A Chris Themed Dream?

Tonight I had a really weird dream with 3 different Chris. I have not idea how to pluralize Chris right now as it is 5:30 in the morning and I am barely awake. Back to the dream. I don't use names on my blog, but I don't really see a way around this and it none of the people I mention are in contact with me now, so I guess it won't matter.

I was in a yellow 4-door sedan. It was old, from the seventies or something like that. Considering I am from the seventies, I would like to rephrase that to say it was middle aged. No, wait, it was, um in the prime of its life? Forget it. Anyway, my mom, dad and aunt were in the backseat. In the front seat was a girl-Kris, and a guy-Chris I used to make out with on occasion when I was about 19. I just reread that and would like to be clear; I only made out with the guy. It wasn't like I was having a threesome with Chris people. Wow, that got weird in a hurry.

The Kris and my parents were in town visiting. We were at some strip mall having just eaten at a restaurant. Kris was driving and decided to get out of the crowded parking lot by backing up onto the walkway in front of the strip mall to drive on the sidewalk around the cars back onto the parking lot. I questioned it and she said it was totally legal where she lives and started backing up. I was sitting in the passenger seat watching the cars beside us. She backed up but turned too soon and ran into the corner of the parked car sitting next to us. I saw this happening but couldn't tell her. Being a dream, I instead had a conversation with my father about how I didn't think she saw the parked cars like I did.

Instead of stopping when she took off the corner of the car, she kept backing up. The line of her trajectory had her scraping along the back of the next three cars in line. We finally yelled at her to stop. Which she did and got out to survey the mess. As we were sizing up the situation, a cop car pulled into the parking lot, flashed its lights once and stopped in front of us. I panicked because I realized I was suddenly sitting in the drivers' seat. There was a quick conversation in the car and we decided to tell the cop that Chris was the one driving. Apparently we came up with a dream-plausible reason for this, in case the cop asked.

The minute the cop walked up to the car, I started flirting. Not because he was attractive, but because I thought we could use all the help we could get. He was attractive though. Not hot exactly, but more my type. Yes, I know that sounds weird. I typically go for unorthodox looking guys. He was tall, with a round face a round middle, beefy upper body and kind eyes. (Yes, I like my guys with some middle, some squish to cuddle against. Six pack abs are hard and uncomfortable.) I must say I was totally on point. The cop was very taken with me and gave me his business card, in case I needed to contact him later with any questions. After he walked away, there was much discussion about my interaction. My father was telling my mom all about how that is how you have to act and gave a compliment akin to "That's my girl."

As we were getting out of the car, I looked at the card with the name Detective Chris Johnson. Mentally deciding that I would indeed have some questions later, I slipped the card into my pocket. Officer Chris came back and asked to speak to me and my father. He told us that in a few moments the officers who would be handling the case would be here and there would be a round of questioning for Make-Out-Chris. He was able to inform us as to the nature of the questioning with out really saying it. (There is a word for that whole phrase, but I am too tired to think of it.) Basically they were going to ask him a bunch of questions about pot. He liked us (me) and wanted to help us (me) out in any way possible, but since he was the first officer on the scene, he could not tell Make-Out-Chris himself.

My dad declined and sent me over to talk to him. Keep in mind that Make-Out-Chris was still 19 in this dream, so I was no longer attracted to him, he was more like a brother or cousin at this point. Before the other officers showed up, I was able to discuss this with him. I should mention that the reason for all this concern was that he was noticeably slow mentally. Not mentally challenged, just not quite quick witted enough to evade all the questioning without prepping.

This was only a dream aspect of Make-Out-Chris. When I was making out with him, he was in no way slow. Also I am not sure if he smoked pot back in the day, but given the crowd, it was highly likely. I am saying this because most people know my aversion to dating anyone who like the herb and understand that both of these things are pretty abnormal for me to be attracted to. Not that it mattered the dream because again, he was 19 and too young for me to be attracted to him.

So the secondary police officers arrive on the scene and Officer Chris drives away IN A WHITE 80s A-TEAM VAN! I kid you not. This van was the exact same, painted white with a blue strip diagonally down the side. To refresh your memory:


I recognized the shape because of the spoiler on top. (Why does a van need a spoiler? I guess since it is driven by Mr. T., I can understand and will not rant.) Sadly, I was suddenly very excited and decided I was definitely going to have some questions later for Officer Chris. Like how the freak he was allowed to have that van as a police car. It. Was. Awesome. Sadly, I am still excited.

The dream fast forwards to a day at the beach with my brothers and a few of their friends. (I don't remember exactly who.) For some reason we were soaked to the skin. Oddly we were still in Colorado. A section of beach and the highway leading away from it were just cut and pasted into the dream by my brain. We stop at a gas station to use the rest room and buy some snacks when they leave without me! Yup. They just totally forget about me and drive off. I am left standing outside.

All I have are the clothes on my back. I can't call my brother to tell him what a dumbass he is because I don't have my cell and don't have his number memorized. I have a minor philosophical conversation with myself about how times have changed and no one memorizes numbers anymore. But then, I reach into my pocket and find (fanfare) Officer Chris' card. It is dilapidated and soggy around the edges, but the number is intact.

I call. Seconds later the white, A-Team van drives up. With my heart all a-flutter at being rescued, I get into the van. We have an awesome, flirty conversation. Apparently I am looking for a job or considering going back to school. He tells me about a job and a school right next door to each other.

Then the dream cuts to me in a restaurant waiting for food. It is now nighttime I am still wet, I think I am now barefoot and a friend is waiting outside to take me home. I go out and tell him that I am still waiting on food, but am going to run next door to get applications for a job I heard about and look at the "school." We are waiting at yet another strip mall, so I have no idea what kind of school this is, but have the vague impression that it is a trade school of some sort. He tells me he is going to drive around the corner to run an errand but will be right back.

I get the applications go back to the restaurant and the lady behind the counter hands me a huge cellophane bag with hot dog buns in it. I take it and she explains that because she is sorry for the wait, she has given me 3 more hot dogs and extra buns, in case I want them later. I am now happy about the $2 hot dog that I purchased since it will give me leftovers for the week. Before that I was angry at the absurd price of $2. And I am elated that the hot dog buns appear to be whole wheat. There is so much wrong here that I can't even comment.

I go outside in time to see the the A-Team van drive off. I get into the car with the giant bag, prompting my friend to comment that I have, "Yet another week's worth of food." I ask him about Officer Chris and he tells me that Chris was checking up on me to make sure I had gotten home safely. My friend told him that I was getting a ride home with him and all was well. Chris then tells him how he also was checking to see if I needed help with the applications because he is certified in paperwork.

Hold on, I have to stop and laugh. Even in the dream we find that ludicrous and have a nice chuckle. I defend Officer Chris by saying that he is kind of a boy scout and really nice guy, so he is not really as goofy as he came off. We sit quietly for a few minutes driving up Broadway. I then turn to my friend and say, "I think I like Officer Chris, is it weird for me to tell you that?" (My friend is about 10 - 15 years older and is more of a fatherly type guy in my life which is why it would be weird to get all twitterpated with him. That is more of a girl to girl conversation in my head I guess.)

And then I wake up. With heartburn. Really, really bad heartburn. What that has to do with the dream, I don't know. Maybe it is all the $2 hotdogs I ate. But it did keep me from going back to sleep which in turn led me to write this all out. So you can thank the heartburn while I curse it.

As I think through my dream again, (I am not going to reread and edit, so just be happy you are getting a post as you judge all the errors.) I am noticing an "I am old" theme running through out along side the Chris theme. Let's not forget the real moral of this story. I would date anyone driving personalized A-Team van.

It is nice to know that nostalgic cheese is the real key to my heart. Like that was a huge secret.

Do You Dream in Color? Because I Dream in Cartoon.

No really. I always think my dreams can't get crazier but then they do. When I woke up, I tore out of bed and wrote this down because I was already starting to forget it. Did I get coffee first? Did I check my email? Did I even pause for a drink of water to quench my insane thirst? No. Why? Because I love you, my peeps. And letting you peek at my insanity is way more important than my welfare.

Your welcome. Just so you get the complete picture, the characters in my dream were 1980's cartoon characters running around in the real world. Only they were in cartoon format, everything else was "real." Megatron was not the new live-action version, but the old grey and black version from the Saturday morning cartoons. Got that? Good. Here we go.

The dream started with Megatron in a car chase with Barney Rubble. Barney was able to escape because he assumed Megatron was looking for one of the balls that he had shadily obtained and collected into bags in his car. Barney threw one of the bags into the street causing the balls to scatter in every direction. While Megatron stopped to collect all the balls, Barney was able to escape.

Fred came looking for Barney because he knew that Megatron was looking for a globe. A globe Fred had in his possession. Fred found Barney in the house and told him what was going on. Barney looked at Fred and said, "Well why didn't you say so? I know how we can escape." Apparently Barney had been collecting balls for some time. They went to grab all the remaining balls out of Barney’s car and hidden throughout the house.

Then the dream cut away to Megatron flying over the city. Using his sensors he was able to find Fred and Barney. When he got there, they both ran out of the house in different directions. Megatron started chasing Barney. That is when Barney opened the duffle bag he was carrying and swung it around him in a circle. Out of his bag came flying hundreds of medium size globe printed playground balls that ricochet in every direction. Megatron drove in and grabbed one but immediately dropped it. Suddenly the view zoomed in on his hand and to see it dripping with paint. Barney and Fred had taken Barney’s collection of balls and painted them all to look like globes.

Incensed Megatron went after Barney, but hearing a noise turned to see another globe rolling down the street. He picked up that globe, which was heavier than the others, and flew off into the night. Barney ran down a few blocks and jumped into Fred’s car (Which was the same car he drives in the cartoon so this time the car was a cartoon, but the previous cars were not.) As they drove off into the night, one more globe popped out of Fred’s exhaust pipe. Fred had been driving around town shooting painted bowling balls out of his tail pipe to distract Megatron. Unfortunately Megatron realized what was going on and flew over to chase the two down in Fred’s car.

In a panic, Barney reached into the glove box; pulled out a small, marble-sized globe; and threw it out the car behind him. Fred screamed, "No!" and slammed on the breaks but not before Megatron saw the globe and grabbed it. Then his fist, holding the globe, disappeared into his arm only to reappear empty. Megatron laughed and flew away as Fred jumped on to his leg. Just as he was about to fly off with Fred attached, Barney threw a bag of globe painted bouncy balls the same shape onto the street. They bounced in every direction and Megatron hurried to grab them all.

Barney, feeling responsible for the whole mess, summoned his courage and ran up Megatron’s arm and disappeared inside his body when Megatron inserted his hand to store another globe. Because the dream was now taking place inside Megatron's body, the internal scene was in cartoon. He ran around inside Megatron and found the real globe. He grabbed it and started looking for an exit. Just as he was slipping back outside he saw Ravage (Soundwave’s dog) starting to transform from a tape into a dog. He grabbed a crowbar and threw it into the transforming robot jamming it in mid transformation. Unfortunately he saw the robot adjust and start to transform into Laserbeak (the bird) instead to maneuver out from under the crow bar. After Barney makes it out, he takes off down the street but Megatron shoots at Barney’s back. Fred screamed, “No!” in the distance and then I woke up.

My theory on where this dream comes from is that my poor brain was forced to repay me for the massive headache I got yesterday. Well, not for the headache, but the means I took to get rid of the headache. At about 1:00 am, I couldn't stand it anymore and finally took some aspirin. Knowing that it has caffeine and would probably keep me up all night, I also took it with some PMS medication that always relaxes me. Then I was suddenly starving so I got up and ate a piece of toast with Nutella. Once I finished that, I realized I was still hungry so I had another piece of toast with twice the Nutella. Then I tried to go to sleep. I was relaxed enough lay in bed and doze, but my brain was too awake to sleep until about 4:30 this morning. There was a lot more to the beginning of the dream, but it was one of those where you start to forget everything the minute you wake up. The only thing I can remember was being teamed up with someone else for some sort of contest presentation and then Megatron.

This is how movies like Space Jam get created. Don't look for this to be a movie any time soon as I am pretty sure Hannah Barbara still owns the rights to The Flinstones while someone else owns Transformers. I am too tired right now to look up who. I usually look up the specific items in an online dream dictionary to see what it all means. I think I'll pass on this one. I don't think I really want to know.

When I was editing this I realized I accidentally wrote, "Using his censors he was able to find Fred and Barney." All of a sudden I got a vision of Megatron flying over the city hearing a series of bleeping and then seeing a house covered in little black out bars. Maybe I am still asleep.

Mono Is Better Than Dating. True Story.

This came in today and made me chuckle. I am hoping to finish that story up. The weather was bleak last week. It has been mostly overcast and we even had some snow. I think. Anyway, I have not been in a writing mood. I have been in a crawl-in-a-hole-type mood. I was tired and crabby and no matter how often I remind myself the weather makes me blue, I can't seem to accept it. Then the sun comes out, it is beautiful and I feel happy. Only then can I see that life isn't any different and the clouds were the only thing keeping me down.

I did have a dream last night. I only remember pieces of it, and it is the type that randomly switches reality so it may not make much sense.

I was hanging out with my mom in Denver waiting for somebody to come out of a building. I started noticing that my nails were all ragged and my clothes were looking dumpy. We had been hanging out all day, but we were supposed to have a coffee date at that time. I told my mom I wanted to go home and "freshen up" and would meet her at the coffee shop, which was only a couple of blocks away. Going home meant that I was going to make myself late when I was already there. And even though she said it was ok, I wondered if that would irritate her as it was irritating me.

The next thing I knew I was in a car at a stoplight waiting to turn right. The line was crazy long and as I waited, I noticed that Kyra Sedgwick was in the middle of the intersection on a stage standing behind a podium. Actually it was Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson, her character from The Closer. She was talking to the cop in the car in front of me. I knew he was a cop because of his uniform even though he was not in a police car. She was asking him a bunch of needless questions which was causing him and everyone else to get irritated because she was holding up traffic. Somehow she got him to announce his name. All of a sudden there were lights and he was being pulled over. I seemed to understand that she tricked him into announcing his name because a warrant for arrest couldn't be served until a perpetrator had been ID'd. (How do you spell ID'd?) Finally the traffic started to move and she apologized to everyone gathered. Everyone included the traffic and a bunch of obviously rich and famous people seated behind a table that ran the length of the block I was turning on to.

As I turned, I found myself no longer in my car but sliding along the white tablecloth bumping into everything on the table. As I was sliding by I heard Brenda say, "I apologize especially to you nice folks who are here for the ceremony, which is made evident by your beautiful and well made dresses. Like you there in your beautifully colored, um, black dress. Would ya'll mind telling me where you got your lovely dresses? I have an event to attend next week and I can't seem to find a gown anywhere."

And then I woke up. I made my bed and discovered another woman's ring between the mattresses. Which you would think would ruin my day, but it just reminded me how much better off I am without my lying, cheating ex-boyfriend. Even being dead on a couch with mono is better than life with him. So that cheered me up.

How was your day?

And Now a Visit From Chef Gordon Ramsey

More fun in dreamland!

Last night I dreamed that I was a contestant on Hell's Kitchen. The weird part was that it all took place at my Uncle & Aunt's house. They weren't there, but my cousins from Hide & Seek were. While the it was on the same property, it was a completely different house. I only know it was in the same place because I could see the front yard from the kitchen window. Ramsey was upstairs in another kitchen with a bunch of contestants. The contest had him taking us one by one into this tiny little pantry-kitchen about 6x6. It had a stove lining one wall and a sink lining the opposite wall, leaving very little room for Gordon and one other person. Things were crazy and everyone else was tense, but I was just relaxed and waiting for my turn.

Since I wasn't up for a while, I decided to go downstairs to the main kitchen to get coffee. It was early in the morning and being the nice person that I am, I asked everyone else if they would like me to bring them a cup. I popped my head into the pantry/kitchen and asked Gordon if he would like some as well. He actually looked touched.

Then he decided to throw me another test and asked me to make him breakfast. Instead of telling me what he wanted, he started speaking French and gave me a list of ingredients. I told him I wouldn't be able to remember everything by the time I got downstairs. I was also desperately looking around for paper and pencil to write it all down when he looked at me and said, "Look at me. Now, concentrate Love, you can do this, yeah?" This was followed by a second list of ingredients this time in a French accent. As I went downstairs, I realized that the first list was in English but with the accent and weird phrasing I hadn't recognized all the ingredients. I started repeating the list so that I wouldn't forget them. Potatoes, pencil onions, sausage and oregano.

When I got to the downstairs kitchen, I was horrified to see that the kitchen was a mess and everything I needed had already been used. There had been another challenge taking place in this kitchen. It had been led by Gordon's very yummy sous chef, Scott Liebfried. I looked around for something I could use. There was a prep bowl of green onions, sausage meatballs and a pan of cooked hashbrowns. I figured that was just about everything he had asked for so I would go from there. E and T were sitting at the table in the breakfast nook eating the remains of the challenge. I asked them if they thought there were any other onions around. They told me to help myself to whatever was in the fridge and then they left for work. I opened the refrigerator to see if I could find white onion. I found more raw sausage meat balls and patties.

I thought about using them, but they had been mixed with red and green peppers. I didn't have time to pick them out and I didn't think that would go with the oregano. I saw a lot of red onions that looked like they had been cut into rings for hamburgers. I rejected those out of hand because I wouldn't be able to cook them long enough to without overcooking the rest. There were a bunch of ends of white and yellow onions scattered throughout the fridge but they were all moldy. As I opened the vegetable crisper and saw the green onions, it hit me that they were shaped like pencils if you thought of the white part as an eraser. Pencil onions must have been a French description of green onions.

Realizing I had everything I needed I went back to the stove. The first thing I did was look through the sausage balls for all the undercooked ones. Apparently in every contest someone invariably undercooks the meal. I was starting to prep everything to cook when Scott came over and asked what I was doing. When I explained the situation to him, he jumped in and offered to help. As long as he only followed my directions, it wasn't cheating for him to do the cooking. It occurred to me at this point in the dream that Gordon and Scott were nicer to me than everyone else because I stirred up less drama. I asked him to cut away the outsides of both the hashbrowns and the sausage balls. I wanted to use the insides as they would be less likely to get overcooked.

I started looking for oregano on the spice shelf; I kept finding rosemary instead. I decided to use fresh oregano when it appeared before me and started worrying about how I was going to present the dish when it was finished. I also realized that I would have to somehow infuse the fresh oregano into the already cooked product in order for it to have enough flavor. I cut up slices of lemon and threw them into a pot of water to boil with the oregano and set a vegetable steamer over the top with the hashbrowns and sausage. Scott complimented me on my ingeniousness but questioned the consistency of the final product. I assured him that this would keep everything from drying out as it heated up and I would fry it all together before serving it to make it brown and crispy.

When everything was ready to go, I started looking for the dried oregano again. I thought it was ridiculous that a kitchen wouldn't have any. That is when I woke up.

Now I ask you, what kitchen product could I not advertise in this already twisted dream?

Internet Tests, I Love Having Proof

So I got served an Americano last night. It was not decaf. The following is why I try not to drink it. I was going to remove some of the test results, but since I am a little annoyed, I have a sudden urge to be annoying!

First, I did have a couple of bizarre dreams. The last one left me feeling jumpy and scared, so I GOT UP AT 4:00 AM!

1. I have been having a lot of shopping dreams. So many that last night I revisited a mall that had been a backdrop in a previous dream. When I saw a pair of shoes that I liked on display, I started to leave my group to go to the shoe department. Then I remembered that I had just seen everything they had and it was too soon for them to have added new inventory or dropped prices. I laughed when I woke up.

2. A big group of people were all staying overnight at someone's house for a type of slumber party. For some reason, I decided to sleep in the sideyard. I woke up hearing voices coming from the front of the house. They were strangers, not people from the party. I then realized that not only had one of them seen me, I had kicked off my sleeping bag and pajama bottoms in my sleep. I heard him going to get the others so I started looking for my pants. I finally found them and put them on while sitting down trying to maintain some form of modesty. I grabbed my teddy bear and ran around the house to the back door just as I heard them coming. The dream suddenly turned very frightening and I woke up yelling.

Sometimes when I wake up from those, I can't let myself go back to sleep because I go straight back to the nightmare or something worse happens. So, I got up instead thinking I would go back to sleep at daybreak when I would be less likely to have a bad dream. It is now 8:00; I am still not tired and now I have to go take my Adderall. I am so curious as to what today will be like. The good news is I barely feel fatigued. I almost feel normal.

One thing I am sure of is that there is a nap in my future.

Your result for The 3 Variable Funny Test...

the Cutting Edge

(57% dark, 42% spontaneous, 21% vulgar)

your humor style:
CLEAN | SPONTANEOUS | DARK



Your humor's mostly innocent and off-the-cuff, but somehow there's something slightly menacing about you. Part of your humor is making people a little uncomfortable, even if the things you say aren't themselves confrontational. You probably have a very dry delivery, or are seriously over-the-top.

Your type is the most likely to appreciate a good insult and/or broken bone and/or very very fat person dancing.


PEOPLE LIKE YOU: David Letterman - John Belushi




The 3-Variable Funny Test!
- it rules -

Take The 3 Variable Funny Test at OkCupid

Your result for The Commonly Confused Words Test...

English Genius

You scored 100% Beginner, 100% Intermediate, 87% Advanced, and 87% Expert!

You did so extremely well, even I can't find a word to describe your excellence! You have the uncommon intelligence necessary to understand things that most people don't. You have an extensive vocabulary, and you're not afraid to use it properly! Way to go!

Thank you so much for taking my test. I hope you enjoyed it!

For the complete Answer Key, visit my blog: http://shortredhead78.blogspot.com/.

Take The Commonly Confused Words Test at OkCupid

Your result for The Personality Defect Test...

Televangelist

You are 29% Rational, 100% Extroverted, 0% Brutal, and 57% Arrogant.

As the Lord as my witness, I swear upon the good book that you are indeed the TELEVANGELIST!

Characterized by extreme arrogance, self-assurance, and extroversion, you would make a very charismatic leader (though not a very good one). On top of that, you are also more intuitive than rational, predisposing you to a more spiritual or emotional outlook on life. Thus, you are thoroughly irrational, and you tend to think that sound logical reasoning is overrated, and that it is much better to trust your gut instincts--which must be pretty big instincts, considering the size of your gut. You also tend to be rather gentle and considerate of others' feelings. Clearly, you would make the perfect televangelist. You could easily fleece people of their money and their dignity like so many sheep. Emotional, extroverted, arrogant, and gentle, you annoy the hell out of people who have to listen to the feel-good, intuitive shit spewing from your mouth. Not only that, but people may look down on you as a self-centered asshat. So while you are gentle and genuinely care about others, it is quite clear that you still care about yourself MORE. Why is your personality flawed? Because you are too damned extroverted, emotional, and arrogant. So preach your irrational message, brotha-man! I assure you, no one will be listening. Except for a few bums. But they just want you to feed them crackers and wine.

To put it less negatively:

1. You are more INTUITIVE than rational.

2. You are more EXTROVERTED than introverted.

3. You are more GENTLE than brutal.

4. You are more ARROGANT than humble.

Your result for The What type of MAN turns you on Test...

Tough guy

You scored 85% masculine, 71% athletic, 45% exotic, and 50% refined!

You love men, you love testosterone and you know it. You like a bad-ass man who knows what he wants. He isn't what you might bring home to mom but I don't think it really matters - he's hot! Someone like.....Vin Diesel. But let's face it, the whole point of this was to look at a bunch of hot guys. If you liked what you saw, please rate my test!

Take The What type of MAN turns you on Test at OkCupid

Your result for The Brutally Honest Personality Test...

Scumbag- ENFP

60% Extraversion, 60% Intuition, 40% Thinking, 40% Judging

I have a feeling you're not going to like this much. Do I care? No. How do I know? It's because you hate criticism. You love to be loved and you'll do anything to be accepted.

Unfortunately for you, I can see right through your insincere compliments and over-the-top greetings. No matter what you do, I'll always hate you for what you are. An arrogant, unstable, overly enthusiastic scumbag.

I bet you're pretty proud of your accomplishments, huh? You seem to achieve at whatever you put your little mind too. Trust me. Nobody likes the person who is good at everything. NOBODY LIKES YOU.

This might also have something to do with the fact that you're a cheating machine. You're just not the type of person to make long-term commitments. You enjoy seeing "what could be", rather than being satisfied with "what is." This, of course, means you often leave others in the dust while you seek out another lover.

Well, at least you're not the one left in the dust.

Unfortunately, when you're the one lying in the gutter with a bloody knife in your back, you might think differently.

*****************

If you want to learn more about your personality type in a slightly less negative way, check out this.

Take The Brutally Honest Personality Test at OkCupid

Enter Sandman

I have a twofer today. (I can't believe that twofer just got through spellcheck. I am even more surprised because it just flagged spellcheck.) I forgot to blog my dream yesterday, and I had another one last night. Neither are that entertaining to me, but you all seem to like them. Give the people what they want!

Sunday night:

My dream took place in a swamp location. It was a sort of garden park, I think I was a tour guide, but I am not sure. A friend that I haven't seen in forever was there with her kids and husband. Nope, I just realized, this is WAY too close to reality. I can't tell it without giving explanations that aren't really mine to give. I will tell you that all the buildings were log structures on stilts and we rode around in boats. It reminded me a lot more of a Louisiana swamp than a Florida swamp. If it makes you feel any better, the dream wasn't about you. Seriously, this person doesn't read my blog, or I don't know that they do. I guess I should say if I know that you read my blog it isn't you. If you have been lurking here, trying to get information about me and my life without me knowing, then it might be about you. (Mine is an evil laugh!)

Monday night:

I am working as a Flight Attendant/US Marshall on an overseas flight. There are two other flight attendants and a supervisor. Which is totally bizarre because it is a normal size plane not a jumbo size and only the first 10 rows or so are filled. On the way overseas, I get into some kind of trouble over something that isn't my fault and I didn't do; I get fired anyway. I don't remember the trouble, but one of the other flight attendants (2FA), a brunette, stands up for me. So even though I still get fired, I am not disgraced and viewed as a hero, making it more of an honorable discharge. They still have to make an example of me, and can't overturn the decision. Apparently, the only concession is that I am allowed to finish my shift because I am still working on the return flight to the states. I should mention that the same passengers are also on the way back to the states. I guess we just flew over there, turned around and flew back for the fun of it.

As I am moving around the aisles, I look up to see the third, blond flight attendant (3FA) hand a styrofoam cup to her husband who is sitting in the last occupied row. I hear her tell him to take it, but not to drink it. It is filled with a liquid that is obviously supposed to resemble coffee, but is too light in color and looks more like beef broth. Then he dips his fingers in the brownish liquid and wipes it on his tie. I can't figure out what is going on, but I feel like something bad is going to happen, so I start moving to the back of the plane to circumvent whatever deviousness is about to take place. Before I can get there 3FA turns and says, "Oh, sir, you have spilled your coffee! Let me take that for you." Then she offers him a towel and starts to put the cup on her cart. But, suddenly she stops and sniffs the cup. Immediately she is yelling that the cup is actually a toxin and a terrorist is trying to booby trap the plane.

Panic ensues as 3FA builds up the drama about how someone is trying to harm her husband and he almost died and was only saved because he accidentally spilled it instead. The supervisor is now there and confirms that it is a deadly toxin and asks the man where he got the cup. He points at 2FA and says she served him. She stands there stunned for a moment before she turns to 3FA and calls her a Dog! I try to intervene and reveal what actually happened, but no one is listening because they are upset and just want the issue resolved so they can relax for the rest of the flight. Finally I realize that it doesn't matter what I say, 2FA is going to take the fall for this. I decide to stop her from arguing because at this point, she can only make matters worse and she needs to stop talking and start planning her defense.

Being a US Marshall, I take her under custody and put her in the unoccupied row behind the husband. I sit in the aisle to guard her, but am so indigent at the whole situation, I start commenting loudly to the rest of the plane. A passenger asks a question and I yell, "I don't know, why don't you punch a Dog in the mouth and see what she says." At this point, some of the passengers cheer because all of a sudden they realize that 3FA is really the bad guy.

Her husband turns around and says, "Oh, SNAP!" Then he holds out his first two fingers for me to touch in response, like a two-fingered, give-me-some-skin way. Feeling good that even he has all of a sudden switched sides, I go to give him two but I miss. It didn't seem to phase him and I was secretly relieved because my fingers were all greasy and crumby and I didn't have anywhere to wipe them off and that would have been awkward.

Next thing I know, the husband, 2FA and I are in the parking lot. I am loading my luggage into the trunk of my car. He says we should get everyone together and go support 2FA at Bronx court. In my mind, I quickly rationalize that of course it is being held at Bronx court because even though it is an international flight, that is where 2FA is from. I thought it was a great idea and I thought, "Well, that's one good thing about losing my job. I am good at organizing and now I will have time to make this happen."

Then I wake up in a satisfied, relieved state of mind that everything is working out.

Since I can't get out, my brain has obliged us by giving me another vivid dream.

It starts in a classroom upstairs in a theater type room. You were there, and you were there, and you were there! In other words, I recognized a crapload of people in this dream. My classmates are my high school graduating class, but I can only visualize the ones that were also in my 6th grade class. Everybody looks the same as I last remember seeing them, creating a weird age range. I am an adult. I know because I grabbed my purse to look for my city bus pass when class was over.

Instead of the pass, I discover the bananas I bought this week are spoiled. I am trying to figure out how they have gotten black spots while the stems are still green, when I find the three, old, rotten bananas on the very bottom of my purse. I throw out the old ones and the new bunch of five because they are spoiled. The new bunch of three aren't too bad so I keep them to freeze. In the bottom of my purse all that is left now are random cough drops and loose change covered in rotten banana. My hands are gross and I am not happy.

I get picked up by one of my previous managers. She drives to a souvenir shop in a flea market where all the stalls are mini log houses. It doesn't look like a place that would carry the blouse she is looking for, but she assures me that they have it because she called ahead. She tells us to look around at all the other shops and we will meet up later.

The dream then turned into a Lifetime movie about an eleven year old girl and her adult brother, who was mentally slow. I was just an observer.

Enter Sadistic Guy (SG). The girl and brother suddenly step from the flea market to SG's home in rural America. The little girl discovers that SG had abused the wife's invalid mother before they moved into their own home and is now beating the wife. It will only be a matter of time before he starts abusing the kids. The girl tries to get the wife to run away, but she refuses to help. In trying to save herself, she finds that the garage is the only way out. A montage of escape scenes ensue where the girl keeps trying to run away. As the door goes up we see him slowly revealed starting with his shoes. The girl is crouched on the floor waiting to run as soon as the door is high enough for her to pass under. Unfortunately she is looking back towards the house and never sees him standing there. He grabs her and takes her back into the house, always with a horribly evil leer on his face. She always had on different shoes, from flip flops to giant black rain rubbers.

She manages to get out to the front yard and talk to two guys in different sports cars and tries to get them to call 911. They tell her they can't because their New York cells will call the New York police instead of local police. I get so frustrated with their idiocy I become the girl in order to explain how 911 calls work. They tell me it is still no good because we are in the country and at this hour they would only reach an answering machine. Before I can tell them the situation, SG comes out of the house and kills both of them. I start running.

I pass the neighbor's home on the next hill because no one is home and find another house where I can see the older brother pacing in front of the window. Now that I am the little girl, I know that he is not really my brother. My parents had him come live with us because he had no where else to go. I start to go in, but another car stops and a man yells at me to not go in because the brother is the son of a murderer. His father left him the house when he died that is why he is now living there.

I try to get The Man (TM) to call 911 and he repeats the answering machine story. I tell him to call anyway so someone will come looking for us. He says he doesn't know the address of where we are, so he doesn't think it will help but calls. In the middle of leaving a message, he gets another call indicated by a flashing red light on the phone. I know that it is SG and yell at TM not to take the call. He won't listen because I am a little kid and switches over to the other line and starts shouting, "Who is this?" When he won't listen to me yelling at him to hang up, I turn and run.

When TM sees me run, he finally hangs up to come after me. I tell him that SG is coming; the 911 number must automatically call SG and that is how he got TM's number. He only called back to track the call and find us. I tell him that SG will now try to kill him and we have to get away. Before we can get into the car, we hear him driving around the corner. TM yells at me to run and hide while he deals with SG. I start running up these cliff like boulders that are all reddish brown like the southwest dessert mountains. I keep jumping from one to another trying to hide. Each one I jump to is higher and higher off of the ground.

SG drives around the corner, and looks up to see me. In my dream I get pissed because I refuse to get caught, so the scene rewinds and the boulder changes shape. I look for a place to hide. SG drives around the corner looks up and sees me. The dream rewinds five or six times before I am finally on a cliff that is really high up and has a crevice that I can slip into but can't be seen from down below. SG drives around the corner, looks up but can't see me this time and the dream continues. He starts badgering TM asking him where I am. The whole time they are circling TM's car. TM says he knows me and then says, "That B- stole my wallet when I pulled over to see if she needed a ride. That is why I called 911." He sticks to this story until the SG thinks it might be true. Then he pulls a freakin chainsaw out of his trunk and starts chasing TM with it. I am watching this and feel horrible because I am in the only place to hide, but TM won't lead him up to where I am so he has no where to run. He manages to lock himself in a wooden shed on stilts that is maybe 6 x 6.

I realize that SG will just light it on fire and in that moment, I jump into TM's body inside the shed. Through the cracks in the walls, I can see SG dousing the shed with gasoline. In my head I think that he will not hang around after the shed is on fire so if I can wait it out, I can get the little girl down from the cliff to help me. Apparently I realize that I can control both of these characters. Since I am inside his head I can see what a good person he is. I am impressed that even as the guy faces a gruesome death through fire, he doesn't say where the girl is to try and save himself.

All of a sudden the chainsaw comes through the side of the building. I leap out of the way and it disappears, only to cut through the building in a different location. I realize that he is just messing with me and is going to keep randomly thrusting the blade through the walls until he hits me. He is going in a clockwise pattern around the building, but soon he will cut in a different place trying to surprise me. When I realize that he can cut through the floor and ceiling, and that there might not be an escape, I try to reimagine the shelter to rewind the dream like I did with the rock. All of a sudden the blade comes through the wall behind me and cuts into the right side of my back. I wake up to a muscle spasm in the same place. Not a hurty one, just the muscles vibrating in reaction to the dream. It still feels a little weird.

Don't expect me to blog all my dreams I don't want them to reveal any secrets facts about me. You know, like I am actually a psychotic. Or that I am now taking prescription speed. Wait, I talked about that yesterday.

Who am I kidding, I have no secrets.

Hmm, OK

I haven't posted in a couple of days and I promised myself I would. It's just been weird. I have screwed up my neck with all my couch time, so I am in a lot of pain. Plus, I went to the doctor and he said I should be ok in a couple of weeks. I was so excited I started cleaning up the house yesterday. Which means that I woke up today exhausted and in lots of pain again. Basically I am a mess right now. Fortunately, I had the weirdest dream two nights ago. And when I woke up I wrote it all down because I wanted to look up things in a dream dictionary to find out what the heck is going on in my head. What follows is what I got up and wrote. I am feeling particularly lazy, so I read through it once to clean it up, but didn't really edit it.

I just dreamed that I was married to Brenden Fraiser and he loved my butt. Most specifically how it was placed on my body. I know because he was on David Letterman and said so. Then the dream shifted. To a wedding reception but it was a video game. I had set the time wrong so it ended at 10:00 am instead of pm and all the guests were still arriving after the game was over, so the wedding couple couldn’t leave. And then I was watching Brenden and I at the reception in real (dream) life, but his ex-fiancé, Jennifer Anisten was there with her new fiancé and it was I was all weirded out and uncomfortable. But our wedding coordinator was even more uncomfortable because Jennifer and Brenden’s last coordinator was there. I looked over and it was Fun Bobby from Friends on a bench in a tux. When you zoomed in he was talking with a horrible fake French accent to a lady. When you zoomed in closer the lady was himself in drag as Fun Bobby sober. All of a sudden it was a sitcom and you could hear the laughing in the background as the girl Fun Bobby said to herself that she had made the right choice to come to this wedding because she was taking him home. Finally a guy worth her time. But, it was all monotone and without smiling. Meanwhile, boy Fun Bobby just prattled away in the background all about how Jennifer and Brenden couldn’t make a decision to save their lives and it was horrible working for them because neither of them had an opinion and it drove him insane and he was so glad not to be working this wedding. I think he was wearing a wig that was a semi-mullet.

Upstairs. I remember the guests climbing stairs and me looking over the banister. Oh, at one point when I played the video game, Brenden was apologizing for embarrassing me on national tv and we were at my childhood home in the playroom in front of the sliding glass doors. (The tv was in front of them.) Then the back wall opened up and that was where the guests from the video game kept arriving to and then the couple (Brenden and I) had to go up stairs and escort them instead of leaving for our honeymoon which was when in turned back into real (dream) life. I remember thinking that he didn’t have to apologize because I had totally screwed up the wedding time on the invitations.

What?!

So, that’s what it is like to be in my head at night.

Where Am I?

I have very bizarre and vivid dreams. However, if I don't write them down or talk about them right away, I tend to forget them very quickly. I should have done this post earlier, but I am sick and I didn't feel like it. I will eventually feel better, so I am taking advantage of this time to do whatever I want as it hopefully will not last forever. Anyhoo, last night I dreamed about a new job. I have dreamed about at least five of my previous jobs before I actually had them.

Apparently it runs along the maternal line in my family. I know my mom dreamed about us kids before she had us and she did tell my once that Granny, her mother, had prophetic dreams as well. This doesn't mean I get every job that I dream about or that I dream about every job I get. Or even that I have an opinion about ESP or anything like that. In fact, if you were to talk to me about psychic phenomenon, I would conveniently forget this little fact about myself and tell you it is mostly crap and can be explained away, you know spiritually. So, um yeah. (Hmm, out of the crazy pan and into the fanatic fire.)

First off, I found this job in a city that I keep visiting in dream land. I am not sure where this city is and since I have been all over the country I think it is more a combo of a few different places. In my dream it is always my hometown. I apologize for any offense, but even when I am dreaming it freaks me out to think that I am back. But, this place also has elements of Portland, New Orleans French Quarter and some other nameless southern town. If you know where I grew up, I always end up in the industrial area between the city lines.

Anyhoo, I get this job working for a very charismatic sales guy. He is extremely excited about starting this new business. He has dark hair, talks with his hands in a very loud voice and looks like one of the sales guys on an infomercial. I am helping him set up his office as I am his new assistant and he keeps asking for my opinion on things. The funny thing is, I am really annoyed by all his chatter and can't wait for him to get customers so that he isn't constantly interrupting me with questions and asking my opinion. If you know me at all that is very counter-realistic as I LOVE to give my opinion on everything. So the fact that this guy is very interested in my thoughts and wants me to be involved while I just want him to go away is weird.

At one point we have this conversation about music. He asks who my favorite bands are because he wants his office to be different than other offices. When clients come in, he wants them to get a totally different feel. So, we should play unusual music in the lobby. Like his favorite bands are The Avalanches and someone else I can't remember. I am impressed by the fact that he knew who The Avalanches are. At this point, I all of a sudden want to give a good answer, but I can’t think of anything. I frantically search my brain for an artist who has more than one cd in my collection, but all I can think to tell him is Linkin Park. He gets very excited and says that is perfect. Even in my dream, I think that it is not a good idea for prospective clients, but sounds great to me since I will be working as the receptionist also and won’t be forced to listen to crap music while I stare out the window all day.

He moves on to another subject, and more to my style, I interrupt off topic and say Jimmy Eat World. He says alright, but he likes the Linkin Park idea better. This whole time I am unpacking boxes. Then I drive around a bit looking at the city. Then I wake up.

So that is it. Either Billy Mayes has randomly decided to haunt my dreams, or my dream job is to work at a start-up company selling some nameless product or service to the masses. I choose Billy Mayes, because if I ever have to work as a receptionist again, I may do harm to myself or others. And that will totally ruin any chances I have of eventually becoming a doctor. Which I really don’t want either so I guess it doesn’t matter.

Batman Calls Me Black Lightning

True story. I had a dream once that I suddenly developed the ability to fly. Once the Justice League found out about my powers they assigned a mentor to me. That mentor was Batman. It was the most amazing dream I have ever had. In order to be trained, I had to help battle the bad guys. Which totally scared the crap out of me because flying was my only power. I didn't have invincibility or anything like that, so I was constantly in a state of panic that I was going to get shot and killed. In order to avoid this I developed an attack where I would wait really high in the sky until I targeted someone. Then I would fly in as fast as I could feet first and kick the villain in the head. Then, using their head as a trampoline, I would shoot back into the stratosphere. (Imagine how people look going down a water slide, slightly panicked and rigid as a board. That was my flying pose.) I totally wore these giant think black boots (with silver buckles) so if I got shot, the only thing that they would hit were my feet and I would take less damage. This just goes to show you what a crap superhero I would be. I'm sure I would have eventually been downgraded to a side kick.

I started seeing a rapid succession of newspapers flash in front of me. You know the screen in the movies where they show the newspapers from far away and then bring them closer spinning them as they go. Then they stop the paper just short of the camera and you read only the most prominent headline then show the next spinning article coming at you. (Unless you are me and then I totally try to read the smaller headlines because occasionally someone will care enough to put a really inane one out to the side and I want to reward their attention to detail.) These headlines start flashing, "Black Lightning Interrupts Bank Heist," "Black Lightning Rescues 10 From a Fire," "Who is Black Lightning?" Except I don't think I remembered the exact titles when I woke up. I'd have to find the notebook that I wrote it all down in and I am too tired to do that right now. Anyway, I ask Batman who this new guy Black Lightning is and he just gives his "I can't believe I got stuck with someone so stupid" look and tells me that I am Black Lightning. The press had started calling me that because that was all you could see of my attacks. Batman then tells me I have officially completed my training and hands me a costume that he has constructed for me. (I say constructed because I can't imagine Batman sewing. That just seems wrong.) It is all black and a lightning insignia in the center of the chest. At which point Batman gives me the "I look all mean and harsh on the outside, but secretly I am fond of you and want you to fight on Team Batman."

It is at this point in the dream that I consider asking him to ditch Robin or pass him off to Superman. Because even in my dreams, I couldn't imagine Robin as being cool. He was insanely annoying, whiny and all goody two-shoes. I didn't like Superman either for pretty much the same reasons, but I had a grudging respect for him since he was the leader. Batman and I are crouching behind a rock on top of this cliff. Robin shows up and tells us, "It's starting." That's when the dream gets really insane, but I can't remember the details and really need to find my notebook before I go any further.

So, is this not the coolest dream ever? Even if you told me no, I would never believe you. I can't remember if I had the dream before I read Kingdom Come, or if it was recommended that I read it after I told someone my dream. Either way, it is awesome!

The point of all of this? Robin is a pansy and needs to man up or get some insanely amazing powers so that it excuses his behavior.