Friday, March 3, 2017
I had a dream this afternoon, that I was helping someone's family flee from Godzilla. Half of their house was on fire, planes were in the air dropping bombs all around us, everyone was screaming and all I was concerned with was making sure everyone was wearing comfortable shoes.
I had a Godzilla dream again. Halfway through the dream, he turned into something that looked more like a talking velociraptor, and he was taunting me in a Hannibal Lecter voice. Later I was smoking and hanging out with Manda Lee. We were swinging on a swing set and talking about how Godzilla is such a mind-game playing asshole.
Friday, September 16, 2016
I was going in to work after having a week or more off. When I arrived, there were three people working the front desk; Christine, Daniel, and a new guy (some ginger teenager know-it-all that I immediately hated).
As soon as I got to the desk, I was stuck with some angry couple with a dog, who had been waiting hours to check into a suite (room 112). It took me awhile to check them in because the computer system had completely changed while I was away and I couldn't tell whether the room was clean yet. They had also ordered a brownie, so I scooped out a brownie from a pan at the desk, dropped it on the floor, and handed it to them. They left to go to their room, bitching about me under their breath.
As I was complaining about the couple to Christine, they came back through the lobby, and the man shouted at me, "Thanks for using Q Tips!" I told him you're welcome. I had just cleaned my ears before work, and I couldn't tell if his remark was sarcastic or not. I asked Christine whether she uses Q Tips as directed, like just cleans the outside part of the ear, or sticks them in the ear canal. Because I stick my Q Tips all the way inside my ears. She just stared at me like I was stupid and never replied.
When my shift was over, I walked out to the parking lot with Daniel. It resembled a mall parking lot and there was all this construction going on. We walked past the construction workers to the corner of the lot, where all my furniture was set up. Apparently I sort of temporarily lived in the parking lot? We sat down in some recliners and smoked some weed. I explained indignantly that I was not homeless, this was just how it had to be for awhile.
Charlie came by to pick up a lamp. We hadn't split up or anything, so I still don't know why I was living in the parking lot. We all went back into the building to get it. Julie was holding up a floor lamp that looked like a big cocktail glass when we walked in. I told her that was mine and she just glared at me and shouted, "UNPROFESSIONAL!"
(When I woke up, I was immediately disappointed with myself for checking a pet into a suite.)
Thursday, May 19, 2016
I never found out what he had done to be thrown out of the church mentioned in the paper. I found it odd and unsettling that seemingly everyone else had known about this guy but me. He was everywhere-- on the radio, in magazines, newspapers. My dad had his newest CD. I saw him on TV playing a concert, and his piano was freakishly tall; he sat 20 feet up in the air on his bench, playing this thing, with his little feet dangling down. The piano had no pedals, and his music came out sounding very staccato and strange. He didn't seem human, and his music was alien. I didn't trust him, and was convinced he had put the world into some hypnotic trance for dark purposes.
Monday, February 22, 2016
I went home to a little apartment where I apparently lived by myself. I was single and not a mom in this dream. I laid down for awhile, heard the phone ring a few times and let the answering machine take all my calls. The outgoing message on the answering machine was my mom making all these random weird sounds and joking around for like 2 or 3 minutes. No one ended up leaving a message.
I got a knock on my door. I answered it to find Steve Buscemi on my doorstep, holding his palm out to me to show me parts of a watch band. He said that the last time I was over at his place, my watch broke and he just now found the rest of the parts. He walked past me into my apartment before I had time to tell him to come in. Behind him was a bitchy teenage girl, who was his niece.
The two of them sat down on stools at the counter in my kitchen. Steve Buscemi said, "I'd love some potato salad," but I told him I really didn't have much food in the fridge, and that we'd have to order out. "Pizza or Chinese," I asked, and the girl made a disgusted face and told me no Chinese. I told them that leaves pizza. "I can get Sergio's and have to go pick it up, or Papa Johns and I can get points. "I don't think Papa Johns can understand what I want," said Steve Buscemi, so I told him he'd better write it down.
We ended up leaving to go out to eat anyway. I said FIRST ONE TO THE CAR WINS and ran outside, as did the girl. Steve Buscemi took his sweet time getting his sport coat on and checking to make sure all the lights in the house were off before walking out. He did not win. I noticed there was a hair dryer laying on my front porch.
Suddenly (I guess this was a separate dream), Mulder and Scully were at a house with me, they were chasing someone or something upstairs to the attic. They followed through the attic door, into complete darkness, and shut the door. I was inside the attic and not. Like I wasn't really there but I could see what was happening inside. Mulder and Scully were shooting all these guys, hacking them up with machetes, knifing them, all sorts of shit. An entire three quarters of Mulder's head got cut off, but immediately grew back.
They turned around and opened the door, out into the light, and swore they had no idea how any of that had happened. Whatever did the killing in the attic looked like them, but it wasn't really them. Scully said, "It was so dark, there's no way I could aim my gun in there! And Mulder, you only have a vial of the last virus of its kind!" "Second to last," he said indignantly. It was a real X File.
Friday, February 12, 2016
I have no recollection of driving the car. Next thing I remember, I was on the bus, which was packed with tons of people. We stopped at a stop light in front of the dealership, and a man was outside motioning for the bus driving to come off the bus. As soon as the driver opened the bus doors, the man shot him. Then the gunman starting pacing back and forth, screaming to himself and waving the gun around.
I said to some of the other people on the bus that I was going to escape out the back door and that they should follow me, which seemed like an awful plan, as the gunman would almost definitely see us. None of them followed me in my escape, they all thought it was too dangerous. When I slipped out the back door, I saw the gunman was near the front of the bus fussing with the driver, who was not yet dead and had tried to climb back into the bus.
As the gunman shot the driver again, I quickly sneaked past and back toward the dealership. I glanced back and saw the gunman was on the bus, shooting each person in the head. But each time he put the gun to one of the passenger's heads, the person would laugh right before they were killed.
Thursday, February 11, 2016
I was the star of a reality TV show. My job was to go to businesses that had someone recently die in the building, and inspect the back bathroom while a camera crew followed me around. Every place I went to was laid out roughly the same, with the back bathroom in the exact same location in the building.
I got a call to go out to a building in a sketchy part of town. I went to the place with my camera crew in tow. A big mafia type guy answered the door, and I asked if they had a recent death in the building. The guy smiled and told me yeah, so I was pretty sure he had killed the person himself. He let me in and let me look for the bathroom on my own. I went to the place where the back bathroom should have been, but there was only a wall. No door.
Mafia guy asked me if I was looking for the bathroom, to which I replied yeah, and he said, "Oh, well that's in the basement," and pointed to a hole in the corner of the room. A metal ladder went down at least 20 feet before it was hidden in dark. My camera crew waited, the guy holding the camera motioned me to go ahead. Mafia guy stood there grinning and staring at me. I started like I was going to climb down and stopped. "NO, I'M TOO SCAAARED," I yelled, and got so embarrassed that this was on live TV that I ran away and went into hiding.
I was suddenly in some foreign country, on a boat tied to a dock, wearing a ridiculous disguise.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
It started with high school, or college. I'm not sure which it was, it was only the friends in between classes and after school that I saw. He was like my sidekick (much like one of my actual friends in high school), we would sit by windows and judge people walking by and talk about dreams and ideas. Comfortable and familiar. We would walk to Subway a lot. This was apparently our hangout spot away from school, but it looked more like a Denny's. And more judging would ensue.
I had promised my aunt that I would pick up my Nanny (who in real life, died a few years ago) from the airport the morning after next. I asked my friend to go with me and he agrees. The airport is hours away, so it will be a fun road trip. We would be like Thelma and Louise.
I realize the next morning that I have a class the morning I'm supposed to go to the airport. I speak to the teacher about this (my teacher was the Prof. Walsh character from Buffy) and was told that if I skipped class and missed the exam the next morning, I fail her class. I asked to be excused to make a quick emergency phone call and she let me. I called my mom, distraught over my dilemma. I wanted to take this trip to the airport with my friend, I didn't want to let my Nanny and my aunt down, I didn't want to fail my class. She said that Nanny could wait at the airport for a few hours until I could get there. Don't worry. My mother can calm me down even in my dreams.
I return to class and watch in a growing horror as students do bizarre presentations with music, brightly colored paper, and interpretive dance. I realize that not only did I NOT I have a presentation ready, I had no idea what this class was supposed to be about.
My friend and I went to a movie theater after school, and it was crowded beyond belief. Swarms of people were crushing us trying to get in. I don't recall even seeing the movie, just the mass of bodies squeezing to get out afterwards. There was a holographic woman thanking us and waving at the exit, reminding us to keep the theater clean and to thank a veteran, then we all spilled out into the mall.
We left and sat out by a tree, and he asked me to go to Subway with him after we go to the airport. For some reason, this was different than just walking to Subway as friends, this was a date. There was a subtle distinction in how he said it and looked at me. Yeah, it made more sense in the dream. Of course. As does everything. I walked home by myself, in a daze, through a war torn Bridgewater.