Posts Tagged ‘dreams’

Back to School Time

January 31, 2009

And I am glad to be back in school. Yeah, it’s nice to be a lump on the couch for winter break, but if I don’t do anything during the day, then I can’t sleep at night, then I don’t have the energy to do anything the next day, and it is a vicious cycle that is really hard to break. Plus I drive about 40 minutes to get to school, so it’s not like all my friends are nearby.

Anyway.

I love all my classes. Last semester I had a crazy that didn’t know what in the world he was talking about, and it made me really stress. I would be driving home with my jaw clenched, and it would give me a headache. Now, I leave class, and I am smiling. I just want to hop down the stairs like a little kid.

It probably also helps that I’m not taking English (all done for my GE), nor am I taking all ASL classes. I have one ASL class, and I think it is going to be really good.

My other classes are Archaeology (online), Psychology, and Oceanography. I forgot how much I love science. I read the first chapter of my Oceanography book, and remembered. None of the classes are the “standard” classes that I am used to taking. It’s great!

I am so glad to be back in school. I am really shy. I don’t go “clubbing”, I don’t go to parties. A good time for me is watching Monty Python or old horror movies (Abbot and Costello meet the Mummy, anyone?) and knitting. Therefore, I have a really hard time meeting new people. So, at least in school I have access to people.

My best friend is in Germany right now. It really doesn’t make that much of a difference to me, because normally she would be away at college, and I wouldn’t be able to meet up with her anyway.

So yeah. No majorly interesting dreams lately. No, I tell a lie. I did have a very strange one while we were at our cabin.

I was walking through some sort of home improvement store, I think it was Home Depot. Walking, walking, and suddenly I see this guy that was either lynched or commited suicide. His body was hanging from a noose off of one of the high shelves. His body was. His head was on the ground, and was rather green. Because if the rope is too long for the weight of the body, it can pop the head off.

And there was something about roving, too. Just the little bits, like for needle felting. How that is connected to some guy that lost his head in the noose, I have no idea.

So, just thought I’d post SOMEthing, at least. Ta-ta!

Advertisements

Hello again

January 15, 2009

Yes, I have not posted since last year, huh? Oh well. Not like anybody reads this thing anyway. 😀 I don’t care, though. Whatever. It’s all good

You know those dreams where you wake up and question your sanity? Yeah, had another one of those last night. And I hate that I can only remember little bits and fragments of a dream. I wan the whole thing, dang it. They prove my insanity.

Anyway.

I was playing cards with some of the guys from Hogan’s Heros, (and a bunch of nameless, faceless extras) and we were in the “living room” area, by the TV, which changes into my room at night. It was some form of Go Fish, but with regular cards. Multiple packs, because I asked somebody for the 10 of *mumblemumble*, which was what I was holding.

Yes, it was fantabulous. But I can’t understand why I would play cards with them, because I was sitting right next to Newkirk. You can’t win against him. If he doesn’t cheat, he beats you outright with skill.

I’ve stopped questioning my sanity, really. I know I’m a bit off, but that’s okay, it makes things a bit more interesting. My grandpa is utterly normal, and it’s a wonder my dad turned out as well as he did.

So yeah, I am on a Hogan’s Heroes jag right now, and along with most of my jags comes an object of affection. That object is Newkirk. You know how some people have posters of boy bands, oh my walls are plastered with pictures of Orlando Bloom/Johnny Depp/Brad Pitt/ Justin Timberlake/insert famous male pretty boy here. I’m not like that.

I latch onto one thing, one time period, one… book, movie, show, anything. Before this, it was Victorian. I’ve done Lord of The Rings, Forgotten Realms (R. A. Salvatore, fantasy, magic, whatever), Pirates of The Caribbean, and now Nazi Germany/Hogan’s Heroes type, stuff. I know I’ll burn out on it after a while, but that’s okay, I get a new one pretty quick.

With these jags, I write stories. That is how I deal with stress, and how I can get to sleep at night without worrying excessivly about something I have no control over, or school, finals, whatever. I write stories in my head as I fall asleep. Sometimes it’s original fiction, sometimes fanfiction, depending on the genre. If it is open and vague, like ‘Victorian’, then it will be, generally, original fiction. If it is more specific, like my current Nazi Germany/Hogan’s Heroes one, it is usually fanfiction.

Of course, the story I am currently working on started out as original fiction, but had taken a not-so-subtle turn to fanfiction. It involves travel through time and space through the use of old military jackets, and the ensuing oddities created therein. It started when I saw people selling military jackets at antique shows, and I thought “Wouldn’t it be cool if when you put on a jacket, it took you to the time and place it was used?” The only one that really got written out at all was a Nazi German one, which sort of squiks me out a bit, just because the Nazi’s were sort of, well… misanthropic bastards. But, it’s okay, the Nazi that is connected with the jacket (SS or Gestapo, I’m not sure yet) gets sent to the Russian Front or Poland and gets his legs blown off by a grenade tossed into his car and dies. 😀 So, that’s fun.

But I have noticed that my main characters (female generally, I’m female, and that’s what I know) have a tendency to have something really dark about them. This character, when she puts on a jacket, tends to be some sort of war nurse. So, she has seen a lot of grisly, bloody deaths, including WWII and Vietnam. Vietnam as a field nurse, I believe. So she gets all these nightmares, but only when she has the proverbial/actual jacket on. When she’s in Now, she’s fine, it’s like she has watched a bunch of movies, but when she’s in Then, she is a total screw up. Major issues, as you can imagine, because she has seen several wars, and was part of them.

That brings me back to my own sanity. I didn’t have a difficult childhood. I have never been abused. I have not seen someone die, nor have I experienced anything traumatic in my lifetime. My life is boring, and I am grateful of it. Like the curse I got from Discworld, “May you live in interesting times!” ‘Interesting’ usually means war, or something bad. I’ll take boring, thank you very much.

But that still brings into question why my characters are so screwed up. One of them is/was in an abusive relationship, and has ‘Battered Woman’s Syndrome’, or whatever it’s called. She gets beat and hurt, but loves her husband anyway. This one now essentially has PTSD, but in a twisted, warped-to-suit-my-own-needs kind of way. One looses her best friend and possible love intrest (he was shot, as was she, but she lived), and looses her religion, in a very pissed off way. Another’s parents are killed in a car accident, and then (LOST fanfiction bit here) is in a plane crash. Major stress causes her to loose her hearing temporarily, so the entire time she is on the island she is signing. One is a were-vampire. That one is a sort of urban fantasy thing. Mom was a vampire, dad is a werewolf. Mom was staked by dad, because she was a Bad vampire.

Most of my characters have lost parents, or been through some traumatic event, or something. And I have no explanation.

Dre-eee-am…

August 8, 2008

dream dream dree-am.

So, another weird dream.

My friend and I are at my family’s cabin, watching a movie. I walk over to the sliding glass door, my dog (~20 lb. mini schnauzer) is sleeping on his side outside, totally conked out. An army guy is nearby, they are testing bombs, they looked kind of like torpedos, about the size of a football. The guy is sort of loitering, because he is going to be setting one off, but the dog is too close. (note, we do actually have 30 acres of land at our cabin, it’s just trees and weeds, really. And hills.)

“Oh here, let me move him for ya.” Picked up the dog, and moved him inside. They set it off, shoots up like a model rocket, and comes back down not too far away. Then my friend and I  go run outside, because they are going to be setting off more, and hey! Explosions are cool! So we run out towards the north fence (yes, I know the directions up there).

This next bit gets a little confused, I don’t really understand it, and you never really remember dreams very well.

Apparently, this family of four got hit by a train. Not, *honk honk, get off the tracks!* hit, but oop, the train tipped over and they got trapped under it. But they were in the middle of nowhere, in the snow, and they were on the only set of tracks. Yeah I don’t get it. They had to walk for forever to get here.

I’m not sure if this guy was in the “accident” or not. But Sky shows up. My friend and I are standing next to each other, either against trees or a wall that inexplicably showed up in the middle of our property. The name I think came from the movie Mamma Mia!, which I saw with my mom and some of her co-workers. However, it was not him. It was a guy that I graduated high school with, named Skylar. I kinda knew him, mostly just knew of him, that he existed. I think I had a class with him. I don’t even think I ever directly talked to him.

He was being all friendly, and kissed my friend lightly. Then he came over to me. He kind of picked me up, or pushed me against the wall-tree, and started making out with me. 0.<

You know in movies, when they show a couple making out, and you just start thinking “Jeez, come up for air, will ya?”? But before that you have the overwhelming urge st start making noises like *slurp**smack**urp**snort**slurp*?

*crickets*

Okay so maybe that’s just me. It was that sort of making out. Lip biting, sucking face, make out.

*blinks*

Later, at some point, we climbed onto a low tree branch or something, and he had his arm around my waist.

And of course, since it was a dream, I was thinking “Oh, of course Sky is playing tonsil-hockey with me. Makes perfect sense.” Not to mention that before that the place was crawling with the army, setting off missles the size of footballs. Perfectly normal, status quo. And there was apparently a rogue train attacking people by falling over on them. But that’s all perfectly normal.

Moving on…

I saw Mamma Mia! recently. It was really fun. Total chick flick, but it is middle-aged women having fun, not teen-twenties having fun. Which is why my mom and her co-workers liked it. I was the youngest by about 15 or so years. Besides that woman, I think everybody there could have been my mother, or possibly grandmother. It was a blast.

Why is it that nobody seems to like Pierce Brosnan’s singing? I thought it was fine. Actually I kind of liked it. Made everybody else cringe. I don’t get it.

All in all, highly recomended, unless you are a guy, because it is a musical chick flick. My dad and most of the other women’s husbands pretty much flat out refused to go. My boss took her husband and saw it on Broadway, and said he did like it.

Yeah, I don’t get it either. Whatever. We will be getting the DVD when it comes out, and have contemplated the soundtrack.

No pictures for you!

I have a strange subconscious…

June 29, 2008

No, really. I think she is violent, or something. I have had a couple strange dreams, lately.

So, first:

I was near a lake, and it was both flooded and the trees around it were on fire. I was with my parents, I think, or some adults, I can’t remember. Then, a guy named Chris (I think) came over, he had on a straw cowboy hat, and we left, and went into these tunnel things. That part is a bit blurry now. Eventually, we got into this subway-BART-underground thing, but the trains, while pointing (making up the directions for ease of reading) East-West, took you North-South, and up the side of the mountain. You pushed a button, like in an elevator, and you choose In or Out. By this time, there was a bunch of people, like in any subway or whatever. There was some creepy, sleazy guy that pushed the wrong button, or he got pushed in, and when everybody got to the other side, he had been killed or something. Then, one of the trains got pulled back, like it was caught on something. Under the train, on the tracks, were two bodies. One was a woman (who was not pregnant, that was just a detail that came to me in the dream), and the other was Barry Zito, the Giants Starting pitcher, and he was in the “flashback” uniform, with the bright orange jersey. The woman was missing her head, and down to her waist was just… not really mauled, but there was no skin, and you could see her guts and intestines, like in a medical textbook. Barry was missing his head, and down to his shoulders was torn and bloody.

Now, the flooding (from the midwest) and the fires (CA is burning right now) I can understand. Even the guy in the cowboy hat, it was the gardener from Living With Ed, that was on that evening. But the gruesome bodies? Where did THAT come from?

Second dream, I don’t remember much of this one:

I was being held against my will, not quite a hostage, but by a “bad guy” in front of other people type thing. It was at some sort of school, I’m not sure. He had a dagger in one hand, and a gun in the other. The dagger was being held against my right cheek, the gun against my left. The odd thing about the gun, though, was the tip was like a very large hypodermic needle. I think it was an acid gun (which would make a good sci-fi weapon), and I felt it pierce my skin, and sort of pop in. I was crying. It was pretty creepy. Then, I was let go (can’t remember why), and went into a bathroom with a mirror and sink. I had a “bubble” of blood on my left cheek (it had too much surface tension, and it hadn’t bled enough to drip), and my right cheek was smeared with blood and tears. I was still crying a bit. There was a guy in there, and he asked something about “Didn’t he see that?” refering to my right cheek. I can’t remember.

Then there was something to do with pirates, or a play with pirates, or something. I’m not exactly sure. When that was done, there were other people around, and we all went down the hill (my college is on the side of a hill). I got separated, or people went to their cars, or something, and I was walking near a statue. I think it was David, but he had a leaf or something over his naughty bits. Well, he came alive, and came after me. I ran, and I knew if I got to that pedastal right over there, I could get away. I was on the ground, and dragging myself away from him. Because clearly, he was going to rape/molest/do unkind things to me, no matter what he was saying, nor how sorry his face looked. Well, he touched the pedesdal, and froze, just like I had hoped, and a guy came over the lawn towards me. It was the guy I had a crush on in 7th grade. Bizzare, haven’t seen him in over a year, haven’t talked to him in more than that. He asked me if I was okay and that, and I think that was where I woke up.

Separate, but sort of related, but not, was another one:

Again, school. This one is a bit more broken up, I don’t remember it all. I was in a tram, because it was the only way to get to our class.It was enclosed, and the “track” was above the actual carraige portion. We had to go all the way up to the top, and then come back down a bit to get to where we were going. We went past some razor wire on the top of a chain link fence, and I asked the girl next to me why they call it razor wire, and not barbed wire. She said that razor wire had more barbs and bits on it, and it was on a chain link fence, so they gave it a different name. When we got out of the tram, we went through a small garden, I think it had tomatoes and corn.

O…kay. Like I said, my subconscious is weird. There was another bit, but it’s not interesting, and I don’t remember much of it.