the other night I had another sexxxy dream about Mohinder Suresh from Heroes. Why does my dream consciousness have a crush on someone different from my waking self? Fascinating. I am endlessly fascinating. haha JUST KIDDING.
I'm going to see La Boheme next week, and apparently I'm way too excited about that, because last night I dreamed they canceled La Boheme and put on another show instead, and I was PISSED. AND they didn't tell anyone, they just had some other crap going on instead, and I had to ask around to figure out that it wasn't some pre-show jizz, but the actual replacement performance. That better not happen in real life. It better NOT. Plus the show they did wasn't even classical type, it was a new Broadway musical, and it totally sucked. It was one of those things where the actors bust through the Third Wall and walk out into the audience to include us in their songs. Ugh every time that happens I try to do my best invisible girl impersonation. It didn't work in my dream. I was resting my head on my arms on the seat in front of me (which was empty because half the audience left) (and the other half was walking around and talking) and one of the performers, some guy who needed to shave and was wearing a blue hoodie, walked right up to me and asked me to stand up, and he gave me a hug. I could feel his armpit sweat on my sleeveless arms, for I was wearing a formal dress for this mess. I was polite about it though entirely displeased. Afterwards I swore on your mom's grave I'd be emailing in for a refund.
]]>I dreamed this a couple of months ago, but I still think about it sometimes. In my dream I received a letter from someone that started out with that, it said "It broke my back to write you this." It's a very haunting line to me for some reason. Maybe because it's so honest and blunt but sort of poetic without trying to be. Most people try to hide how hard things are for them, but it takes a lot more strength to admit pain I think, at least for those of us who suffer from a bit of a pride problem (d'oh).
It doesn't feel like these words came out of my brain. It feels so much like a letter from someone else to m, that I think it must be from something I've seen somewhere and forgotten. As soon as I woke up I wrote out the letter as I remembered it from my dream. It's from someone I've met but don't really know personally.
"It broke my back to write you this, and please feel free to disregard. You don't know me and you don't owe me anything.
But my best friend's family lost someone and they can't afford the funeral. I love my friend and I promised I'd ask around, so I'm only asking for him. I never ask anyone for anything for myself. I'd never ask you for money for myself, but if you could spare some coin for the Lordolis's ?..
I had to ask, I hope you understand.
I didn't want it to be this way..."
I don't remember the rest of the exact words, but I know he spoke shyly of god, as if he were a little embarrassed to admit he believed in such things. And though he seemed sheepish about having to come to me with this, I was glad he thought of me. It was like his best friend was introducing us to one another inadvertently.
Last night I dreamed I was having a poker party at my house, and some Russian Mafia dudes broke in and busted it up. I was afraid they were going ot kill me, so I hid in a closet till they settled in a back room, then I snuck out the door and drove off. Next day I went to the mall because it was hot out. I was afraid to go home in case the mobsters were still camped out at my pad. I walked past a mall office and who did I see inside but the head Russian mobster himself!!! I hid by the door and listened. He told someone to put a hit out on one of my friends, don't stop till he's dead, he said, and then MY voice answered that she'd do all that she could. I peeked inside and saw a clone of myself under the Russian mobsters command! No wonder they were trying to kill me. I called all my friends to warn them not to trust me. I thought about coming up with a codeword so they'd know it was me. I wondered if my clone had the same tattoos and birthmarks and so on as me...then I woke up.
]]>the other night I had another sexxxy dream about Mohinder Suresh from Heroes. Why does my dream consciousness have a crush on someone different from my waking self? Fascinating. I am endlessly fascinating. haha JUST KIDDING.
It's been awhile since I've typed on here, dang.
WELL last night I dreamed that I made out with (etc!) Mohinder Suresh and Nathan Petrelli from Heroes. I'm not complaining, but I would have preferred Peter Petrelli. Oh well, I'll take what I can get.
THE END
while I'm here, I'll paste a snippet of an email I shot off to a buddy of mine name of Emily on May 22.
]]>last night I dreamed you guys went to a place to look at dogs and I guess I went with you, but then I left for a little bit and got kidnapped by mark david chapman. but then he started having a nervous breakdown and I figured that was my cue to escape, and in my dream, I tried different methods like Choose Your Own Adventure. at first I shot him in the head with his own gun. but then it started over and I escaped through a window. in another round I thought I could just run out the door. And in the end i think y'all picked Thelma. [a puppy from Austin Pets Alive, a nice place that saves pets from the euthanasia lists and adopts them out]
The other night I had two dreams in a row about my clothes. First off, I was at chili's having lunch with some friends, when I look down and notice that I forgot to change out of my pajamas before leaving the house.
Then later I don't even know where I was. I think I was just going to hang out at my friend's house where they watch sports a lot, but for some reason I showed up in total goth regalia. I had a Victorian-ish black lace and red dress and my hair in an updo with ruby hair pins. I felt inappropriate. Everyone else was in jeans. I'm not even goth.
The End
That sounds gross, but it's actually adorable, watch:
This is one of my favorite songs on earth. It has the word dream in it, so I reckon I can put it here.
When I was a kid I had to go to bed at 8pm, even in the summer, and I'd lay there listening to all the other kids play outside, and the sun wasn't even down yet. I'd make up stories to entertain myself. I used my hands as puppets to play them out. Sometimes the stories were so sad I'd cry. This song reminds me of that for some reason
I get hugged in my dreams a lot, more than I admit. Never more than hugs though, dammit. Last night the dentist hugged me. I told him I needed my filling replaced and he gave me a great big hug, and we cuddled like that for awhile, just talking about my teeth. I thought it was creepy, but it was the most anyone had touched me in awhile, and he didn't seem like he was going to take advantage or anything. Later I went home and found out that my apartment complex has a cafeteria that comes with room and board. When I woke up I was pretty damn disappointed that it wasn't real. How convenient would that be for someone like me who won't cook? Dorm style cafeteria. I'd pay a couple of hundred more in rent for that.
]]>