In one part of my dream night before last, I was driving in a nice, leafy urban neighborhood. Suddenly there was a loud explosion not too far in front of me, and I realized it was a car exploding. The explosion was very dramatic, with lots of dark gray smoke, and it completely vaporized the car--no subsequent burning car, practically no debris, nothing. There was an object where the car had been, and I realized with some alarm that it was the woman who had been driving. She was in remarkably good shape seeing that the car had been destroyed, but it was obvious she was seriously injured (although there wasn't really any blood; there hardly ever seems to be any blood in even my most violent dreams). Several passersby ran up to her, and I guess I did too, because I remember looking down at her feebly moving her arms and whispering, "help me!". A couple of proactive types were hovering over her, so I figured the most useful thing for me to do would be to call 911 (not being a proactive type myself). I went back to the car and started dialing, but my hands were shaking so badly that it took about 10 tries to get to the operator; each time I would either mis-dial, accidentally hang up, accidentally press the button for the internet browser, etc. It was very alarming, a new twist on that dream where you can't lock the door against the pursuing Bad Guy.
The next thing I remember, I was in an unfamiliar house where I lived (temporarily, I think) with my parents in addition to my husband. Things are a little hazy here, but there was some yelling between me and my mother and/or my husband--I can't remember who was yelling at who, although I think I was giving as good as I got.
Apart from fighting with family members, I was making some kind of concoction of onions, corn, canned beans, and some other miscellaneous ingredients. I went off to take a break while it was cooking, and ended up watching the ultimate chick flick on a tv in a spare room. Diane Lane, or a reasonable facsimile, was the female lead, and Viggo Mortensen (or, again, a doppelganger) was the male lead. She was falling into his arms (of course), and there was some of that requisite chick-flick music-less slow-dancing around the room. She got very emotional and started talking about how lonely she had been, and he said something totally unrealistic (but very chick-flicky) about how now she would never have to be lonely again because he was there to love her. I was simultaneously enthralled and disgusted, and also a little disgusted at myself because I realized that I wouldn't, in theory, at all mind a world in which people said that kind of thing to me (Viggo's line, not Diane's); although I could do without the slow-dancing-around-the-room stuff.
After the chick flick, I saw an iphone-like cell phone lying around and started messing with it (I think it belonged to my husband, who was off at work). There was an animated movie on it, and I guess I figured it would be a palate-cleanser after the extreme romance-novel thing I'd just watched. The drawing style was interesting, very stylized and a little more hand-drawn and raw than typical anime style. I don't remember the story line at all, but Calvin and Hobbes made a cameo appearance.
Showing posts with label movie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label movie. Show all posts
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Friday, June 18, 2010
crocodiles and mobsters cont.
(cont.)
Part 3:
I was now out somewhere with a group of people, including the friend and some random dream characters of a wide range of ages and ethnicities. We were in a big concrete building on an upper floor--it was a very bare, industrial sort of building, all metal and concrete and very Soviet Eastern Europe. We must have been on a guided tour, because we had all entered a rather dodgy-looking restroom (this was part of the tour, not a bathroom break). About that time, I realized that we were being guided in there by Russian mobsters. They did the requisite yelling ("get down! Shut up!" etc.), and I dove into the first available stall. Unfortunately it turned out to not have a door, so my hopes of crouching on the toilet to avoid detection were dashed.
The mobsters singled me out for some reason and yelled something at me. I'm not really clear on what happened next because it was very quick, but I realized that a grenade had been unpinned and it would behoove me to get out of there. I had a very weird sensation of simultaneous extreme fear and complete fearlessness, and for once my dream running was very effective (probably faster and with more coordination than in real life). I ran right past them and out the door to try to get out of range of the grenade.
I dashed out into a hallway and out the door, which led me to a long concrete exterior staircase with no railing (this was probably at about a 5th-floor level). At this point I realized that the bathroom mobsters had let me go knowing that they had companions outside the building who could take me out. I got to the bottom of the stairs and started running across an open space of packed dirt (there were buildings all around similar to the one I'd come out of, all deserted). I knew that there were mobsters around, but I also realized that I had to keep running even though the open space left me vulnerable to being picked off.
At about this point, I think I was caught by one of them, but this is where things got weird. Because when I realized that I was being caught, I also realized that this was a movie dream, and my perspective shifted to outside myself. When it shifted, I saw that I wasn't really me, but a much smaller teenager with long dark hair and bangs. This smaller "me" started belting out a song and I realized, "great, I've gotten myself trapped in a musical". [I'm not a real-life fan of musicals; I find it disconcerting how they burst into song at random times.] I tried to put the movie/dream on fast forward so I wouldn't have to listen to the songs and could get to the end faster, and it worked.
Part 3:
I was now out somewhere with a group of people, including the friend and some random dream characters of a wide range of ages and ethnicities. We were in a big concrete building on an upper floor--it was a very bare, industrial sort of building, all metal and concrete and very Soviet Eastern Europe. We must have been on a guided tour, because we had all entered a rather dodgy-looking restroom (this was part of the tour, not a bathroom break). About that time, I realized that we were being guided in there by Russian mobsters. They did the requisite yelling ("get down! Shut up!" etc.), and I dove into the first available stall. Unfortunately it turned out to not have a door, so my hopes of crouching on the toilet to avoid detection were dashed.
The mobsters singled me out for some reason and yelled something at me. I'm not really clear on what happened next because it was very quick, but I realized that a grenade had been unpinned and it would behoove me to get out of there. I had a very weird sensation of simultaneous extreme fear and complete fearlessness, and for once my dream running was very effective (probably faster and with more coordination than in real life). I ran right past them and out the door to try to get out of range of the grenade.
I dashed out into a hallway and out the door, which led me to a long concrete exterior staircase with no railing (this was probably at about a 5th-floor level). At this point I realized that the bathroom mobsters had let me go knowing that they had companions outside the building who could take me out. I got to the bottom of the stairs and started running across an open space of packed dirt (there were buildings all around similar to the one I'd come out of, all deserted). I knew that there were mobsters around, but I also realized that I had to keep running even though the open space left me vulnerable to being picked off.
At about this point, I think I was caught by one of them, but this is where things got weird. Because when I realized that I was being caught, I also realized that this was a movie dream, and my perspective shifted to outside myself. When it shifted, I saw that I wasn't really me, but a much smaller teenager with long dark hair and bangs. This smaller "me" started belting out a song and I realized, "great, I've gotten myself trapped in a musical". [I'm not a real-life fan of musicals; I find it disconcerting how they burst into song at random times.] I tried to put the movie/dream on fast forward so I wouldn't have to listen to the songs and could get to the end faster, and it worked.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
movie #1 in an upcoming apocalyptic franchise
I had one of the most elaborate "movie" dreams I can remember last night. Interestingly, although it didn't last that long, the plot followed the conventional story path to an extent that none of my other remembered movie dreams have.
The beginning was fairly separated from the dreams before it (which I can only barely remember, except that a couple of old friends who recently visited me in real life were there for a visit), but I want to say that part of the previous dream involved planning to go see a movie--I could be wrong about that, though.
At any rate, there was a definite beginning to the "movie" part. It was clearly a movie, although at the same time it was participatory--I was right there in the action, participating. I was seated on some concrete steps going up to a building, in a residential neighborhood with wide streets. There were several early-20s girls there with me on the steps, and nothing much was going on. There was a girl from my elementary school there, and she was petting my doberman, who was collapsed on her lap in immobile ecstasy from all the attention [I have a hard time imagining this person appreciating a very large dog in real life].
Suddenly, one by one, all of us were overtaken by a feeling of intense dread, and just after that a sensation of loss of bodily control, like everything was slowing down and we couldn't move our limbs--but at the same time, our bodies seemed to be contorting themselves of their own accord. It was very scary. At the moment when everyone had realized that something terrible and mysterious was happening, a mist crept toward the building from the other side of the street*.
This situation lasted an indefinable amount of time, and slowly everyone went back to normal, although we were still very freaked out. Then I heard sirens from several approaching police cars (from the direction the mist had come from, coincidentally). I was crossing the street when they approached, and was nervous about getting run over, when I noticed a circa-1960s blue Bronco approaching very fast. The young woman driving it seemed to be having some kind of violent spasm, and she then drove right into a tree, very fast, completely crushing the car. Just then I realized that similar things were happening to people in other cars all over the city (and possibly to pedestrians too): people were suddenly going completely crazy and becoming out-of-control in a savage, destructive way.
The next thing I can remember is being in a room resembling a cross between an old classroom, an "alternative" coffee house, and a warehouse. There were scaffolding-like things hanging from the ceiling, which I think may have been set lighting (this is important later). The room was full of the carefully diverse combination of people one sees in apocalyptic movies [the "people who would never normally associate are thrown together in a disaster" trope as plot device]. My husband was there, and it was obvious that we were both there as observer/participants and not really as "characters". I was a little annoyed with him for some reason, and sitting a few seats away--I thought he was being hyperactive and disruptive.
An older Asian man started to address the group, and it became clear that in this scenario, the U.S. and possibly the whole world had been taken over by China, making up a sort of mega-dictatorship. The man had a professorly air, and was talking about his life's work of designing and implementing a self-sustaining underwater city. He had a really beautiful 3-d model in carved wood showing the structure: like a globe composed of an organic framework, with a lot of little hanging lily-pad-like elements for the various components needed to make up the city. I'm not really sure if the model was physically there or if it was one of those hologram things sci-fi directors are so fond of using in movies.
Anyway, as the man explained his concept I slowly became aware that this was actually the dictator (he was also an engineer, as evidenced by the "P.E." after his name**). I got the impression that he hadn't really harbored ambitions of becoming Dictator of the World, but was one of those extremely cerebral people who was completely absorbed in his mission (the underwater city) and that he had been channeled into dictatorship by other parties who thought he would be the best choice.
The only other thing of note that happened while we were all in the room was that a young Japanese artist hung himself from the ceiling scaffolding. I'm not sure exactly why he did it, but it was an act of protest of some sort.
After that, the end of the movie showed a young couple arriving at their upstairs apartment (sort of an above-garage apartment in an old house in a neighborhood with a slightly gone-to-seed San Francisco vibe). It was understood that they had reached safety, at least for the moment--the perfect ending for the first installment of an apocalyptic franchise! It's hard to explain, but of course the couple was a parallel version of my husband and me.
At the very end of the dream, I saw the title art for the movie. There was a dark red background and a couple of shadowy faces. The name of the movie was incomprehensible. I couldn't figure out if it was some kind of symbol (Greek, maybe?), or if it was a very short, invented two-letter word or name. At any rate, it was in a stylized, slightly fuzzed-at-the-edges gothic calligraphy.
*I'm pretty sure this has to do with my noting this dvd cover at Blockbuster the other day.
**Yes, I work in an engineering office.
***************************
And stay tuned for a dream from a few nights ago featuring a camero appearance by Lars von Trier.
The beginning was fairly separated from the dreams before it (which I can only barely remember, except that a couple of old friends who recently visited me in real life were there for a visit), but I want to say that part of the previous dream involved planning to go see a movie--I could be wrong about that, though.
At any rate, there was a definite beginning to the "movie" part. It was clearly a movie, although at the same time it was participatory--I was right there in the action, participating. I was seated on some concrete steps going up to a building, in a residential neighborhood with wide streets. There were several early-20s girls there with me on the steps, and nothing much was going on. There was a girl from my elementary school there, and she was petting my doberman, who was collapsed on her lap in immobile ecstasy from all the attention [I have a hard time imagining this person appreciating a very large dog in real life].
Suddenly, one by one, all of us were overtaken by a feeling of intense dread, and just after that a sensation of loss of bodily control, like everything was slowing down and we couldn't move our limbs--but at the same time, our bodies seemed to be contorting themselves of their own accord. It was very scary. At the moment when everyone had realized that something terrible and mysterious was happening, a mist crept toward the building from the other side of the street*.
This situation lasted an indefinable amount of time, and slowly everyone went back to normal, although we were still very freaked out. Then I heard sirens from several approaching police cars (from the direction the mist had come from, coincidentally). I was crossing the street when they approached, and was nervous about getting run over, when I noticed a circa-1960s blue Bronco approaching very fast. The young woman driving it seemed to be having some kind of violent spasm, and she then drove right into a tree, very fast, completely crushing the car. Just then I realized that similar things were happening to people in other cars all over the city (and possibly to pedestrians too): people were suddenly going completely crazy and becoming out-of-control in a savage, destructive way.
The next thing I can remember is being in a room resembling a cross between an old classroom, an "alternative" coffee house, and a warehouse. There were scaffolding-like things hanging from the ceiling, which I think may have been set lighting (this is important later). The room was full of the carefully diverse combination of people one sees in apocalyptic movies [the "people who would never normally associate are thrown together in a disaster" trope as plot device]. My husband was there, and it was obvious that we were both there as observer/participants and not really as "characters". I was a little annoyed with him for some reason, and sitting a few seats away--I thought he was being hyperactive and disruptive.
An older Asian man started to address the group, and it became clear that in this scenario, the U.S. and possibly the whole world had been taken over by China, making up a sort of mega-dictatorship. The man had a professorly air, and was talking about his life's work of designing and implementing a self-sustaining underwater city. He had a really beautiful 3-d model in carved wood showing the structure: like a globe composed of an organic framework, with a lot of little hanging lily-pad-like elements for the various components needed to make up the city. I'm not really sure if the model was physically there or if it was one of those hologram things sci-fi directors are so fond of using in movies.
Anyway, as the man explained his concept I slowly became aware that this was actually the dictator (he was also an engineer, as evidenced by the "P.E." after his name**). I got the impression that he hadn't really harbored ambitions of becoming Dictator of the World, but was one of those extremely cerebral people who was completely absorbed in his mission (the underwater city) and that he had been channeled into dictatorship by other parties who thought he would be the best choice.
The only other thing of note that happened while we were all in the room was that a young Japanese artist hung himself from the ceiling scaffolding. I'm not sure exactly why he did it, but it was an act of protest of some sort.
After that, the end of the movie showed a young couple arriving at their upstairs apartment (sort of an above-garage apartment in an old house in a neighborhood with a slightly gone-to-seed San Francisco vibe). It was understood that they had reached safety, at least for the moment--the perfect ending for the first installment of an apocalyptic franchise! It's hard to explain, but of course the couple was a parallel version of my husband and me.
At the very end of the dream, I saw the title art for the movie. There was a dark red background and a couple of shadowy faces. The name of the movie was incomprehensible. I couldn't figure out if it was some kind of symbol (Greek, maybe?), or if it was a very short, invented two-letter word or name. At any rate, it was in a stylized, slightly fuzzed-at-the-edges gothic calligraphy.
*I'm pretty sure this has to do with my noting this dvd cover at Blockbuster the other day.
**Yes, I work in an engineering office.
***************************
And stay tuned for a dream from a few nights ago featuring a camero appearance by Lars von Trier.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
A Rough Transcript
When I woke up this morning, I tried to describe last night's dreams to David. It went something like this:
We were being chased by someone like the Dollhouse people, because I had helped free some of the other people and I had pulled my own Matrix jack-thing out of the back of my head, but had been faking it. They discovered that I didn't have it, and I ran away and they started chasing us. You and I went to the Riverview to hide and watch a movie. (David: "Hiding and watching a movie sounds like a great idea!")
And there were zombies at some point. (David: "Dreams are always better with zombies.")
...And... I was going to get married! (David: "Hmmmmm.") But to a girl. The wedding was going to be in three weeks, and we were experimenting with how my hair was going to look. It was going to look pretty awesome, actually. But I was already thinking, "Okay, I can just go ahead with this, because clearly I've thought out this decision, and it will probably be fine. And divorce is not that big a deal, anyway, if it doesn't work out. Or I could call the whole thing off... I still have three weeks..."
We were being chased by someone like the Dollhouse people, because I had helped free some of the other people and I had pulled my own Matrix jack-thing out of the back of my head, but had been faking it. They discovered that I didn't have it, and I ran away and they started chasing us. You and I went to the Riverview to hide and watch a movie. (David: "Hiding and watching a movie sounds like a great idea!")
And there were zombies at some point. (David: "Dreams are always better with zombies.")
...And... I was going to get married! (David: "Hmmmmm.") But to a girl. The wedding was going to be in three weeks, and we were experimenting with how my hair was going to look. It was going to look pretty awesome, actually. But I was already thinking, "Okay, I can just go ahead with this, because clearly I've thought out this decision, and it will probably be fine. And divorce is not that big a deal, anyway, if it doesn't work out. Or I could call the whole thing off... I still have three weeks..."
Friday, December 12, 2008
more violence
Not only are my pets provoking bad dreams, now it's my husband. He watched something last night involving organized crime and witness protection. I must be extremely suggestible.
I don't remember the backstory, but I was with a diverse group of people who had been thrown together because they were in some sort of undefined danger. We were all in a house waiting for something to happen--I think we were waiting to be taken somewhere. At this point the dream switched to a movie-within-a-dream. I was aware that it was a movie, but I think we were watching it out the windows and it was happening outside the house instead of on a screen.
In the movie-within-a-dream there was a group of people (very much resembling the group of people in the dream) who had been involved somehow with organized crime. I think they had witnessed something rather than committing anything themselves, and the criminals were after them to "rub them out" so they couldn't testify. They (like the people in the dream) were waiting to be escorted to an undisclosed location to enter completely into a witness protection program (they were in the initial phase and thus in a somewhat-but-not-completely-undisclosed location). A couple of armored vehicles showed up with a group of SWAT-team type officers, their faces concealed by their uniforms. They ushered all the people out to get into the vehicles, then opened fire on them and killed them all. One of the "officers" raised his face shield and it became clear that he (and thus the rest) were hit men who were impersonating the police in order to wipe out the witnesses.
The woman I was in a room with while watching this through the windows was understandably freaked out about it, since the movie situation so clearly mirrored her own. I wasn't as concerned because I had the impression that I was just there as a bystander and not implicated.
I don't know why my subconscious seems to have it in for me lately. I haven't been feeling particularly disturbed in real life. [I'm also loath to add yet another tag for "murder", "crime", "organized crime", etc. because it makes it look like I'm obsessed with violent deaths.]
I don't remember the backstory, but I was with a diverse group of people who had been thrown together because they were in some sort of undefined danger. We were all in a house waiting for something to happen--I think we were waiting to be taken somewhere. At this point the dream switched to a movie-within-a-dream. I was aware that it was a movie, but I think we were watching it out the windows and it was happening outside the house instead of on a screen.
In the movie-within-a-dream there was a group of people (very much resembling the group of people in the dream) who had been involved somehow with organized crime. I think they had witnessed something rather than committing anything themselves, and the criminals were after them to "rub them out" so they couldn't testify. They (like the people in the dream) were waiting to be escorted to an undisclosed location to enter completely into a witness protection program (they were in the initial phase and thus in a somewhat-but-not-completely-undisclosed location). A couple of armored vehicles showed up with a group of SWAT-team type officers, their faces concealed by their uniforms. They ushered all the people out to get into the vehicles, then opened fire on them and killed them all. One of the "officers" raised his face shield and it became clear that he (and thus the rest) were hit men who were impersonating the police in order to wipe out the witnesses.
The woman I was in a room with while watching this through the windows was understandably freaked out about it, since the movie situation so clearly mirrored her own. I wasn't as concerned because I had the impression that I was just there as a bystander and not implicated.
I don't know why my subconscious seems to have it in for me lately. I haven't been feeling particularly disturbed in real life. [I'm also loath to add yet another tag for "murder", "crime", "organized crime", etc. because it makes it look like I'm obsessed with violent deaths.]
Monday, November 3, 2008
Movie
I was going to an Imax with a bunch of friends. There was a long line, and they were letting us in slowly, from two doors, in small groups. We had to go down several flights of narrow, steep stairs before we arrived at the auditorium. When we did, I was very disoriented, as it was dark and difficult to see. But the people I was with saw our friends, who had reserved almost an entire row of seats for all of us. There were people I knew from high school, college, and Italy.
My friend Annie said it was her birthday and another friend's birthday, and that they were sitting in the very front row because there was going to be some sort of announcement or something. I felt terrible that I hadn't told her happy birthday earlier.
There was a seat open by a cute Italian friend of mine, so I sat beside him, though I was a little shy. We started chatting in Italian, but mine was rusty and awkward. I noticed that he had really nice eyelashes and remembered how cute I'd thought he was when I was over there. The movie started, and it had a very Amelie/Wes Anderson feel to it. A woman in shiny cherry-red pumps was walking across a grate or swinging bridge--something rather treacherous in those shoes, but whimsical at the same time. The Italian and I commented to each other on it, gesturing, and our hands brushed against each other and the fingers held, resting on the seat between us. The friend on the other side of me noticed, and said, "He's got your hand!" I smiled sheepishly and enjoyed how his hand felt around mine, warm and friendly.
And then, no joke, my alarm went off and woke me from the best dream in recent memory.
My friend Annie said it was her birthday and another friend's birthday, and that they were sitting in the very front row because there was going to be some sort of announcement or something. I felt terrible that I hadn't told her happy birthday earlier.
There was a seat open by a cute Italian friend of mine, so I sat beside him, though I was a little shy. We started chatting in Italian, but mine was rusty and awkward. I noticed that he had really nice eyelashes and remembered how cute I'd thought he was when I was over there. The movie started, and it had a very Amelie/Wes Anderson feel to it. A woman in shiny cherry-red pumps was walking across a grate or swinging bridge--something rather treacherous in those shoes, but whimsical at the same time. The Italian and I commented to each other on it, gesturing, and our hands brushed against each other and the fingers held, resting on the seat between us. The friend on the other side of me noticed, and said, "He's got your hand!" I smiled sheepishly and enjoyed how his hand felt around mine, warm and friendly.
And then, no joke, my alarm went off and woke me from the best dream in recent memory.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Lindsay Lohan
I don't think I could pick Lindsay Lohan out of a line-up, but I know that the GFY Girls don't like her leggings, and that yesterday I saw a guy wearing a T-shirt bearing her mug shot. Actually, I just looked at GFY's Lohan archives, and she looks nothing like she did in my dream.
In my dream she was gorgeous: very tall, and glowingly tan, with very long, honey blonde hair with straight bangs. Her hair came down to about her elbows, and I think she may have been wearing it instead of a shirt, for some acting role, and that the boys loved that.
And then somehow we ended up sharing the same bed. I'm still not sure why, except that I think we were sleeping over at a mutual friend's house.
Anyway, the next day, her security was back in force and we couldn't be seen next to each other. I was trying to take a picture of a display of teddy bears, and had my camera up and waiting. She and her man-friend came by to look, and security made me put my camera down in case I might take a picture of her.
I was telling my family about it later, how ironic it was that we could sleep in the same bed but then I couldn't take pictures of her. I was thinking about blogging about it, but then realized that I could be found out, and that maybe that wasn't a good idea.
Later I tried to buy tickets to a double-feature at the movie theater. They were $9, and I got a bill back from my 10, but the counter person took forever trying to explain to me how the double-feature tickets worked, and I don't think I ever actually got it. I went to another counter, where somehow we ended up looking at pictures on my laptop. There was one shot of tall trees in the snow, with the sun shining through a few falling flakes, and it was beautiful and made me want to cry, missing that scene.
In my dream she was gorgeous: very tall, and glowingly tan, with very long, honey blonde hair with straight bangs. Her hair came down to about her elbows, and I think she may have been wearing it instead of a shirt, for some acting role, and that the boys loved that.
And then somehow we ended up sharing the same bed. I'm still not sure why, except that I think we were sleeping over at a mutual friend's house.
Anyway, the next day, her security was back in force and we couldn't be seen next to each other. I was trying to take a picture of a display of teddy bears, and had my camera up and waiting. She and her man-friend came by to look, and security made me put my camera down in case I might take a picture of her.
I was telling my family about it later, how ironic it was that we could sleep in the same bed but then I couldn't take pictures of her. I was thinking about blogging about it, but then realized that I could be found out, and that maybe that wasn't a good idea.
Later I tried to buy tickets to a double-feature at the movie theater. They were $9, and I got a bill back from my 10, but the counter person took forever trying to explain to me how the double-feature tickets worked, and I don't think I ever actually got it. I went to another counter, where somehow we ended up looking at pictures on my laptop. There was one shot of tall trees in the snow, with the sun shining through a few falling flakes, and it was beautiful and made me want to cry, missing that scene.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
movie mania
A nice way to start your day is to have a dream in which someone falls madly in love with you. Even if the dream is a movie-within-a-dream, and the "you" is actually a character who looks like Charlotte Gainsbourg in a movie set in 1769 (also featuring Kim Cattrall as a scheming concubine of the king).
I don't know why I keep having these movie dreams (also why celebrities including Madonna and "Brangelina" have shown up lately--more about that later).
I don't know why I keep having these movie dreams (also why celebrities including Madonna and "Brangelina" have shown up lately--more about that later).
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Transfiguring Monster
I had a scary monster dream last night. But I was also aware, through the dream, that it was a monster from a movie, so I knew how to kill it, I just had to get it in the same position and go through the same motions. I kept thinking it was the cloverfield monster.
But upon waking, I realized it was not the Cloverfield monster because this monster could change between scary monster with crazy long killing tail and normal human man (and also upon waking I realized it looked nothing like the cloverfield monster....). He was extra scary because he could blend in with a crowd and then suddenly change, so we were always on the lookout for this one man, and I got very good at spotting him. I never actually saw him transform, but knew it was the same.
There was also something dinosaur-like about the monster because we knew that if we were right in front of him, but still he couldn't kill us. So we were running around a high school (in the gym there was a tree house in the middle of the floor, which we had somehow built and weren't letting anyone else into, until they pulled it down when the man walked into the room) and outside of the high school (where I saw him kill a bunch of men sitting on chairs in what looked like a Mexican Alley) and then my grandma's attic where I was trying to stuff myself into a trunk to hide. He killed a woman laying on bed, in the school, and for some reason that was why I was convinced that it was Cloverfield, because I had seen it before, but it really wasn't Cloverfield, so maybe I've had this dream before? Or maybe it's another movie I can't remember very well?
Anyway, it alternated between terrifying and completely not because I knew he was killable. I even saw the big red button on the wall that I knew I was supposed to push because that happened last time, but the people around me convinced me it wasn't time yet, and I was a little bit happy about that because I wasn't ready for it to end, and then finally I saw the woman who killed him in the previous dream/movie, so I knew that she would take care of it.
And then I woke up.
But upon waking, I realized it was not the Cloverfield monster because this monster could change between scary monster with crazy long killing tail and normal human man (and also upon waking I realized it looked nothing like the cloverfield monster....). He was extra scary because he could blend in with a crowd and then suddenly change, so we were always on the lookout for this one man, and I got very good at spotting him. I never actually saw him transform, but knew it was the same.
There was also something dinosaur-like about the monster because we knew that if we were right in front of him, but still he couldn't kill us. So we were running around a high school (in the gym there was a tree house in the middle of the floor, which we had somehow built and weren't letting anyone else into, until they pulled it down when the man walked into the room) and outside of the high school (where I saw him kill a bunch of men sitting on chairs in what looked like a Mexican Alley) and then my grandma's attic where I was trying to stuff myself into a trunk to hide. He killed a woman laying on bed, in the school, and for some reason that was why I was convinced that it was Cloverfield, because I had seen it before, but it really wasn't Cloverfield, so maybe I've had this dream before? Or maybe it's another movie I can't remember very well?
Anyway, it alternated between terrifying and completely not because I knew he was killable. I even saw the big red button on the wall that I knew I was supposed to push because that happened last time, but the people around me convinced me it wasn't time yet, and I was a little bit happy about that because I wasn't ready for it to end, and then finally I saw the woman who killed him in the previous dream/movie, so I knew that she would take care of it.
And then I woke up.
Monday, April 7, 2008
it felt like i was in a movie
maybe something like james bond? only i was not the hero. i was the weird person that left you wondering "why is SHE in the movie?" i was the tag along 'scaredy' cat that didn't want to be there.
anyways, i don't remember a whole lot. i do know that i was with some strange Indiana Jones type of man who talked someone into letting him borrow a boat which resembled a pirate ship. there were 2 of us navigating, although i wasn't helping too much as i was the one sitting in the back of the boat wishing i was there. the only other thing i really remember is that there were cars driving on the water. i remember some type of red audi. and we were trying to chase someone. in a foreign country.
anyways, i don't remember a whole lot. i do know that i was with some strange Indiana Jones type of man who talked someone into letting him borrow a boat which resembled a pirate ship. there were 2 of us navigating, although i wasn't helping too much as i was the one sitting in the back of the boat wishing i was there. the only other thing i really remember is that there were cars driving on the water. i remember some type of red audi. and we were trying to chase someone. in a foreign country.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
family gatherings, etc.
I had a weird dream over the weekend in which I was at a large family type gathering (not my family--what's with me being at all these not-my-family family gatherings lately?). I was wandering around and noticed a crayfish-like insect dressed in overalls writhing around on the ground. It looked like it was suffering, so I thought I should put it out of its misery, though my motives were mixed somewhat; I was also repulsed by it. I was beating it with some kind of implement I can't remember now, when it morphed into a healthy cornfed country boy in overalls. By this time it was too late and I had to finish the job because the insect/young man was pretty far gone (this part was vague, not too graphic). Then, wanting to leave the scene, I went over to a walled-in porch and sat down at a table. There were two teenage girls arranging and rearranging and commenting on various slices of cakes and pies that they had made (none of them on dishes, just on the tablecloth, and amazingly durable what with all the handling). They were excited because the wholesome young hero was going to be coming by and they hoped to impress him with their desserts. At this point I realized that I had just pummeled the wholesome young hero to death and felt intensely uncomfortable.
As a prelude to this dream, there was another episode involving my having acquired several pets (a mixture of cats, rabbits, turtles, and possibly a bird). I had taken several of them to work with me and had lost track of them. A whole day had gone by and I was getting really worried because it was time to feed them, and not only did I not have a food/water setup ready for them, but I wasn't even sure where they were. I haven't had a neglected-pet dream for a long time, but I used to have a lot of these. I'm sure it indicates an unhealthy level of guilt and anxiety.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Then night before last I had a couple of other unsettling dreams. The first involved a lot of people from my high school class reassembling, as if we were still in high school. The setting was more summer-camp than high school. It was at an abandoned building way out in the country, next to a creek. The really unsettling part was that there was an elaborate system for disguising the building when we weren't there, including a very convincing huge fake live-oak tree. I knew that something was amiss if so much effort had to put into hiding the location.
The other dream was another movie dream. This was one of those movies that probably started out as a play because the setting was so simple and it focused on the interactions of a very small group of people. It was vaguely 1950s and involved a desperate, depressed woman in an abusive marriage. She dug a hole in her yard in which to conceal her two children, then was trying to figure out how to leave her husband. A couple she was friends with showed up, and then immediately the husband also arrived, somewhat drunk and quite belligerent. The friends were trying to mediate and keep the husband from getting too violent. The whole atmosphere was very dark and depressing, although I was impressed with the costuming/sets/makeup. I woke up--somewhat unsettled--before I could learn what the outcome was.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
And finally, last night I dreamed that I was at another family gathering, this time with people I was actually related to. It was mostly my dad's side of the family, and it was supposed to be an Easter communion service. I wasn't sure how that was supposed to work out, since there are several different religious persuasions involved. Interestingly, everyone seemed to be wearing cowboy boots--after seeing some really nice ones on a cousin, I looked at my own feet and discovered that I too had on cowboy boots.
After a lot of milling around, we finally made our way into a sort of private room in a hotel/restaurant where this service was supposed to take place. Just as everyone was getting settled, though, a large curtain on one side of the room was swept aside and the whole space (now triple the size) was invaded by a film crew who insisted that they had the whole place. I was excessively angry and accosted a passing waitress type who said she was the manager. I started yelling, really in high dudgeon, about how my family had reserved this space before the film crew.
I feel like I deserve some nice, funny, carefree dreams now.
As a prelude to this dream, there was another episode involving my having acquired several pets (a mixture of cats, rabbits, turtles, and possibly a bird). I had taken several of them to work with me and had lost track of them. A whole day had gone by and I was getting really worried because it was time to feed them, and not only did I not have a food/water setup ready for them, but I wasn't even sure where they were. I haven't had a neglected-pet dream for a long time, but I used to have a lot of these. I'm sure it indicates an unhealthy level of guilt and anxiety.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Then night before last I had a couple of other unsettling dreams. The first involved a lot of people from my high school class reassembling, as if we were still in high school. The setting was more summer-camp than high school. It was at an abandoned building way out in the country, next to a creek. The really unsettling part was that there was an elaborate system for disguising the building when we weren't there, including a very convincing huge fake live-oak tree. I knew that something was amiss if so much effort had to put into hiding the location.
The other dream was another movie dream. This was one of those movies that probably started out as a play because the setting was so simple and it focused on the interactions of a very small group of people. It was vaguely 1950s and involved a desperate, depressed woman in an abusive marriage. She dug a hole in her yard in which to conceal her two children, then was trying to figure out how to leave her husband. A couple she was friends with showed up, and then immediately the husband also arrived, somewhat drunk and quite belligerent. The friends were trying to mediate and keep the husband from getting too violent. The whole atmosphere was very dark and depressing, although I was impressed with the costuming/sets/makeup. I woke up--somewhat unsettled--before I could learn what the outcome was.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
And finally, last night I dreamed that I was at another family gathering, this time with people I was actually related to. It was mostly my dad's side of the family, and it was supposed to be an Easter communion service. I wasn't sure how that was supposed to work out, since there are several different religious persuasions involved. Interestingly, everyone seemed to be wearing cowboy boots--after seeing some really nice ones on a cousin, I looked at my own feet and discovered that I too had on cowboy boots.
After a lot of milling around, we finally made our way into a sort of private room in a hotel/restaurant where this service was supposed to take place. Just as everyone was getting settled, though, a large curtain on one side of the room was swept aside and the whole space (now triple the size) was invaded by a film crew who insisted that they had the whole place. I was excessively angry and accosted a passing waitress type who said she was the manager. I started yelling, really in high dudgeon, about how my family had reserved this space before the film crew.
I feel like I deserve some nice, funny, carefree dreams now.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Helena Heavyhole! Snakehead here!
{This has nothing to do with dreams, but I tried to post here yesterday and found to my dismay that Blogger was turning everything I typed into my choice of south Asian languages--I could choose from Tamil, Urdu, Malayalam, and several others that I can't remember now, but it wouldn't leave it in English. It sounds like a dream, but I swear I was awake.}
*************************************************************************
Now for the dreams. I've had very few "movie dreams" (in which the dream is a movie), but I've had two in a row recently. The first one was extremely jumbled and irrational (an experimental movie?). There was a child version of Gael Garcia Bernal, and the movie was dealing with his relationship with his mother. At various points in the movie his mother was:
1) a young handicapped girl who somehow healed herself by The Power of [Love/ Magical Thinking/ Ambition/ Creativity/ whatever] to become a dancer (this featured a stop-motion transformation scene in which she moved forward and morphed from a tiny crippled dwarf into a beautiful, normal girl dancing ballet).
2) a somewhat homely young woman obsessed with the idea of being a celebrity. This featured a dream/imagination scene in which she entered a room and imagined herself being accosted by smarmy reporters; this was indicated by her saying in a forced deep voice [in the role of Smarmy Reporter No. 1] "Helena Heavyhole! Snakehead here!" [she being Helena Heavyhole and Snakehead being SR No. 1].
3) an elegant, attractive older woman headed to her job as curator of an archaeological museum in Mexico City. The museum was really beautiful, sort of an Art Deco reprisal of something Aztec, in white plaster with gold-leaved carved decorations. She was climbing up a set of shallow steps when it became clear that she was about to fall down stricken by a stroke. I think the other two portrayals of her came into play as she was falling down, in a sort of slow-motion montage.
*********************************************************************
This morning's dream movie was a little more straightforward. Robert DeNiro was an aging Mafia godfather struggling to retain his hold on his gang. He lived in what appeared to be one of those historical museum recreations of a village (at one point he passed a blacksmith who greeted him--this was an obvious way of showing that over the years he had gained respect as the de facto head of the village).
Things are coming to a head, and Mr. DeNiro leaves his house somewhat incognito in a sweatshirt and baseball cap (it's obvious that he's showing he still has an ample supply of courage and daring by going out unaccompanied when mutiny is afoot). He passes the blacksmith and goes down the hill to a sort of family pavilion on the lake. As he approaches it, the light changes (golden glow and all that) and there's a flashback to Happier Times, a birthday party for his mother in the pavilion. When he gets there the flashback ends and reveals that there are some of his fellow mafiosi there waiting for him, along with a couple of hired Young Toughs (not mafiosi and the viewer immediately recognizes them as ignoble mercenaries willing to Do Anything for a Buck, No Honor, etc.). He has a brief, somewhat tense exchange with the mafiosi when the viewer becomes aware that there are two large barrels there that obviously contain explosives. One of the Young Toughs drops a cigarette on the water, and a layer of oil on it ignites. DeNiro starts to run away, knowing that the whole place is about to explode.
He makes it up the hill and hides behind a building while the lakeside pavilion and dock goes up in a huge explosion, then ducks into the nearest house. He follows some kind of circuitous route through plumbing/utility areas of the building, ending up in the home of a young mafioso (who isn't there but soon shows up). He conceals himself in various parts of the house before becoming aware that his daughter (played by Saffron Burrows) is arriving for a tryst with the young mafioso. To avoid detection he ends up having to take refuge in a tiny old Airstream type camper that's been converted into a bathroom. This young mafioso is obviously into interior decoration and has used lots of frilly valance type curtains in the camper/bathroom. He's apparently not as into privacy, though, because said curtains don't cover the windows at all, and DeNiro (now so convincing that the viewer thinks she herself is the one in the trailer/bathroom) has to scrabble around making makeshift window coverings of various seventies print pillowcases, which show a tendency to slide off the rods even when clothes-pinned on.
At this point my alarm clock went off.
{At some point I'm going to resign myself to being the one who adds all the actor/celebrity tags. For now I'm consoling myself that they were appearing *as actors in movies* and as such don't really count as Celebrity Dreams. Right?}
*************************************************************************
Now for the dreams. I've had very few "movie dreams" (in which the dream is a movie), but I've had two in a row recently. The first one was extremely jumbled and irrational (an experimental movie?). There was a child version of Gael Garcia Bernal, and the movie was dealing with his relationship with his mother. At various points in the movie his mother was:
1) a young handicapped girl who somehow healed herself by The Power of [Love/ Magical Thinking/ Ambition/ Creativity/ whatever] to become a dancer (this featured a stop-motion transformation scene in which she moved forward and morphed from a tiny crippled dwarf into a beautiful, normal girl dancing ballet).
2) a somewhat homely young woman obsessed with the idea of being a celebrity. This featured a dream/imagination scene in which she entered a room and imagined herself being accosted by smarmy reporters; this was indicated by her saying in a forced deep voice [in the role of Smarmy Reporter No. 1] "Helena Heavyhole! Snakehead here!" [she being Helena Heavyhole and Snakehead being SR No. 1].
3) an elegant, attractive older woman headed to her job as curator of an archaeological museum in Mexico City. The museum was really beautiful, sort of an Art Deco reprisal of something Aztec, in white plaster with gold-leaved carved decorations. She was climbing up a set of shallow steps when it became clear that she was about to fall down stricken by a stroke. I think the other two portrayals of her came into play as she was falling down, in a sort of slow-motion montage.
*********************************************************************
This morning's dream movie was a little more straightforward. Robert DeNiro was an aging Mafia godfather struggling to retain his hold on his gang. He lived in what appeared to be one of those historical museum recreations of a village (at one point he passed a blacksmith who greeted him--this was an obvious way of showing that over the years he had gained respect as the de facto head of the village).
Things are coming to a head, and Mr. DeNiro leaves his house somewhat incognito in a sweatshirt and baseball cap (it's obvious that he's showing he still has an ample supply of courage and daring by going out unaccompanied when mutiny is afoot). He passes the blacksmith and goes down the hill to a sort of family pavilion on the lake. As he approaches it, the light changes (golden glow and all that) and there's a flashback to Happier Times, a birthday party for his mother in the pavilion. When he gets there the flashback ends and reveals that there are some of his fellow mafiosi there waiting for him, along with a couple of hired Young Toughs (not mafiosi and the viewer immediately recognizes them as ignoble mercenaries willing to Do Anything for a Buck, No Honor, etc.). He has a brief, somewhat tense exchange with the mafiosi when the viewer becomes aware that there are two large barrels there that obviously contain explosives. One of the Young Toughs drops a cigarette on the water, and a layer of oil on it ignites. DeNiro starts to run away, knowing that the whole place is about to explode.
He makes it up the hill and hides behind a building while the lakeside pavilion and dock goes up in a huge explosion, then ducks into the nearest house. He follows some kind of circuitous route through plumbing/utility areas of the building, ending up in the home of a young mafioso (who isn't there but soon shows up). He conceals himself in various parts of the house before becoming aware that his daughter (played by Saffron Burrows) is arriving for a tryst with the young mafioso. To avoid detection he ends up having to take refuge in a tiny old Airstream type camper that's been converted into a bathroom. This young mafioso is obviously into interior decoration and has used lots of frilly valance type curtains in the camper/bathroom. He's apparently not as into privacy, though, because said curtains don't cover the windows at all, and DeNiro (now so convincing that the viewer thinks she herself is the one in the trailer/bathroom) has to scrabble around making makeshift window coverings of various seventies print pillowcases, which show a tendency to slide off the rods even when clothes-pinned on.
At this point my alarm clock went off.
{At some point I'm going to resign myself to being the one who adds all the actor/celebrity tags. For now I'm consoling myself that they were appearing *as actors in movies* and as such don't really count as Celebrity Dreams. Right?}
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Boys, bikes, fishes, theory
I was leaving school with a couple of friends from my department. They were taking the bus and I was going to bike, but we walked together until our paths diverged. As one of them said goodbye, he stood very close to me and put his arm around my shoulders, and it brought back a too-familiar and distinctly unpleasant sensation that I was going to have to, yet again, extricate myself from a situation I never intended, because I had somehow given the wrong impression (see Wedding Nightmare).
When I got to my bike, it was in the parking lot, propped up on its kickstand and unlocked. It was my beloved (stolen) yellow Trek instead of my new bike, and some papers were tucked under the brake cables. The first was a general notice from the campus bike police, saying something to the effect that someone had noticed that my bike wasn't locked up. Below that was a dreadful, grease-stained essay from one of my students. It wasn't even two pages long, and he had quoted an entire paragraph of uselessness. (It looked like an actual paper he turned in on Friday, but I'm pretty sure in the dream it referenced the paper I've been working on all weekend, and my own useless quoting--Baudrillard, thou villain!) It also made repeated references to someone's face being the color of chili sauce.
Then I was in class, and we were watching a film--or a trailer for a film. It was apparently about a boy who turned into a cat... or a fox... or a wolf (probably a brain cross-reference to two separate characters in the Harry Potter books). But he also had a small stuffed fox, who was bright orange,* and was his friend. Then they were rushing through the water, swimming... or drowning... and the fox saved the boy. Only, the fox turned into a bright orange goldfish! And the goldfish saved him, but by dying... and then not dying, in this cosmic scene where their eyes got really big and everything sort of glowed! I turned to my friend Susan, and whispered, "The sacred gesture!" (Last semester we were in an Anthropology seminar called "Ideas of the Sacred," which I dug and which drove her a little crazy, and now I see it in everything, including H.P., of course, and apparently even in my dreams.) She whispered back, "I like it when he just quotes Poisson," which I thought was very witty, since I thought I knew this philosopher, and since his name also meant fish.
A friend from college was sitting in front of me, and he turned around and tapped my knee.
But I was encased in a horizontal pillar... or I was a pillar... and I couldn't open my eyes because they were stuck shut... and there was a noise in the distance... which I eventually recognized as my alarm.
*Orange was the color of my first wedding nightmare.
When I got to my bike, it was in the parking lot, propped up on its kickstand and unlocked. It was my beloved (stolen) yellow Trek instead of my new bike, and some papers were tucked under the brake cables. The first was a general notice from the campus bike police, saying something to the effect that someone had noticed that my bike wasn't locked up. Below that was a dreadful, grease-stained essay from one of my students. It wasn't even two pages long, and he had quoted an entire paragraph of uselessness. (It looked like an actual paper he turned in on Friday, but I'm pretty sure in the dream it referenced the paper I've been working on all weekend, and my own useless quoting--Baudrillard, thou villain!) It also made repeated references to someone's face being the color of chili sauce.
Then I was in class, and we were watching a film--or a trailer for a film. It was apparently about a boy who turned into a cat... or a fox... or a wolf (probably a brain cross-reference to two separate characters in the Harry Potter books). But he also had a small stuffed fox, who was bright orange,* and was his friend. Then they were rushing through the water, swimming... or drowning... and the fox saved the boy. Only, the fox turned into a bright orange goldfish! And the goldfish saved him, but by dying... and then not dying, in this cosmic scene where their eyes got really big and everything sort of glowed! I turned to my friend Susan, and whispered, "The sacred gesture!" (Last semester we were in an Anthropology seminar called "Ideas of the Sacred," which I dug and which drove her a little crazy, and now I see it in everything, including H.P., of course, and apparently even in my dreams.) She whispered back, "I like it when he just quotes Poisson," which I thought was very witty, since I thought I knew this philosopher, and since his name also meant fish.
A friend from college was sitting in front of me, and he turned around and tapped my knee.
But I was encased in a horizontal pillar... or I was a pillar... and I couldn't open my eyes because they were stuck shut... and there was a noise in the distance... which I eventually recognized as my alarm.
*Orange was the color of my first wedding nightmare.
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