Thursday, January 29, 2015

January 28, 2015

Johnny and I were supposed to be visiting my aunt and uncle, but their house was more like a condo situated inside of a very expensive hotel. So all of the rooms were other condos, whose doors opened to a central lobby with high ceilings and flooded in natural light. Red carpeting leading up the stairs to each door, glass elevators, and potted tropical plants. My aunt and uncle lived on a floor about close to the top, but not quite. I only saw two rooms when I went inside, one was their bedroom. They had brown carpeting and a pale pink duvet. My aunt and uncle were in their king size bed watching television. From the crack in the door, I couldn't see their faces, just my aunt's extended arm holding the remote.

Across the hall was my grandma's room, but it was more like a studio apartment. The room was clean and seemed like it had been otherwise untouched since she died. The only source of light came from the corner where the kitchen was located. The refrigerator door was partially open, and the light inside cast a dim grey over the whole room. There was a vase of sunflowers on the tiny kitchen table, and a handmade afghan draped across a couch at the other end of the room.

We left and went down to the front desk of the condo lobby. From the desk, I could see my Honda parked outside. Johnny was waiting in the driver seat for me, but before I could leave, two men demanded he get out and drove off with my car. Johnny came inside with a handful of quarters, headed to the casino down the hall. I looked down at my iPhone and set the time back half an hour. As I did, time shifted along with it, so that my car reappeared in the parking lot with Johnny in the driver's seat. I watched the carjacking again, and Johnny come inside with the quarters. This time, I dialed back a little further, about 40 minutes. Everything changed except me, I was still standing in the same place. I walked out the door, got in the car, and we started to pull out of the parking lot. One of the two men approached my window, which was down about 3 inches, and pushed his mouth into the car, demanding we get out. I just said, "nope", and rolled the window up on his lips until he jerked away screaming. We drove off as both men stood in the parking lot near the corner of the building, watching us go.

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Saturday, January 17, 2015

I was in art school, a photography class for the most beginner students, and we were supposed to be having a critique. Only we were such beginners that a woman was working with me, taking the actual photos after I explained what I wanted the composition to look like. I showed up to school on the day of the critique and went to get out my prints, which were in a very large cardboard portfolio in a hall closet. Inside the closet I had two chickens and a guinea pig inside a large florist's box. The large white chicken was named Margaret, and the small red chicken was Henrietta. The guinea pig was cream, but didn't really seem to have a name. I went to class and pulled out a huge framed print, but it didn't look like how I wanted at all. I tried to explain to the professor this was nice, but it wasn't my work. She opened the frame and started pulling more prints from behind it, laying them all out on a table. They were all very professional looking, but not one looked the way I had described to the photographer. I went and sat at my computer. The classroom was really large, with blue business carpet, and all of our computer desks were situated in two rows in one corner of the room, leaving a lot of empty space around us. There was a call over the intercom about an emergency and that we should evacuate, and I was left scrambling to gather all of my prints and reach the closet in time to rescue the chickens and guinea pig. Afterward, there was a part where I was on a ranch with Michael Landon, but it was supposed to be the set of a television show like Bonanza. Some rustlers were sneaking off into the woods with my chickens. That's all I remember.

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

All I remember is a nightmare in which I'm trying to write a love letter to Johnny, but my hands are shaking too badly to read what I've written. As I'm trying to write, Johnny is standing a few feet away, writing "Fuck off" on piece after piece of paper, crumpling each one into a ball and throwing it at me. He says that I'm writing illegibly and makes fun of me for it, then continues to throw crumpled "fuck off" paper at me.

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

I dreamed I was in the cafeteria of my high school, when a bullet hit the glass window next to the door. As I went to investigate what happened, I noticed little drops of blood forming a trail toward the stairs. My friend Alex, who in real life I haven't spoken to since high school, came toward me with a terrified expression on his face and some of the blood on his fingers, as if he'd reached down and wiped it off the floor. He said he knew it was his brother. I don't know how he knew this from blood alone, but we mounted the stairs to the second floor landing, and found Shawn lying there with a bullet in his temple. He was still alive and talking, but he was losing blood. An ambulance was on the way, so we sat on the floor next to him and tried to keep his attention so he wouldn't lose consciousness. My friend Koz, his girlfriend, came running up as soon as she heard, and started sobbing. She knelt down in front of him and started praying out loud.
Shawn started to lose consciousness, but we managed to get his attention long enough for the ambulance to arrive and the paramedics to begin loading him into the back. They drove away and we were left standing in a sort of indoor courtyard near a box office window. Wide hallways branched away from us in every direction. There was discussion about who might have fired the shot, but I woke up just as we were speculating.

Friday, December 19, 2014

Friday, December 19, 2014

I don't remember all of this one, but in the end, Johnny, Cliff, and my co-worker were walking along a rocky shoreline. The bluffs along the beach were covered in green forest, and the sea was a similar shade of green. The beach itself was crowded with people, and as we stepped across the large boulders leading away from the shoreline, I was trying to convince everyone we should go to Vancouver, BC. I was explaining that the beaches there were a lot like this, only with far fewer people, so you had more of an opportunity to bump into wildlife and find seashells. My co-worker, who, I have no idea why she would even be in this dream in the first place, was argumentative. This is true to her nature, and no real surprise. I don't remember what she said, but apparently it made me mad, because I woke Johnny up talking in my sleep.

This is one where the action is pretty boring, but the landscape was so beautiful I wish I could recreate it here.

Monday, May 6, 2013

Monday, May 6, 2013

Johnny and I were driving down a highway, split down the middle by a tall concrete wall, with two lanes of traffic on each side. We were headed for the Illinois border, trying to get out of Missouri because it was a red state, and had been taken over by rebels. As we passed sections of concrete wall, they would explode behind us, often hitting a vehicle with explosive material.

We had managed to stay ahead of the explosions until suddenly one caught our rear tire. We had to pull off the side of the road because we were driving on the rim, and the place we stopped was a dirt and rock embankment that sloped steeply down into a field. As we were inspecting the car, a car pulled over and the two men inside forced us to come with them at gunpoint. They explained the entire state of Illinois was Kansas City, and because it was a blue state, we wouldn't be allowed to enter. The men said we were better off just coming with them.

We were driven to a compound that resembled a mental institution, with prison-like security features. As our identification was processed, they explained we would be held for 255 days, in separate areas. We wouldn't be allowed to see one another or send any form of correspondence. If we tried to escape or disobeyed in any way, additional time would be added to our sentence.

Johnny was finished first, and driven away on a golf cart. I was led down winding corridors that resembled a dimly lit hospital until we reached my room. Three hospital beds with scrub-green sheets were lined up together, with a curtain drawn around the sides of the room, and a small tv mounted at one end. I was made to wear a hospital gown that matched the sheets. An old woman was in one of the beds, and a girl I knew in junior high was in the other. The middle bed was mine, and I was told I had to stay there unless instructed otherwise. While the girl and the old woman preoccupied themselves watching television, I tried to devise a plan of escape. I was afraid I wouldn't see Johnny again, and I didn't know if he was ok.

The girl kept talking about Jurassic Park, which makes sense considering that's all I really remember about her in real life. The old woman kept saying things to me, but all I could make out was her wheezing. In the afternoon, I was allowed to get dressed, and was taken outside to a field that stretched out as far as I could see in every direction. The only thing in it was a piano, and I was allowed to play it for a while before being returned to my bed.

Saturday, October 6, 2012

Friday, October 5, 2012

There was an entire first part of this dream that I have completely forgotten. What I remember picks up with my stopping to buy groceries at Dierbergs. It was dark, and the store was mostly empty. I marveled at how lovely everything looked, and how perfectly the store seemed to cater to everything I'd been looking for. After paying for my two bags of groceries, I loaded my car and began driving to my parents' house. On the way, I was overcome by a craving for vanilla pudding, and kicked myself for not buying any. By this time, I was driving down a dark, two-lane road that was only illuminated by my headlights and an occasional streetlamp. I knew I wasn't going to have a lot of choice in finding such a nice grocery store.

Just then, I saw a store. It was big and brightly lit with fluorescent lighting, and floor to ceiling windows across the front. The building was made of a shiny corrugated metal, and the name of the store glowed in blocky neon red letters. I parked my car, and was met by a Latino man in a trench coat when I got out. He was holding a royal blue can of spray paint, which he shook menacingly at me and my car. Before I could decide what to do, he popped off the cap and sprayed me with it, leaving a big blue splotch of paint across my chest, some of which made it into the ends of my hair and splattered my face.

I turned and walked briskly toward the entrance of the store, where I met the manager, Mitt Romney, sweeping the sidewalk. He was dressed in black trousers, a white button up with a name tag, and a hunter green apron. I explained what had happened and asked him to do something about it. He shouted something over my shoulder that sounded like a racial comment about the Latino man, only Mitt seemed to think he was black. Either way, the man left, and Mitt grinned stupidly at me like he was some sort of hero. I wasn't exactly impressed, so I clapped him on the shoulder and just said, "Nice one, Mitt."

A quick trip into the store, and I had my box of vanilla pudding. As I headed back to my car, I passed Mitt, still sweeping. He tried to sound genuine, inviting me back soon, but I just shrugged and kept walking.

I arrived at my parents' house, which of course, looked nothing like their house.  My mom was excited to show me the backyard, so we went out to the deck to see what she'd been working on. The yard was reasonably sized, and square, filled with lush vegetation. It was encompassed by a chain link fence on which all sorts of viney things were growing. On the other side of the fence, the entire house was surrounded in fall woods. The ground was brown with fallen leaves, and the tall oak trees were spaced far enough apart that you could tell they went on forever.

Toward the back of the yard, I found a bird hopping around, which I first assumed was a baby, but realized after picking it up that it was the mother of a nest nearby. The babies had all hatched and grown their feathers, but they were all stiff and lying belly up around the nest, which was sitting on the ground.

 A large bald eagle appeared on the other side of the fence, and began pacing back and forth looking at me. I pulled out my phone to try and photograph it, but I couldn't seem to get anything in focus. Other animals began to appear. Birds landing on the fence, rabbits and squirrels picking around for things to nibble on, and dogs running through the woods. The sun must have come out because the woods began to glow with sunlight filtering through the trees. Two unicorns emerged from the woods, prancing up and down the fence, tossing their heads. They looked like grey Andalusians with horns. In other words, nearly exactly like this:


All of the other animals seemed to notice. The unicorns rolled on the ground with the dogs, and pawed at the fence. I finally turned back toward the middle of the yard, only to find that one of the unicorns had gotten in somehow. Its horn disappeared, and its coat changed from grey to shiny black. It was 17-18 hands in height, which probably only makes sense to you if you're a horse person...but that's tall. It came at me, tossing its head and circling me, which at first seemed threatening, until I realized it wanted to play. I spent the rest of the dream chasing and being chased by this horse, the way I used to do with the horses I rode in Seattle after my lesson.

Saturday, August 4, 2012

Saturday, August 4, 2012

Anxious fragments of dreams from the week...

Feeling tiny crawly bugs all over me while I was trying to sleep.

Panicking in a nightmare and yelling Johnny's name. Just as I did, I woke up, he rolled over and hugged me in his sleep.

Tape recorders.

Being on call, and forgetting to bring home my air card and power cable for my laptop.

Cavernous rooms, like a cathedral or a university library that goes on forever.

Stowing away aboard a tall ship.


Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

This one is a bit fuzzy. Johnny, myself, and our friend Josh were sharing an apartment. I only know this because Josh was leaving for work at the very beginning of the dream, and I waved goodbye to him as he was walking out the door.

Johnny and I were trying to get jobs as helicopter pilots, but I don't know what sort of purpose the helicopters had. I went first, and I flew really well. When it came time to park, I couldn't find a space to land. I ended up wandering all over a movie-theater parking lot holding the leg of my helicopter while it still hovered at half-capacity over my head, sort of like an umbrella that had been caught by a gust of wind. After wandering around for some time looking for a red X on the ground that would signify a landing pad, I finally found an empty parking space in the back of the lot near a dumpster. A girl in an SUV had just pulled out. It wasn't really a landing pad so much as an empty parking space, but I decided it would do.

I put the helicopter down and went back into our apartment, where Johnny was getting ready for his flight. He put on his jacket, which was a yellow-green satin baseball style, with yellow stripes on the collar and cuffs, and a bunch of colorful patches on the front. We were having a conversation about something while he was gathering everything he needed, but I don't remember what about. I had a white guinea pig for a pet, which I scooped up and was carrying through the apartment with me, feeding it carrots while we talked.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Saturday, January 7, 2012

I keep meaning to post this bizarro dreams I've been having, but it never seems to happen. Morning blogging isn't my forte.

So last night, I dreamt I was supposed to meet up with Johnny, to do dinner theater of some sort at a bar. Beforehand, I had stopped into a repair shop to see about having my clarinet worked on. Due to some sort of cashier misunderstanding, I nearly left with a brand new instrument that played beautifully, but I opted to be honest about it and let them know that mine was actually the broken one. The shop owner came out shortly afterward to inform me that they would not be repairing my clarinet, because he had it on record that I was a poor customer who had referred to his wife as a "Stupid bitch" two years before, as well as making some other infraction I no longer recall.

On my way to the bar, I passed a friend of Johnny's walking down the sidewalk wearing a trench coat over a long hot pink dress and heels. It was later explained to me that it was a costume for some show he was in, and all I could think to ask was, "Why would you walk to work in heels?"

I arrived at the bar to find Johnny asleep in back taking a nap. I went to the bathroom and as I was standing in front of the mirror, began to inspect my left eye because it felt like I had something in it. I spent the next 20 minutes or so removing piece after piece of broken glass as it surfaced from beneath my eyeball, along with a bright yellow fluid. At some point, I realized that my right eye was partially disconnected and as a result, was beginning to pop out through my left eye's socket, draining a bright blue fluid.

This was disconcerting, and naturally I felt a desire to seek medical attention as soon as possible. For some reason, I was unable to dial 911, and set off walking to a hospital across Iowa, by way of traveling through a lot of corn and wheat fields. As I walked, I had to constantly dodge mini tornadoes which I would guesstimate were around 8 feet tall, zipping down the rows of the fields. At that point it turned into a sort of video game which became increasingly more difficult as I began to lose eye sight in both of my eyes, caused by my broken glass injury and rapid macular degeneration in my right.

The last thing I remember was encountering a troop of mounted soldiers that looked like they had ridden directly off the cover of a Risk board game, and being passed by ambulances at high speed with lights flashing and sirens blaring.