Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Dream 19. Childhood Basement.

I was at a cave, which I called my childhood basement. It resembled a basement at first, with a staircase leading up (reminded me of the stairs in a movie theater between the seats). The further it led up, the more it resembled an attic. This is apparently where I had spent a lot of time playing as a child. It was dark and dusty. There were faded things I had written on the walls in crayon, papers with pictures I had drawn, things carved into wooden beams.

There were ghosts at an old apartment at the top of the stairs. Three women that had been dead since the 19th century. Two of the ghosts showed themselves once in a while on the stairs. One was a standard semi-transparent ghost. The other was tangible. I brushed against her once walking up. The third stayed in the apartment at the top of the stairs, moving things around, making her presence known without being seen.

I had flashbacks of my childhood. I had a friend that used to play there with me when I was around 6 or 7. It was Elijah Wood. Young Elijah Wood, I mean. We would go up to the haunted apartment and look through the ghosts' old belongings. We had found a woman, presumably the third ghost, hanging from a ceiling beam in the bedroom. We ran to tell adults, but when police came, no body was found.

Flash to present day. I was visiting the basement-attic-cave with Hillary and her boys, showing them around and such. We didn't see the ghosts, but I felt that they were still there. I was trying to explain to Hillary that there was one spot in the cave where I remember saying a certain phrase and something completely different had come out of my mouth. I found the phrase written on the back of a piece of paper, but spoke the words and they sounded normal.

Then, probably a different dream...I was waiting with Mandy for a ship to dock outside with a delivery. The ship captain was Sacha Baron Cohen, and he was being exceptionally rude to me. I remember leaning over to Mandy and whispering, "Sacha Baron Cohen is an ASSHOLE."

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Dream 18. Where should I shoot her?

I was at a comedy club, one of three people that had entered a stand-up comedy contest: an Asian-looking girl, Daniel, and myself. Apparently this was round two of the two night contest. Everyone had done really well the night before, but this time I was out of material. It was all improv, nothing planned ahead of time. I got up and tried to tell the story of that one time my dad had tried to use a jet pack (apparently that had happened earlier in the dream, but I don't remember enough of it), but it was one of those moments where you had to have been there, and I bombed terribly and lost the contest. I think the Asian girl won.

I was at my house with Hillary and Daniel, except it was my parents' house in WA and we were all teenagers. I was ridiculously drunk and we were all hanging out in my room lighting incense and listening to music while my brother was going into a drunken rage out in the hall about these damn liberals and there's not enough god in the world and guns and yada yada yada.

I stumbled out to ask my mom something and my brother chased me back to my room with a very long shotgun pointed at my face. He kept asking Hillary and Daniel, "Where should I shoot her?" and everyone was just sort of frozen. I was trying to push the end of the gun away from me. Then this 4 foot tall squattish balding dude with very thick glasses, who we were calling Cousin Ned, jumped up on my brother from behind and snapped his neck. Before the police arrived, I ran around the house throwing away all reminders of my brother and ripping family photos off the walls.

Friday, March 3, 2017

My 2013 Godzilla dreams.

(OLD DREAMS JUST FOUND ON FACEBOOK)

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

Dream 17. I live in the parking lot.

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

Dream 16. Courtney Love's Husband is an Alien-Korean Pianist.

As I was throwing something away in the kitchen trash, I saw a newspaper on top of the garbage with a story about how Courtney Love's husband had been thrown out of a church. I was confused as to how and why they could throw a dead man out of anything. I was starting to get upset about what they were possibly doing to Kurt Cobain's ashes, when I thought to see if maybe she had remarried and I just hadn't heard. And I found out she had, to a famous Korean pianist who played the world's tallest piano.

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

Dream 15. Steve Buscemi and X Files.

I was at work, at the end of first shift. Christine and a new girl in training came in for second shift and I was not done with anything. There was all this other bullshit getting in my way of my counting the drawer. I was supposed to get out of there at three, but by the time I was done with everything, I ended up clocking out at 6.

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

Dream 14. School Bus.

I was on my way to test drive a car that my brother had called and told me about. At the dealership, they had it set up where everyone test drove the cars to the same place on the other end of town, then had to leave the cars there and board an old school bus that would then drive them back to the dealership.

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.