread the word, but she/he also knew that I was afraid that more deaths would take place.
I dreamed I was at a party of some kind, with lots of people just sitting around in a living room or a patio. At first, I was sitting there, enjoying myself, but then I started to realize that a person sitting across from me was actually evil. This person seemed to shift from a man to a woman, so I couldn't say for sure which it was. But she/he was evil.
As I came to realize this, the devil just kept staring at me, and I knew that she/he knew that I'd figured it out. Somehow I feared that it could sort of read my mind.
Then I switched to observing. A younger kid went to the bathroom and figured out that the devil was at the party. He poked his head out of the bathroom and signaled to his mom to come to help him. But he really wanted to tell her about the evil person. She came to the bathroom and decided to give him a bath. But when she turned to get a towel, the boy seized up and just died instantly. She fished him out of the tub, where he'd sunk. She was scared and freaking out, but she knew she had to keep a low profile.
Then I was back in the living room. I knew what had happened in the bathroom, and then it suddenly became clear to me that the dead kid was really my sister. I started trying to signal to a friend that this evil person was in the room. I still suspected, however, that the evil person could read my mind. She/he just kept sitting across from me, wearing a small, ironic smile that was just for me. She/he knew that I was going to try to spread the word, but she/he also knew that I was afraid that more deaths would take place.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
prostitution, partying, and megastores
Guess who had another group-trip dream? This one was to Italy (or an Italy-like country). In the first part, I was walking around an old city square. It wasn't as idyllic as it sounds, though. There were various construction things around (those wooden sidewalk-cover tunnels, mostly), and a fair amount of trash. There were also a lot of youngish men loitering and walking around*. They were invariably small, kind of greasy, tackily dressed (tracksuits, gold chains, and curly mullets figured prominently), and they were all, in various languages, propositioning me for favors. The most common was "how much for the night?" I found that I understood perfectly what they were all saying, and a tiny part of me was exulting at my perfect understanding of languages I didn't really speak. I didn't take the propositioning too seriously; it was kind of annoying and unsettling, but I figured that it was a cultural thing and that they weren't targeting me in particular, just any female in a certain age range.
After that I was with my dad in a gigantic semi-outdoor home/garden/decoration megastore. My eye was caught by a display of wrapping paper on sale--there was a really beautiful Art Nouveau-ish design with red poppies, and some colorful Josef-Frank-esque botanical designs. I was trying to decide on a couple to buy, since I don't use that much wrapping paper. The more I looked, the more confused I got. I saw some very cute designs that were very original and would be really good for wrapping kids' gifts--but then I remembered that I don't give that many kids gifts. I finally decided I should just go with the two I had seen at first, since I had been there so long (my dad was being extremely indulgent, pretending to root around and be genuinely interested in the wrapping paper while waiting for me). Once I decided on that course of action, though, I could no longer find any that I wanted, let alone the two I had seen before. All I could see were disappointingly unoriginal designs that looked pretty lackluster up close.
I decided to give up on the wrapping paper and accompany my dad to look for some item he was looking for (which had been the original purpose of the trip). I commented on how gigantic the store was, and recalled that Curly Sue had told me of being on a business trip to Houston (??!) and killing time in a similar store.
After that, I was with a larger group (still in a vaguely Italian place) including my husband and some assorted acquaintances from college. It was in the evening, and activity plans were being negotiated. Several of us were lounging on a huge couch/bed thing, and suddenly a girl I had known in college threw herself down next to me/on me John-and-Yoko style. I was a bit taken aback at this sudden incursion into my personal space, but didn't try to make her move because I was cold. There was a lot of tedious back-and-forth in the group about where we would go and what we would do, and it became clear that the group members were all very !Party!Party! types. I found myself agreeing to go out and "party" with them. Not being much of a partier in real life, I was surprised at myself, and even more surprised to realize that although it was getting late I wasn't tired at all. Of course I woke up tired after that.
*An eerily true-to-life detail, from my limited experience in Italy.
After that I was with my dad in a gigantic semi-outdoor home/garden/decoration megastore. My eye was caught by a display of wrapping paper on sale--there was a really beautiful Art Nouveau-ish design with red poppies, and some colorful Josef-Frank-esque botanical designs. I was trying to decide on a couple to buy, since I don't use that much wrapping paper. The more I looked, the more confused I got. I saw some very cute designs that were very original and would be really good for wrapping kids' gifts--but then I remembered that I don't give that many kids gifts. I finally decided I should just go with the two I had seen at first, since I had been there so long (my dad was being extremely indulgent, pretending to root around and be genuinely interested in the wrapping paper while waiting for me). Once I decided on that course of action, though, I could no longer find any that I wanted, let alone the two I had seen before. All I could see were disappointingly unoriginal designs that looked pretty lackluster up close.
I decided to give up on the wrapping paper and accompany my dad to look for some item he was looking for (which had been the original purpose of the trip). I commented on how gigantic the store was, and recalled that Curly Sue had told me of being on a business trip to Houston (??!) and killing time in a similar store.
After that, I was with a larger group (still in a vaguely Italian place) including my husband and some assorted acquaintances from college. It was in the evening, and activity plans were being negotiated. Several of us were lounging on a huge couch/bed thing, and suddenly a girl I had known in college threw herself down next to me/on me John-and-Yoko style. I was a bit taken aback at this sudden incursion into my personal space, but didn't try to make her move because I was cold. There was a lot of tedious back-and-forth in the group about where we would go and what we would do, and it became clear that the group members were all very !Party!Party! types. I found myself agreeing to go out and "party" with them. Not being much of a partier in real life, I was surprised at myself, and even more surprised to realize that although it was getting late I wasn't tired at all. Of course I woke up tired after that.
*An eerily true-to-life detail, from my limited experience in Italy.
Labels:
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Tuesday, April 27, 2010
High School Reunion
I had yet another high school reunion dream (perhaps I'm developing a theme as strong as Strovska's group trip theme), this one ridiculously detailed. Note that this may have some basis in reality, since next month is my 15th high school reunion, although I have no plans to attend, and have never planned to attend any reunion. This resolve began the day after I graduated.
Anyway, my dream self seems to be highly entertained by the concept of attending reunions and last night was no exception.
I dreamed that I was arriving at my old school carrying my backpack. I was somewhat proud of myself for limiting my packing to just a backpack. I knew that the girl's dorm had been renovated, so I was expecting some changes. The exterior of the building was expansive and looked very nice, though I did notice that they'd chosen to retain the beige-y, buff-colored exterior, which I thought made it look like a motel.
Inside the lobby, the dorm had retained several architectural features of its former "glory," but with the additions of lots of glass walls with shiny metal accents, a la the CSI labs. I made my way inside and avoided the welcoming smiles of the girls' dean, who was standing at the front desk. She was the one I remember from my years there, and I just wanted to skitter past her with a minimum of "catching-up" chitchat.
I toured the chapel area, and thought it was a shame that they'd completely demolished the yellow stained glass windows in favor of a windowless, and beige-colored, set of blank walls, although I did appreciate the replacement of the seats, which had been horrible when I was there.
I went upstairs to find my room for the reunion weekend. Somehow I knew that I'd be staying in my old room, and that I'd have roommates AND suitemates for the duration. They were all already settled in, and the door was open a crack as I pushed it open and called out, "Hello J.B.!!" (J.B. being the initials of a girl who was my suitemate for two years in real life.) She was standing behind the door, hanging up her clothes in the closet. She gave me one of those friendly-stranger hugs.
I started working to unpack my stuff and get myself ready for something (dinner? church? assembly?). As I investigated the bathroom, I met my suitemates, my cousin A. and another former classmate, S. They had pretty much taken over the bathroom with mountains of bottles, towels, cases of makeup, and various toiletries. Still proud of my light packing job (presumably I was clutching at straws, trying to make myself "cooler" and different from my former classmates), I was trying to wash my face at the sink, which kept filling up with tiny bottles of lotions while I was washing.
There was a lot of activity swirling around me and I'm hazy on the details, but my overall impression was that I was trying really hard to be chipper and chatty, catching up on Life. Our suitemates kept popping in and out of the room, and I noticed that my cousin A., in particular, was wearing a TON of makeup. Verging on orange.
It seemed like we were all trying to get out the door at once, but with very little success, as everyone kept trying to use the sinks/counters in the bathroom, but being thwarted each time by the massive amount of potions. Everyone was trying to iron dresses and skirts, and while I'd been so happy with my limited packing job, I worried that my selections wouldn't be dressy enough, considering all the ironing, fluffing, make up, hair styling, and stocking applications that were going on around me.
In short, it was exactly like high school, and by the time I woke to NPR, I was pretty relieved that I don't have to attend any reunions if I don't want to.
Anyway, my dream self seems to be highly entertained by the concept of attending reunions and last night was no exception.
I dreamed that I was arriving at my old school carrying my backpack. I was somewhat proud of myself for limiting my packing to just a backpack. I knew that the girl's dorm had been renovated, so I was expecting some changes. The exterior of the building was expansive and looked very nice, though I did notice that they'd chosen to retain the beige-y, buff-colored exterior, which I thought made it look like a motel.
Inside the lobby, the dorm had retained several architectural features of its former "glory," but with the additions of lots of glass walls with shiny metal accents, a la the CSI labs. I made my way inside and avoided the welcoming smiles of the girls' dean, who was standing at the front desk. She was the one I remember from my years there, and I just wanted to skitter past her with a minimum of "catching-up" chitchat.
I toured the chapel area, and thought it was a shame that they'd completely demolished the yellow stained glass windows in favor of a windowless, and beige-colored, set of blank walls, although I did appreciate the replacement of the seats, which had been horrible when I was there.
I went upstairs to find my room for the reunion weekend. Somehow I knew that I'd be staying in my old room, and that I'd have roommates AND suitemates for the duration. They were all already settled in, and the door was open a crack as I pushed it open and called out, "Hello J.B.!!" (J.B. being the initials of a girl who was my suitemate for two years in real life.) She was standing behind the door, hanging up her clothes in the closet. She gave me one of those friendly-stranger hugs.
I started working to unpack my stuff and get myself ready for something (dinner? church? assembly?). As I investigated the bathroom, I met my suitemates, my cousin A. and another former classmate, S. They had pretty much taken over the bathroom with mountains of bottles, towels, cases of makeup, and various toiletries. Still proud of my light packing job (presumably I was clutching at straws, trying to make myself "cooler" and different from my former classmates), I was trying to wash my face at the sink, which kept filling up with tiny bottles of lotions while I was washing.
There was a lot of activity swirling around me and I'm hazy on the details, but my overall impression was that I was trying really hard to be chipper and chatty, catching up on Life. Our suitemates kept popping in and out of the room, and I noticed that my cousin A., in particular, was wearing a TON of makeup. Verging on orange.
It seemed like we were all trying to get out the door at once, but with very little success, as everyone kept trying to use the sinks/counters in the bathroom, but being thwarted each time by the massive amount of potions. Everyone was trying to iron dresses and skirts, and while I'd been so happy with my limited packing job, I worried that my selections wouldn't be dressy enough, considering all the ironing, fluffing, make up, hair styling, and stocking applications that were going on around me.
In short, it was exactly like high school, and by the time I woke to NPR, I was pretty relieved that I don't have to attend any reunions if I don't want to.
Labels:
anxiety,
Curly Sue,
high school,
lack of confidence,
makeup,
old friends,
reunion,
socializing,
stress
Sunday, April 25, 2010
A Dollar Off Sandwiches and Lesbians
I dreamed that BNB and I were finished with work (somewhere I didn't recognize). We went outside and sat on the grass next to the parking lot to enjoy the outdoors. After awhile, we decided to go on a little walk. There was a creek nearby that ran down a gorge or a ravine that was mostly made of gravel. Somehow, it was necessary for us to fix this ravine, because the water had eroded the gravel at some point, making the creek dry.
I don't remember doing the work, but later I looked down into the ravine and saw BNB removing the final stones, which allowed the water to flow down the creek bed again. He looked up at me and I smiled and gave a thumbs-up.
He climbed out of the ravine, and that's when I noticed that in our work, I'd ended up on the opposite side of the ravine from him. Oops.
We walked a little further down the creek bed, and noticed that it became more and more shallow, and eventually I was able to just kind of walk across the creek bed/ravine.
At this point, I was wearing ipod headphones and listening to a funk band with a great female lead singer. I was listening, but while listening, I was also making the whole thing up in my head (I think I was aware that I was dreaming, and was impressed with dreaming self for making up such a cool song). I was telling BNB about the organ solo, and how cool it sounded, but I guess I didn't offer to let him listen. I looked at the ipod and saw that the woman singing was black and had short dreadlocks, but I didn't know her name.
We walked to a record store, which is actually here in BR, and started looking around. There were a couple of guys that I assumed to be DJs, but otherwise we were the only ones there. We went in the back door and made our way up to the front. I looked in the country music section and was disappointed to see that they only had CDs named "Greatest Country Music Hits of the 1960s."
BNB was looking at jazz records, but the owner of the store came through closing up, turning off the lights. We started to leave the store, when an old lady came up to us, excitedly talking about winning a coupon for a subway sandwich. Somehow we knew her, and we knew that we were going to be delivering a meal to her later that evening (a la Meals on Wheels), so we told her to go ahead and get her subway sandwich and she could eat the other meal later.
She was so excited about her coupon, and she kept chanting aloud, "I won a dollar off subway sandwiches, with chips and lesbians!!" We'd just smile and eventually directed her to a subway store so she could get her sandwich. I eventually figured out that she meant Lebanese salad, which made more sense than lesbians.
I was laughing about this mix-up when a man I haven't seen in years came up (he was my high school biology teacher). He asked what I was laughing about, and I explained, but after I'd used "the L word," I wondered if that had been wise, since he's old and conservative.
I don't remember doing the work, but later I looked down into the ravine and saw BNB removing the final stones, which allowed the water to flow down the creek bed again. He looked up at me and I smiled and gave a thumbs-up.
He climbed out of the ravine, and that's when I noticed that in our work, I'd ended up on the opposite side of the ravine from him. Oops.
We walked a little further down the creek bed, and noticed that it became more and more shallow, and eventually I was able to just kind of walk across the creek bed/ravine.
At this point, I was wearing ipod headphones and listening to a funk band with a great female lead singer. I was listening, but while listening, I was also making the whole thing up in my head (I think I was aware that I was dreaming, and was impressed with dreaming self for making up such a cool song). I was telling BNB about the organ solo, and how cool it sounded, but I guess I didn't offer to let him listen. I looked at the ipod and saw that the woman singing was black and had short dreadlocks, but I didn't know her name.
We walked to a record store, which is actually here in BR, and started looking around. There were a couple of guys that I assumed to be DJs, but otherwise we were the only ones there. We went in the back door and made our way up to the front. I looked in the country music section and was disappointed to see that they only had CDs named "Greatest Country Music Hits of the 1960s."
BNB was looking at jazz records, but the owner of the store came through closing up, turning off the lights. We started to leave the store, when an old lady came up to us, excitedly talking about winning a coupon for a subway sandwich. Somehow we knew her, and we knew that we were going to be delivering a meal to her later that evening (a la Meals on Wheels), so we told her to go ahead and get her subway sandwich and she could eat the other meal later.
She was so excited about her coupon, and she kept chanting aloud, "I won a dollar off subway sandwiches, with chips and lesbians!!" We'd just smile and eventually directed her to a subway store so she could get her sandwich. I eventually figured out that she meant Lebanese salad, which made more sense than lesbians.
I was laughing about this mix-up when a man I haven't seen in years came up (he was my high school biology teacher). He asked what I was laughing about, and I explained, but after I'd used "the L word," I wondered if that had been wise, since he's old and conservative.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Weird Time Mashup
This dream is a strange combination of two different periods in my life: high school and grad school.
I dreamed that I had gone back to my high school to attend some kind of alumni function. I went into the dormitory where I'd lived in high school only to find that it had been extensively renovated. This renovation involved restoring it to its original ornate decor (very different from real life, I assure you), and, as a special touch, the heavy, carved oak doors had been elaborately inscribed with the names of the original occupants.
I found my room, which was upstairs, second door from the stairs. The names on the door were lovely, but I didn't recognize them. They were something like A. D. Smith and Mabel Something.
I wandered around the dorm, at one point going into the basement looking for the "trash room." I found it, and realized that the basement had certainly not been renovated, and the trash room was overflowing with garbage.
Later, I attended a performance of some kind. Someone I knew from my grad school days (here's the mashup) was in this show, playing a piece on piano (as far as I know she doesn't play at all). In the dream, I knew this piece, having played it myself. I knew that it was very difficult, with an elaborate accompaniment pattern played in the middle register with the thumbs and forefingers, and the melody played with the right pinky finger. It required lots of delicate touch and jumping around on the keyboard, both of which require absolute control.
I was really impressed with her performance, and during the applause, I went backstage to congratulate her. I found her stretched out on the floor (apparently exhausted by the effort of performance). She was surrounded by family members, her two babies, and a couple of small dogs. As they all swirled around her, I knelt by her head to gush about her playing. I kissed her on the forehead and told her she'd done a wonderful job, and that I totally understood how hard it had been.
(Upon waking and considering the piano piece, I know that whatever she was playing wasn't what my dream self thought it was.)
I dreamed that I had gone back to my high school to attend some kind of alumni function. I went into the dormitory where I'd lived in high school only to find that it had been extensively renovated. This renovation involved restoring it to its original ornate decor (very different from real life, I assure you), and, as a special touch, the heavy, carved oak doors had been elaborately inscribed with the names of the original occupants.
I found my room, which was upstairs, second door from the stairs. The names on the door were lovely, but I didn't recognize them. They were something like A. D. Smith and Mabel Something.
I wandered around the dorm, at one point going into the basement looking for the "trash room." I found it, and realized that the basement had certainly not been renovated, and the trash room was overflowing with garbage.
Later, I attended a performance of some kind. Someone I knew from my grad school days (here's the mashup) was in this show, playing a piece on piano (as far as I know she doesn't play at all). In the dream, I knew this piece, having played it myself. I knew that it was very difficult, with an elaborate accompaniment pattern played in the middle register with the thumbs and forefingers, and the melody played with the right pinky finger. It required lots of delicate touch and jumping around on the keyboard, both of which require absolute control.
I was really impressed with her performance, and during the applause, I went backstage to congratulate her. I found her stretched out on the floor (apparently exhausted by the effort of performance). She was surrounded by family members, her two babies, and a couple of small dogs. As they all swirled around her, I knelt by her head to gush about her playing. I kissed her on the forehead and told her she'd done a wonderful job, and that I totally understood how hard it had been.
(Upon waking and considering the piano piece, I know that whatever she was playing wasn't what my dream self thought it was.)
Labels:
Curly Sue,
friends,
grad school,
high school,
music,
piano,
time warp
Friday, March 12, 2010
Hugely Embarrasing
ATTENTION: this dream contains several gross-out moments. I even considered not blogging this one, but we must be honest.
I dreamed that I was reporting to work at Whole Foods (no, I don't actually work there, but I've considered it). I needed to use the bathroom really badly, so I figured I'd go before my shift started. When I got to the bathroom, however, I discovered that it was more like a department store's dressing rooms, i.e. no toilets.
I really had to go at this point, so I figured (gross out moment #1) why not just go on the floor? I'll clean up afterward. Accordingly, I leaned against the wall in a corner and, um, went. This wasn't (gross out moment #2) just going "number one" either, if you get my drift.
So, now I had to clean up my mess. I found some paper towels and started to clean up, but I was keeping an eye on the clock, which was inching closer to 3 p.m., the time I was supposed to start work. At this point, the whole thing just got out of hand.
Every time I tried to initiate a part of the cleanup process, the mess spread to something else. I continued trying to clean up the floor with paper towels, but somehow, I managed to forget that I'd laid my keys and wallet on the floor nearby, and in my cleaning efforts, I'd managed to get the mess onto them. Then, in the course of cleaning other things, I forgot about the keys and put them into my pocket, which was gross.
At one point, I even managed to contaminate an enormous pile of fruits and vegetables: kale, bananas, carrots, apples, onions. I started trying to wash each one, but realized the futility of this effort. I ended up piling them into one of those coffin-sized rolling beer coolers to take care of later. The mess was all-encompassing and seemed to be expanding: all over the floor, the walls, and my hands, the pile of produce.
By this point, after piling the produce into the cooler, I realized that it was 3:08, which meant that I was late to work, but I still had to wash my hands.
I was so exhausted from worry and frantic (and futile) cleaning that I think I woke myself up at this point.
I dreamed that I was reporting to work at Whole Foods (no, I don't actually work there, but I've considered it). I needed to use the bathroom really badly, so I figured I'd go before my shift started. When I got to the bathroom, however, I discovered that it was more like a department store's dressing rooms, i.e. no toilets.
I really had to go at this point, so I figured (gross out moment #1) why not just go on the floor? I'll clean up afterward. Accordingly, I leaned against the wall in a corner and, um, went. This wasn't (gross out moment #2) just going "number one" either, if you get my drift.
So, now I had to clean up my mess. I found some paper towels and started to clean up, but I was keeping an eye on the clock, which was inching closer to 3 p.m., the time I was supposed to start work. At this point, the whole thing just got out of hand.
Every time I tried to initiate a part of the cleanup process, the mess spread to something else. I continued trying to clean up the floor with paper towels, but somehow, I managed to forget that I'd laid my keys and wallet on the floor nearby, and in my cleaning efforts, I'd managed to get the mess onto them. Then, in the course of cleaning other things, I forgot about the keys and put them into my pocket, which was gross.
At one point, I even managed to contaminate an enormous pile of fruits and vegetables: kale, bananas, carrots, apples, onions. I started trying to wash each one, but realized the futility of this effort. I ended up piling them into one of those coffin-sized rolling beer coolers to take care of later. The mess was all-encompassing and seemed to be expanding: all over the floor, the walls, and my hands, the pile of produce.
By this point, after piling the produce into the cooler, I realized that it was 3:08, which meant that I was late to work, but I still had to wash my hands.
I was so exhausted from worry and frantic (and futile) cleaning that I think I woke myself up at this point.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Parental Stress
I had a really harrowing dream last night that made me feel exhausted upon waking. This dream is RIFE with Freudian issues, so beware!
I dreamed that my boyfriend and I were going on a Romantic Getaway to the same place near Seattle where a friend of mine got married last summer (in real life, which I attended). It was (is) a really neat bed and breakfast on an island overlooking the water and I was really looking forward to this weekend, especially since somewhere buried in the dream was the knowledge (suspicion??) that my boyfriend was either going to propose or we were actually going to get married (?!).
We had to take a bus to the B n' B, and the grizzled driver dropped us off in front of the building, complaining that he had to drive all the way back to the ferry and then to the mainland. We tried to give him directions, but he just kept complaining.
As we walked up toward the inn, I saw a person getting out a car in the parking lot and as we drew closer, I realized it was my mother. I was so angry that she had somehow figured out where we were going, and went so far as to track us down. I swallowed my anger, though, and we decided to try to have a nice weekend, even when several other family members showed up.
My mom ended up taking over the whole show, organizing outings, dominating conversations (quite unlike her in real life, btw). I was just seething that she'd ruined my romantic weekend, and presumably my chances at having The Talk with my boyfriend.
There was a lot of confusion about bathrooms, like who was showering when. Apparently there was only one shower, which was just a little enclosure in the center of the house. I also ended up sleeping in the strange alcove that was reached by climbing a ladder. It was just a sort of narrow shelf in the wall near the ceiling, and I was using it as a refuge from my mom.
Eventually, during a meal, I ended up losing my temper with my mom, though I'm not sure what event precipitated the actual loss of temper. I ended up screaming and crying at her in the dining room with a roomful of people, with my sister and boyfriend trying to calm me, or at least remove me from the room. I kept screaming something like, "Goddamn it, just stop it!!! Just stop it!!! Everyone gets your point, goddamn it!!!"
That's when I woke up, and it took me awhile to get back to sleep. Eek!
I dreamed that my boyfriend and I were going on a Romantic Getaway to the same place near Seattle where a friend of mine got married last summer (in real life, which I attended). It was (is) a really neat bed and breakfast on an island overlooking the water and I was really looking forward to this weekend, especially since somewhere buried in the dream was the knowledge (suspicion??) that my boyfriend was either going to propose or we were actually going to get married (?!).
We had to take a bus to the B n' B, and the grizzled driver dropped us off in front of the building, complaining that he had to drive all the way back to the ferry and then to the mainland. We tried to give him directions, but he just kept complaining.
As we walked up toward the inn, I saw a person getting out a car in the parking lot and as we drew closer, I realized it was my mother. I was so angry that she had somehow figured out where we were going, and went so far as to track us down. I swallowed my anger, though, and we decided to try to have a nice weekend, even when several other family members showed up.
My mom ended up taking over the whole show, organizing outings, dominating conversations (quite unlike her in real life, btw). I was just seething that she'd ruined my romantic weekend, and presumably my chances at having The Talk with my boyfriend.
There was a lot of confusion about bathrooms, like who was showering when. Apparently there was only one shower, which was just a little enclosure in the center of the house. I also ended up sleeping in the strange alcove that was reached by climbing a ladder. It was just a sort of narrow shelf in the wall near the ceiling, and I was using it as a refuge from my mom.
Eventually, during a meal, I ended up losing my temper with my mom, though I'm not sure what event precipitated the actual loss of temper. I ended up screaming and crying at her in the dining room with a roomful of people, with my sister and boyfriend trying to calm me, or at least remove me from the room. I kept screaming something like, "Goddamn it, just stop it!!! Just stop it!!! Everyone gets your point, goddamn it!!!"
That's when I woke up, and it took me awhile to get back to sleep. Eek!
Friday, February 5, 2010
Noah and the Flood
I dreamed that I was with my boyfriend, his family, and several other people in a large house clearly located in Florida. I'm not sure why we were all together, but we learned that The Flood was going to happen (yes, the Biblical flood). I guess we heard it on TV, so we were trying to get things ready in the house (sort of like hurricane preparation). I guess we were going to try to ride it out at home.
The house was very open, airy, and light with lots of windows and skylights. I was worried about all this glass, so we decided to take refuge in a bedroom that only had one window.
As we were making preparations, it seemed that I was the only one who was really worried about the severe weather approaching; I could see the vast, black storm cloud coming up on the horizon. I grabbed my laptop and wondered if I should go and get my backpack, which apparently had my clothes inside. In the end, I didn't because a distraction arrived.
Apparently, the Biblical Aaron arrived, who had apparently made the prediction that this flood would happen. (Notice that I'm confusing Biblical characters here: in my dream, Aaron was Noah's brother.) When he showed up, I rolled my eyes and inwardly sighed; he was wearing what he clearly thought was a "hipster" suit, sunglasses, and he had long straight hair, parted down the middle. The suit, however, was large and boxy, in a navy blue, and he was wearing this mustard yellow shirt underneath, sans tie. I thought he was trying to act the part of Prophet a little too hard. (I believe that Noah was already present in the house, though he didn't have a large role in the dream.)
Everyone was really impressed that we had Aaron in the house. Everyone had gone into the small bedroom to wait for the storm to hit. This stranger, a woman, was sitting across from me. She was total Florida from head to toe, wearing a pastel suit, tons of makeup and jewelry, and had a deep mahogany tan. She kept asking me questions, as though to show that I wasn't as cool as I thought.
Then a guy came to sit in front of me because I was going to shave his face (?!). I was using this tiny, extremely sharp tool to shave him, sort of like a straight razor, but much smaller. More like a larger exacto knife. I was scraping away at his (surprisingly thick) beard/neck hair under his ears (??), and he kept twisting his head around to look at me. He kept asking me really personal questions, implying that he'd seen me several times in porn videos!!!
I kept asking him to sit still so I didn't slit his throat ("Sir, please sit still!"), but he kept saying things like, "You don't have to pretend with me, I've seen you naked," as he kept giving me leering glances. He was really gross too, a red-faced, thick-necked guy with a big, fleshy ear and jowl. I never really understood if he was mistaking me for someone else, or if I really had been in porn videos. I just decided to keep my professional shaver's demeanor and asking politely for him to sit still. My boyfriend was sitting beside me the whole time, and I knew he'd appreciate it if I didn't respond to this idiot.
The house was very open, airy, and light with lots of windows and skylights. I was worried about all this glass, so we decided to take refuge in a bedroom that only had one window.
As we were making preparations, it seemed that I was the only one who was really worried about the severe weather approaching; I could see the vast, black storm cloud coming up on the horizon. I grabbed my laptop and wondered if I should go and get my backpack, which apparently had my clothes inside. In the end, I didn't because a distraction arrived.
Apparently, the Biblical Aaron arrived, who had apparently made the prediction that this flood would happen. (Notice that I'm confusing Biblical characters here: in my dream, Aaron was Noah's brother.) When he showed up, I rolled my eyes and inwardly sighed; he was wearing what he clearly thought was a "hipster" suit, sunglasses, and he had long straight hair, parted down the middle. The suit, however, was large and boxy, in a navy blue, and he was wearing this mustard yellow shirt underneath, sans tie. I thought he was trying to act the part of Prophet a little too hard. (I believe that Noah was already present in the house, though he didn't have a large role in the dream.)
Everyone was really impressed that we had Aaron in the house. Everyone had gone into the small bedroom to wait for the storm to hit. This stranger, a woman, was sitting across from me. She was total Florida from head to toe, wearing a pastel suit, tons of makeup and jewelry, and had a deep mahogany tan. She kept asking me questions, as though to show that I wasn't as cool as I thought.
Then a guy came to sit in front of me because I was going to shave his face (?!). I was using this tiny, extremely sharp tool to shave him, sort of like a straight razor, but much smaller. More like a larger exacto knife. I was scraping away at his (surprisingly thick) beard/neck hair under his ears (??), and he kept twisting his head around to look at me. He kept asking me really personal questions, implying that he'd seen me several times in porn videos!!!
I kept asking him to sit still so I didn't slit his throat ("Sir, please sit still!"), but he kept saying things like, "You don't have to pretend with me, I've seen you naked," as he kept giving me leering glances. He was really gross too, a red-faced, thick-necked guy with a big, fleshy ear and jowl. I never really understood if he was mistaking me for someone else, or if I really had been in porn videos. I just decided to keep my professional shaver's demeanor and asking politely for him to sit still. My boyfriend was sitting beside me the whole time, and I knew he'd appreciate it if I didn't respond to this idiot.
Labels:
Biblical flood,
boyfriend,
Curly Sue,
Florida,
group activities,
hipster suit,
Noah,
porn,
prophet,
shaving
Friday, January 29, 2010
Movie Roles
The other night I dreamed that I was in another Mel Gibson action movie (the odd part of that sentence is the last five words).
When I'm in the movie, I'm both a part of the plot and aware that it's a movie. This was a kind of home invasion movie in which Mel and I had to sneak into the house of the bad people. I was carrying a seriously big and bad-ass machine gun. It was huge and heavy, and I was worried about being able to use it while moving.
Mel and I started outside, where we loaded up our guns and split up. I entered the house through a bedroom on the first floor. I think this one had a woman in it, about my age, and I shot her with the gun. The bullets from the gun seemed to move in slow motion, even though I was trying to move very fast. I don't remember this scene very well, but I remember that the shooting didn't work, or my gun ran out of bullets, because I ended up having to smash her head over and over with a chair or something.
I proceeded on through the house, wondering what Mel was up to. Of course I was surprised by a young guy with a gun. He started shooting at me, and I could see the bullets moving in slow motion toward me. I couldn't feel anything hitting me, but I wondered if I was injured. I was shooting back at him, and I noticed again how heavy the gun was. I was kind of diving behind furniture and trying to keep shooting at him at the same time.
This guy wouldn' die, though. At one point, he was down and I walked over to him and shot directly down into his head and body and, thinking he was dead, I started to walk away. I looked back over my shoulder and saw him propping up on one elbow, trying to shoot me in the back. I had to run back and shoot him some more. I may have used a chair on him too.
I left the bedroom and started to creep quietly up a metal spiral staircase (just like the one at the back door of my apartment). I wasn't sure where this would lead, but I realized that since it was a movie, Mel was probably taking care of things in the other part of the house. I also thought about whether I was injured, but realized since I was in a movie, the injuries wouldn't last too long even if I was in fact injured.
When I'm in the movie, I'm both a part of the plot and aware that it's a movie. This was a kind of home invasion movie in which Mel and I had to sneak into the house of the bad people. I was carrying a seriously big and bad-ass machine gun. It was huge and heavy, and I was worried about being able to use it while moving.
Mel and I started outside, where we loaded up our guns and split up. I entered the house through a bedroom on the first floor. I think this one had a woman in it, about my age, and I shot her with the gun. The bullets from the gun seemed to move in slow motion, even though I was trying to move very fast. I don't remember this scene very well, but I remember that the shooting didn't work, or my gun ran out of bullets, because I ended up having to smash her head over and over with a chair or something.
I proceeded on through the house, wondering what Mel was up to. Of course I was surprised by a young guy with a gun. He started shooting at me, and I could see the bullets moving in slow motion toward me. I couldn't feel anything hitting me, but I wondered if I was injured. I was shooting back at him, and I noticed again how heavy the gun was. I was kind of diving behind furniture and trying to keep shooting at him at the same time.
This guy wouldn' die, though. At one point, he was down and I walked over to him and shot directly down into his head and body and, thinking he was dead, I started to walk away. I looked back over my shoulder and saw him propping up on one elbow, trying to shoot me in the back. I had to run back and shoot him some more. I may have used a chair on him too.
I left the bedroom and started to creep quietly up a metal spiral staircase (just like the one at the back door of my apartment). I wasn't sure where this would lead, but I realized that since it was a movie, Mel was probably taking care of things in the other part of the house. I also thought about whether I was injured, but realized since I was in a movie, the injuries wouldn't last too long even if I was in fact injured.
Labels:
action movie,
Curly Sue,
death,
Mel Gibson,
murder,
violence
Civil War Distress
This was part of a larger dream, which I don't remember. At some point, I was in the garage of my mom's old house with my boyfriend, B. We were just hanging around when we heard and saw someone hobble past on a crutch. This person was dressed in rags and was clearly injured very badly, with one foot/ankle wrapped in a very bloody bandage.
Somehow I knew that this was a victim or combatant in the Civil War (i.e. the American Civil War...don't ask me how that got mixed up in my dream), and that this person was a minority of some kind. Not black or white or anything, but more like an ethnic minority of Eastern Europe or something. Anyway, I realized that this guy (it was a young guy) had been gravely injured and was fleeing from combat. He looked just like you'd imagine an Ethiopian refugee might look on TV.
He hobbled past our door and didn't say anything to us, but we could tell he stopped just past the door, because he was making these moaning and whimpering sounds. We didn't know what to do because we could see when he walked by that his whole foot was nearly off, just sort of dangling by the tendon at the heel. You could see daylight through the ankle. And I think he was injured in other ways too.
Eventually he ended up inside the garage, where he started begging us to kill him because he was in so much pain and we couldn't do anything for his injuries. His hair was shaved close and he had huge eyes. He kept asking us to kill him, and crying.
Finally, I went to the garage shelf and got my revolver (??), went over to him and, before I could lose my nerve, I shot him in the head. He died immediately, and I felt kind of relieved for him. But then it occurred to us that it might not be viewed as a mercy killing by anyone else, including the law. We started trying to think of what to do with his body. We were going to bury it in the field, but there was a guy (from my workplace, oddly) out there making dry ice (??) right where we wanted to bury the body.
I was starting to get really upset when I woke up feeling very relieved that I didn't just kill someone.
Somehow I knew that this was a victim or combatant in the Civil War (i.e. the American Civil War...don't ask me how that got mixed up in my dream), and that this person was a minority of some kind. Not black or white or anything, but more like an ethnic minority of Eastern Europe or something. Anyway, I realized that this guy (it was a young guy) had been gravely injured and was fleeing from combat. He looked just like you'd imagine an Ethiopian refugee might look on TV.
He hobbled past our door and didn't say anything to us, but we could tell he stopped just past the door, because he was making these moaning and whimpering sounds. We didn't know what to do because we could see when he walked by that his whole foot was nearly off, just sort of dangling by the tendon at the heel. You could see daylight through the ankle. And I think he was injured in other ways too.
Eventually he ended up inside the garage, where he started begging us to kill him because he was in so much pain and we couldn't do anything for his injuries. His hair was shaved close and he had huge eyes. He kept asking us to kill him, and crying.
Finally, I went to the garage shelf and got my revolver (??), went over to him and, before I could lose my nerve, I shot him in the head. He died immediately, and I felt kind of relieved for him. But then it occurred to us that it might not be viewed as a mercy killing by anyone else, including the law. We started trying to think of what to do with his body. We were going to bury it in the field, but there was a guy (from my workplace, oddly) out there making dry ice (??) right where we wanted to bury the body.
I was starting to get really upset when I woke up feeling very relieved that I didn't just kill someone.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Surprise Visit
I dreamed that I was at work, but was told that my coworker C was absent and that I'd have to do her job for the day. I was taken to sit at her desk and I was really irritated that I'd have to pretend I could do her job. I looked up at the clock and noticed it was only 2:30 pm, and I was a little huffy that I'd have to spend two more hours pretending that I knew what I was doing.
Then I went downstairs to the exhibit area. Apparently there was some kind of reception going on, with people standing around holding drinks and snack foods. Suddenly, Barack Obama showed up, and I seemed to be the only one who was surprised. He was wearing a very nice suit and a really great hat, a 1940s fedora, which actually looked a little too small for him. He was making the rounds, shaking hands, but I was too shy to push forward.
Then I went downstairs to the exhibit area. Apparently there was some kind of reception going on, with people standing around holding drinks and snack foods. Suddenly, Barack Obama showed up, and I seemed to be the only one who was surprised. He was wearing a very nice suit and a really great hat, a 1940s fedora, which actually looked a little too small for him. He was making the rounds, shaking hands, but I was too shy to push forward.
Labels:
barack obama,
clothes,
coworkers,
Curly Sue,
hats,
pretending to work,
work
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
border adventure!
I had the most exhausting and ridiculous dream last night. I dreamed that, with Curly Sue and another real-life friend, I was going to try to sneak across the U.S.-Mexico border by rafting across the river. At no point was it clear whether we were trying to get from Mexico to the U.S. or from the U.S. to Mexico, or even why we were crossing clandestinely (a lot of things in this dream weren't clear).
At the beginning, I was trying to pack my things to go. I had it in my head that I needed to fit everything necessary for 8 months or so into a small backpack, besides my share of the necessary stuff for the trip itself--tent, blow-up raft, life jacket, food, etc. All my possessions were disorganized and all over the floor of a room in my parents' house (different than my parents' house in real life). I was preparing for an academic year in a dorm atmosphere, so I was thinking about what I would need in that situation and including all kinds of not-strictly-necessary things like a tin of colored drawing pencils. I was also concerned about the mess I would be leaving behind, all the disorganized stuff that I wouldn't be taking with me.
After this packing stress went on for a while (forever, seemingly), I finally realized that this was just a trip to Establish a Presence, and that I was going to be able to retrieve more belongings later (what?), not to mention that wherever I was going was bound to have stores to buy things in. So this threw off my whole strategy and I had to start all over. By this time my traveling companions were pretty much ready to go, so knowing that I was holding them up added to the stress.
I ended up finally just throwing a change of clothes and what I thought was my share of the supplies into my bag, and we got ready to go through the security checkpoint (what? again). This was manned by U.S. agents, although, again, I'm not sure where we were leaving and where we were entering, or why (even better question) we were going through security and THEN sneaking over the border. The security procedure was onerous and there were lots of annoying, noisy kids running around underfoot.
We finally made it through, and then I realized that the river looked pretty wide, deep, and fast, and that I hadn't actually packed my life jacket. At this point, I think my companions' patience was running quite thin, especially after the whole security-checkpoint experience, so I decided to get a life jacket at the first opportunity instead of being picky.
The first opportunity turned out to be a ramshackle taco/life jacket/whatever else stand. They wanted $40 to rent a worn-out orange clip-in-the-front life jacket, to be returned the next day. I tried to find out what would happen if I didn't return it, but they were evasive on that point. Then I bought a taco, which turned out to be one somewhat undersized tortilla and one seriously undersized tortilla (silver dollar-sized), with about 6 bits of ground beef and a smear of vile-looking sauce (all this warmed up in a microwave). I was indignant and tried to protest to the seller, but my Spanish came out all wrong in my indignation (even including some French words), and the guy just laughed at me scornfully. (The guy manning this shady operation was a stout middle-aged Mexican guy with a distinct air of doing business with the wrong people, so I didn't rant for too long.)
After that, my companions revealed that they had been looking at the map to plan our route and had decided that the best strategy to avoid detection was to circle around--waaay around. The proposed route would include a trip through Big Bend, and we were going to take our giant SUV, so at least we could sleep inside it.
On that note, I think we decided we needed a real meal before undertaking the next leg of the trip, because the last thing I remember was a plate with some kind of chicken-fried-steak type meat atop a small mound of mashed potatoes. I was disconcerted because it wasn't the type of meal that fit in with the whole Texas/Mexico border theme, but I was also happy for something more substantial than the so-called "taco" from the stand.
At the beginning, I was trying to pack my things to go. I had it in my head that I needed to fit everything necessary for 8 months or so into a small backpack, besides my share of the necessary stuff for the trip itself--tent, blow-up raft, life jacket, food, etc. All my possessions were disorganized and all over the floor of a room in my parents' house (different than my parents' house in real life). I was preparing for an academic year in a dorm atmosphere, so I was thinking about what I would need in that situation and including all kinds of not-strictly-necessary things like a tin of colored drawing pencils. I was also concerned about the mess I would be leaving behind, all the disorganized stuff that I wouldn't be taking with me.
After this packing stress went on for a while (forever, seemingly), I finally realized that this was just a trip to Establish a Presence, and that I was going to be able to retrieve more belongings later (what?), not to mention that wherever I was going was bound to have stores to buy things in. So this threw off my whole strategy and I had to start all over. By this time my traveling companions were pretty much ready to go, so knowing that I was holding them up added to the stress.
I ended up finally just throwing a change of clothes and what I thought was my share of the supplies into my bag, and we got ready to go through the security checkpoint (what? again). This was manned by U.S. agents, although, again, I'm not sure where we were leaving and where we were entering, or why (even better question) we were going through security and THEN sneaking over the border. The security procedure was onerous and there were lots of annoying, noisy kids running around underfoot.
We finally made it through, and then I realized that the river looked pretty wide, deep, and fast, and that I hadn't actually packed my life jacket. At this point, I think my companions' patience was running quite thin, especially after the whole security-checkpoint experience, so I decided to get a life jacket at the first opportunity instead of being picky.
The first opportunity turned out to be a ramshackle taco/life jacket/whatever else stand. They wanted $40 to rent a worn-out orange clip-in-the-front life jacket, to be returned the next day. I tried to find out what would happen if I didn't return it, but they were evasive on that point. Then I bought a taco, which turned out to be one somewhat undersized tortilla and one seriously undersized tortilla (silver dollar-sized), with about 6 bits of ground beef and a smear of vile-looking sauce (all this warmed up in a microwave). I was indignant and tried to protest to the seller, but my Spanish came out all wrong in my indignation (even including some French words), and the guy just laughed at me scornfully. (The guy manning this shady operation was a stout middle-aged Mexican guy with a distinct air of doing business with the wrong people, so I didn't rant for too long.)
After that, my companions revealed that they had been looking at the map to plan our route and had decided that the best strategy to avoid detection was to circle around--waaay around. The proposed route would include a trip through Big Bend, and we were going to take our giant SUV, so at least we could sleep inside it.
On that note, I think we decided we needed a real meal before undertaking the next leg of the trip, because the last thing I remember was a plate with some kind of chicken-fried-steak type meat atop a small mound of mashed potatoes. I was disconcerted because it wasn't the type of meal that fit in with the whole Texas/Mexico border theme, but I was also happy for something more substantial than the so-called "taco" from the stand.
Labels:
boating,
Curly Sue,
food,
friends,
international border,
life jackets,
mexico,
packing,
river,
road trip,
security checkpoint,
stress,
strovska,
tacos,
traveling
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
jumping on the snippet bandwagon
Here are some of my recent snippets (no full-scale plotlines for me lately):
- I was staying in my aunt and uncle's house with my parents (aunt and uncle weren't there). My dog (the giant, hyperactive one) was there too, and my mother had stayed up all night with him in the living room watching tv. To the average layperson, this wouldn't sound so funny, but the idea of my mother staying up all night watching random tv movies with my large dog is so unlikely as to be hilarious. I had woken up early and wanted to go out to do some sightseeing (apparently my aunt and uncle's house was in Italy!). My mother wasn't ready to leave the house after her all-nighter, and I was a little impatient. While waiting to see if she was going to accompany me I noticed that the bathroom shower stall was all dirty and scuzzy, and was self-righteously scandalized that they hadn't cleaned it for incoming guests*. I tried to use some Scrubbing Bubbles product on it, but was frustrated because it didn't foam properly. Then I gave up waiting for her and went out, where I bought some overpriced and weird-looking (orange?!) Spanish tortilla and some similarly overpriced coffee from a streetside stall manned by an old man.
- Then another night I had a dream in which I missed a train due to poor time management and ended up having to spend the night at a nearby anarchist commune. In the dream, I knew a lot of the people there from past periods of my life, although I'm not sure, apart from one or two, whether these were dream people or actual real-life acquaintances. I was just getting settled in and over my frustration at having missed my train when people started saying that I guy I do know in real life had come back from a long trip (the implication was that this had been some sort of meaningful quest). They were saying that he was going to rest up and decompress before coming out to mingle, and the implication was that he was some sort of returning hero.
- Then last night the only dream bit I remember was that I was supposed to do a science project (you know, like a science-fair/ science-class project). As expected, I didn't have much time left in which to do it, but I wasn't too worried because my plan was to have "Curly Sue" and her sister help me--wait for it--capture a small crocodile. That was going to be my science project, a captive miniature crocodile. I don't really know where the location of the dream was, but it was somewhat exotic and the ground was covered with a swampy groundcover. When you looked closely you could see that at close intervals in the groundcover there were tiny crocodiles in a dormant state. I knew that once I started trying to capture one it would become active, though, which was why I needed help. I figured it wouldn't be too hard with one person to grab and hold the body and the other person to grab the snout (?) and hold it shut; a third person for backup could be nice too. Unfortunately when Curly Sue and sister showed up (with their mother and possibly some other extended family members) they were considerably less enthusiastic about the enterprise than I had expected. Due to their lack of enthusiasm, I decided that I should go with my science project backup plan, an origami model of a double helix (here again, I was somewhat hazy about the actual details involved in its fabrication).
Friday, December 4, 2009
State Dinner
I dreamed that I was a member of Barack Obama's staff and was attending some kind of White House event with other staffers. Most of the dream was about getting ready to go, with the usual drama of finding things, looking for things, etc.
We gathered in a group before walking to the event location. I was taller than everyone else (yes, always, even in real life), including Mr. Obama, who was surprisingly short in the dream. Everyone was wearing subdued colors, as befits a group of staff members. Lots of black, brown, etc.
I was proud of my outfit, which I felt fit the subdued color palette while remaining unique: black silky, long sleeved T shirt; brown striped knee-length skirt, brown knee socks, red sneakers (these are all clothes that I own in real life, but have never worn in combination, though I'm not afraid to wear black with brown).
We gathered in a group before walking to the event location. I was taller than everyone else (yes, always, even in real life), including Mr. Obama, who was surprisingly short in the dream. Everyone was wearing subdued colors, as befits a group of staff members. Lots of black, brown, etc.
I was proud of my outfit, which I felt fit the subdued color palette while remaining unique: black silky, long sleeved T shirt; brown striped knee-length skirt, brown knee socks, red sneakers (these are all clothes that I own in real life, but have never worn in combination, though I'm not afraid to wear black with brown).
Labels:
barack obama,
celebrities,
clothes,
Curly Sue,
taller than everyone,
white house
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
More old friends
I dreamed that my high school friend S, who lives for real in Seattle, lived in Bellingham, Washington. She decided to take a vacation to Seattle, along with our friend strovska and a friend from high school named J (who as far as I know, neither strovska, S, or I have spoken to in years).
On their trip, they took lots of pictures and decided to print them up in a very glossy (and VERY large--coffee table book sized) picture book. They also write up some interesting, and also quite long, magazine-style articles about the locations and activities in the photos. Things like, "Among the quaint teashops and antique stores, one can find a restful jewel of a cafe, where we enjoyed exquisite tea and sweet snacks on this chilly autumn afternoon." Just as thought it was in a Martha Stewart magazine.
All three of them looked as they do now, but they were wearing clothes that in my dream I remembered from high school. Big, chunky, fuzzy sweaters in early-90s style, for example.
Because S is pregnant in real life, there was a picture of her "resting" in the back seat of a horse-drawn carriage on a cobblestone street (right, this is in Seattle???). There were lots of pictures of them wrapped up in stylish scarves, lounging around tiny sidewalk tables, sipping tea, or strolling up narrow streets while window-shopping.
I remember being very impressed with the size (and heft) and quality of this photo book.
On their trip, they took lots of pictures and decided to print them up in a very glossy (and VERY large--coffee table book sized) picture book. They also write up some interesting, and also quite long, magazine-style articles about the locations and activities in the photos. Things like, "Among the quaint teashops and antique stores, one can find a restful jewel of a cafe, where we enjoyed exquisite tea and sweet snacks on this chilly autumn afternoon." Just as thought it was in a Martha Stewart magazine.
All three of them looked as they do now, but they were wearing clothes that in my dream I remembered from high school. Big, chunky, fuzzy sweaters in early-90s style, for example.
Because S is pregnant in real life, there was a picture of her "resting" in the back seat of a horse-drawn carriage on a cobblestone street (right, this is in Seattle???). There were lots of pictures of them wrapped up in stylish scarves, lounging around tiny sidewalk tables, sipping tea, or strolling up narrow streets while window-shopping.
I remember being very impressed with the size (and heft) and quality of this photo book.
Labels:
Curly Sue,
Martha Stewart writing,
old friends,
photography,
strovska,
vacation
Sunday, November 15, 2009
High School Flashback
I dreamed last night that I was at work on a normal day. As I was walking through the building, I noticed a girl that I'd gone to high school with (odd enough, since my entire workplace is ID-access only...no strangers CAN wander around). I recognized her at once because she looked exactly the same, but I pretended I didn't see her. Later that day, she cornered me and started quizzing me: "You're so familiar...don't I know you?" I said something non-committal and she recognized me. I had to pretend that I finally recognized her too.
Suddenly, I was in the position of dragging her all around, showing her the place, as she talked non-stop about high school and all the people we used to know. I asked her where she lived and she said, as though I should have known, "Dallas!"
At some point, the dream shifted to a performance in a big concert hall. It was a Christmas concert (undoubtedly influenced by the Christmas carols !!! playing in the car rental place yesterday). The hip-hop artist Jay Z performed Oh Holy Night. Everyone, including myself, was skeptical about his ability to actually sing, but he did quite a nice job. His performance combined this huge orchestra and choir with some really interesting electronically-modified sound effects, which came off quite nicely. I was very impressed. At the point in the song where it goes really high--oh niiiiiight di-VIIIIINNNEEEE--the orchestra and his pre-recorded soundsd created this whip-like effect that seemed to lash all around the room.
I walked up the long, sloping aisle to use the restroom, and came across my mom and grandma sitting on a park bench outside. At first I was going to avoid them, but I had to walk right past them. They were looking at a tree that was shedding thousands of tiny, white blossoms and petals, so that it looked like snow. I decided to joke around, and I started tossing the petals around and striking poses like a supermodel.
Suddenly, I was in the position of dragging her all around, showing her the place, as she talked non-stop about high school and all the people we used to know. I asked her where she lived and she said, as though I should have known, "Dallas!"
At some point, the dream shifted to a performance in a big concert hall. It was a Christmas concert (undoubtedly influenced by the Christmas carols !!! playing in the car rental place yesterday). The hip-hop artist Jay Z performed Oh Holy Night. Everyone, including myself, was skeptical about his ability to actually sing, but he did quite a nice job. His performance combined this huge orchestra and choir with some really interesting electronically-modified sound effects, which came off quite nicely. I was very impressed. At the point in the song where it goes really high--oh niiiiiight di-VIIIIINNNEEEE--the orchestra and his pre-recorded soundsd created this whip-like effect that seemed to lash all around the room.
I walked up the long, sloping aisle to use the restroom, and came across my mom and grandma sitting on a park bench outside. At first I was going to avoid them, but I had to walk right past them. They were looking at a tree that was shedding thousands of tiny, white blossoms and petals, so that it looked like snow. I decided to joke around, and I started tossing the petals around and striking poses like a supermodel.
Labels:
celebrities,
Christmas songs,
Curly Sue,
grandmother,
high school,
Jay Z,
mother,
old friends,
work
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