The Dream Journal Project

Kanye sits in the car and tweets

2011-10-21T08:33:00.000-07:00

Kanye West looked like a combination of Kanye West and Eminem, and he was sitting in my spot in Jacob and I's car. And I kept being all "Kanye! Get out of our car! I don't want to get the police involved." And he kept just sitting there and tweeting about how wronged he was being, but I had like 5 dozen roses to take home for Beckah's birthday and I was getting impatient, so I called the Rexburg Police. Even though we were in Fremont. As soon as he heard me start to explain to the police what was going on, he got out, even though he was still grumbly about it. Geez, Kanye.

Visions of the Future?

2011-10-02T15:01:00.000-07:00

The 2nd BYU-Idaho Theatre Summer Camp took place on a cruise ship. So we got a cruise, in ADDITION to our salaries as camp instructors, so that was pretty awesome. The ship was fairly small, but it had a carousel and a pool, a few rich people and I think I recall a pirate or two. The camp had two guest faculty members: Ben Isaacs and Whoopi Goldberg. At one point, the ship spun around and scraped against the wooden dock we were aiming for, but it was okay because a flock of seagulls saved us all.

I also stopped Wendy's employees from smoking marijuana, but that was the B-plot of my dream, and not nearly as awesome as the cruise ship theatre camp part.

Dream Snippet

2011-09-07T21:54:00.000-07:00

Shahrukh Khan broke up with me in a pancake house. And then my parents and some guy from a reality TV show brought me to Disneyland and gave me $500 every day to spend on new clothes while we were there. And then Jacob came and everything was better permanently, and I didn't care about whether or not Shahrukh Khan broke up with me.

Five-minute Dreams

2011-08-27T16:29:00.000-07:00

I had a strange morning. I hit snooze about fifteen times, like I do every morning nowadays, but in between each snooze alarm, I had a distinct dream. Sometimes they were connected, but it was especially odd because there's only five minutes between each alarm. So apparently, each dream was less than five minutes. I don't remember the order, but I dreamed:

1. Ray and my mom had a haunted house, which we weren't very scared by because we helped set it up. We were in another part of the house, where everyone was cooking, but I couldn't concentrate on this book I was reading, so I went INTO the haunted house and just hid in a corner while tours went on. That's all I really remember, except there were dancing skeletons. Which was fun.

2. We had found an antique table with stained glass inlays, which I thought looked pretty run-of-the-mill, but which others around me were so impressed by that they decided the table couldn't have been made by human hands. So we set off to Mongolia to an Alien Artifact Convention to have our table appraised.

3. Sarah Jagger was visiting, and becoming besties with Jacob and I's two-year-old daughter, who had the ability to open any door, no matter what.

4. Sarah Jagger was visiting, and we went outside and saw the Taits. Heather was holding an older Kaitlynn (about a year and a half) on her hip, but when Kaitlynn saw me, she grinned and wiggled to get down and then ran toward me to be hugged. (I hope that dream comes true...it was so sweet! And I think my brain did a pretty accurate job of aging Kaitlynn.)

And I know there were others. But I can't remember them.

Sleep poetry

2011-07-14T10:59:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I write lines of poems down in my sleep. Well, in that half-awake, half-asleep state that you get into sometimes, where weird things make sense. (Speaking of that, here's a great story about that state of being.) I always think "This is such a great line! I gotta write this down so I don't forget it...it's going to be one of the greatest poems I've ever written!" But it's always something crazy.

Something like this. Here's what I wrote last night:

Ducks speak in tongues.
Verbs verbs,
wrong sums,
then nouns.
I have been born
from the viscera of
my sleepiness.

July 11 - Lake Elizabeth and tricks of the mind

2011-07-12T10:18:00.000-07:00

Heather and I were visiting Lake Elizabeth in Fremont, and for a while Jacob and Jordan are with us. We wander into a boathouse and find Opa there, working on a small remote controlled boat. He’s a much younger version of himself, and it’s a surprise to see him there, but he greets us warmly and serenely, and sends us on our way.

We continue our walk, and Jordan and Jacob get distracted and end up falling behind. Around the other side of Lake Elizabeth, there’s a labyrinthine little shopping village, similar to Pier 39, but everything is on a smaller scale…the sidewalks, the doorways. Not too much smaller, but as if it were made for people who were an average of a little under 5 feet tall. Heather and I are wandering around when we hear Jordan, and all of a sudden it becomes a game to run away from him, so we duck down a boarded walk and run, laughing as Jordan chases us. We keep repeating this game, and every time he gets closer and closer to catching up to us. Finally, we escape by crawling through a small wooden tunnel, fifty feet above the ground…a sort of “sky-walk” (except it’s a sky-crawl). Jordan sees us go in, and then as Heather and I get out the other side, we see that to save time, Jordan has climbed on top of the sky-walk tunnel and is running along the ridge of the roof of it to catch us.

All of a sudden, from our side, John Cleese, and Roger Merrill (who is wearing a fake moustache) climb up onto the ridge of the roof and begin chasing Jordan. It was hysterically funny in my dream, and Jordan, Heather and I were dying of laughter. Jordan was finally “captured” and he joined us, and we spent the rest of the dream telling the story. (Somehow the fact that we met John Cleese never really was extraordinary.)

When we caught up with Jacob, we discovered that he had run into Derren Brown, and the two were discussing his next big “trick” thing. (Jacob and I have been on a youtube binge of this fellow lately, and both of us keep having dreams about him. He's probably making us do that on purpose, the bugger. He's a fascinating person.) Anyway, the only part I remember is that it involved convincing strangers that he was a tennis coach, and that his trainee was a champion who couldn’t find a court to play on. We had to knock on people’s doors and convince them to let us play on their tennis courts, just to practice, even if they didn’t have a tennis court.

In the process of knocking on these doors and finding someone to let us do so, we ended up in an Easter dress shop with a ton of people…I remember the following people were there: Dave Grohl, Tyler Beus, Amanda Horrocks, Omar Hansen, Melissa Whittaker, Jenny’s sister Kelly and her daughter, and a recently returned missionary from our ward whose name I don’t even know. Then the dream took this dark turn, and I don’t remember the details…all I remember is that all of these people in this house were actually trapped there.

It was an elaborate building…it had a gym and a warehouse and several different shops. Everyone in the building had slowly been brainwashed, and as the dream continued, I slowly realized how close they were to destruction. As the dream went on, we would see little clues of how far gone these people were, and slowly the clues became more and more dreadful. At first, we would find a few dirty books around, and find food left out for days, or realize that someone hadn’t changed their clothes in days. But as time went on, I realized that children there were starving, and I would walk into rooms to find secret orgies going on, and no one could remember anyone else’s name. I finally found Jacob left on a table downstairs, dying of starvation. The people around him kept saying “The master said soap and water, soap and water only,” and they were squeezing a sponge of soapy water over his face, waiting for him to revive.

I pushed them out of the way and tried to feed him some cereal that I had found, but he was unconscious. In the room down the hall, I could hear a meeting of some kind going on, and I finally stomped over and opened the door. I didn’t stop walking but interrupted what was going on and said “I move that anyone in the vicinity with medical training of any kind be called upon to save the lives of Omar Hansen and Jacob Chapman!”

The room was silent, and finally someone said “Who seconds the motion?” And slowly, hands went up as more and more people sort of “woke up” and realized what they needed to do.

I’m not sure exactly what happened next, but it seemed like suddenly everything was different, and suddenly Derren Brown was there, smiling at me and helping us put everything to rights.

(There was also a bit with Hyrum Conrad being dressed as a tourist--Hawai'ian print shirt, etc--and having a huge emotional breakdown, but I don't remember the details.)

Being a woman with a sword

2011-07-02T09:46:00.000-07:00

Beckah and I are on campus, but it's a different version of campus. We are walking toward the car, where it's parked, and discover that a huge old SUV thing with a lift kit has parked ON TOP of our car. Or "over," to be more precise. We climb in and prepare to back out from under this car, when we start to notice that things are weird...the seats are pushed forward, things are missing (like my wallet), and we find a sword and a small dagger. And the keys are suddenly magically tied to my shoelace. Then we find a letter calling us to play this role-playing fantasy game, which makes us both furious. We have a ton of stuff to do and these people stole some of our belongings.

After leaving and conferring with friends and family, we bring Isha and dad back, and then we all climb into the SUV ourselves. We start looking through their trash, looking for a name or phone number. We find a wallet, but suspiciously, we find that they have at least four different driver's licenses (all with different names and phone numbers). We discover a few advertisements for a story-telling group, and the name on the flier is the same as the name on one of the driver's licenses, so I call Judy to ask her if she has contact info for this group. But Shadi answers the phone (my old boss from Kirby) and tells me Judy isn't there. Then we find a cell phone, and Isha and dad somehow figure out how to find all of their contact info by taking the cell phone and hooking it up to a computer and running a "spider program." Which consisted of actual spiders digging through the info, wrapping what we wanted in silk, and delivering it to us.

So we call the number, and a friendly, slightly flirty guy answers and says he's excited to meet us and that he'll meet us at the car(s). When he comes, it's him and his brother, and they're both nerdy but extremely shmoozy. We request our belongings (wallet, especially) and say something to the effect of "Take your invitation back. We don't want to play." The main guy smiles and starts opening the doors of my car, and digging things out that I didn't even know were there, but his familiarity makes me furious. I take the sword out of the car, and hand Beckah the dagger. I walk up to the main guy, and point the sword at him.

"Here. You forgot this," I say. He smiles and starts to take the hilt from my hand. Before he can take it, I snatch it away and put the sword at his throat. "And if you ever try to steal things from this car again, I will end you." I glare for a moment, then start to return to the car.

He smiles and says "Why should you have the right to decline this game?"

I turn and lean on the sword. A breeze picks up and blows my hair (which is long in this dream). "Because I am a woman. And that is enough."

The guy smiles again, but this time like something has dawned on him. "Now," I say. "I'll return this sword to you, and you and your dumb-ass brother get your SUV off my car." (In retrospect, it seems that returning the sword was a risky thing to do given the confrontation. But in my dream, my certainty in the power of my sex was so solid that it didn't cross my mind to worry.) The two boys get in their car and have some trouble figuring out how to move it, until one of them says "Just do the same thing you did last time." And then the other farts and the power of it lifts the entire car up into the air enough so that they can back up and "free" my car.

And then Beckah, Isha, my dad and I all drive into the sunset.

I'll come back and analyze this dream a little later. Right now I'm too swept up in its awesomeness.

Lately

2011-06-04T15:27:00.000-07:00

(I want to revive this blog. Even if it's just an exercise to keep me writing.)

I've been dreaming about babies a lot lately. Probably a combination of several very close friends being about to give birth/just recently gave birth. But I think part of it is also because of all the new lifestyle changes that Jacob and I have been making lately. We're both trying to be more healthy, more positive, more courageous. Some of the babies I dream about must be a symbol of those new ideas.

It's also part of the vicious broody cycle...

Feeling broody --> Dreams about babies --> Feeling broody --> Dreams about babies --> etc.

"Why are you building a time machine? I'm right here. Just kiss me, dammit." --Jacob Chapman, as George Washington

2009-09-10T22:26:00.000-07:00

Goal (which is dependent on the ability to control dreams):
Have a make-out dream about every American president.

One down, forty-three to go.

More snippets of dreamage

2009-09-03T10:28:00.000-07:00

- Teaching Ronald Weasley how to pirouette.

- Killing the White Witch in a bathtub in a cheap hotel, in this totally gruesome battle involving giant pencils, spears, bead curtains, and fishnets. She wouldn't die and I kept having to stab her over and over and over.

- Befriending a talking pelican from London on the shores of a lake in Yellowstone, who turned out to be a man, and I had to keep tap-dancing in Safeway to keep him from turning back into a pelican.

- Beckah needing a costume to go to a party at our old Parkside Place apartments in Fremont at the last minute, so I suggested she go as a zombie. We ripped up the clothes she happened to have on, and then went outside and smeared dirt all over them. It was a great idea, except Oma and Opa pointed out that it ruined the only outfit she had.

- I'm friends with Zac Efron. I've been having dreams about this for weeks now. We've taken a humanities class together with our mutual friend Danny, and hid in a residential area from the authorities, who were mad that we stole a Little Mermaid poster. I keep thinking of adding Zac as a friend on facebook before remembering that we're not ACTUALLY friends.

Dream blur(b)s

2009-07-16T07:03:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, July 14th: I was extremely pregnant, but still had until October before I was due. I started having what I thought were contractions, and had to drive myself to the closest emergency room, in Idaho Falls. I was really scared, but it turned out that it was just standard pain that comes with pregnancy (?). My mom, who turned out to have a degree in "Pharmacy" which I'd forgotten about, was the main source of comfort and stability...the voice of reason in my pregnancy-induced panic. [Look up "pregnant" on the online Dream Symbols dictionary--link to the right--and this dream is pretty neat.]

Wednesday, July 15th: Michael Jackson and I were hanging out in an LDS Church building with my family in Virginia. (As in from when my family lived in Virginia.) It was before he got super-dooper weird...he was frozen at around the time that "Off the Wall" was released. We skipped Sunday school because A) we needed to go to the Broulims Bakery to help a lady order a cake, and B) he didn't want to deal with all the publicity. We were really really close friends, and a lady in the foyer thought we were recently married, and we just went with it to avoid trying to explain that we weren't. It was difficult, because I knew and he knew that he was going to die soon, but I enjoyed being close to him while we had the time.

Thursday, July 16th: I was suddenly a contestant on this season of "So You Think You Can Dance." We were all supposed to act like I'd been there the whole time, and everyone (Mia, Nigel, etc.) was too busy to really sit down with me and explain everything. So I just depended on the cast. Jason and I got to be good friends, except one night he kept trying to kiss me. I finally let him, just to get him to stop, but then...I didn't want to stop. Except I did stop, because Twitch was in the room and he was clearly jealous. I'm apparently one hot commodity in my dreams.

Friday, July 17th: Dad and I were keeping a dinosaur egg under the old school bus that was in our yard. We knew it was a Tyrannosaurus Rex because of the rate at which the egg was growing, and because of the paisley pattern on its shell. About 4 days before the egg was to hatch, I panicked and realized what a terrible idea it was to raise a T-Rex. But Dad would have none of it. So instead, I planned a picnic at "R mountain" with my sisters, but we got distracted by the fact that one of the "winning youtube videos" in the latest issue of Newsweek was of some of my friends here at BYU-Idaho.

Make-out Mix-ups

2009-06-19T10:05:00.000-07:00

Just a funny little dream. Beckah and I were on some kind of double-date, never mind the details, because I can’t remember them. Well, at the end of the date, the activity planned was “making out.” You know how you plan…meal, trip to the sand dunes, movie? Well, our date plan was meal, something, make out. Except when it got to that point, we somehow accidentally…switched partners, and I found myself snogging with Evan Kasprzak of this season of “So You Think You Can Dance.” It was pleasant for a few minutes and then I pulled away and said “Wait, hold on. I don’t think I’m supposed to be making out with you. You’re too short.” I turned to Beckah and her date, Jordan, but when I made the comment about Evan being too short, Jordan just looked at me like “So am I. Way to be sensitive about height.” Then I woke up.

Always get free texting...just in case.

2009-06-15T23:08:00.000-07:00

I was trapped in a basement, where some bad guys had kidnapped and trapped the spirit of Spencer W. Kimball. And the only way that he could escape/be set free is if Addison or Jillian of the Playmill Cast of 2009 texted me. But I couldn't text either of them. So I was trying desperately to somehow "use" the spirit of Spencer W. Kimball to send them both telepathic messages so they would know they had to text me. Finally, Addison DID! It was something trivial and irrelevant to the desperate situation we were in, but nevertheless it saved the day, and the spirit of Spencer W. Kimball was set free.

This could be a film as famous as Casablanca

2009-06-04T22:30:00.000-07:00

Ok... My dreams:

1. I dreamed that I was hiking up this snowy mountain. Suddenly I heard this terrible roar. I looked and above this snowy mound I saw a huge killer whale! It was beached on the top of the mountain. It opened it's mouth and lifted it's tail at me. I was so frightened but also really thrilled. SO I ran and called for help and called for anyone with a camera. And who came to my rescue? David Walker. He holds me and comforts me. We almost have a "moment" and then he looks and me and say, "So how does it feel to be attracted to a gay man?" And I reply with, "Like every other man I can't have."

2. I don't remember much of this. I do know that I was on a really tall tower and I had to jump off and an eagle would catch me. Then somehow I dreamed about pregnant dragons. To show that they were pregnant I showed the doctor used tampons which he opened up and and inside were another, smaller used tampon which clearly indicates pregnancy.

I don't have a lot of time to sleep, let alone dream, but when I do... As Julia says, "I'd like to take a trip in your imagination some time."

Destiny

2009-05-24T12:30:00.000-07:00

"Ideals are like stars: you will not succeed in touching them with your hands, but like the seafaring man on the ocean desert of waters, you choose them as your guides, and following them, you reach your destiny." --Carl Schurz

It's been a while since anyone's recorded anything here, but I've just had a couple of really cool dreams lately that I want to share. Nothing spectacular, or even particularly detailed, but they've been sort of big cues from the universe/the Lord/my own knowledge of myself as to my life, which has been awesome.

The first one was several weeks ago. I dreamt that I was student teaching at my old high school, with my friend Chalise Ludlow as my cooperating teacher. (I did a few shows with Chalise here at BYU-I before she graduated, and she currently teaches at Rigby High School about 20 minutes away.) It was a little nerve-wracking, and I remember in my dream that I had a vague sense of not knowing exactly what I was doing or what was going on, but knowing that I was qualified enough to do the best I could with what I had. I remember I had great students. I remember they were talented and quirky. I remember some of them were there because they wanted to act, and others were there because they didn't fit in anywhere else. It was a fairly realistic dream for the most part...I remember I taught a film class, an acting class, and a musical theatre performance class. The other parts of the dream that were a little less couched in reality were pretty symbolic, actually -- there was this whole thing about a train and trying to decide to take the train now or to drive around town for a while and catch another train later. (Journey -- get on the graduation train now, or just take it easy and learn for now, with graduation sometime in the future.) The other details of the dream are fading, and actually not terribly important. But I woke up thinking "Yes. Time to hop on that train. THAT is what I want. I love performing, I love learning, and I love BYU-Idaho. But it is time to get my degree." It was kinda cool to be motivated by that. And conveniently, even in hopping on that train, I still have 2 more years of learning, performing, and BYU-Idaho-ing. The example of Shanelle and her love for her kids at Kearns, and Chalise's passion for what she does, and that dream have reminded me of why I came here to this school in the first place...of what I want and why. I want to teach high school. I will learn and perform for my whole life. While teaching high school.

The other dream I had just last night. I dreamt that I was wandering around somewhere as part of some sort of performing arts day camp at a high school or university. It was pretty prestigious, full of proffessional-level talent, and now that I think about it, I don't remember exactly what I was doing there. But anyway. Someone stopped me and told me I was supposed to be in room blah-blah-blah to start choreography rehearsal. I dashed off, thinking that they'd made some mistake, either in choosing me to choreograph, or in not notifying me earlier that I was choreographing. I get to the room, and Mia Michaels is there, along with Thayne from season four of "So You Think You Can Dance." Mia Michaels was the assistant choreographer, which meant she watched my choreo and helped correct dancers where needed. Thayne was just one of the students. I remember feeling slightly intimidated, but more just surprised that Mia Michaels was my ASSISTANT choreographer. Intimidated mostly because I hadn't prepared anything, and had to make stuff up almost on the spot.

I still remember my choreography and it was kinda boring. But apparently more difficult than I thought, because everyone kept getting off on the counts. The number of students I was teaching kept building every time we went through the combination. Eventually it was so crowded that dancers had just enough space to do their moves. Whenever we stopped for a moment, everyone would start talking and I couldn't yell over everyone and was getting so frustrated. Finally, we were going over a jump on the first 8 counts...everyone kept jumping on "7" and having a little bit of extra time, because the jump was supposed to be on "AND 8." I was yelling over everyone, saying "Okay, just the last half of that count of 8, jumping on AND 8 -- ready, 5, 6, 7 AND 8." And hardly anyone did it. I climbed up on a chair and tried to yell over the din, until finally I got everyone's attention. I was furious. I yelled "Out of the 40-something of you here, know how many just did that jump? About 8 of you." Everyone started quieting down. There were a handful of girls who had gone to their bags by the mirrors and were talking on their cell phones. I walked over and held out my hand, saying "Cell phone, please, give me your cell phone, you will get it back after rehearsal" and taking them out of hands without giving them time to say good-bye or make explanations. (Which is probably something I would do...I have zero tolerance for that kind of disrespect.) Then I stood up on the chair again and made this speech, and it was one of those things where you don't plan what you're saying, but as you're saying it, you realize how true it is. I'll have to paraphrase a little, because I don't remember the details, but what I said went something like this:

"You guys have SO MUCH talent. And I cannot stand to see you wasting time like this. You NEED to pay attention. You NEED to listen, you NEED to dance. You guys can do things that I will never be able to do. I love dancing, I always have. And you have to dance if you're going to choreograph. But I am not half the dancer that some of you are. I'm a choreographer. You guys, all of you could go on to do incredible things, to be lead dancers in the most prestigious companies, and to made a CAREER out of your dancing. I cannot do that. I never will be able to do that. So PLEASE, do not waste the gift that you have! It is a gift that others have longed for. I'm not telling you these things to be mean, it's just that I LOVE you guys, and I want you guys to be the best you can possibly be. If you're just here to have fun, you are in the wrong place. There is a place for that, but this class is not it. You are here to dance. I am here to make you the best dancer you can possibly be, but you CANNOT DO THAT if you are not paying attention in rehearsal. Got that? Okay, let's take it from the top of that first count of 8."

Everyone was quiet and the room had that subdued and guilty but newly determined feeling that always comes after a speech like that from a director. We continued dancing and then the dream shifted to something different about Bear Creek Park and sketches for a movie set. But I woke up from that dream with a strong impression of "Yeah. That's true. I'm not the greatest dancer. I could never do some of the things these people can do. And I'm almost 24. Realistically, I can't expect to begin my dancing career now. I can always look to improve, but I'm just not meant for the dancing big leagues. But I can still contribute. Just because I'm not Mia Michaels doesn't mean that I can't choreograph. And just because I'm not Thayne doesn't mean I shouldn't put as much effort in as anyone else." It was just cool...kind of a lesson learned/reminded.

Just lots to think about. =)

Scary...

2009-02-09T07:56:00.000-08:00

I had this dream a few nights ago while we were still in Roatan. It is one of many that night, but it was definitely the most lasting.

I was living and working in some sort of Institution for mental patients or something. I was standing in a small room, wearing a white cotton dress, holding a bunch of keys. I walk to a door, and just as I reach it, it opens, and a frenzied looking man comes in and looks at me. He asks for the keys, but they're not in my hand anymore, and as he stands there looking at me, the Joker comes into the room. His face is white, but his scars are barely visible on his cheeks. His greenish hair hangs down to his shoulders, and he's wearing a kind of army green jumpsuit covered with patches. I was so frightened I backed into a corner and slid down the wall and sat there holding my knees to my chest. Then the Joker started talking, and bringing people into the room one by one, and he would kill them, and I would have to write on a white board how they died. Once there was an old man with glasses in a wheelchair, and while he was talking he suddenly started coughing and sputtering until he choked and died. Spittle was running down his mouth, and the Joker laughed and told me to write that down. I wrote, "choked as a good idea."

Then the Joker turned on the warden, and forced him down onto his knees. He held his neck and pushed his face down toward the floor and held a knife against his neck. He started chanting "I was an honest man" and other strange and horrible rhyming lines louder and louder in the warden's ear while I sat by. Then he had me put my hand to the warden's neck, and it was wet and sticky, and it came away red.

When the warden was dead, the Joker looked up at me and laughed, and I knew that he was going to cut my face to look like his, and just as he came towards me, I woke up.

I wish my dreams weren't so stressful...

2009-01-19T19:25:00.000-08:00

I hardly slept at all last night, but when I did my dreams were very rushed and stressful.

I was on the side of an abandoned road, where there was a river with a couple of trees nearby and then a big hill with lots of brown grass going off in the distance. Behind me there was a huge semi parked, with two old wooden boxcars attached behind. I had my friend Lisa's baby with me (Jonas), but at some point I saw Melissa and one of her friends from school climbing the hill with Jonas. Then I had Jonas with me, and I was carrying him in one arm and I had another little boy in my other arm. He had brown hair, and he was probably about three years old, and he had silver braces with silver bands, and I remember thinking that that was weird because he was so young. I was following my friend Lisa over behind the semi when this huge steel robot man came out of nowhere and starting shooting at us with a futuristic laser gun. We ran to the last boxcar and went inside, and as Lisa was taking care of the kids I found a large laser gun on a bunch of old sacks and picked it up and started turning all these knobs and buttons to turn it on and make it stronger. I go outside and start shooting at the robot man, and at first every time I hit him he would flinch and squirm and cry out. When I stopped, however, he laughed and then I realized that he was just toying with us and that I couldn't hurt him at all. He shot at me again but I managed to dodge it. So then I pointed the gun at him and held down the trigger, and that seemed to work. He backed up against a tree, and as I held the laser to him he started to shudder, and then all of a sudden his legs got all hazy and then bent outward at the hip, and he dropped down and hid arms came in and he was small and roundish. He came at me again, and so I let go and held down the trigger again, and he moved past me and stopped next to the boxcar. It looked like there was some kind of thick nylon net around him, and the area around him started to glow and expand. I knew what was coming next, so I called to Lisa and we hopped into the boxcar and protected the children while the robot exploded outside. When we went back out, the robot was a small ball of melting metal, and somehow Lisa managed to tie it up in the net and then she threw it in the river. I watched it and it went a short ways, and then bounced up onto the shore again. I went over to it, picked it up, and threw it in the river again, further, and I stood and watched it float away. Though some part of me knew that it wasn't over yet.

Wow, sorry this is long. Only a bit more. So then we were driving on the highway in the semi, and I was in the last boxcar watching behind us. I looked up and suddenly there was a huge dead reddish steer flying through the air, and I knew that it was supposed to land in front of us but we were driving too fast and so it landed behind us. I watched it hit the highway and then roll and the other cars try to avoid it. So then right behind us there was a huge cement mixing truck, and behind that another semi. The semi behind all of a sudden started going really fast, and hit the cement truck so that the cement truck came and hit us in the rear. We managed to go faster and get away from them, but then a huge truck carrying gasoline drove right by us and sprayed us with gas. Then a couple of fire trucks went by and for some reason they carried gas too, and they sprayed us. I was really afraid because I knew that they were going to set us on fire, when...

We pull into this tiny tourist town, with lots of little Old West shops selling ribbons and post cards and taffy, and we all pile out and go into our friend Rachel's house, where she's just setting out tea and scones for us. We all sit down and I eat a bit of scone, wondering what's going to happen to us.

Then I woke up.

A dream I finally don't understand and rather abstract! Maybe we can analyze it?!

2009-01-16T06:47:00.000-08:00

So of course I don't remember how his dream starts. It was Christmas time again and my brother had something really cool planned for me. ALL my family was over. I mean there were tons of people around my house. While I was in the kitchen I suddenly noticed all this haze covering our living room floor. My brother started throwing a fit because I guess he had hidden dry ice under a trap door (that doesn't exist in real life) and had it timed to go off Christmas morning as this big attractive way for me to find my present.

Well I found myself in that trap door trying to fix something and noticed my present was not very well wrapped. The box said "DC shoes" all over it and peeping out from the edges looked like blue galoshes. I was only slightly disappointed because I already own blue galoshes. So I opened it up to see and in fact it was a black pair of DC shoes that were not very feminine. I tried them on and despite how big they looked, they were uncomfortably small. I thought, I bet these will look better than i think because nothing looks very good from looking downward on yourself. As I went to put them away so I could act surprised on Christmas morning one of my little cousins pokes his head around the door. Then another. Soon half of my family is standing there curious to why I'm getting into the presents. But my brother wasn't there an I pleaded that no one tell him. Then all my cousins were running down the stairs to the basement (and this is mostly weird to me) and I slapped my 16ish year old 2nd cousin, Victoria, on the bum. Then I climbed up the stairs and found my dad and uncle chatting with.... second look... DUSTIN HOFFMAN! I yelled that into his face. "That's an aggressive hello" he said with a weak smile. He wasn't particularly thrilled with meeting this kind of a fan over Christmas break so I politely introduced myself and left. I kept hoping that he would like me, or the house, or something. I figured he was friends with my uncle Danny.

K this dream is long, I apologize, I will try and make it shorter. So... I ended up seeing myself as a young girl with really long luscious Ariel hair. She climbed onto a bus. It was like a home video but there were actual people before us.My cousins and i were all commenting on who had the best hair.

Then I was trying to build a fire for my family with very little resources. They were all chiding me. I got really mad at my dad and tried to hit him but it's a dream, and that's impossible. So I tied again and ended up saying, "I want to hit you really hard."

I'm not sure how the fire worked out because what I remember next is that we were in a virtual world because we were all loserishly playing video games. I decided I wanted to stop playing and started to walk out and noticed that I was going to have a long wait because Davey, Hannah, and my friend from high school, Brianna, were ahead of me. Brianna and Hannah Merrill were chatting like old friends and Brianna commented on how pregnant she looked. Davey looked uncomfortable but somehow I knew he was married to someone else who was pregnant. Hannah did not look pregnant. She was as skinny as Jessica was during Caucasian Chalk Circle performances, aka skinny. Brianna had this cute mom haircut and was apologizing to hannah for treating her like a skank before she was pregnant. BUT the weird thing was that Hannah was NOT married. So I'm not sure how that worked out. But apparently getting pregnant had turned her around and made her a really good girl.

Needless to say I woke up. I wanted to be mad at my alarm, but I set it so church music plays and you can't get mad a church music.

2009-01-05T12:09:00.000-08:00

I just had a dream where I was fighting some black guy in a bar and grill becuase he was shamelessly videotaping my senile old grandmother and laughing. Then I was trying to converse in Russian with Mexicans and all I know in spanish is where is the bathroom or how much is the handsome cat. She said I was progressing. Best dream ever.

The Dance Concert

2008-12-15T20:42:00.000-08:00

So you know how us theater junkies have dreams that it is opening night and we don't know our lines or we have to sub for someone and don't know their lines (or the like)? Well I had a similar one about this dance concert. Well apparently NO ONE knew any of the dances and we all agreed to make them up. I thought the easiest way to get away with that was to have a bunch of solos. But of course I had to work with a bunch of amateurs and no one understood. I decided that one of my solos was going to be on point. On top of that I was going to do a bunch of really slow fwetes (spelling?) in a row. Let's just say I didn't know I was so talented. Then i really had to go pee; so I went. But after I went I still felt like I ad to go. I was told that that could be really dangerous. I began to worry that maybe I had a bladder infection or something worse. But I knew the concert needed to happen. So me and a few girls from my collegiate team, Janiece and Caroline, tried to do a dance and watch each other to stay in sync. Needless to say it was disastrous. We got off stage and were changing clothes. They came up to me and were complaining that they couldn't follow m movements. I got really mad at them and slapped Janiece right in the face. But of course in dreams you can't do anything hard. SO I got even more mad that it was a weak slap so I pulled her toward me by her shirt and spat in her face. In response, she leans in and wipes off a something on my nose saying, "Uh you have something on your nose." Immediately clam I replied, "you have something on your face" and wiped my loogie off her face and wiped in on her shirt. When she told me that was gross, I said, "Well it's better than your face!" Now those girls know I love them and in real life that would not happen. (Caroline is on the far right and Janiece just left of her. I am on the far left of course.) But I feel like we can learn that service and love can combat hate better than anything else. This is what it means by "love your enemies". How cool was that dream?

Space ships, Buzz-cuts, Toddlers

2008-12-06T11:45:00.000-08:00

DREAM #1:

All I remember is that we were all going to go see “Wicked,” but couldn’t because the theatre flooded, so we jumped onto a spaceship for a spaghetti dinner instead. Then we realized that half of the people with us were zombies, so we spent about half an hour trying to avoid them and then finally managed to separate from them and lock ourselves into the “escape pod.” Then we realized that the zombies were going to destroy the ship, so we actually had to escape with the escape pod. The problem was we were a little overcrowded by about 4 people, so we took off barely in time, with people not buckled in or still scrambling to even find something to hold on to. Somehow having 4 people too many doomed us to death, so after discussing our options…killing 4 people, sending out a distress signal, etc, we decided to just try and make it back home. It was a big risk, and we knew that if we didn’t make it home within two hours, we would ALL die. So the majority of us gathered in the main room for a Sunday school lesson, just to pass the time. It was kind of a boring lesson, but I was sitting with Jordan and Sarah and Jenny and Annie, so we drew pictures to keep us entertained. Then I noticed this delicious smell and looked around to discover that it was coming from Jordan…he was smoking a cigarette and it was almost gone. I looked at him and smiled and he just said “I’m stressed. Last two hours I might be living, you know?” I said “Pass it over.” I took the almost-finished cigarette from him and just about finished it myself. It tasted like tobacco and caramel, and while I was smoking it, he lit another one. I looked at him and said “When did you start smoking?” He looked at me guiltily and said “Over the summer. It was just really stressful, you know?” I laughed and said “Yeah. That’s when I started too.” So Jordan and I sat and smoked the rest of his carton of caramel Marlboros in Sunday school while we waited to find out if we were going to live through the next few hours.

DREAM #2:

I was biking home from somewhere and noticed a handful of people I didn’t know sitting around on a corner, with Kirby flyers in their hands. I stopped to see if I knew any of them…if any of the old Kirby gang was there, but I didn’t recognize any of their faces. They were waiting for Shadi to come pick them up, so when he and Johnnie came by in the white Kirby van, I hopped in just to say hi. We stopped to drop me off at these apartments where Kathleen was washing her van, and where Jenny was living by herself a few doors down until her baby was born. There was a moment of wondering why Jenny was pregnant, but in one of those dream-moments of clarity I remembered that Jenny didn’t need a husband or even any kind of relationship to have a baby.

I wandered over to what was suddenly my own apartment, where my sister Melissa helped me trim my hair. I decided I wanted to buzz it, but changed my mind halfway through, so just the back was buzzed. We tried to layer the rest, so that it looked like a really close A-line cut, but we knew that really we’d just have to wait for it to grow out.

Then Isha came in and said it was time for me to take her to school, so she and I walked through the woods to her new school. It was the first day she was going, so I had to try and help her find her classroom. Sometimes it was Isha and sometimes it was Beckah that I was helping. We were wandering around South Medford High School, which had all these additions to it, and I realized as I was walking through them that they were actually the kid’s section of the Fremont Main Library. They had apparently just transferred the entire chunk of the building from California to South Medford. They also had a new theatre where the old theatre classroom used to be, which made me cry, it was so beautiful.

We never found the classroom, because apparently it didn’t exist. Beckah said that the whole building smelled of iron and salt, so we left a note on a map on the wall that said “Classroom 151 doesn’t exist. HCl Le.” Apparently we were using the chemical symbols to notify people of the iron and salt smell. I have no idea if that’s correct or not.

My sister stayed at the school, and I walked home again through the woods to the apartments, but on my way, I ran into JD and Melissa Taylor with their son, Shadi and Stacey and their baby (who in reality hasn’t been born yet, but in my dream she was like two), and a handful of other people I didn’t know. They were on a group outing to the park that was just through the woods a little further, but they were stopped because Jaden, the Taylor’s son, was trying to draw their attention to something on the ground. They were leaning over a metal railing, which all of a sudden I remembered was supposed to be decorated for Christmas, so I quickly hung a “Season’s Greetings” sign on it while watching Jaden try to tell JD what it was he wanted.

Apparently Jaden was bizarrely good at communicating for his age, but it wasn’t necessarily in words. He seemed to share this semi-telepathic bond with his parents, but it was hazy and it was only with them. Finally JD figured out that Jaden wanted the seashell that was on the ground next to the railing I was decorating. He picked it up and then all of a sudden we noticed that there were dozens of shells all over. We spent a few minutes picking them up and touching them and playing with them and showing them to the toddlers in our midst. Shadi and Stacey’s daughter got upset because one of the shells was “still alive” so instead of being hard, it was soft and porous on the outside. It really bothered her, so Jasper Cullen came and kindly took it from her and we all kept walking to the park which was just around the bend. The baby girl was upset because she really wanted a shell, but she didn’t want an alive one, so Jasper comforted her by promising that we could all play baseball in the park. I looked at the crowded and sunshiney park, and asked “Uh, can you do that?” He smiled at me and said “Nope.” And so we all went back to the apartments instead, where we tried to distract the toddlers with half a dozen metal folding chairs.

Guess what I dreamed about...

2008-11-26T19:14:00.000-08:00

That's right! House. Again. I haven't even watched in forever. Anyway.

I dreamed that I was part of House's team, and that he had left me some notes but I had to take a shower before I went into work. Which shower was apparently on the top bunk of a set of bunk beds. So I took my shower, and then I looked at one of the notes before stuffing it in my pocket, and it had a column of numbers on one side (four numbers, around 450, except that the last number was like 600-and something) and then another column of numbers next to it, about half each number. Except that next to the last number was the word Double, in bold letters. I knew that it had something to do with heart rate and that the last number was mine. There was also what seemed to be a rectangle in the top right corner of the paper, but then I remembered that it was really a kid's drawing of a house, with a little sun and a little fence. (It wasn't until later, when I was telling this dream to Melissa, that she pointed out that there was a picture of a house on the note from House. Ha!)

So then it switched to where I was wearing a school uniform (white shirt and navy trousers) and I had a backpack on, and I was running through a group of buildings. I ran up to this one building, where Bruce Willis (who had bright orange hair) was standing guard, but I said something to him and pulled open the glass doors and ran inside. The building was open and all white and silver, and there was a large sweeping staircase at the far wall and bulletin boards along the walls. There were a few people walking around, and some sort of really nerdy Shia LaBeouf was standing there watching me. He was wearing a white shirt and plaid shorts, and had these thick black glasses on. But I ran past him and there was this other nerdy guy reading one of the bulletin boards (glasses and orange plaid shirt) who looked like a combination of someone famous and the twelve-year-old kid from the weird British show I had watched the night before. He was rather tall, but as I ran past him I jumped up and kissed him and then kept running. He yelled after me, "Hey, was I supposed to kiss you back?" but I just yelled "Don't worry about it!" over my shoulder and ran up the stairs. When I reached the top I went into a two room office (one of the rooms was in front, the other in back) and I went to the back room where Kutner, Taub, and Thirteen were sitting. I sat down with them and I was breathing heavily because I had been running, but I knew that we had to talk about the heart rate thing. So then the nerdy guy that I had kissed came in and sat behind the desk, and told us that he had something that could slow our heart rates down. He took out some white powder and poured it onto the desk and I knew that it was some sort of drug and I was astonished that he would have something like that. He divided it up and sprinkled it onto apple slices and gave them to us all, but I didn't take one. I told him that he was crazy and that he shouldn't be doing this, and that House was sure to find out, but Taub, Kutner, and Thirteen all took a slice and started eating it. I told them that they should stop, and then House came into the front office and started going through drawers and stuff, and the others saw him and just kept eating their apple slices. I knew that they trusted me not to rat them out, because we all knew that House was going to come talk to me individually. I didn't know what I was going to do, and for some reason I kept thinking of nerdy Shia LaBeouf and how I had just run past him, and how he probably would have been a better friend.

Then I woke up.

Waffle Blocks, Outer Space, Encoded Driftwood, and Lennon/McCartney

2008-11-25T19:53:00.000-08:00

I had this dream a few months ago, and it was awesome.

First and foremost, John Lennon was alive. Secondly, his partnership with Paul McCartney had been restored. Apparently the dream took place in the mid-80s, as both John and Paul were all middle-aged and mellow and domestic and lovely (those of you who know me will be able to imagine how much this delighted my soul).

Lennon, 1980

McCartney, c. 1984

Like all good literary and/or cinematic partnerships, theirs was one of constant banter overlaying a deep mutual understanding and affection. The nature of their collaboration had changed a little, however. Instead of being songwriters, they were on a mission to save the universe from the Corrupt Bureaucratic Empire which held all sentient life under its iron thumb of censorship and stagnation. Their first order of business was to get approval from said government to rent a space-travel pod. The Pod-Approval-Giver guy (who was large and hulking in an overgrown warthog sort of way... I'm not sure if he was supposed to be an alien or not) was skeptical of their intentions; Lennon/McCartney's reputation had preceded them, apparently. But John and Paul managed to convince him by the fact that they were bringing their wives along.

"See," they said, having turned themselves partly into giant replicas of those fat plastic waffle-block toys that usually came with a wheeled green base, ostensibly so that you could build a wagon or something, though every kid I ever knew just used it as a skateboard while pretending to be old and cool enough to actually own a skateboard.

Anyway, John and Paul demonstrated the innocence of their intentions by becoming humanoid/waffle-block boxes and fitting themselves together with their respective spouses (John was red, Yoko blue, Paul green, Linda yellow). Somehow this convinced hulking warthog dude, and he rented them the Space Pod (a small spherical spacecraft, good only for travel within a single solar system).

They shot away to a different planet very much like earth (I don't know if the dream started out in our solar system or not), where they hiked around in an awesome canyon-ridden jungle for a while before coming to the ocean and finding what they were looking for: a piece of driftwood.

The grooves and crevices of this driftwood were encoded with Special Information which would enable John and Paul to defeat the Empire. They were the only people in the universe who were able to decipher it. There was a very cool acid-trip-like sequence where I was able to zoom in with my mind on the hidden code and see it all come spilling out in iridescent digitization. It was groovy.

Next scene was a big epic Space Battle. John and Paul manned the controls of their nifty new spaceship (a definite upgrade from the Pod), and I was aware that in this age, we had discovered that the fabric of space was knit together by a three-dimensional pattern of invisible energy threads, sort of in the shape of chicken-wire. For space travel, we had also discovered that the way to achieve maximum maneuverability was to tap into these energy threads. For example, the fastest way to turn around and face the opposite direction was not to turn around using your own power, but to move ahead along one of the energy threads and essentially loop around to your original position, twisting to face the other way. Anyway, this was the method of space-motion used in the battle and I thought it was cool and that I'd mention it.

As I say, John and Paul fought away, their complementary natures and abilities making them the perfect duo. I assume they had some sort of army under their command at this point, though that was never addressed. John was in charge of large missile deployment and overall battle strategy, advances and retreats, while Paul was in charge of reconnaissance, tapping into enemy spaceships' information systems, creating distractions and diversions, and occasionally acting as a sniper. I liked this because I think it's a pretty good reflection of their personalities and songwriting styles. John is interested in the big picture, Paul deals with details. John is straightforward, Paul is obscure. John speaks universal truths, Paul finds the universe contained in a seashell. John makes sweeping statements in his songs, Paul describes specific images. John says, "All you need is love," Paul says, "Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in a church where a wedding has been." John says, "Well I'm lonely; wanna die," Paul says, "My hair is a tangled beretta." John says "Beautiful beautiful beautiful beautiful boy," Paul says, "Picking up a mountain: Mama's little girl."

I don't remember how the dream ended. I'm sure Lennon and McCartney, having already conquered the world back in the 60s, had no trouble conquering the universe together this time around. I loved every minute of this dream. It was probably the best one I've ever had.

Not a dream per se

2008-11-25T15:53:00.000-08:00

But here's the latest "sleep-poetry" I've found.

I awoke a couple of weeks ago and found on a piece of paper next to my bed, the slightly illegible words:

"MY COMPUTER TELLS ME THAT I'M SEXY
BUT THAT'S OKAY
BECAUSE I'M PREGNANT."

Hm. Not sure what I was thinking about, or why that was so deep. But it's a keeper. Maybe I'll actually write a real poem based on that first line.

Uhhh...

2008-11-24T18:03:00.000-08:00

Kay, so this dream was particularly weird.

I'm an elephant. That is, I'm wearing an elephant costume which consists primarily of a giant head, very simplified and cartoony, made from that stretchy nylon material which is usually used to make pillows stuffed with tiny beads. Like the Squishy or Shanelle's bizarre pink blanket. Only this one is bright turquoise. You see, I'm sort of only portraying an elephant (I experience most of my dreams at least partially as if they're a movie I'm directing), but I'm also sort of really an elephant. I'm not myself, either... I'm a sort of more grownup, smartass, world-savvy, elephantine version of me. I spend much of my time trying to get my limp, bead-filled trunk to behave organically and being surprisedly relieved that no one seems to notice my hand manipulating it.

Anyway, I'm called into my Boss' office. We work for some sort of high-profile, uber-hip and important company. She is blond, middle-aged, attractive in a totally un-frilly way. She tells me my assignment is to go find this other woman (a colleague of mine) who has gone missing or is playing hooky or has simply misunderstood her assignment... anyway, she's not where she's supposed to be.

"I'm sorry to call you in on your day off," says my Boss, "but who else could I send?"

"Who else indeed?" I agree, smugly. I'm an extremely competent employee.

"Well, enjoy your flight. You'll need to make all your traveling arrangements. She's in that place... oh what is it called... you know..."

"Right, the British equivalent of the Bahamas."

"Yes, exactly! But what is it called?"

Neither of us can remember, so we press a button and this huge sepia-toned holographic world map appears all around us (our office building is equipped with ALL the latest technology) and then I'm somewhere else entirely, having never found out the name of the place I was supposed to go, though I remember thinking in my dream, "Oh! I think that place is called Majorca! I remember the Dursleys mentioning it in Harry Potter! Pity I didn't remember that back at the office..."

Anyway, now I'm walking along a series of rooms which are a cross between train compartments and old abandoned Victorian manor-rooms. Beckah is there, but I'm still my elephant character.

"Hey, help me open this trunk," she says. "I think there are some Reeses Pieces in here."

We pry it open (it's rusty and covered in dust) and find, to our disappointment, a set of toys and hundreds of bags of those uber-cheap generic-brand peanut butter taffy things. Gross. We look at the toys instead, which are a set of tablets about the size of a pack of cards, intricately carved and painted to look like a cross between space-age robots and Native American totems. One of them (the red and green one) is the father of this family of tablets, and for some reason I find this utterly hilarious and start making up a game where the father goes to the bathroom in the middle of the night to take a bath in his big jacuzzi-style tub (suddenly I have a whole doll-house for these toys), and is found in the morning by his family, drowned -- and now they're not robot-totem-tablets, but rather ferret-shaped stuffed animals with long green algae growing all over them instead of synthetic fur. Why I thought this was a funny or appropriate game, I have no idea.

All this time I've been (pretending to be?) an elephant with a giant stretchy turquoise bead-head.

That's all I remember. Help.

I just can't seem to get enough of House in real life....

2008-11-22T15:59:00.000-08:00

In this dream, I had a huge crush on Kutner, and I kept trying to get him to notice me or something. We were on this train that serviced some sort of animal park or something, and we were in the "dining car," which was really just a big cafeteria. Kutner was sitting in a corner, and I was too shy to talk to him, so I went to the counter to get something to eat. They had a bunch of cakes and pastries in the counter, and I really wanted a piece of chocolate cake with mint frosting. There was one piece left of that cake, and for some reason I knew that I couldn't have it because they always needed to leave one piece in the counter, for display or for some other irrational reason. So I asked the lady if they had any more of the chocolate mint cake cooking or in the back, and somehow I ended up with a huge piece on a plate, surrounded by lots of pieces of banana bread. Somehow she implied that I could share with someone, specifically Kutner. So I put my stuff down and went over to talk with him, and I asked him if he wanted to come sit with me. He said that he couldn't, because he needed to do something with "them" (I assume he meant Taub and Thirteen) and even when I insisted and asked if he was sure, he declined. So instead I went into the bathroom, which for some reason was really dark, and there was an electronic map of the train and the park on the wall, and the little train was flashing where we were. That's all I remember from that part.

There was also something about me and the Lindsey's and some guys in suits going to the temple, and I was skateboarding, and then my board split and became two little skateboards, and I tried skating with those, but it was really hard. I don't recommend trying it.

Sweat pants vs Superman

2008-11-13T03:52:00.000-08:00

I dreamed a dream where people would give up their sight for a 6th sense, well technically its still a 5th cuz you gave one up but whos counting. Anyways, you would sit down and these two knives or things that looked like the meat thermometers would swoosh up and stab you in the eyes. The wierd part is your eyes would still be totally intact, just void of color. Oh, and it made you evil. THATS RIGHT... evil. Then the evil ones would try and convince others to do the same. It was like some wierd cult or something. Anyways then my dream derailed and I was sitting in this posh black leather couch as it toured some museum-like retail store that rivaled the style of Telepopmusik's music video "Another Day" (which I adore btw), but anyways the couches stopped and I tried to find the right size of hot black underwear and of course all they had was XL. Sad. Right, so apparantly I could emit an electrical surge to obliterate any information on this now evil retail stores computers. So I do and of course they were none less than IRATE about this. So I'm on the run now as these agents are running after me and oh, I can also now run through walls. I still am in danger though as these agents have underground tunnels that are connecting every building in the near vacinity so I go up the stairs and double as a casual jogger. That's right friends, they never saw it coming and ran right past me. Who knew the super-powers were no match for sheer wit. Sadly, I woke up in mormon underwear and I couldnt emit any sort of electrical surge.

Pop!

2008-11-05T11:45:00.001-08:00

I can only remember part of this dream.

I'm arguing with Annie about wether it's "black" or "African American." We're in my house in the breakfast room/kitchen. A light is behind her and the bulb blows out. When it does, half her head disappears!!! Then she excuses herself, moves out of view and I hear the sound of a bubble popping. She comes back with her head fully inflated. I didn't see it, but I understood that half her brain and skull was gone but she could blow with her mouth closed and nose plugged (like you do when you want to pop yiour ears) and the other half of her head would just inflate so it looked normal!!!

Imagine yourself in the dog's shoes

2008-10-30T12:07:00.000-07:00

A horse is chasing me through the rooms of a mansion. I keep trying to go into smaller rooms where he might not be able to get in or hide so he'll lose me, but it doesn't work. I go into one room where a window is partly open. I slide through and catch hold of something (part of the house?, a tree? i don't know) and then let myself drop the one or two feet to the ground. Except instead of just the ground, a bunch of people are at a banquet table so I fall into an empty seat. I think the horse is about to jump through the window when my dream ends.

A House Reunion (without Cameron)

2008-10-07T15:37:00.000-07:00

I don't remember much, but Chase had come over for dinner with my family, and he was dressed in casual clothes; jeans and a dark brownish-navyish shirt that had stars or something on it. He was telling us that Australians had so many awards that they had to keep having to be really creative and making new ones up. And he meant the style of the award, not the actualy award itself (i.e. if the star award originally had five points, they had to now make a many pointed star because they couldn't use the old one again).

Then my family were all gathered for dinner again, and this time I was telling my family about the dream that I had about Dr. Chase (I was still dreaming, by the way) and House was there, and I pointed to him and said "Oh yeah! And you were there too!", though I don't actually remember him being there in the first part of the dream. And there was some part about a theatre, and we were in the spotlight booth, and Foreman was there too. That's all I remember.

Toucan Parable

2008-09-24T09:59:00.000-07:00

So, this is the story of a little random subset in a dream I had recently. The main part of the dream involved 1920's geisha, awesome pyrotechnics, and God impersonation. But never mind that.

So I find myself narrating a sort of... child's book, or maybe a child's PBS morning cartoon or something, because it was also like a nature video of a toucan Family. With my voice-overs.

This is how it went.

"Once upon a time, amid the wet, green jungle bordering the Amazon River in South America, there lived a toucan Mother, and a toucan Father, and a toucan Son. They were very happy in the jungle eating nuts, showing off their colorful bills, and chatting with their neighbor toucans.

But one day, Toucan Father decided that his family did not get enough respect from the other toucan families. So he decided to tell a little fib.

'Did you hear that my son just got back from university?' He asked his toucan neighbors as they all sat on a branch cracking nuts together.

'Toucans don't go to universities,' they replied. 'We crack nuts for food and fly around the Amazon jungle, looking for adventure.'

Toucan Father went slightly berserk at this. He had expected his gullible neighbors to believe anything he said, no matter how preposterous.

'He has been to university, I tell you! And graduated with honors! He is now a certified *hedonitrician! A hedonitrician, I say! My son is a hedonitrician!" Toucan Father flapped his wings as he shouted, and Toucan Son hid his beak in his feathers in shame.

No one ever really believed Toucan Father, but he continued to repeat this lie over and over throughout the years. Eventually Toucan Son, desperate to give credence to his father's dishonesty, became a Toucan Thief and stole jewelry and other valuable objects in order to prove that he was indeed as successful and rich as a certified hedonitrician would be. But everybody knew of his misdeeds, and the Toucan family soon became a despised and shunned presence in the Amazon Jungle community.

The moral of the story is, don't let your pride goad you into telling lies, because you will end up hurting those you love most. And nobody will believe you, anyway. The end."

*My brain made this word up

Office Space meets Pod People

2008-09-16T00:52:00.000-07:00

I, um, "awake" to find that it's 10:00 a.m. on a Monday, and that I've slept off my carpool only to wake up with a dream hangover.

"Oh noooooooo," I say, suddenly showered, dressed, and present at work.

My boss Michael — who is normally always very chill — is so angry at me that he relocated my cubicle to a weird, scary, undiscovered corner of the building, complete with blue-glowing alien lights and otherworldly foliage snaking around the office equipment. He informs me of his displeasure in a passive-aggressive fashion, then folds up a large, wood-slatted Oriental fan and throws it into my arms with enough force to sting. Then he walks off, and I stand flabbergasted in my glowing cubicle holding this heavy fan. I sigh and turn on my computer.

Before long I learn that the company is requiring "mandatory immunizations," and we're all supposed to be inoculated by the 14th of September [I started the draft of this post on the 7th]. I'm extremely reluctant to get them, since they seem so shady, and I notice that coworkers who had been skeptical about them immediately become pro-immunization after getting them.

"Oh, they're great! I've never felt better!" is the kind of wide-eyed, manic opinion they try to force on me.

In the break room, the Inoculated use an Energy Restoration Machine instead of eating or playing foosball. They walk into a phone-booth-sized pod, strap in, and the machine recharges them, their bodies convulsing with electricity. Their faces twist into strange, lizard-like jaws temporarily, but once they're out they look refreshed, happy, and high on life.

Before long, Bill -- and this is actually his name in real life -- comes over and sits on my desk in my cubicle, even though he has no say over my tasks in real life. For some reason he perfectly imitates Bill Lumbergh from Office Space:

"Yeah, so . . . I'm gonna need you to mosey on down to Human Resources and get those shots, 'cause frankly, Willie, I'm not quite seeing the Winning Attitude we've been talking about in our meetings." The alien zombie coworkers approach from the adjoining cubicles, forming an impenetrable wall of of opinionless flesh, their faces lining me in with expectant and malicious faces.

Adventures of a Sensible Lad Who is Magic

2008-09-10T09:46:00.000-07:00

So there I was (I love starting any story with that phrase) in this ultra modern space craft. To call it a ship would be an insult to this advanced technology and we were flying and crashed into these woods, which didn't jolt us at all for some reason. I get off with some random friends and we go searching for this school we were flying to. So when we find it, the ground was made of yellow brick and there was a big circular patch of the original yellow brick road that "only the true of intent" could pass over. So I'm thinking wtf does true of intent mean... that could be anything good or evil. Oh well. Anyways, so we walk across it and try to go inside. So there's this old actor there who I think was the lion maybe telling us that if I didn't drop to my knees and have my friend give me a blessing-- we weren't students. I obviously refused and told him to check my student number and he wouldn't so I BLASTED him with a huge ball of magical goodness and flew past. I even got past some random screen door, but when I saw the two old women selling tickets in front of the gym, I knew we were busted. So, we ended up being sent to the principal’s office (which turned out to be Dorothy herself) and got scolded, but I could stay. After being treated like that, however, I had second thoughts. So I went out to some river to go swimming with some girls who I thought were my friends, but they started laughing insanely and tried to strangle me with a scarf. At this point, I realized that they weren't my friends at all. So we floated downstream for a while (I- being strangled and they-laughing) they stopped and swam to the side as I fell down a small waterfall. Lucky for me I hid in a small eroded underwater cave under the fall. Lucky for me, I could now breathe underwater! So they’re trying to reach down and grab me out when I remembered from the vast amount of useless knowledge I know that ants can live up to 14 hours underwater. So, I did what any knowledgeable magical person would-- I turned myself into an ant. This way, I could float downstream safely and not be detected by the psycho sisters. And so I did. Until I thought it was safe. I met this ogre-pig guy who I thought might possibly be trustworthy, but I took precautions. He invited me into his hut/cabin thing and I said ok, but what he didn't know was that I noticed the ring of soot he had laid around his house. I didn't really know what it was for, but I had a bad feeling about it so I drug my right heel across it as I went inside. My intuitions were right and he tried to eat me or capture me or something negative that I would object to. Lucky for me I could blast the crap right out of him with big wispy balls of light. So, when he was unconscious, I laid a bigger circle around his house so he could never leave. He ended up getting so hungry, he ate his house and then withered away as most evil ogre-pig things should. The End.

For the love of Jennifer Garner

2008-09-07T10:58:00.000-07:00

I had this dream a while ago, but I thought I would share.
The beginning is a little difficult to remember, but there were a bunch of us in this huge old farmhouse that had secret passageways and stairways that led to nowhere and hidden lofts and stuff. It was pretty cool. I seem to remember that it belonged to Cindy Wadsworth, and that she was having a bunch of people over for something (like she does). I think that there were puppies around somewhere. Then there was this event outside, and this man had a beautiful white horse that I wanted to ride. He said that he had to put another horse away first (one that I could only see from the front) and then when he turned to horse around to take it away, I noticed that the front half of the horse was normal, but that the back half of this brown horse was the front half of a white llama. Kind of like a Push Me Pull You from Dr. Doolittle. It was very strange.

Then there was this contest going on between (I think) Annie, Liz and I about who would be the first to be able to win Jennifer Garner's love. Annie and Liz couldn't and so it was my turn, but for some reason Dad and Mary wouldn't let me leave the house. During this time I got some sort of message from Mom (it was like a poem, but I don't remember if it was on the phone or written) and I had a strong feeling that Oma had died. I didn't know if it was true or not so I kept crying off and on. It was especially vivid because I remembered (in my dream) that I had had another dream where Oma was sick and in the hospital, so this made sense to me. But I wasn't really sure. I finally got out of the house to find Jennifer Garner and there was someone with me (I think it was Annie, but I can't be sure) and we found her just about to leave in a car with some guy. She walked around the car to throw something away in the trash can on the sidewalk when I stopped her. She was a lot shorter than she is in real life (I assume) and she was wearing khaki knee shorts and a light pink button-up top. She had on sunglasses and her hair was straight and loose and long. I said, "Um, Jennifer?" to get her attention and she turned to me and said, "yes?" Very shyly, I said, "I was wondering, if there was ever the possibility of someday you...you being with me." She looked right into my eyes and said, very seriously, "I would eagerly await that day." I grinned and then asked if I could have a small kiss, and she said yes, and so she gave me the smallest, sweetest, softest little kiss on the mouth and then she drove away. I walked home really happy, but the person who was with me (was it Annie?) was a little miffed that she hadn't won the contest. Then I woke up.

Intimidation

2008-09-01T20:31:00.000-07:00

I dreamt last night that Davey and I were still dating. Davey, Tim, and I think Shanelle and I were staying at my house here in Oregon and of course we ALL slept in my bed. In the morning I gave Davey and hug, got out of bed and wrapped up in a jacket. Davey was becoming disenchanted with our relationship and Tim was helping him to recognize his feelings. I made eye contact with Shanelle and I knew that I could count on her to stick with me and hang out with me. So I ran down the stairs to the kitchen, which was larger than usual. And I saw that my Mom had made this ginormous blackberry crumble with a butter cookie on the bottom. I mean this was probably 6 ft in diameter and 1/2 foot tall. It was already mostly eaten and I nibbled on the cookie. Right before I awoke I remember wondering if Davey was intimidated. Now, I have to admit, that I am almost embarrassed by how nice my home is. I live in a rather large home and we keep it up pretty well. My sister had her "good friend" visit and he was intimidated by the family and all the above. I realized how intimidated I was when I went with Jeff Pringle to Texas and met his family. I enjoy finding a moral to all my dreams and I think this one helped me to realize that I should not be annoyed when things that aren't right don't work out. For instance - and I am going out on a limb talking about things I usually wouldn't -Davey intimidates me. And I feel really awkward around him because I worry what he thinks of me. I think my dream meant that in fact I have equal power in our relationship (that is still struggling even with friendship) and that I shouldn't grudge the fact that he moved on.

What a Wonder is a Gun

2008-08-27T18:57:00.000-07:00

**WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE**

This dream was pretty disturbing in the main conflict of it, but when I woke up, the predominant feeling was one of triumph. My dream was part "Diary of Anne Frank," part "On the Waterfront." The dream itself sounds pretty melodramatic, but I can't think of any other language to describe it in. It was far from comedic at the time.

I was helping some new friends move their stuff from an LDS Church building, where BYU-Idaho's housing office had been letting them stay until their apartment was ready. I don't know who these friends are in real life, although one of them looked a little like a co-worker of mine. Otherwise, they're strangers. We had to move everything...beds, clothes, shelves; all of it had to go into the back of my truck. But Adolf Hitler and a small band of Idaho rebels (their identities and nature remained mysterious to me, I only knew they were there) made it difficult. They were hiding around corners and would shoot at you as you were moving things out of the building. It was like being in the the videogame HALO. It was kind of an accepted thing, and people just tried to make do with the situation, instead of doing anything to stop it.

I helped one friend move, and managed to avoid wounds by using her furniture and suitcases to block the bullets. But in the course of taking the mattress out to the car, this friend's sister was shot. I watched the blood and gray matter pour out of her head next to me. She had been helping me carry the mattress, and when she was shot, she let go of it and it fell against both of us, pinning us underneath. I was trying to get up and run, but my hands were wet with blood all over them, and I couldn't lift the mattress off of my legs. Finally someone came and shoved it off, and I ran, bullets shattering the walls around my ears as I finally reached the door of the church building. I took a shower in my friend's new apartment to get the blood and brains out of my hair while she called their parents and was comforted by her roomates.

I go back to the church building to get the mattress. (The logical thing to do in my dream...none of us even considered any other option.) I'm alone this time, my friends waiting at the door. There's some sort of treaty, that we've allowed the Nazis to occupy the building only if they do not exercise any violence outside of it. The moment you're outside the door, they cannot shoot. Still, I know my friends are taking a big risk in waiting for me.

I find the mattress where we had left it. Because its a dream, there's no blood or anything anywhere, but the body is gone. I remember the smoke I had seen coming from a close-by building and I decide I don't want to think about it. I go to pick up the mattress, and as soon as I have it up, a bullet hits it from the other side. It misses me, but it breaks a wooden beam across the bottom of the box spring in half, and the whole thing sort of collapses on that side. I swear loudly and try to keep it all upright, while at the same time using it as a barricade. Then another bullet comes through and splinters the other bottom beam. All of a sudden, I see the image of my friend, the one whose sister was killed, floating above me, just over the mattress. Its as if she's laying in some invisible upper bunk, and I can just see her head and torso leaning over the side. She says to me "Leave the mattress. You are going to be killed."

I decide to make a run for it. Shoving the mattress over, I start sprinting with all my strength for the door. Its a good 40 feet away, but I go for it anyway. All of a sudden I hear a blast, and pain explodes in my right thigh. I fall to the ground and when I look down, I see blood all over, and I know that I've been shot. But since its the thickest part of my thigh, I decide I can still make it, and get up to run again (apparently I don't have a femoral artery in my dreams). I can hardly stand it, but I run anyway. Then I feel the same pain in my left calf. I fall again. Another gunshot wound. But in that moment, I decide that I will not be a victim of the neo-Nazis. I will avenge the death of my friend's sister by surviving this exit of the building. I get up somehow and continue staggering to the door. My right ankle takes a bullet, and then my left arm. I'm starting to pass out, but I still aim for the door.

Now things are like that climactic scene in "On the Waterfront," when Marlon Brando is staggering to the warehouse after the fight. Except I'm still being fought, and there's no one there to help me. My vision is blurring...I can see the door, but I can't tell if its moving or if I am, and everything around the edges of my vision are fading in and out. I see men in uniforms and handguns come out from behind the corners. They think I'm a goner, but I refuse to fall. They shoot again, this time I can't even tell what they've hit, but I stagger for a moment, and start to crawl towards the door. I reach up to open it, and I'm shot again in the side. By now, I'm counting the bullets as they hit me, and I'm up to six now. I know I won't survive if the number reaches 10. No one can survive 10 bullet wounds, especially not at this range. I can see the reflection of the men behind me in the glass of the door. I push it open, and all of a sudden I'm kicked from behind. I land on the pavement right outside the door, and I'm shot in the elbow. "Seven," I think, and I roll onto my back in pain. I look up and see that its Hitler himself standing over me, a pistol in hand. I turn my body to cough up the blood that's filling my mouth, and even though I'm barely conscious, I try to crawl away. I know my friends are watching, trying to stay hidden. Hitler's breaking the rules, and it makes me angry that they're now in danger.

I've made it about 3 feet away, dragging my body towards the car in the parking lot. I'm about 10 feet away from the edge of the sidewalk, and I can hear Hitler behind me. I know I won't make it, but now I'm simply determined to make it as far as I can...make some sort of point, do all I can to show how unjustified Hitler's actions are. He kicks my hip, and I fall over onto my back. He keeps me in place with his foot-- he's got it resting on my right knee. He aims and at point-blank range, he shoots my left shoulder. "Eight," I think. "I'm going to die." He shifts the gun slightly to aim at my other shoulder. BANG! "Nine. I'm sorry. I didn't make it. He won this time." Hitler kneels down now. I'm barely conscious, but I feel the cold metal of the pistol next to my right temple. I know I'm going to die in the next second, even though the gun is pointed at the ground, so that when it goes off, it will only blow one side of my head off. But I know I won't survive it anyway. I try to focus my vision for one last moment, and gather up the spit and blood and bile in my mouth. I muster all the strength in my body and spit. Hitler's face, looking down on me, my blood all over his face, is the last thing I see before I hear the final bang. My friend starts screaming my name. "Ten," I think. And then everything goes black.

I open my eyes to see my friend leaning over the edge of the upper bunk. (The dream is continuing...) I can't move, and I can feel myself bandaged almost from head to toe. I can only see out of one eye. I try to stammer something, but it hurts too much to talk. My friend smiles down on me. I start to wonder what's going on...if I'm dead, why can't I move? And why do I still hurt? My friend smiles down on me and says "You made it. Ten gunshot wounds, and you survived. The Nazis are gone now. You made it." I black out again.

The next time I open my eyes, I can see out of both of them. (But I'm still dreaming...) I notice that a lot of the bandages are gone...I just have one on my leg and one on my arm, and one side of my head is all wrapped up. I can't believe that I'm alive. My friend tells me that I'd been out for 2 weeks, but they knew I'd make it. I had survived 10 gunshot wounds. They let me "sleep off" most of the healing. I try to get up, and I'm so stiff, its difficult, but it hurts a lot less than I thought it would.

I sit up, and even stand to walk around a little. I know that my life is a miracle. I begin to try to help out in cleaning the room a little bit. The next part of my dream is like right after any severe injury in real life. I'm limited, but I'm kind of enjoying the opportunity to take a little break. And I find that I'm not so limited as might be expected. I enjoy helping out in the little ways I can. I learn that not many people know the details of my story, but they know that the Nazis have ceased their occupation because they broke their treaty. It's exactly how I want it to be. We have a memorial service for my friend's sister, and I feel like I did a great thing...I know there's still so much hate and war and evil in the world, but I know that by surviving, I helped chalk up one for the good side.

Mitch Hedberg on Dreaming

2008-08-26T11:23:00.000-07:00

"I hate dreaming, 'coz when I wanna sleep, I wanna sleep. Dreaming is work, y'know? Like, there I am, lying in my comfortable bed in my hotel room, and it's beautiful -- next thing you know, I have to build a go-kart with my ex-landlord. I want do dream of me watching myself sleep." --Mitch Hedberg, Mitch All Together

Sleepy, dreamy words

2008-08-23T14:47:00.000-07:00

I have this great habit of writing things down in my sleep/half-sleep. Often I'll be dreaming something, or thinking in that barely awake state, and something will sound really poetic to me, so I'll write it down. Of course, when I find it later, its absolutely ridiculous. I've also had some pretty quotable dreams. Mallori has the same things going on, except she often TEXTS in her sleep, which is REALLY neat. Just for fun, I thought I'd record some of those gems here...

DREAM QUOTES:

"Good thing my bangs have gone to gravy. Where ARE the Turks?" --Beckah, in my dream

"You wouldn't mention it if YOU were ground beef." --a ziploc bag, in my dream

"In violence, hope...in hope, amor." --my last words as I died of a gunshot wound in the arms of Al Pacino, in Mal's dream

Guy: Are those your red pants in the window.
Me: No.
Guy: Aren't you the girl from JC Penny?
Me: No.
Guy: Huh.
--in my dream

THINGS WRITTEN/TEXTED IN SLEEP:

"Hit me like you did with some extra big electrical tub." --Me

"I get to be naked with Christian?" --Mallori, text message

"The air was hot. Ants and bees assaulted the windows. There was a stench on the tongue of every anteater that would make any human close their mouth in fear of death." --Me

"Bridges don't give companions sweaters." --Me

This one's pretty elaborate...I was falling asleep at a training meeting for work, so to keep myself awake, I thought I'd take notes. Well, I BARELY stayed awake, and didn't learn a thing from the training meeting, and my notes were PSYCHOTIC.

"If ship to adress is pink, you must verify it by spelling it out fools. Stay awake. I am high with sleepy. Now I'm literally crosseyed with sleepyness. Look I can't spell. No acidity. Wee--I feel like I'm in l alaland, which I am But there's not some small drawf with a moustache that's green. Moo can someone fall asleep while sitting and wrighting fool? I just dreamt something in the 2 seconds I closed my eyes that Paul McCartney saw this and laughed and Jesse joined him. MUST STAY AWAKE. This is so not healthy. My body needs sweep I know screen. Who was jush talking and that's not to I was going to say. Sister King passed away recently. That will make President's day an extra special holiday. Stand up again, Real Slim Shady." --Me

ALSO:
These are a series of messages left for me on my facebook wall a few months ago by my friend Nathan...since they are quotable and dream-related, I feel that they belong here as well.

"you know, this morning I planned on waking up at 7:45 and just putting around my apartment until my 9 oclock class rolled around, but my alarm clock doubles as my cell phone and me, being the polite young man that I am, had it set to vibrate as to not disturb my fellow students. Only I woke up at 12:45 after an AMAZING dream about how I was jesus surfing. I know that sounds sacriligious, but its my subconcious not me so whatever. Anyways so here I am after I missed 3 out of 4 classes today and Im not doing so great. Sometimes it seems like my corn dogs are my only friends."

"ok re-reading my prvious comment, there are some things that require attention/ punctuation. Ok so my dream- I was jesus, surfing on water, not using jesus to surf. Second, I deprived you from the moral of the alarm clock story and that is being polite EFFING sucks because you miss classes for it. So next time you see an elderly man or woman in the store, give them the finger cuz, hey, you cant afford not to. And the corn dog bit being my friends...what kind of friend eats their friends? No, not a single one. Corn dogs are not my friends, but a gateway out of bordom induced by crappy television and rexburg idaho. I just realized its 3:01 and NO im not crazy ok. I just have the internal clock of a chineese adolecent, post mountain dew. Signing off: Nathan."

Ah, the complexities of the sleepy human mind!

Honorable mention goes to the complexities of sleeping when your neck is as long as the rest of your body...

I came across this picture while looking for a few to use in this post, and had to include it somehow. WEIRD.

Stop and Go

2008-08-23T12:30:00.000-07:00

These dreams all happened a couple of nights ago, in the same night, as I kept waking up and falling asleep.

I was with Mary, Dad and Melissa in some sort of parking garage or underground hideout or something. Then someone fainted and I was supposed to drive them to the hospital, but the only car that we had was a stick shift, and since I don't know how to drive stick, I couldn't get the car to start, and so I was just rolling around in neutral. I think that Nelli was around there somewhere, and that the person who fainted was a young man, someone that I'm supposed to know, but I couldn't remember who it was.

The next dream mostly took place at a gas station, where there was lots of cheap crap for sale and there seemed to be a lot of people there. I was in the U.S.S Dorcas, and I was trying to figure out how to stuff my wallet, my CD players, and my CD case into the glove compartment so that it wasn't just sitting on the seat while I went inside. I think I eventually just shoved them under the seat. I went inside and was looking around at all of the cheap trinkets and then spoke to the guy who worked there about something that was going on around the town or something. Then I went back outside to the car and Liz was there, and she was really angry at me for having the car. We started throwing stuff at each other (strangely, I don't remember any yelling) and then we were wrestling. She had me pinned to the ground (as if that would ever happen) and she kept asking me where something was, some sort of wooden decoration thing. It had been in the back seat of the car, but I told her that I had thrown it at her, and so it was lying on the ground around us somewhere. Then I woke up.

I must have fallen back asleep, but I seem to remember walking back to bed from the bathroom and all the lights were on. There was a big vent in my wall that had light shining through it, and I looked and it and thought that I could fit through it, because I did that sort of thing on such a regular basis. Whatever that means. Then, in my dream, I went back to bed.

Then I had the most strange and elaborate dream of the night. I was working at a huge Canadian lodge, as an entertainer and waitress or something. The parts of the lodge I was in the most was upstairs, where there were rooms along the walls, and there was a huge open balcony thing in the middle that looked down onto some sort of ballroom. In the back there were the stairs, and in the front was a huge window that looked down to the lake that the lodge was next to. There was this guy working there, with whom I had had some sort of argument, and I was trying to confront him about it, but he would never acknowledge me. The first time I saw him in the dream, he was driving a sleigh through the hallways with some girl, and I stopped him and told him how cruel it was to force the horses to drag the sleigh across the carpet. I made him and the girl get out, unhitched the horses, and took them away. There was a party going on downstairs and I think the horses were rather smaller than in real life. Then I sent the guy some sort of message to come meet me at a certain time so that we could work this thing out. I went out to the lake (the lodge was just on a beach of dirt going down to the water) and into this weird clear plastic pill capsule thing that was sitting above the lake. It had no visible means of support, but it was a couple of inches above the water and just off shore. It was clear except for the very top, where it was black, and I got in and sat down and I think I sang some sort of song of anger and frustration. I remember thinking that I should look down to see what it was like, but I ended the frustrated song on my hands and knees, looking down into the murky waters of the lake. It wasn't as interesting as I thought it would be. So I got up, and zipped up the capsule like a tent, singing a little soft reprise as I did so. I went back up to the lodge and there was the guy walking toward me, and he had the girl with him. There was also some sort of Mountie or park ranger standing in the background at the corner. I had just enough time to say "what is she doing here?" when I woke up.

Land of Senses

2008-08-23T12:13:00.000-07:00

So I had this dream a long time ago, but I wanted to share it because it was so cool.

I was in a place where you would go to different rooms, and each room was a land that was specific to a certain sense. One for sound, one for smell, one for sight, etc. I was in the land of sight, sitting on the floor and the walls were all white, and there were rice paper windows on the wall opposite me. In the middle of the room there was a women dressed all in white, layers and folds of fabric draped around her in a robe. She was sitting slumped over to the side of a rounded wooden chair and there was a sheer white veil hanging from the ceiling around her. She stood and stepped through the veil and came towards me. Her face was painted white like in Japanese theater. She came to me and said something, and then something angrily, and when she emphasized words she would hold her arms out and her clothing and face would suddenly have more colour, brown and cream and grey. And I just knelt there and then she stopped and leaned down and held my face in her hands and kissed me softly on the mouth.

Then we walked through a hole in the wall, from a white maze-like room into the land of sound, which was like a dark sea port or something, stormy and windy. We walked through a path of wet sand, making gritty, squelchy kind of noises. There was some sort of white noise going on the whole time as we lined up and walked up a creaky ramp to an old wooden tower. We had to ring a bell, and the crows would answer with their croaking caws. Then I woke up.

A "W.I.P. moment"

2008-08-20T10:38:00.000-07:00

I’m in a pool somewhere, that doubles as a form of public transportation. It’s hooked to a truck that pulls it, but when we move it feels and behaves like we’re in a boat. A boat that happens to be filled with water. There are seats all along the edges, like in a hot tub. I don’t remember why I’m going somewhere in this pool-bus, but I’m surrounded by a lot of other people that I don’t know. A lot of them are the “popular kids.” I befriend this cute guy, who’s not a “popular kid.” I know he’s a midget, even though in my dream he’s just a few inches shorter than me. He makes a living doing impressions and ventriloquism. During the day, he plays Johnny English and a few other characters in Oakland’s “Fairyland.” Which I tease him about, because he’s gay, even though no one really knows or suspects that about him…he strikes people as being quite the ladies man, probably because of one of his hobbies, which is this: he loves half-way seducing women. He says he doesn’t even have to work very hard…most women are strangely attracted to the idea of an encounter with a midget. So he allows them to think he’s seducing them, and then after making out with them for a while, he tells them he’s gay! Surprise! He considers it a practical joke of sorts. No one really outs him because they’re embarrassed, and some women even go so far as to assume it’s his way of running away from commitment.

We’re sitting and talking about all this in hushed tones as we travel in the pool-bus. I ask him if kissing all these girls ever does anything for him, and he says the only pleasure he gets from it is knowing he’s playing such a great practical joke. I tell him I haven’t been kissed in simply AGES, and hinting-ly suggest I’d even be willing to make out with someone in the name of science. (Apparently, I’m a brazen hussy in my dreams.) He teases me back and says he gets all the kissing he wants.

During all this, I’ve been noticing that this blonde in a bikini has been eyeing my midget friend. He looks over at her and winks at me, then moves over to talk to her. I roll my eyes, but laugh, because somehow I really love how he plays this same practical joke on so many people. Especially since the people he plays the joke on are “the popular kids.” Scars from middle school, I guess.

The dream switches for a while to something completely different…I’m at my old house in Medford, which on the inside is my grandparent’s house in Fremont. I don’t remember as much of this part of the dream, but I know there was something about these scary wolf-bears in the neighborhood, and a Native American man from down the street coming to warn us, and then all of a sudden, it was complete chaos in our driveway, and I was trying to help all of our neighbors with everything from finding a blanket to signing autographs to solving math problems to making sandwiches. And I’m distracted the whole time because A) My sisters all have to leave to catch the school bus soon (even though its nighttime) and I’m leaving town today and need to say good bye to them, and B) I’m not sure who’s watching my son, and I know he gets moody and upset around this time of night because its his bedtime and he probably wants me. He’s the same little boy I’ve had dreams about before, but in past dreams, he’s been the baby, who I call my “bambino.” In this dream, he’s just turned four, and he’s still got this Italian look, with olive skin, dark dark hair and green eyes. I finally find him, wrapped in his comfort blanket, playing with the dogs in the backyard by himself. As soon as he sees me, he clings to me and won’t let go. So I try to keep doing all these things I’m trying to do, but with my 4-year-old son wrapped around me. Which is difficult, but I don’t mind, because its part of being a mother.

Then, I remember my gay midget friend, which I realize is actually from an alternate life in another dimension, and I decide I want to find out what happened and live that life for a little while. I leave my son in the care of my sister, even though I’m mad at her for going to a dance class with my grandma and not telling me about it, and I go to find out what happened with the blonde. When I get to his penthouse, he and the blonde are still in their bathing suits, sitting and talking on the couch, and I can tell that her IQ is about equal with the couch’s. I can tell he’s laughing at her, but she doesn’t know it, which is even funnier, in a cruel sort of a way. I ask about someplace to rinse the chlorine out of my hair, and he says there’s a shower-head in the foyer. He says he and the blonde should probably rinse the chlorine out of their hair too. (Okay, so this next part sounds kinda dirty, but in my dream, it really wasn’t. At least it didn’t feel that way…you know how dreams can be.) So the three of us are all rinsing off in the foyer, in our bathing suits, and all of a sudden she’s ALL OVER HIM. I stand there for a minute like “Hey, wow, I’m still right here.” My midget friend is actually looking at me over her shoulder and laughing and winking. I stand and wait for her to realize that I’m there, but in “popular kid” fashion, she ignores me. Finally, I say “I’m just going to take a seat. Got any popcorn?”

Then I realize what a ridiculous situation I’m in. Sometimes that happens in real life, when you’re just kind of living in the moment and then all of a sudden you wonder how you got to be in such an absurd situation. I think to myself “I’m in the apartment of a gay midget impressionist/ventriloquist, watching him make out with a blonde bombshell. How the heck did I get into this?” I stand up and say “This is what my friend Shaun and I call a ‘W.I.P. moment.’ That stands for ‘How Did I Get Into This Absurd Situation?’” And then I wake up.

New Olympic Event

2008-08-18T17:16:00.000-07:00

So most of this dream is pretty pointless so I'll skip to the important part:
I was in a hotel room watching the Olympics with my friends Dustin and Chris. The even was taking place on a glacier. Trying to show my immense knowledge of geology to the boys I pointed out that the contestants were sledding down medial moraines (where 2 glaciers join together and all their rocks pile up in the middle of them). They were suitably impressed, but only until we realized what these sledders were doing that qualified their sport to be Olympic worthy: they were eating while sledding. The first contestant was eating chips and salsa, the second; a huge sausage, and the third; a Lunchable. We were most impressed with the sausage, I sure hope he won.

WERK DREEMZ

2008-08-18T08:10:00.000-07:00

I dream about work. I think everybody does, and it's terrible. And there's no money in it.

I dreamt that my roommate/coworker/buddy Bryan and I were IMing at work, and that's 100% true-to-life. He was giving me flak for my performance on moderating our online guitar reviews, and I was getting flustered and defending myself via instant messenger even though he sits six feet away from me in a direct line of sight. That's yet to happen in real life (the flak part, not the cubicle location part).

When I worked for the TV station, I would have terrible, teeth-gnashing, super-stressful dreams. I think I owed a lot of that to the stressful nature of the job: one hour of calm, then thirty minutes of chaos, deadlines, and shouting, and then a live broadcast (usually with more chaos and shouting). The TelePrompTer dreams were the worst. The words on the screen would melt, blend, or turn to gibberish, or the anchor's voice would sound like a slowed-down tape recording.

And here's the thing: the anchors would have the same awful dreams, except they'd be doing a live broadcast and the TelePrompTer would start speeding up faster and faster.

Ugh, these dreams are insufferable. They should be outlawed, or at least there should be a pill I can take to keep my dreams from becoming stressful, unpaid drudgery. SIGN ME UP, DOC. I want to dream about margaritas on a California beach.

A zebra, a shopping cart, Walgreens, and melons

2008-08-17T21:42:00.000-07:00

So I'm in a cage in the middle of this desert which looks like something straight out of an old crappy Hanna-Barbera cartoon. It's a strange situation because (aside from the obvious) the cage both imprisons and protects me. In other words, my captors are always trying to infiltrate my cage (which apparently effectively doubles as a mosquito net) with mosquitos, which look like ordinary mosquitos but here in Badly-Drawn-Wilderness Land are terrifying in their ability to breed and infest and consume everything in their path. Like, they are VERY scary.

Anyway, one day a nice talking Zebra joins me in my cage. He's not exactly a cartoon, but his proportions are a little more stylized and his colors brighter than a real zebra's would be. We become good friends, and then a few days later my captors throw some melons in the cage. Yum! Well, the Zebra starts to warn me but I chop one open before he can stop me and out buzzes A MOSQUITO! I totally panic, in that awful internal frozen sort of way, but the Zebra says he thinks those kind of melons only carry one mosquito anyway, and not even these Killer Mosquitos can breed asexually. I fly into a rage and, powered by the strength of my own awesome wrath I am able to escape.

Next scene I'm in Rexburg, the landscape of which is also sort of exaggerated and surreal without quite being cartoony. Anyway, I'm about six months pregnant but in rocking shape otherwise, and I'm pushing a shopping cart out of the parking lot of a grocery store which has inexplicably sprung up across the intersection from Walgreens. The slope of that street is crazy-steep in this dream, and the traffic is insane. When I finally make it across the intersection and into the Walgreens I discover the building is now basically just a fantastic Escheresque labyrinth of hallways and revolving doors and stairs and windchambers, all with that very clean, clinical Walgreens ambience.

I've lost the shopping cart by now (even though earlier it was this Big Huge Mission of mine to steal it) and am sneaking around with awesome pregnant prowess through this nonsensical building, when the thing I've been dreading the entire dream happens... THEY find me! No, I have no idea who THEY are. But there is machine-gun fire and shouting and a swarm of people in black SWAT team type gear and the clashing of steel on steel, and suddenly my unborn child is born and about five years old and standing in the line of fire, crying, so I grab her and charge through the chaos and escape with a big gash on my belly, and somehow the five-year-old version of the child disappears, but that's fine... it's almost as if she appeared in her future form in order to give me the motivation and the adrenaline to save myself, and, by extension, her unborn, present self.

My only reaction to my injury is "Sweet! Finally I get to be a hero with a cool, gory injury. I totally rock." And with that, I drag myself off to our Greenbriar apartment where I know Sarah Jagger (former roommate and nursey-type) will tend to me.

The Effects of a Time Warp on a Fatigued Brain

2008-08-16T14:11:00.001-07:00

I call my room in Oregon "the Time Warp" because when I pull my blinds down it gets pitch black. And my bed it the most comfortable thing in the world. And I find that when I sleep in a time warp I have really weird dreams. For instance, a couple of nights ago I woke up multiple times and my body was really tense. I was dreaming about escaping from the mob. Of course there were multiple levels to the adventures I undertook, but I will not go into detail. Last night dreamt that I was working at the Playmill. Roger had lost a lot of weight to the point where he was scrawny. He actually resembled my ex that I had seen yesterday. The cast and i were sitting onstage and I was leaning against a friend from high school named Marty. The first time I met Beckah I thought if Beckah was gothic she would highly reminded me of Marty. Roger was doing some sort of stand up comedy and kept looking back at the cast. When ever we made eye contact he would smile as if he were saying "I'm so glad I cast you". (...oh man, if only, right?) Later that night i had a totally separate dream were I was married to a woman. It was an arranged marriage and I think it was even sanctioned by the church. I guess the world was in a difficult spot because we lived with another couple (this a heterosexual one) and we shared my bed at home (it the Time Warp Room). The last thing I remember is dreaming that i had woken up and realized that I had missed my friend's homecoming. Then I really woke up and realized it was Saturday. So all in all, thanks to the Time Warp and the lack of using my alarm clock, I had quite the adventure in the past week.

The Prison Diaries: Inside the Idaho State Penitentiary

2008-08-15T09:37:00.000-07:00

I’ve been arrested for driving without proof of a license. I’ve got to go to jail because it’s the second time I’ve done it. These two cops have me gather my belongings in a backpack and tell me to go to the courthouse before a certain date. I drive down there in my old Cutlass Ciera and sit in the parking lot for a moment, talking to my dad on the cell phone. I don’t want to tell him where I am or why, so after a while I don’t say anything at all, and eventually hang up without an explanation. I leave the keys in the car while I go to “check in.” Security seems pretty lax for a prison. I’m actually going to be staying in the women’s correctional facility, which scares the hell out of me, but from the looks of things, the atmosphere is more like a dentist’s office than a jail. I go to the reception desk and the two ladies there help me fill out my paperwork. I’ve got a lot of questions for them, since I’ve never spent any time in prison for. They answer my questions, but I can tell they’re getting a little impatient with me, since these are things I should apparently already know. I’m a little unclear as to when my sentence actually starts…when I actually enter a cell and stay there. They say no one’s available to show me to my cell for another 3 hours, so I wait around and chat with other prisoners coming to check in. Finally someone shows me to my room. Not my cell, my room. There are two beds, three bathrooms, several closets, and carpet and furnishings. My cell-mate isn’t there yet, so I feel uncomfortable “moving in” until I know which spaces are hers and how much re-arranging I can do. I explore the place a little bit, while my sister and a few friends wait in the cell with me for my prison-mate to arrive again. The room is really messy…lots of clothes in the closet, lots of stuffed animals lying around, and tons of knick-knacks. Somehow I know that they’re not all hers, but things that have been left behind by generations of prisoners. I decided I’d like to take the “downstairs bathroom” for my own, which isn’t really downstairs, but is down a few steps into a separate bedroom, with a bathroom off to the side. It’s a small space, but there’s a nice vanity and shelves, with Betty Boop collector items and jewelry all over them.

I go back into the room, and there are more people there…some of them I know, some of them friends of the people I know, and some of them I don’t know at all. I start to think that this prison stint won’t be so bad, but I’m really ashamed to be there, and worry about what everyone else will think when they find out that Liz is in the state pen.

Finally my cell-mate comes back from the library, where we was checking out an armful of great classic books. I notice for the first time the dance posters on the walls near her bed, and I find out that she’s a dancer. She’s short, and not terribly pretty, wears no make-up and slightly out-of-date clothes. She seems a little immature for her age, but a nice girl. I had been told that she was in jail for killing her cousin William. I’m still a little unsure about how we’ll get along, but a lot of my fears subside when I actually meet her.

I sit down on the bed and think about all of the other things I could have Beckah bring me from home…I hadn’t realized I would have this much room for my belongings, or that I would be allowed to bring all of them. I ask a guard if I can use my cell phone, and he says I just have to ask permission first by pressing a button by my door, but no one’s there right now, so I have to wait a few hours. I think again about how this place is nice but doesn’t seem very well organized. Well-funded and well-staffed, but lazy.

I sit down on the bed among all the people who are still there…it’s like this party or something. I realize that this place isn’t so bad at all. A nice room, no rent, free meals, and no responsibilities all day. There’s a library and a yard for recess. I worry for a moment about whether I’ll be required to play sports and if I’ll be beaten up or stabbed when the other prisoners find out I’m really bad at them. I decide I’ll choose to dance instead of play sports. I worry that I might go crazy being in this building all day, but I realize I can have my computer and my phone and a lot of my stuff. It’s not so different from just any old apartment, except you don’t have to go anywhere or do anything, one wall is made of glass, and you’ll get electrocuted if you try to open the glass doors. I decide that it might be hard sometimes, and I’m still pretty ashamed, but since its not a felony I won’t have to put my jail-time on any job applications, so I can make this arrangement work for me.

But then I realize that I have no idea how long I’m supposed to be staying here, and I can’t find anyone who will look at my records and find out or tell me. I look back at all the people in my room and realize that I don’t know ANY of them, and wish they would leave because I didn’t feel like hanging out with strangers on my first night of who knows how many in the state penitentiary. I have the feeling that if I could get out of my room, I could easily leave, but I don’t want to add time to my unknown sentence, or additional shame to my reputation. So I sit crowded into a corner of what’s supposed to be MY room, waiting for people to leave so that I can unpack and get organized. I’m still waiting when I wake up.

I'm still half-asleep and can't think of a good title...

2008-08-15T04:27:00.000-07:00

It all started with me loading the dishwasher at my mom's house. I was very cheerful as I did this because my mom's house was apparently the headquarters for some type of Resistance. Eddie Izzard, Executive Transvestite Comedian Genius Extraordinaire (pictured above in the second photo because I couldn't figure out how to get them down in the body of the texts like you showoffs *thbbttbbbtthbbt*), was also part of said Resistance, and it just so happened that it would be his turn to unload the dishwasher I was presently loading. This made me happy because it meant I could leave little things under the cups in the dishwasher with which to surprise and cheer him, seeing as he had been feeling a bit down lately and discouraged as to the Resistance's chances of ultimate success.

So I left a little green dragon made out of some sort of water-proof plasticine clay, along with a little snake winding his way through the crockery, and this really cool metal vine I found; it was about as big as an earbud cord, dark green with little flowers which looked absolutely real, until you looked at it really closely and saw that they were actually painted on, masterfully. Surely, I thought, these gifts could hardly fail to brighten Eddie's day (their placement was, for some reason I don't understand now, highly humorous; I had spent a long time arranging them for maximum comedic impact, and felt sure Eddie of all people would understand and appreciate this).

Well, some sort of Resistance disaster occurred next, in which we were all afraid our cover would be blown, and amid the fracas that ensued I overheard Eddie telling Allison how hilarious and thoughtful his good friend Stephen Fry (first picture; I guess he's a part of the Resistance too) was for leaving him such cunningly-arranged little toys in the dishwasher. Needless to say, I was most disappointed. Indeed I was so heartbroken that it forced me, amid the chaos of trying to preserve our crumbling Resistance, to reexamine my feelings for Eddie and discover that, instead of feeling a brotherly, comrade-like regard for him, I was, in fact, deeply in love with him.

Next scene took place in a horrible wood-paneled office of some sort where I was visiting Rachel Warren (old roommate) and her irascible old curly-haired boss. We were all just chilling together when an Officer of the forces against which the Resistance fought entered. She slapped the dishwasher toys down on the desk with an air of triumph and demanded if any of us knew anything about it. By this time, the dishwasher toys had morphed into a little soldier action figure I had made myself, with a plastic bag for a parachute and a zip-line threaded with this weird, thick, glittery striped needle, which was contraband. The use of the needle was the crime this Officer was investigating. Incidentally, this Officer was the mirror-image of Rachel's old-lady boss, which was weird. Anyway, being a seasoned Resistance fighter, I kept my cool, and Rachel distracted the Officer by insulting her marvelously. The Officer wrote her up a "warning" and left in a huff.

After that, things sort of deteriorated. Eddie became capable of turning himself into an elk, and was running about the forest and grazing in a meadow, and then he was grazing on a school football field because he was sort of a pansy elk who only liked hanging out on nice flat manicured grass. He got in trouble with the local people (who dwelled like aboriginals in my old Girl's Camp campgrounds) for impersonating Diana the Goddess of Hunting (a capital offense in their culture) and while he was trying to talk his way out of this I woke up. The end.

On earth-moving newscasts

2008-08-14T08:02:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting on a couch in a dingy room styled in a '70s decor. Next to me sits a girl who's wearing one of those "scramble suits" from A Scanner Darkly, a movie I fell asleep watching and won't try to watch again (I like Philip K. Dick, though, so I might try the book). The suit constantly shifts and blends her appearance with pregenerated people. Eventually her suit settles on a horsey-looking girl with oversized eyeballs. I don't recognize her. We're watching TV.

The TV screen fills up the rest of the dream, like I'm sitting really close to it.

There's a breaking local newscast. A car dealership is having some sort of parade/demonstration on the highway. Hundreds of yellow Hummers and SUVs stand parked all over the highway and its shoulders. Saboteurs, however, have attacked the stationary caravan -- they're like the ELF. Hundreds of cars in every make and model converge on the SUVs, smashing into them at high speed. Before long, even the shiny new vehicles spring to life and do battle with the intruders, and the news chopper's aerial shot shows the highway as a dusty, smoky, high-speed bumper car match. Whether anybody's in the cars is unknown, but there are people responsible and people retaliating.

The manager of the SUV dealership, a stereotypically angry, obese businessman, stands watching the chaos from a grassy knoll in the middle of his car lot. He's yelling, tearing at his hair: first in rage, then extreme sorrow. He keels backward slowly, landing spread-eagle and exasperated as the news chopper's aerial camera shot, somehow in Extreme Close-Up, slowly zooms out, spinning idly clockwise.

As the shot spirals up and away, the knoll beneath him begins changing, spreading out from where he lies. The grass begins landscaping itself, as though made with stop-motion animation, into a hill that's half crop circle, half Zen garden, with sand seeming to bubble up from the ground.

And then suddenly it's not a news broadcast anymore; now some sort of disembodied voice -- like that of a shadowy crime boss who never shows his face -- begins talking over the video, saying something to the effect of, "It's time to move the earth, Bob. Lord knows you've had enough practice."

The screen begins cycling through still images of Bob lying sprawled on stretches of intricately designed landscapes, a loud click of an old-fashioned slide projector punctuating each one.

Image from A Scanner Darkly ganked from Boing Boing via Google image search.

The first dream recorded...for those about to believe in a thing called love, we salute you!

2008-08-13T13:13:00.000-07:00

One fateful Monday afternoon (namely May 26th, 2008), I was attempting to recover from a severe lack of sleep. So I set aside my to-do list, and laid down to take a nap. During this nap, I had a dream. Nay, nay, a vision. Here I attempt to record the awesomeness of said vision, although I assure you all that mere words can hardly do justice to the sheer magnitude of greatness that this dream truly was.

Perhaps it was inspired by the fact that I'd been watching CHEESY music videos lately. But I dreamt that I, with a select few friends, was a part of a TUBULAR music video. As I attempt to chronicle this dream, I sure hope I remember everything, because its already fading, but I'll do the best I can to be both true to the dream and also tell it so that it makes sense.

In my dream, I was sitting in "The Seduction Room" with my friends Carrie and Nathan. "The Seduction Room" is a real place-- its what Carrie's living room is called. So we were sitting in the living room, with the lights low, listening to classic rock and discussing what category of rock each of the songs went into...glam, punk, etc. We were just beginning to discuss the British glam rock band, The Darkness, when a knock comes on the door. We yell "Come in!" and into the room walks Justin Hawkins, the above-mentioned band's lead singer.

He's dressed in one of the glittery jumpsuits he's famous for, and is as greasy and ridiculously smarmy to us in real life as he is in his band. But we invited him in, and we all chat it up for a while. Then he told us he had come because we had been chosen by the "Gods of the Destiny of Rock" or something equally silly/awesome. We had been selected by the fates to be the starring performers in an historical music video...a music video that would bring together some of the greatest names in classic rock history. Which in reality was only two names in rock history, specifically Justin Hawkins and Brian Johnson.

Yes, the lead singers of The Darkness and AC/DC were bringing their bands together for one historical medley of "I Believe in A Thing Called Love" and "Back In Black." I don't have any recollection of how that musically worked. All I remember is that is was life-alteringly, mind-blowingly, ozone-layer-shatteringly AWESOME. We got on set, which consisted of several locations in one studio, namely a spaceship, Scotland, and that white room from Willy Wonka's chocolate factory...the one with the TV thing. Milli Vanilli came and coached Carrie and Nathan and I on how to lip sync, which doesn't make sense now that I think about it, because Brian's and Justin's were the only voices being used, but apparently we were supposed to look like we were singing with their voices too.

I most vividly remember filming the part of the music video that took place in the white room. The only ones in the shot were Nathan and Carrie and I, and we were all dressed in black with white belts and shoes. We were wearing sunglasses, and Nathan was standing in the middle and singing seductively to the camera, while Carrie and I danced very seriously and unsmilingly on either side of him. There was also this part where we were fighting off something--I don't remember what--with the lightning that came from our instruments, reminiscent of the "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" music video.

I don't remember much more of the music video, except for thinking it was way cool to share the stage with both AC/DC and The Darkness. Just giving you the facts simply can't communicate the feeling of adrenaline and power that came with this event in my dream life. I wish there was some way for Nathan and Carrie to have experienced it with me, because they were there. I guess this blog will have to be enough. Nathan and Carrie, you were part of a great thing that afternoon, and I'm sorry you could only experience it vicariously. Because it ROCKED.