Dream Journal: Day Twelve

            The first dream of the night was decidedly the coolest. It was basically like if Amelie, Pushing Daisies, and Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium were made into some weird little movie. In the first dream I was some artsy type who wore cut-off overalls with jelly flats (yeah, man!) and read a lot. It was cool. Even cooler, though, was I lived in a town that was like Pacifidlog from Pokemon: Sapphire! Basically, all the houses sat on little platforms in the sea and were connected by wooden bridges. It was a little different in my dream. All the houses were all brick platforms that stuck out of the water (what a feat of engineering!), and they were all connected by stable, though kind of scary, bridges made from some dark blue rubbery material.

            So, that is the basic set-up.

            The dream begins during a rainstorm. I am at my friend Shelby’s floating house, and the pizza delivery guy just showed up. But he isn’t your typical pizza delivery guy. He is tall, handsome, and mysterious. Also, he’s like in his early 30’s, so I’d hope he isn’t still delivering pizzas especially in our coastal floating town. So while I am trying to calculate a tip (which for some reason is terribly difficult for dream-me), he acts very charming and mysterious and whatever, and then he leaves.

            So, there’s that.

            Now, one day, I am out and about on the weird rubber bridges. I decide to go for a brisk run. As I am running, I notice that the bridges begin to sway back and forth violently, and then I become pelted by rain. I turn around and see a group of people hanging alongside a cliff, and the only thing that is keeping them up is a giant rope. It is hard to explain. Suddenly the people swing out from the cliff, clutching on the rope for dear life, and one of the women gets sucked up into a TORNADO! So I basically peace out and run away.

            Then I  teleported in front of an adorable, though rustic brick house. I walk in, and the house’s foyer is not how I remembered it. It’s just a long hallway with a short staircase at one end that is blocked by a wrought iron fence. On the other side of the fence are three red, wooden doors. There is a little red panel on the right side wall, and I lift up the panel cover. There is a little screen and a keyboard. I begin typing:

            Me: Help me!

            Me: I don’t know where else to go!

            Me: Please help me :(

            Other person: Okay

            Other person: The code is 4107.

            I punch in the little code, and the wrought iron fences disappear. Then I walk over to the middle red door, and open it. There’s just a huge, dark cavern below me. Freaky. Suddenly a little cart shows up on a metal track, and I get on. It is a cross between a carnival ride and the little vehicles in Gringott’s. But definitely more carnival-ish. It has like old lions and horses and whatever on it. Vintage.

            So, in this cart there is like this giant animal contraption in front of me, and it is slowly moving towards me and squishing me in my seat. I whack at it to push it away from me.

            During this weird little cart ride I realize that the owner of this house – the pizza dude – is some super eccentric guy who has this amazing little carnival place built underneath his house (I am not sure how since we are built on top of an ocean). The cart slowly comes to a stop, and I’m impatient so I try to get out of my seat. Suddenly a SHEEP shows up, and it tries to bite me. I have to find it off, and I keep screaming at it because sheep don’t have front, upper teeth, so if it bites me it isn’t going to hurt. Luckily once the cart stopped the sheep backed off.

            When I originally get out of the cart I begin swearing loudly because I guess the cart ride was very traumatizing to dream me. But then I am suddenly surrounded by cute baby animals! In particular there is a Rottweiler puppy that I pick up and take with me. Adorable.

            I continue walking, and it basically looks like a 1920s carnival: there are marquee lights everywhere, fresco paintings, pretty horses from a merry-go-round. And then I walk into this giant ballroom, and it is sort of like the ball scene from Labyrinth meets Moulin Rouge because everyone is dressed ridiculously. Like, this is how they wait out a terrible storm: by dressing up and having a party. But the entire place was gorgeous. It was huge, and there was a warm glow about it.

            And then I woke up and had to pee.

            Next dream:

            I am at my old church for some reason, and I am sitting with my family in the front pews on the right side. And then I basically decide that this is a load of crap, and I walk out. Well, there is a funeral going on in the Fellowship Hall which is a room located right behind the main church room (whatever the proper term is). The wall separating the main church room from the Fellowship Hall can be folded to lengthen the main church room for Christmas services and whatever.

            So, anyways, there is a funeral going on, but it is a weird funeral because…they have the coffin there, but they also have a buffet set up. So, that was interesting. And they’re serving all soul food, too, so I’m pretty excited. I sign the guestbook and get a plate. That’s about all that happens.

            Then I leave the funeral, and at this point I am an adult who has been away for like 10+ years, but I have returned to survey the hometown that I haven’t particularly missed. I am walking around the church, and I am looking for someone. During this search I run into three pastors – one of whom is just some random dude, and the other two are pastors who retired probably 10+ years ago (in real life). Despite my lack of faith, we are somehow BFFs.

            I ask one of them “hey, do you know where so and so is?”

            “He teaches one of the classes here,” he responded.

            (My church also had a K-8 school attached to it – which I attended – so…basically it is hell on earth)

            I begin wandering around the school section until I found the correct room. I look in…and who do I found but Tom-motherfucking-Hiddleston. Aww yeah. I wave at him from the doorway, and he looks really upset to see me. L

            After class we talk in the hallway, and he is really upset with me because apparently I disappeared like 3-years ago without saying anything because I decided to become an adventurer (awesome, I know). So, he acts like he doesn’t want to talk to me. Whatever. I know better.

            But this is where things get weird.

            Apparently I am in either full out stalker mode or just baby, come back mode, but I am hanging around the school’s cafeteria when I decide I need to change clothes – for whatever reason. I walk into the girls’ locker room, and…apparently…there is some club for voyeurism that hangs out in there. So, I just walk to one end of the room and say “uhh, I am just here to change clothes. Leave me alone!” But then there’s this huge influx of people, all of them 40+. It is very uncomfortable. At one point some old dude with glasses walks over to me, grabs whatever garment I am holding in my hands, and then he puts his finger on my lips and says “shh!” So I basically high-tail it out of there in search of Tom Hiddleston.

            And that was my night.  

Dream Journal: Day Eleven

Last night I dreamt that my German professor was taking my class to an authentic German restaurant that was conveniently located a block away from my house (in my hometown). I kept trying to find a particular sandwich on the menu, but I didn’t see it, and I didn’t remember what it was called.

“It has Swiss cheese…and it’s on rye bread!” I told everyone.

Then my brother tried to convince me “Germans don’t eat rye bread.” 

“That’s dumb and untrue,” I replied before adding “It has Thousand Island Dressing and sauerkraut on it, too…”

Then I had to defend my affinity for sauerkraut. 

And then I woke up to use the restroom and realized “Reuben” is what I was going for. Wah wah wah. 

Dream Journal: Day Ten

Last night I had a dream that the zombie apocalypse had begun. Not really a surprise. As the leader of a band of misfits, I decided that the safest location was a remote Wal-Mart. We travelled there, killed all the zombies, and made this place our home. It took a while to complete eradicate all the zombies from the building, especially because there were a lot of windy hallways for some reason, but eventually we succeeded.

After a few days we had a nice setup. All was well in life. But then we discovered there were people trying to break into our safe haven! We had a standoff, and it turned out that their leader was Daniel Craig (James Bond). I blame Alison for talking about how hot he is at dinner. Anyways, he proposed that we join groups. I obliged.

Life is good with increased numbers and James Bond. I spend a significant time addressing Daniel Craig as “Mikael Blomkvist” (the character he played in Girl with the Dragon Tattoo) with a terrible Swedish accent.

BUT THEN TRAGEDY STRIKES. One day I am exploring the loading bay (or whatever it is called…where all the semi-trucks drop off goods) with a few other trusted buddies, and some weird witchcraft occurs. A giant metal door closes, and I get locked outside. I fight zombies off with a gun and a sword (this time not a katana, but an Elven blade!). Then a woman in a weird van-tank-hybrid rescues/kidnaps me and takes me to her lair. She says she has been watching us, and she plans to destroy our Wal-Mart! That bitch.

She keeps me captive for awhile, and one day while she is gone I find a pair of walkie talkies. I switch the frequency from 45 to 17 (I specifically remember doing this) and attempt to contact my friends in Wal-Mart. I am able to get ahold of someone, and I just burst into tears because apparently I’ve been beaten by the woman and her team, and I am so downtrodden. Somehow, though, I am able to channel my inner Beatrix Kiddo, and I fight my way out with my bare hands! (At this point I am in more of a weird lab facility instead of a van-tank-hybrid; I am not sure at what point the location changed to the other)

I escape and begin running towards Wal-Mart, but then – THEN – Michonne (from The Walking Dead) falls out of the sky, and apparently she has been cloned and programmed to kill me on sight. So we have a battle – katana versus Elven blade – and I end up victorious after I slice her head off.

With all obstacles out of my way, I enter Wal-Mart expecting to see old friends and Daniel Craig. But instead I see nothing but dead bodies! Apparently some strange disease swept through the entire facility, killing them. =[ And thus, I am alone once more.

Dream Journal: Day Nine

Last night I had a particularly strange and terrifying dream.

I was married to some fellow who strangely resembled a slightly classier, more intelligent version of Jason Segel. He was a scientist/doctor. This was way back in the day, too. Probably the 1960’s. So all I did was look pretty and plan parties and fun shit. 

Well, we were having a party, and it was off the hook, man. We decided to go swimming because we had a pool, so I excuse myself to go inside to change into my bathing suit (which is a black and white chevron swimsuit, I brag to someone). 

I enter the house, and it’s super modern looking. Not like 2012 modern looking, but 1960 modern looking. It’s also pretty much a Labyrinth. There are so many rooms! As I get deeper into the house, the rooms become empty and bare. Then I get stuck in a room, and the door behind slams shut and locks. WTF. There are about 6 other doors in the room, so I try them all….and what do you know. Behind each door is a GURNEY AND SURGICAL EQUIPMENT AND OH MY GOD I MARRIED THE DOCTOR FROM THE HUMAN CENTIPEDE OR THE FARMER FROM BABE WHO IS ALSO A NAZI DOCTOR IN AHS. I DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR THIS WHEN I GOT MARRIED. Or when I traversed into the house. I just wanted to find my bathing suit. :(

Then my crazy doctor, possibly Nazi husband shows up. At this point I am really re-thinking my life choices. Also, I speak terrible German, so he’s probably going to kill me. Then I tell him his dumb security system (which apparently locked me in this room) is on the fritz again. He laughs and says he’s working on it. All is well in the Crazy Doctor and Housewife household. 

We return outside where they’ve been playing some weird game. A couple people lose the game and are forced into sitting on the sidelines. Then my dashing husband announces that anyone who loses the game is going to be taken to his laboratory to be dissected/experimented on/whatever scientists do. 

Uhh.

No one seems all that surprised by this news. Like, it’s just part of the package when you come to our raging parties. 

During the chaos of corralling the new test subjects, I start puking and my knees give out. My doctor husband begins freaking out because apparently he really does love me. Then I announce nonchalantly to everyone “I’m pregnant.” It’s a mother’s intuition, I guess.

Then my stomach blows up to the size of a large corgi, and I go into labor right then and there. Bam bam bam.  

Then fast forward to me sitting on a train. This is in the future, and I’m a totally different character. I am chatting with some woman on the train who strangely resembles Laura Dern from Jurassic Park, and we begin talking about some book we recently read about this weirdo doctor and his wife. Apparently there were complications during the labor, and either the baby died or the wife died, but the doctor husband tried to keep whichever one died alive by, I don’t know, going all Frankenstein’s Monster. And then they were all “they were such a perfect couple, they worked like a team, and their family business was so successful.” Family business of mutilating their party guests!!

Analysis: I like to live on the wild side. Also, AHS is slowly taking over my dreams.

Dream Journal: Nap Edition

I had a Star Trek dream. Yup. I was the Captain on a ship, and I was putting together a crew. Pretty much, I was awkwardly reeling through all characters I knew from Voyager and Next Generation. And then I was like “we also have to have Anton Yelchin. I don’t care if he isn’t actually a Starfleet officer. He was in the movie and that’s good enough for me.” And then I told everyone I wanted Tattoo, but no one knew who I was talking about. “He has the tattoo!! On his face!! Come on!” 

Then I told them Captain Janeway was going to be on the crew, and I told them that since she has already been the captain of a ship they should listen to her because I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. 

Then somebody suggested Spock, but I said no because he’s a fucking ghost (on AHS) and I will not allow ghosts on my fucking ship. 

Dreams: Day Eight

It was a rather bittersweet dream, but the ending was awesome! 

The dream began at my church. I guess I would call it “my church” despite the fact I haven’t gone to church in five years, and despite the fact I’m not religious. But I was wandering around the section where the school connects to the church, and I was looking at my phone, and some woman started criticizing me. I tried to tell her that I obviously do not look like a middle school student, but she wouldn’t hear any of it. Finally I told her I was there for a funeral.

Then I walked into the lobby where people from my extended family were gathering. I kept thinking “why are we having the visitation and service here? The funeral home would have done a way better job. Plus we don’t go to church.” Also, the funeral home would have provided us with a tray of sandwiches and cookies.

Funeral home: 1 
God: 0

For awhile I awkwardly wandered the lobby, but then people started arriving. A lot of people. And they all tried to offer me their condolences. Then I realized who had died: my dad! Isn’t that so sad? I walked into the…shit, I can’t even think of its actual name…There’s a room directly behind the actual “church room” (isn’t my terminology great?) where Monday night services and potlucks are held. It has a name…oh well, not important.

I walked into the room where there was a buffet set up (fancy). There was also a video being projected onto the wall, and I guess it chronicled the life of my dad. The pictures looked like they were set in the 1800s though. 

Anyways, I started getting really emotional, so I ran out of the room. I walked out of the lobby into a hallway — past the offices, past the music room (where the kids at the school part have music and drama class — those were the worst). At the end of the hallway stood a tall drink of water. I pretty much ran towards him and hugged him. We had a beautiful embrace! And IT WAS TOM HIDDLESTON. Fuck yeah! Dream me FTW! Get it, girl!

I think I started crying more because I was so moved that he would be there. So I was like “well, I guess this is as good a time to introduce you to my family.” But then I woke up because my dumbass dog’s belly kept gurgling. Fuck you, Puffin. 

Analysis: Death and Tom Hiddleston follow me everywhere I go. 

Dreams: Day Seven

I blame this dream on spending an hour last night researching Jurassic Park 4 and sending weird pictures of Jeff Goldblum to Becca and Jennifer.

The dream started off at my house. I was packing stuff up to go on a family vacation — or at least I thought it was a family vacation. Because after I loaded my stuff into the car, I teleported to the YMCA. Lame. While at the YMCA I’m wandering around the track with a girl who’s a little older than me. It turns out, her father is Jeff Goldblum, and he is dating my mother. Weird. We finally stop walking because we hear a commotion behind us. My mother and Jeff Goldblum had been walking the track, but now they’re getting into a huge argument. My mom is apparently really mad that he plans on going back to Isla Nublar (or is it Isla Sorna?). So they break up, and everyone on the track is staring at them.

I’m super embarrassed and kind of upset, so I run outside and sit on the curb in the parking lot. Then my mom comes outside and assures me everything will be alright. WRONG!

Because in my next dream, I’m watching Jeff Goldblum’s fictional college-aged daughter agree to set him up with one of her young professors — me. So. Yeah. That’s kind of weird. Plus it sucks that I’m a college professor. I mean, come on. I would hate that. I would be broke, and I would hate my life.

But he has a really nice house. It’s full of rich mahogany and worldly items. It’s like the house an old British explorer would have if he lived during the early 1900s — and if he was also a successful hunter and literary figure. 

Apparently, it’s also the house that Jeff Goldblum would live in in my dreams.

So I show up at his front door. I guess I’m a young 30-something lady. I’m glad my dream-self is 10 years older than real-self because Jeff Goldblum is in his late 50s. But there’s still almost a 30 year difference. Oh well.

I ring the doorbell and introduce myself. Apparently I teach literature and film classes at the local college (which is somewhere on the east coast) but only until my student debt is repaid. After that I was planning on moving to Los Angeles to break into the film biz. 

He leads me to his living room where I take a seat in a comfy armchair. Then I suddenly freeze up and say, “Hopefully this isn’t a dealbreaker for you, but I have two Corgis.” God, my dream-self fucking rocks. He seems cool with it. We get to know each other, blah blah blah, boring. Then we begin making dinner. I tell him I’m pretty much the grill master, and I offer to prepare and grill the salmon. I forgot to wash my hands, though! How gross! He probably seriously judged me while I slathered olive oil and pepper onto the salmon with dirty hands.

Then I realize I have entirely coated the salmon with pepper. Also gross. I try to inconspicuously wipe the excess pepper off, but he also probably notices that too. 

I am assuming my failed attempts at making salmon lead to the next scene…

We are sitting on the couch (bow chicka wow wow) when suddenly he starts yelling at me. He tells me I have to get rid of my Corgis, and then he says I can’t do anything right. :( Then I yell at him and say “fine, I’m leaving then!” But he says I can’t leave! He forcibly restricts me to the couch, and I can’t even get up after he’s left. Like, I am stapled to the couch or something. 

And then I freak out because I think “I have made a terrible mistake. He could be some psychopath!” And then I begin thinking about Pulp Fiction and The Gimp and how terrible it would be to be a sex slave locked up in the basement. Especially if I have to wear hot leather all the time. That would be so uncomfortable. But then I begin thinking about the Rubber Man, but I feel no pity for him because 1) He’s a ghost and 2) He’s an asshole rapist murderer and 3) I just hate Tate in general.

But then I think I develop Stockholm Syndrome…so that’s alarming to say the least.

Das Ende.

Analysis: Jeff Goldblum has joined the long list of male celebrities (Nathan Fillion, David Tennant, Richard Armitage, Christian Bale, Julian Assange [okay, he isn’t really a celebrity, but still]) who have tried to kill me/rape me/control me/vanquish me from Skyrim (David Tennant was part of the Dawnguard in that one dream, and I was a Vampire Lord). 

I might have a problem. 

Dreams: Day Six

I was at my old middle school when suddenly I saw Rufus Sewell, the bad guy from A Knight’s Tale. I suddenly thought, “Oh my god, I need to tell Heath Ledger!” So I frantically searched the building looking for him while I put on a disguise — a huge ass hoop skirt dress from the 1800s (yeah, I know, not when the movie took place…dumb dream). 

Then I walked into the gym where people were ballroom dancing, so I figured I would give it a try. I didn’t know how to ballroom dance though. Wah wah wah. Luckily, Colin Firth was at hand — obviously he is the master of ballroom dancing. But then he started doing some disco shuffle move to ABBA’s “Dancing Queen”. I realized in that instant that my cover was blown. 

Fun fact: the title “The Knight’s Tale” is from Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. And I start my class on Chaucer today!

Dreams: Day Five

I dreamt that I was lying in a pool on a raft, and Chris Hemsworth was lying on a different raft in the same pool. The entire time I kept telling him, “If you have to get back to Asgard that’s totally cool, I understand.” But then I started asking him “Where’s Mark Ruffalo? Why isn’t he here? This doesn’t make any sense!” And I started freaking out. I don’t even know why. I mean, I am pretty impartial to Mark Ruffalo. 

In my second dream, I had like 12 siblings, and they all died. My mom died too. And I came home and found my dad crying in the kitchen, and I realized that from now on I’d have to cook, clean, take care of the dogs, and get a good job because my dad would be an emotional wreck from here on out. I offered to make breakfast burritos. 

My dreams went downhill quickly. 

Dreams: Day Four

Last night I dreamt I was teaching my brother how to tie-dye. Which is hilarious because that would never happen in real life because he’s typically a doooouche. But maybe my subconscious really yearns for a kind brother who wants to learn the art of tie dying. 

No analysis is even required for this dream, bro.