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Thursday, February 17, 2011

The Night I Laughed Myself Awake

Lately, I haven't really had full dreams that I can remember or could make sense of enough to write about. (I hope that this has not cost me my whole fan base of five readers, don't leave me!!) That, and I am busy being a responsible adult. What's interesting though is that I am so responsible that I have now become a grumpy bitch half the time, and even after working more hours I am still poor. Pretty much, me being an adult does not help anybody out.

Anyhoo, I thought since I haven't had anything worthy to write about, I'd write about one of the more interesting dreams I've had.

Significant other is from a smaller town just over an hour away from where we are now. In this dream, we were at his high school (note: I've seen the outside but not the inside. Including the gym.) in the gym. A group of people, including significant other, his cousin, and I, were sitting in the bleachers listening to somebody speaking behind a podium. I don't recall what he or she was speaking about, but I'm pretty sure it was important because they were standing behind a podium and no one was paying attention.

Right about here is when my brain started to catch on to what was happening. This only happens once in awhile, but sometimes I can tell when I am dreaming. It seems to be random, and when I actually wake up, I realize the reasons to support my beliefs for realizing I was dreaming are completely random and inconsistent. For instance, once I had a dream that my apartment had peanut butter on the walls. Aside from all of the random things that are not in my apartment, it was that factor that caused me to suddenly to think, wait a minute. I'm dreaming. This is because there is peanut butter on the walls! This would never happen in real life! lol!


But when I dream about, oh, people with 6 arms and rollerblading across a lake with their heads falling off my brain is like, oh this is normal, no need to suspect I might be dreaming. And no, I didn't actually have a dream about people with 6 arms rollerblading across a lake with their heads falling off (at least that I know of...). That was just an example.

So back to the dream, we were sitting in the gym that I have never actually seen before, and some person is talking. When I start to suspect that I may be dreaming. Somehow, other people in my dream suspect that I am dreaming, too. Particularly, significant other's cousin. He says, "If this is a dream, then we should be able to say random things." The non-trouble maker in me immediately tries to quiet him. This did not stop him. To prove his point, he decides to yell something...

"HAM!!!"


Because ham is really funny, I start to laugh. Usually dreamland things don't translate to real life things, like if I cry in my dreams, I don't wake up with tears down my face, and stuff like that. This, however, definitely crossed over the dream line. I woke up laughing with my face in the pillow. I was probably laughing for a good three minutes afterwards.

And that is how ham made me laugh myself awake.

Friday, February 11, 2011

The Night I Went to New York/Philly/Denver and Possibly Boston

So this one was confusing. Hopefully I can keep it straight.

In high school, I took two trips with our band (yes, I was a band geek...). One was to NYC and the other to Hawaii. It was actually an awesome experience as a musician. I was able to see two Broadway productions, an off-Broadway production, visit Juilliard, and in Hawaii I had the privilege of playing my instruments at the University of Hawaii.

Anyway, in my dream I learned that I would be taking another trip to NY and either Philly or Boston. I didn't seem to know which in my dream. Often times I do everything impromptu in dreamland, which makes real-perfectionist-planner-everythinghastoworkatthistimethatIhavealloted! me extremely nervous and rock back and forth in a corner. So because of this sudden trip, I remember throwing random items of ugly clothing into a backpack and putting it into my father's van. (even though this was supposed to be a "band" trip, my parents and I seemed to be the only ones going).

This somehow cuts to an airport in Denver. I just knew it was Denver, because I remember looking around and thinking, Huh. There is no snow here. I can't remember what things look like without snow after the epic Midwest snowstorm that took place last week. Even though Denver probably gets snow, I just knew we were in Denver. Because in dreamland, I just know things.

When we get to the airport, which looked more like Kohl's Department store than an airport, I made a very, very disturbing discovery in the parking lot. I opened up my backpack to find that I. FORGOT. TO. PACK. ANY. PANTS. Real me would have probably dropped to the ground and convulsed, making mumbling noises between sobs of agony and despair. (Actually, this is not so accurate. Real me would have never forgotten pants) Dream me, however, was a thinker. An inventor, even! Dream me figured the airport that looked like Kohls, but was actually more of a mall, would definitely have pants.

Side note: I think I should have a separate name for dream me. As I have found, we are very different people. Yes, this probably makes me a crazy person. But I think dream me should be Denzel because she is way more bad-ass than real me. Yes. Denzel it is.

So Denzel went into the Kohl's mall. The doors to the actual Kohl's were very tall glass doors embraced by a wooden frame and had fancy door handles. It was like opening the gate to the kingdom of pants. True to real life, I was heavily disappointed by the selection. Denzel would never settle for these ugly pants, and obviously having no pants was a better option than having ugly stupid pants. Instead of accepting this, I (denzel) was gonna DO something about it. I was ANGRY now. I jumped up on their stupid tables with ugly clothes and threw everything on the ground. In my primal rage, I took some random items off of some other tables and pretended to head to the dressing room where I would really be able to cause some chaos. This, however, did not make mother happy. She scolded me and made me go look at the ugly pants and pick something out. I put my pouty face on and stomped over to the ugly-pants rack. Even though I did what my mother told me, I was going to make sure everyone knew how unhappy I was about it. Including one of the workers. Just as he walked by, I yelled, "BITCH!" and gave him my super evil glare. This was not going to fly. As if they had some secret microphones planted around the store, alarms started wailing, and bitch-man took hold of my wrist and told me to get out of the store. Not because I stood on the tables and created a disaster, but because I called him a bitch.

Take that, Kohl's, for having crappy-ugly pants.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

The Dream that Started it All...

Before I delve into the absurdness that is my brain, there are probably a few things you should know about me.

Here are some reasons (that you may or may not care about) why I wanted to start this blog.
- I am a full time student working almost 30 hours a week, so, naturally, I needed something else to do.
- I have wanted to keep some sort of my log of my dreams for quite some time. I think dreams are fascinating and there have definitely been times where I wish I could go back and read some of the crazy things I dreamed about.
- My significant other (and I say this in the nicest way possible) is simply tired of hearing about them. Shortly after I wake up, I often find myself perplexed, laughing, confused, etc. from dreaming and wind up tugging at his sleeve like a child on Christmas because of my need to immediately explain what I've just experienced. Only in a more creepy way. He usually does not have a say in whether he will listen or not, and lately I've felt bad about it.
- Some of my friends do enjoy listening to them, though. Sometimes it's like a fight on who is crazier.

Here are some other random facts.
- I am not a writer. I haven't written anything worthy since high school, which totally disproves their mumbo-jumbo that you will have to write all the time in college. I suppose this is true for English majors, journalism majors, graduate students etc. who will have to write a lot in the future, but this is not the case for me. I am usually okay with spelling and grammar, but I can't promise that this will be Pulitzer prize winning or anything. Actually, I couldn't even tell you if the Pulitzer prize is for writing.
- I'm sort of creative, but not really. Although I wish I was, that just isn't the case. Therefore, there is no possible way that I can be making these up. I may occasionally try to fill some holes where my memory fails me, but I promise these are for realz.
- Like I said before, I am a student. I will try to update as often as I can, or whenever I want to procrastinate. Or when I'm bored at work.
- I know a lot of people like to think there is something more to dreams, like they predict your future, or are a projection of your most deep and hidden feelings and whatever. This is probably true, but I have given up trying to analyze my dreams. This is purely for fun and for my "records".
- My dreams are vivid, scary, funny, INCEPTION-LIKE (dun dun dun), and like most dreams, make no sense. 99 percent of the time they are super-weird.
- I wish I could draw. But I can't, so I will try to give super awesome details. Maybe I'll figure out how to draw someday.
- I like to use adjectives like super awesome.

Okay, enough of the boring stuff. Onward, to more fun things!

Here is one of the very first dreams I remember. I was probably, oh, 5 or 6 when this happened, and most of my friends have heard it a dozen times. It's a classic.

This took place in my childhood home in Milwaukee. My parents, brother and I lived in a one story house with various sequences of 4 stairs, one of which connected the living room with the den. Side note: when I was 3  I rolled down these stairs and hit my head on the coffee table which probably is the source of my loose screws. Anyway, my dreams usually take place in vary strange and unfamiliar settings, but this dream took place in the exact replica of this house. In my dream, I got out of my bed. At this time my brother and I had bunk beds. He had the super cool top bunk, and because I was younger had to suffer with the not-so-fun bottom bunk which was perpendicular with his. I headed out of the door down the hallway, which opened to the living room where all of our toys lay strewn about. This turned into another hallway with the main bathroom on the left and my parents' bedroom straight ahead. I slid the slidey-door open to the bathroom. When you first walked in, the vanity was to the left, with the toilet behind it, and the shower and tub (separate) were on the right. This bathroom was pink. From the floor tiles to the tub, full-blown 80's pink.

I immediately noticed a toilet scrubber moving in a cleaning motion by itself. It was one of the old ones with the white plastic handle and the scrubby part curled in an "O" shape at the end. Hmm, that was strange. My next move was to look in the giant mirror that was placed on the wall perpendicular with the vanity, but nothing could prepare me for what I saw. OH. MY. GOD. THE GHOST OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN WAS CLEANING MY TOILET.

When I looked away from the mirror and over at the toilet with the scrubber, there he appeared in real ghost form. He had his famous black tux on, but no top hat. Instead of finding this cool, or even interesting, 5-year-old me screamed. I was mortified. Interesting enough, I thought I was making up the whole idea that you could see ghosts in mirrors until I saw the movie 'Skeleton Key' with Kate Hudson and they told her not to look in the mirrors because they were all ghosts or something. So how did 5-year-old me know that? Who knows. To this day I still find that part mind-boggling.

And yes, I am still afraid of Abraham Lincoln 16 years later.