dreams, macs, work

Ok then… that’s it.

Bored now. I have been working on the most tedious of all tedious tasks that occasionally fall into my inbox. Little pieces of my soul are drifting up and away, as we speak, and I cannot spare any of MY SOUL, as we all know. And I’ve just about reach the capacity of tedium that a girl like me can take. But all is not lost! For today my Mac Mini has arrived!! Cuter than your average button, she is. But she has no name, a fact that Dr. Stevil finds astounding, since I name all my inanimate objects, especially my computers. And macs are almost always girls. Amelia suggested “Amelia” but that could get confusing.

The other night I had this dream. See if you can guess what I was dreaming about. I was living in a house with my parents [Mom and Stepdad] who were away for the weekend. I decided to take a shower, and when I got out, somebody had gone through the house sticky multi-colored pieces of paper on the walls and doors. These pieces of paper were as small as a mini post-it note and as large as 8.5×11, and they had words printed on them, but most of the words were gibberish. Or they were written like this “st0ck prices go thru the r00f!” I was running down the hallway, tearing these pieces of paper off the walls and doors, when I saw someone dash down the stairs. I looked over the balcony, and there was the culprit! Along with my parents.

Now, for some reason, at this point, everyone became lego people. I yelled “stop him! he’s a note leaver! he’s leaving notes everywhere!”

So my stepdad shot and killed him, and started to drag his lego man body out the door. This seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to do. When I got downstairs, we’d all turned back into humans. I told my mother I did not understand how he got in, to leave the notes. How they ever get it, because this had happened before. She explained to me that they were very very patient. That they hid out in the storm drain, but the street, waiting for an opportunity to sneak in. In fact, there was one there right now. We went out to look at him. He didn’t look very healthy.

“sometimes, they have viruses.” My mom said.

After that dream, I woke up and went to get a glass of water, while standing in the kitchen, it struck me… what I had just dreamed about. And it made me laugh.

Standard
dreams, uber

Now, to unleash screaming temporal doom!

Basically, I’m pretty comfortable living alone. I’ve done it for a long time now. I’m good at it. A little spoiled with it, in fact. But there are times when it would be nice to have another human being in the house. That’s usually when you wake up from a nightmare. And your house, which is normally a comforting quiet and dark at night, all the sudden has strange noises that concern you. Noises that sound vaguely boogiemanish. Noises a serial rapist clown would make, if he were breaking into your home with his giant clown shoes and red rubber nose. At times like these, you do the best you can. If the cat is sleeping on the bed with you, you pat her and let her know it’s ok, clowns aren’t really that scary. If the cat is not sleeping with you, you call out to her repeatedly until she hops up on the bed and lies down on you. And purrs. And then, of course, you pull the comforters over your head and repeat the protective mantra “go back to sleep go back to sleep go back to sleep!”

But last night was a doozie… I woke up screaming. I can’t remember ever doing that. Waking up with a yell or a shout, yes. But waking up screaming? No. And I can’t even remember what happened in the dream, because so many weird dreams came after that one. Including the one where I come to work in my white, terry cloth spa robe. The one I like to wear after taking a shower. Not as bad as coming to work naked, of course, but people do still look at you oddly. Anyway, in case you’ve never woken up screaming before, let me clue you in, it’s very unsettling. And the cat has no interesting in comforting you because you’ve scared the crap out of her. Pulling your covers over your head is not enough. Your normal mantra won’t work. Instead you have to sing “This Little Light of Mine… I’m Going to Let it Shine,” over and over. And you hear yourself ask the question you’ve never dared ask yourself before, “why didn’t I marry a NRA card carrying professional wrestler when my momma told me to?”

Speaking of scary, you should go see what happens at Marie’s house when she shoves a can of beer up a chicken’s butt and serves it for dinner. Tasty! No, seriously. It looks yummy.

Standard
dreams

Then, I will hug some snakes… yes. I will hug and kiss some poisonous snakes.

Last night, I had dreams with snakes. Hundreds of orange and black snakes. I’m not particular frightened of snakes. One could dart out in my path and startle me, but overall, I’m not scared of them. Caveat: by NOT scared, that does not imply I would not be totally freaked out by a rattlesnake, cobra, or cottonmouth in my path. Snakes with fangs and poison are not my favorite kind. I have a healthy sense of apprehension, when it comes to snakes of that caliber. Caveat #2: one snake I am scared of … Water Moccasins. Those things are evil and sneaky, because they combine the fear of fangs and poison with the fear of “Things that cannot be seen in the depths of the water.” ick. Ok, so, snakes, not a scary image for me. However, if you open a closet door and hundreds of orange and black snakes fall out upon you, i don’t care how frightened you are of snakes, that’s going to freak you out. If suddenly, there is a worldwide plague of orange and black snakes, you are going to be a bit concerned. Even if, to the best of my recollection, nobody had been bitten by one of these snakes. And, if special cameras previously only used by NASA indicated there was a snake as large as all of London living in it’s underground tube system, you would find yourself suddenly quite frightened of snakes. I don’t even know if we progressed to the point of discovering whether they were python type snakes, or poisony fangious snakes. One thing we did discover … the reason for all the snakes… the cosmic cause of the plague… the sheer number of different versions of Law and Order on TV. I kid you not. It was Law & Order’s fault we were inundated with snakes. Such is the way of dreams. I don’t know what happened, with the snakes, after that. I became friends with Meg Ryan and we had to attend the funeral of a small jewish child who had died from some terrible illness. Anne Bancroft was there and we got a terrible case of the giggles. I know… at a funeral… of a child for pete’s sake. I didn’t say we didn’t feel bad.
Note: I do not watch Law & Order. Maybe the fact that there are 15 different flavors of this show on tv, currently, is a good thing. Maybe the world became a better place, once you were pretty much guaranteed to find an episode, new or in syndication, 24/7. On thing’s for certain, it’s not leading the tv parade of degradation. That would be “reality tv.”

Standard
dreams, movies and tv

I can’t help it man, it’s hottie overload!

i took the netflix plunge. iíve put it off for a very long time. i havenít been watching or renting a lot of movies. iíve been doing more reading, than anything else. and then i was doing more writing. but lately iíve been missing movies. iíve watched almost every movie in my library in since nanowrimo ended. well, i used most of them to procrastinate during nano, actually. but basically, the thing that made me sign up is this. cute boys. i watched a movie on the sundance channel called ìparticles of truth.î it stars gale harold of queer as folk fame. i had showtime during seasons one and two of that series, but i have not seen season three. itís due out on februrary 24th. but after watching that movie, i had a dream with gale harold in it. sigh… thank you god or goddess of dreams. anyway, i missed brian kinney… i had not seen QAF since the end of season two. mmmmmm…. brian kinney. i decided i needed to watch seasons one and two again. and i simply cannot make myself go to blockbuster, because i HATE THEM. and i canít make myself go to hollywood video because i have a $20 late fee balance. plus, it just sounds easier to get them from netflix. i should have the first three discs by monday, they say. right in time for my xmas break. perhaps if start watching seasons one and two of QAF, i can have gale harold dreams EVERY NIGHT!!! *sigh* OH! bonus, spike showed up in my dreams as well.
i desperately need to go home and go back to bed. seriously.

Standard
dreams

“Oh make it weird, put a dwarf in it!”. Everyone will go “Woah, this must be a fuckin’ dream, there’s a fuckin’ dwarf in it!”. Well I’m sick of it! You can take this dream sequence and stick it up your ass!

here are the elements of my dreams last night. first of all, i dreamed that between eastern and western washington, there was a rest stop area off the hi-way that featured a group of people selling mattresses at a discount. you could see the mattress from the hi-way itself. piles of them, displayed upon a rock formation. [we are still in eastern/central washington at this point, so things are more dry and arid.] also, while you were there, you could watch this spinal tapesque rockband perform. they would perform outdoors, and sell their own albums, which were indeed vinyl. they were awesome and terribly funny, but i canít really remember the name. it started with an A. and i had this weird triangular bolt thing, that was part of their band logo, that i took from one of their shows. i ran into david bowie there. kam was with me, and she, too, loved them. later, we climbed the rock formations and pushed the mattresses off the cliff. it was fun.
then, later, i went to my normal laundromat place, were i used to drop off my laundry to be done. [yes, laundry is on my mind.] and all of the sudden, the lights turned off and i was in the dark. a voice came over the pa system telling me they were closing their doors for good. i saw a light coming through a door on the far side of the laundromat that really wasnít like my laundromat at all, and followed it. i discovered that the laundromat was connected to a huge, modern house. that was built on hill, in seattle. whereas the actual laundromat is located in woodinville. i donít know…itís a dream. anyway, this place was under construction, it was beautiful with high cathedral ceilings and plate glass windows with a view of elliot bay. i was walking along planks that were suspended several feet in the air, above lower floors, and exploring the house. i walked through a door and suddenly i was in this crazy club. and it belonged to the crazy spinal tapesque band. i was so excited, i ran right into them. i apologized for being in their house, it was an accident, and then i told them how much i loved them, and showed them the little bolt i had stolen from their show, i wore it on my finger like a ring. they were terribly sorry to tell me that they were breaking up, but i should stay, and enjoy myself. bummer, i loved those guys. suddenly i was in this room, where tiny japanese children were performing in a dance recital for their parents. there were many non japanese parents with their non japanese children there, and the parents were explaining how they, the children, would be starting this dance class tomorrow. the non japanese children didnít look all that interested. i donít know why, because this was the most awesome dance class iíd ever seen. the floor upon which they were dancing was bouncy, like a trampoline. and there were different things strewn about the floor, to make noises. the dance itself consisted of the tiny japanese children jumping and running and yelling, making the different objects move and shake and make noises. they were doing an interpretive dance of weather. thunderstorms, and rain and wind…. i think this whole thing was inspired by those rain sticks, that you turn, and seeds fall to the other end – mimicking the sounds of rain. you know what iím talking about? these kids were doing a lot of jumping. it looked fun. and to get out of the room, i had to cross this floor, which was quite large, and divided into sections, to keep the noise making objects separate. i couldnít help bouncing to the other side. no one seemed to mind.
and then i was in seattle. with fee and howie and my paternal grandparents. who were in much better health than the truly are, but still rather frail. i had lost my car. we could not find it. i wondered the streets looking for it, hitting they remote on my keys to make it flash itís headlights and honk the horn. [something that it doesnít really do, in real life.] it made a lot of cars honk and light up, but none of them were mine. howie decided to go off and look for it, while we sat and had coffee. my grandparents were very tired. we were at this hotel that was called the flamingo. it had several really cool pools. so we decided to check them out. in order to get from one pool, to another, you had to go through a pool. there was no way to walk around them, really. thatís when i discovered that if i walked very quickly, i could basically walk on water. take THAT son of god!! we got to this beautiful hot springs pool that had plants all around, but left a little sky light above. you could feel a soft misty rain fall on your face, which was so delightful with the hot water. while she was walking across it, fee stopped to look up and feel the rain, she paused to long, and therefore fell into the water. you have to keep walking to stay on top of it. itís ok, tho. because for some reason, we were in bathing suits. now, my grandparents were standing at the edge of the first pool. they knew they couldnít walk fast enough to stay on top of the water. but some punk kid ran past and pushed my grandma into the pool. some little kid thought heíd save her, and dived in, but in saving her, he was doing a much better job of drowning her, so i dove in and got her. she was unhurt, but wet. so we took her to a beauty parlor and got her hair dried. howie came back and told us he found the car. now, in this dream, howie was often someone else. he was still feeís husband, but he was some guy i worked with, or someone i used to know, he kept changing. and he was stupid, because when he tried to take us to the car, he couldnít find it.
thatís when i woke up, thinking my car had been stolen. now please, go ahead and interpret that. and explain the tiny bouncy japanese children to me. [i apologize, as i meant to write this first thing this morning, when there were soooo many delightful details still fresh. but did not have time. now everything has faded and it sounds boring. still…. tiny bouncing japanese children?]

Standard