Vampire Weekend, hobo calls, and double dogs

Last night’s dream: I was at a county fair in Davenport, NE, where Vampire Weekend, the middle Hanson brother (now known as Rory), and a bluegrass band teamed up to do a televised musical sketch show filmed in someone’s front yard. It was actually pretty good, musically, and the trampoline tricks were impressive.
Then a hobo called me on a walkie-talkie that looked like an old-timey phone where just the earpiece is on a cord. He was only a couple blocks away and I could see him watching me as I decided whether to ignore the call. He creeped me out so I hung up on him, sent my dad to go see what he needed, and walked home to find some shoes since the pavement was very hot on my bare feet. I walked past a barber shop where a lady was getting a fancy, modern updo by an old man barber.
Later I went with a friend to buy some fair food. One stand had double corndogs. You know those frozen popsicles that come two in a package and are connected on one side? That's how these corndogs were. (Awesome, by the way. I need to see these at the state fair next year. Someone get on that. Call 'em Double Dogs or something.)
I realized I lost my purse so couldn't buy anything, which was disappointing since I really wanted to experience those corndogs. However, two women at this food stand had gotten into a yelling match about one of their men or houses or hairdos (or all three), and I felt silly trying to politely ignore them when they were being so white-trash-ridiculous with their anger. It was a relief to get out of there. And don't worry: someone had found my purse and turned it in intact. It was pretty ugly.

You may or may not be aware that there are women's deodorants that claim to "minimize the visual appearance of hair over time."
In a recent dream, I saw a commercial for a deodorant that professed to do the opposite.
"Increases dark, bushy hair growth to help keep you warm on those long winter nights!"
I doubted the legitimacy and usefulness of this product.

Gas station meat and I'm not pretty

When I contemplated starting a blog of my dreams, I had some fears about it.  Primarily, I was afraid that, in defiance, my subconscious (or the Sandman or the BFG) would either stop supplying me with fantastic dreams or make them extremely banal (as in the case of my friend who has nightmares consisting of being unable to balance his checkbook).  It seems, however, that the opposite has happened.  My dreams are so complex most nights that it is terribly difficult to even put them into words when I wake up, much less record them in a way that makes sense.  I'm still going to try to write bits of them, but I guess I need to realize and accept that it's not going to work for me to tell all dreams in story form.

That said, here's last night's:
It included my boyfriend not liking me, and then later an ex-boyfriend also didn't like me (clarification: wouldn't have sex with me).  Someone random explained to me that I'm not pretty, using mathematical proofs and diagrams to explain this fact.  There was also a sad elephant, which is always horribly depressing.
Nearer to the end, the theme was me, boyfriend (who would spontaneously turn into the ex from earlier in the dream and then back into himself), and my younger brother visiting a gas station.  We bought two packages of raw meat, which Ex-bf ate a couple of handfuls of.  Somehow I managed not to throw up all over the counter when he did that.
I also had to work to convince my brother that he didn't need to buy two travel-sized tubes of toothpaste.  I think he still bought one, though in awake-world-retrospect, he didn't need that.  Come to think of it, buying opened packages of raw ground beef wasn't the best idea either.

I don't remember many details from last night's dream other than the ending fragments.

I was watching a country-rock-opera about Jesus, and it was called something like "Saviory" or some variation of a Jesus title combined with the word 'country.'  The name was in red script, covered in lightbulbs.  That was the backdrop when the curtain rose.

death, muppets, and hand puppets

This dream was weird with a capital EEEEE. Bear with my writing here. I typed quickly to get as many details as I could before they disappeared.


there were three muppet-like characters, all female.  they had been research subjects in a lab, at which point they were small children.  some friends and I had ridden a mini bullet train (it moved slowly, but was sleek and black) through the large building containing the lab, shops, and a stage area, to show off.  we rode through stadium seating where dozens of people were waiting for something to happen on a catwalk-like stage.  my friends and i sat in the open-topped mini cars acting like we didn’t know we were the center of attention and trying to be nonchalantly cool.
back to the muppet things.  they were able to escape while everyone’s attention was on us and our train.
when the creatures were in the lab, they were small children, and ghostly-looking.  very pale, almost translucent skin, and looked like they hadn't been fed enough. they had large, dark, creepy eyes, and no expressions on their faces.  when we came through on the train, they escaped their cages, and they somehow weren’t seen while researchers were running around looking for them.

the train and my friends disappeared from the dream at this point.  then i turned into a 30-something man.

i was in trouble, i figured, for my part in the escape, so i tried to lay low.i was sitting in the same room or hallway as the three test subject children.  suddenly i was reading a printout that was a couple pages long and it got pretty eerie.  it was a story about myself.  in the middle of the last page, it started talking about how, because i had inadvertently helped the kids/test subjects escape, i was going to die.  i read about a bright red stain spreading on my shirt.  then the story went back to me worrying about getting in trouble for accidentally helping with the escape, but every few words would be something like: IT HURTS. then more words. then: THE RED IS SPREADING.  and other creepy things that eventually turned into YOU WILL DIE. YOU WILL DIE.  YOU ARE DYING.  these were between every other sentence in the narrative.  the font of these sentences was bold, and then bold and red, then highlighted in red and larger text.  there were about 20 variations of the message that I was in pain and dying. 
of course, as i read it, i was trying to ignore the fact that there was indeed a bright red stain on my chest, and it was spreading.
then i decided the best thing to do might be to pretend the document was correct (i thought this might make the omen nullified or something) and i pretended to be dead.  this ruse consisted of kneeling on a chair that was in a row of chairs against a wall, sitting under a chrome, wall-mounted coat rack. i hooked my fingers through a couple of the bars of the coat rack and slumped my head down on my chest with my eyes closed, and tried to breathe very shallowly.
sure enough, one of the main scientists walked into the room/hallway then.  he was angry, and muttering about the situation, then he stopped and saw me.  he looked at me for a couple of seconds, then left without caring about my condition.
at that point, the ghosty kids turned into muppet-like creatures.  they were still across the room from me, looking at me with concern.  i realized that i actually did have a bit of pain coming from what i assumed was a wound in my chest.  i looked back at the three creatures helplessly, let go of the coat rack, but didn’t know what to do.  then the one in the middle who was a cross between Miss Piggy and Janice (she had a busybody personality, but was well-meaning and orange), ran forward and hugged me.  when she let go, the red on my shirt was gone and i felt fine, even energized.  the orange gal watched me with concern, evaluating how i felt.
at that point i realized i needed to get those three out of there because they had something special going on with them, and were being hidden and probably mistreated by the scientists who were researching their powers.
the world needed these muppet gifts!
i got out of the building with them because they had a jedi-like power of persuasion.  when guards or scientists encountered us, I would either stand around, waiting to be noticed, or walk directly toward them while muttering to my fuzzy friends out of the corner of my mouth.
“do something. do something now!  they see me!  they’re going to take me away!  use your powers or whatever!”
the trio would say something, or do a magical gesture, and a variety of effects occurred.  either they’d be invisible to the guards, or the guards would believe anything we told them, or they’d just become total idiots and we’d walk right past.  there was at least one interaction that was very much “these are not the droids you seek,” but it was more like “this guy is totally okay, and the scientists want him to do whatever he wants, especially if that is walking out of the building.”
so we got out and ended up on a grassy lawn in front of an old cathedral.  the muppets went inside while i stood around outside and waited for them to complete their mission, or do whatever they had to do in there.
meanwhile a family of about 9 people, seniors through small kids, showed up and wanted to tour the church.  i waylaid them, making them sit on the lawn while i improvised a puppet show.  unfortunately, i didn’t have any puppets, so i used my hands as if i were making shadow puppets.  it was horrible. i was just holding my hands in weird positions in front of the audience, not even trying to cast a shadow.  i couldn’t remember how to make anything once i started to perform (i use that term loosely).  i tried making a dog, which i can do in real life, but it just wouldn’t work.  then i pretended i was making fancy shapes and just fiddled around with my hands, counting on the fact that each observer would assume he or she was the only one just not seeing it.  it was basically an ‘Emperor’s New Clothes’ approach.  eventually i just used my hand as a puppet mouth and made it talk to the group in stupid voices.

i think my three fuzzy friends came out of the cathedral at some point so we could regroup and make a new plan.

then the dream changed or i woke up.

performing with elephants

**Here's another blog post import from a past blog.**

7/10/11

I dreamed I was in a sketch comedy stage show for schoolkids. The cast was roughly 30 people. In the sketch about invasions, my line, delivered in a ridiculously whiny voice, was, "But Rome never let us leave last time!"
I have no idea what that is about.
There were also animals for the circus sketch: I found three baby elephants wandering around and was overjoyed.
They were about the size of baby goats when I found them, but they could shrink even smaller to be the size of dimes. When they were that small, they were just images of elephants on round white erasers. This delighted me, since it meant I could carry them everywhere in my pocket! However, because I didn't understand what magic made the elephants able to do this, I wasn't sure that they wouldn't get squished or suffocate in my pocket. My solution was to tie the erasers together (as if they were marching trunk-to-tail) and carry the trio in my outstretched palm.
The trick to getting the calves to grow again was simple: love them.  When it was time to rehearse the animal skit, I laid the erasers in a line in the floor backstage. Kneeling down, I put my face close to the first eraser. I whispered loving affirmations to the tiny elephant while petting him and slowly he grew, with the others following.
This took place a few times during the course of rehearsals and the performance. I eventually tried paying as much attention to the second and third babies, since I noticed they didn't seem to be getting quite as large as they were when I found them.
The guilt of neglecting elephant calves is heart-shattering.
Somehow, yarrow plants also featured, with mythical alpaca-like animals who survived on them. They were too unpredictable to have in our stage show.

soccer beans

**This is an imported post of another long-ago dream.**

3/2/11

Last night's dream was some kind of photo shoot involving beans and a soccer ball.
I believe the idea was to make it look like the beans (which were almost lima beans, but slightly smaller and not green) were playing soccer.  The soccer ball was regulation size for humans, though, so the set-up included lots of trick wires and some fishing line.  I remember that there were a couple little beans on the ground, standing upright, and one hovering on top of the soccer ball at an angle. I think that bean was getting ready to kick a goal.

I'm pretty sure that I happened upon this scene, which was set up in a warehouse or photo-shoot-y type environment.  But once I was there, I was in charge.  Quite an interesting responsibility to have thrust upon oneself.  I'm still considering trying to do this shoot someday.

time-travelling wedding crasher orgies

**This is a post from another blog I write in extremely sporadically.  It's pertinent to this one, though, so I brought it over.  No, I'm not sharing my other blog with you.**

2/2/11
Yesterday, my grood friend sent me this link.  We both enjoy the comics of Toothpaste for Dinner, and this one was pertinent since I have always had bizarrely intricate dreams that I sometimes enjoy sharing with friends.  She did say that she doesn't necessarily agree with the comic in regards to me, but it was topical for us nonetheless.

Apparently my subconscious was feeling defiant after reading that TFD comic yesterday and tried to one-up itself.

I dreamed that I was a sixteen year-old Latina who was wedding crashing in order to find my time machine somewhere in the giant cathedral. I carried two bouquets of white roses, ostensibly to blend in, but they were some kind of magical power source for the time machine. You know how Latino weddings are -- anyone in a dress and carrying flowers blends in. I explored the upper stories of the building, finding bed-and-breakfast-style bedrooms and sitting areas, and then decided to have an orgy with four old men. Yeah. Gross. It was even gross in the dream. I started with one and then told him to send two in the next time. Of course, the second two weren't old anymore and were now semi-attractive, but still creepy that they were willing to do this. I didn't even get to try though, because my dream-mother and aunt came in, but they were only in their early 20s, since the time machine worked for them and I technically hadn't been born yet. My mother concluded that it was rape and sent my aunt, who was some kind of social worker or social justice advocate, away to get the papers to press charges. I was too ashamed (and bewildered) by my willingness to participate in the elderly orgy to admit the truth, and I knew I was going to ruin the lives of these men. I felt horribly confused and guilty, then woke up.
Of course, the fourth man that wasn't even naked in the room at the time was the one who looked like Ted Danson, who I would have most enjoyed orgying with.

**Postscript: in re-reading this, I realize you may think that this dream was very graphic in its adult content.  It wasn't.**

The Persistent Bison

When I was twelve and in seventh grade, my family lived in an apartment building.  I remember having a recurring nightmare there, though I have no idea what caused it.

Here’s how it usually went:

I’m playing outside on the complex’s playground, swinging or something.  Across the adjoining soccer field, I see a bison.  He’s just standing there, looking at me.  
Weird, I think.  Sort of creepy, but I’ll pretend I feel fine and keep swinging.
In a minute, I look back over my shoulder and the bison has moved closer.
Repeat that sequence of events once more.  The bison isn’t moving when I look at him; he’s just standing closer, facing me.
Okay, freaky.  These animals are not to be trifled with, I know.  They’re gigantic, strong, and have not been known to exhibit signs of empathy that other species have. So, I get off the swing and try to walk quickly and unobtrusively to the security door that opens into a stairwell of the U-shaped building.  Unfortunately, I experience the moving-through-waist-deep-water sensation that most of us have experienced in dreams.  It is impossible to run.  Without looking back, I know the bison is following me.  I sense him looming, though I don’t remember now whether I could hear his footsteps.
By the time I reach the stairwell door, I can hear him breathing.  The door is the kind that you have to put the key in, turn it, and hold it turned while you pull the door open.  It’s a fire door, so it’s heavy, too.  I fumble with the keys a bit as I try to determine which key on my keyring is the outside door key and which opens my family’s apartment.  At least my hands don’t move in slow motion, though they’re shaking with fear.  I can feel the heat of the bison’s exhalations on the back of my head and neck as I finally get the door open just enough for me to slip through, and I pull it shut behind me before he can wedge his big snout in the way.
Whew.
I’m safe.  However, my heart is beating at a panicky rate, and I am worried about the safety of my family.  No time to stop and rest.  I start down the hallway to get to either the elevator or the stairway that is closer to my family’s third-floor apartment.  Augh: I still can’t run.  I wade through the molasses-like air, going straight down the hallway, past all the closed apartment doors.  Suddenly, my seventh-gradey senses are on high alert, and I shoot a glance over my shoulder.
The bison is inside the hallway.
He is at the end of the hall, about 15 yards behind me, just standing there, staring at me with his saucer-sized eyes.
Holy crap.  I struggle to move faster, which makes a microscopic improvement.
At this point in the dream, my route to my apartment varies.  Basically, I try to lose the bison by going up stairs, down stairs, and loop back and forth through the building in an attempt not to lead him directly to my home and family.  (Picture one of the chase scenes in Scooby-Doo, but mute the silly music and make the whole thing ridiculously frightening.)
Sometimes the animal walks, but he never hurries. I know he’s diligently plodding after me, gaining on me without running.  Sometimes he just continues to move closer without me being aware of his walking.

I feel terrified and helpless. I have no idea what the animal will do when he reaches me, but he’s clearly not my friend.


I think that the dream usually ended while the bison pursued me.  I don’t remember ever reaching my apartment and feeling that it was safe to go inside.  I think there were times when I made it to the door only to see that the giant animal was either in front of me at the end of the hallway, or behind me, and since I didn’t want him to know where I lived, I struggled on in my attempt to lose him. I never knew how he was opening the doors.  I’m pretty sure he didn’t need to do anything manually, and was just on the other side of them when he wanted to be.  I also don’t think I ever took the elevator.  I can only imagine the petrifying terror of seeing the doors slowly open to a huge bison head blocking my exit.  It still makes me shudder.
This dream occurred over a period of 2 or 3 weeks.  A couple of times I remember going to wake my mom or dad up in the middle of the night after I’d had the nightmare, to get a dose of reality and seek reassuring words from them.  It felt silly, but I knew it comforted me when I was little, so I was up for anything to get the nightmare out of my head.