Friday, April 1, 2011

Casino Zombies

A few weeks ago, I had this dream, and only remembered it today.

I had just pulled of a successful heist, and was trying to get out of the country. I knew I had very limited time, but I had a plan, and it was exhilarating. I went to a casino, where I was to meet up with a connection of mine, who was waiting for me with a new ID. I worried about getting into what looked like a high school dance, but then I realized, the doorman is in on it. My ID won't matter. So I go through a horribly ugly casino/hotel hallway, and enter a room. There is my friend waiting for me, and we look at the ID and it looks nothing like me.

We decide that rather than putting my picture on the ID, the best thing to do would be to make me look more like the girl in the ID. That way, the ID card itself isn't compromised. So she starts cutting my hair (apparently in this dream, I started with long hair. It's hard to know these things when you're looking out of your own eyes rather than watching it all happen). While she's hacking away mercilessly, I hear a loud and regular thumping coming from the hallway. I go to see what's going on, because I'm fairly anxious about the whole escaping-from-a-crime thing. I open the door and look into the hotel hallway, and see that, of course, it's zombies.

I remember that there's been a zombie Apocalypse, but I'm not really worried, because it was so long ago that the zombies are ineffective and pathetic at this point. They look like rubber Halloween masks, all empty and jiggly, only they're attached to bodies and crawling very slowly on the floor. An old couple walks down the hallway and carelessly dodge the crawling zombies. I go back into the room, satisfied that the noises were nothing to worry about, and go back to my disguise.


Sunday, March 27, 2011

I forgot I had a Blog

Hello No One,

It's been a while.

It's odd how quickly time passes when you aren't paying attention. It's really too bad, as I've had a lot of terrible dreams based on anxiety, insecurity and cartoons of late. They would have made for great reading. Unfortunately, I have retained too few details to bother trying to put them together for your entertainment this evening.

However, I officially declare this to be the re-beginning of my subconscious mining. I just made up a lot of phrases there...


Tuesday, November 30, 2010


So finally I remember a dream.

I'm on my way to a demolition derby, where I will be singing, with my brother, Jamie, and Chris Cornell. We're a band, and we sing Soundgarden songs. I'm pretty nervous, because I'm the singer, even though Chris Cornell is in my band. For the record, it was early 90s Cornell, long hair but no moustache.

I'm getting ready for the show, doing my make up and hair etc, and Jamie is bugging me because I haven't been practicing. We're running out of time before going on and I'm getting really anxious. I think "Man, I hate public speaking, how the hell am I going to get in front of a crowd and sing. I can't even sing." Jamie says "Well maybe next time you can worry less about the whole (waves his arms at my head) visual part and more about the performing part".

I realize that I don't even really know all the words to any Soundgarden songs. I keep trying to think of all the words to Fell on Black Days and can't get past the chorus. So then I think "Well maybe I can just have lyric sheets." I start worrying that I can't really sing, and my rationale is "But I like playing Rock Band. This is just like that." I start to try and sing some of Fell on Black Days, and it doesn't go very well. I say "What if Chris sings? I mean, he's IN Soundgarden. I'll just be the back up singer." Jamie says "But Chris is playing the drums." I start thinking about Soundgarden songs, and figure that Black Hole Sun might be the only song I actually know the words to, but I still don't think I can get out there and sing it for a bunch of people.

We're out of time, and have to go on. I look at myself in the mirror and freak out because I'm not wearing mascara so my eyes look tiny.

The End.

I'm sorry Chris Cornell.

Friday, November 5, 2010


Again, lack of remembrance.

A list of vague dreamemories.

Rain in the dark, turning into snow, and being very excited about it, with a group of randoms.

Trying to pack up my old house in Williams Lake. Throwing clothes to keep into a garbage bag and being overwhelmed by the amount of work ahead of me. Then remembering I can do magic, and using my wand to finish. (I fell asleep reading Harry Potter). I'm fairly sure this was an awesome dream and I really wish I could remember the rest.

Being on some kind of mystery / investigation in a big scary house. I suspect this was the same dream as the snow dream, because it felt the same and it was night.

Thursday, October 28, 2010


The dream starts out with me going with some guy, not Benn, but someone... to a Science World-y type place. Admission gates, arrows on the floor, high ceilings, concessions etc., fill this enormous circular room. The guy and I go and sit in this weird video game type thing, with a bench seat in it behind the control panel. Of course, because it's a dream and it's full of insecurities and frustrations, I don't fit in the damn seat. This is why I think it was some place for kids. Or perhaps I was immensely fat in this dream... Let's not think about it.

My mom arrives and the three of us head to a concession stand. The guy and my mom get hot dogs and try to pressure me into getting one too. I argue with them, saying that they'll make me sick. We all walk through a door and it leads to a mall. While they eat their hot dogs, I wander over to the Gap. Once inside, it's really Sephora. I start browsing around and I see that they have palettes for $20. I think of two ladies who would like them, so I get two, for Christmas. My mom arrives and we head to the till.

Once at the till, the till becomes a bar, and I'm waiting for some incompetent waitress to finish at her table so she can ring me in. Their table is obviously annoyed with her. She walks behind the bar, slips in something and totally gumbys to the floor. It's really pretty impressive. I ask if she's okay, and she assures me it happens a lot. Some other guy arrives near a till and starts to ring me in. He screws it up somehow and has to undo whatever it was that he did. He undercharges me, but then shorts me on change so it works out about right. Then he walks away, leaving me with these two things on the counter and for some reason, a huge thermos has appeared on the counter. I ask him for a bag and he says "oh sure" and walks away. My mom and I start exchanging looks of irritation. After a while, it's clear that he's not coming back. So I ask some other guy for a bag, and he says the same thing, but does nothing. I'm totally pissed now, and wondering why the hell these douchey shmoes are working at Sephora in the first place. They aren't the make up artist type of guys. They're the sport bar type of guys.

Then Marty, some local musician for some band I can't remember at the moment, gets in line and my mom says something about still waiting for a bag. Marty goes behind the counter (apparently he works there but today is his day off) and starts bagging my makeup, and empties out my thermos into a sink. I tell him that's my thermos and he puts it into the bag. He's totally nice and cool and my mom and I are just happy that someone competent has helped us, even more impressively, on his day off.

That's all I remember. It's not a very good dream, but it's the only one I remember.


That's my new word. It means frustration with daily blogging.

You see, the problem is that I haven't been able to remember any dreams for the last few days. I know I'm dreaming, but the faint traces left in the morning have been escaping me. I suppose this is how everyone else experiences dreaming.

Perhaps this is just one of life's ironies. I've always remembered my dreams. Until I wanted to. Bah.

So today, here are the fragments I've remembered from the last few days, in no particular order.

A blue flip flop.
Getting mad at a grey cat.
Losing my debit card. (This also happened in real life)
Watching myself walk downhill on a sidewalk, as if I were walking towards viewing-me.

That last one reminds me. Most of my dreams are viewed from the outside, as though I'm watching myself, with minor flashes of point-of-view. Personally, I blame television for causing my brain to think in scenes.

Friday, October 22, 2010

Legally Obligated Furniture

You know, I'm having a lot of trouble settling on a tense for recording my dreams. So I apologize for any variances in each post or throughout the blog itself. It's kind of an odd thing to be recording.

Okay, so the dream starts in my current apartment, and I'm apparently still living with my old roommate Nick. Which is silly, because it's a one bedroom... Anyways, our other roommate (again, one bedroom) has moved out in protest of our lack of furniture. (Reality note: up until last week, the only living room furniture I had was the worst love seat ever). For some reason, this is very upsetting to us.

Then my mom shows up with a rocking chair (this really happened last week) and the couch from her house (not real but I wish it were). Somehow my dining room gains chairs. Nick and I realize we could go get our roommate back. Out of nowhere, we pull a contract. We set up a meeting with the ex-roommate, and we trick him into meeting us. For some reason, we don't want to tell him what the meeting is really for, and there is a tone of subterfuge.

We meet the roommate, who by the way, is not a person I know in real life as far as I can remember, on a park bench. I carefully broach the subject of him moving back in, implying that he is legally obligated, as he left due to the furniture situation, which has been fixed. I never flat out say that he has to, but I am thinking the whole time that it was very important that he believes me. The roommate is hesitant and I tell him that even if he just signs the contract, Nick and I can get our tax breaks. I explain how comfortable the couch is, and how great it is for sleeping (very true). The roommate doesn't agree and we go home.

Once there, I take pictures of all the furniture with my phone and send them to the roommate. And then I woke up.

Ultimately pointless dream. Just getting rid of some leftover furniture thoughts, of which there have been many of late.