janetlin: (Default)
After three days of once again writing Lucissa with [livejournal.com profile] eonone (squee!) , I figured I would dream about Malfoys. But last night/this morning, it was Gjokajs. It was epic and several shades of awesome.

Enver/Victor was being held somewhere (shades of one of the latest Dollhouse episodes, which is surprising: usually it takes longer for things to trickle through my brain and show up as dreams). Somehow I knew about this and went to find Demir to help get him out. We flew a plane (wtf he can fly?) to the farm where Enver was, but once there they nabbed Demir for some nefarious purpose. So I went off to find Enver, tell him his brother was there too and that we all needed to get the heck out. He didn't believe me but as we were walking back to the dormitory/barracks/wherever, we passed this figure that I just knew was Demir. He'd been genetically altered so was now this kind of freakish hybrid thing, completely unrecognizable, but Enver somehow knew it was him, too (twin thing I guess). As we were standing there talking, a cluster of reporters advanced upon us like Night of the Living Dead (zombies go "Braaains," apparently reporters go "Stoooory"). I stopped to chat with one of them who happens to be Carrie Ann Inaba from Dancing with the Stars about my funny observation, and the boys made a clean getaway.

I went to the barracks or whatever, where Enver was just coming out of the shower (no, I'm not that creepy, get your mind out of the gutter). I turned a corner into the sleeping room and there was Priya making out with Demir under a sleeping bag. Apparently that genetic modification thing cleared up really fast. I nonchalantly left the room again to relate this to Enver. He was on top of a bunk bed/chest of drawers and took this flying leap off of it to go running after his brother. They had a really pretty uncoordinated - but still fantastic - fight, with Demir trying to defend himself with the pillow, until Priya grabbed Enver by his shirt and dragged him toward the shower room for a Talk - presumably to defend herself with the thought that it had been him. I looked at Demir and we both just sort of shrugged, and then my alarm went off.

(insert cussin' here)
janetlin: (Default)
After three days of once again writing Lucissa with [livejournal.com profile] eonone (squee!) , I figured I would dream about Malfoys. But last night/this morning, it was Gjokajs. It was epic and several shades of awesome.

Enver/Victor was being held somewhere (shades of one of the latest Dollhouse episodes, which is surprising: usually it takes longer for things to trickle through my brain and show up as dreams). Somehow I knew about this and went to find Demir to help get him out. We flew a plane (wtf he can fly?) to the farm where Enver was, but once there they nabbed Demir for some nefarious purpose. So I went off to find Enver, tell him his brother was there too and that we all needed to get the heck out. He didn't believe me but as we were walking back to the dormitory/barracks/wherever, we passed this figure that I just knew was Demir. He'd been genetically altered so was now this kind of freakish hybrid thing, completely unrecognizable, but Enver somehow knew it was him, too (twin thing I guess). As we were standing there talking, a cluster of reporters advanced upon us like Night of the Living Dead (zombies go "Braaains," apparently reporters go "Stoooory"). I stopped to chat with one of them who happens to be Carrie Ann Inaba from Dancing with the Stars about my funny observation, and the boys made a clean getaway.

I went to the barracks or whatever, where Enver was just coming out of the shower (no, I'm not that creepy, get your mind out of the gutter). I turned a corner into the sleeping room and there was Priya making out with Demir under a sleeping bag. Apparently that genetic modification thing cleared up really fast. I nonchalantly left the room again to relate this to Enver. He was on top of a bunk bed/chest of drawers and took this flying leap off of it to go running after his brother. They had a really pretty uncoordinated - but still fantastic - fight, with Demir trying to defend himself with the pillow, until Priya grabbed Enver by his shirt and dragged him toward the shower room for a Talk - presumably to defend herself with the thought that it had been him. I looked at Demir and we both just sort of shrugged, and then my alarm went off.

(insert cussin' here)
janetlin: (Que)
I dreamed I was in the Dollhouse. It looked vaguely like DeWitt's office except it was on the ground floor because Dolls were walking outside for exercise or something. Just as Enver/Victor was about to leave, my Mom stood up and hugged him and told him he's much handsomer than he appears onscreen. This got no response from Victor and he continued on his way.

I looked to the other corner of the room and there's a guy juggling, upon closer inspection it's Demir (Enver's identical twin), so I go over to talk to him. But as I approach, his body... shifts, and suddenly it's Agent Ballard instead. He doesn't even say anything but somehow I know that he's just completely evil. Then it jumps to his PoV and instead of me standing in front of him, it's Eliza/Echo. She swings a punch at him but he bats it away, and then his cell phone rings. The body changes back to Demir as he answers (I guess so that he'll have Demir's voice), and even though I'm effectively him, I can still only hear one half of the conversation. He's apparently talking to a buddy, and they're setting up a time to meet and go together somewhere. They are obviously up to no good.

I get back to my own PoV (though whether I'm me or Eliza, I'm not sure), and for some reason tag along with Demir to this rendezvous. Turns out he and the buddy - maybe brother - are going home to his family. Things are a little awkward. Apparently Demir hasn't been home in a very long time and might not be entirely welcome anymore. Y'know, what with the being evil and everything. But we all sit down at the kitchen table, me, him, his buddy, a younger brother probably in his early twenties, while the youngest brother - like thirteen or so - is doing his homework on the counter in the background.

Demir asks for someone, and it's a ridiculous pet name, so I think he's talking about the dog or something. "She's in prison," twenty-something brother spits out, like it's Demir's fault and he shouldn't be at all surprised by this news. Demir pulls out a mirror to check his face. I guess he was worried that a break in concentration would make him turn back into Agent Ballard or something. He now looks like neither Tahmoh nor Demir, but some kind of weird halfway in between both of them, though nobody else seems to notice. The buddy asks what she (apparently a sister) is in for, and the brother replies, "Murder."

For the first time I notice that Demir has Wolverine claws, except they're bent in the middle like a garden tool. His buddy has a fireplace poker sitting on the table in front of him and is oh-so-casually resting his hand on it. The brother also has some kind of weapon, maybe another poker because all I remember is that it was also like black iron. I'm starting to mildly flip out at this point, because this is not the Gjokaj family I remember and I'm not sure I want to be here anymore.

"You shouldn't be surprised," the brother continues, "it's all she ever did, want to be like you two, killing people for you."

Demir and his buddy look at each other with this sort of resigned expression of, "We're going to have to kill everyone here, aren't we?" and one or both of them shrugs, and they bump knuckles (I have no idea how Demir managed that with his claws), and all hell breaks loose as people try to flee the ensuing carnage. I book it out the back door and scramble up a fence, driven purely by adrenaline as there was nothing else to help me climb.

For some reason, though, once on the other side I don't keep going. I stop and peek through one of the knot holes to watch the rampage. But other people have the same escape route as me and start crawling over my fence, which of course attracts some notice. I abandon my position and run down the driveway on the side of the house, past an RV, and onto the front lawn. Finally I decide I've had enough and wake up.
janetlin: (Que)
I dreamed I was in the Dollhouse. It looked vaguely like DeWitt's office except it was on the ground floor because Dolls were walking outside for exercise or something. Just as Enver/Victor was about to leave, my Mom stood up and hugged him and told him he's much handsomer than he appears onscreen. This got no response from Victor and he continued on his way.

I looked to the other corner of the room and there's a guy juggling, upon closer inspection it's Demir (Enver's identical twin), so I go over to talk to him. But as I approach, his body... shifts, and suddenly it's Agent Ballard instead. He doesn't even say anything but somehow I know that he's just completely evil. Then it jumps to his PoV and instead of me standing in front of him, it's Eliza/Echo. She swings a punch at him but he bats it away, and then his cell phone rings. The body changes back to Demir as he answers (I guess so that he'll have Demir's voice), and even though I'm effectively him, I can still only hear one half of the conversation. He's apparently talking to a buddy, and they're setting up a time to meet and go together somewhere. They are obviously up to no good.

I get back to my own PoV (though whether I'm me or Eliza, I'm not sure), and for some reason tag along with Demir to this rendezvous. Turns out he and the buddy - maybe brother - are going home to his family. Things are a little awkward. Apparently Demir hasn't been home in a very long time and might not be entirely welcome anymore. Y'know, what with the being evil and everything. But we all sit down at the kitchen table, me, him, his buddy, a younger brother probably in his early twenties, while the youngest brother - like thirteen or so - is doing his homework on the counter in the background.

Demir asks for someone, and it's a ridiculous pet name, so I think he's talking about the dog or something. "She's in prison," twenty-something brother spits out, like it's Demir's fault and he shouldn't be at all surprised by this news. Demir pulls out a mirror to check his face. I guess he was worried that a break in concentration would make him turn back into Agent Ballard or something. He now looks like neither Tahmoh nor Demir, but some kind of weird halfway in between both of them, though nobody else seems to notice. The buddy asks what she (apparently a sister) is in for, and the brother replies, "Murder."

For the first time I notice that Demir has Wolverine claws, except they're bent in the middle like a garden tool. His buddy has a fireplace poker sitting on the table in front of him and is oh-so-casually resting his hand on it. The brother also has some kind of weapon, maybe another poker because all I remember is that it was also like black iron. I'm starting to mildly flip out at this point, because this is not the Gjokaj family I remember and I'm not sure I want to be here anymore.

"You shouldn't be surprised," the brother continues, "it's all she ever did, want to be like you two, killing people for you."

Demir and his buddy look at each other with this sort of resigned expression of, "We're going to have to kill everyone here, aren't we?" and one or both of them shrugs, and they bump knuckles (I have no idea how Demir managed that with his claws), and all hell breaks loose as people try to flee the ensuing carnage. I book it out the back door and scramble up a fence, driven purely by adrenaline as there was nothing else to help me climb.

For some reason, though, once on the other side I don't keep going. I stop and peek through one of the knot holes to watch the rampage. But other people have the same escape route as me and start crawling over my fence, which of course attracts some notice. I abandon my position and run down the driveway on the side of the house, past an RV, and onto the front lawn. Finally I decide I've had enough and wake up.
janetlin: (WTF)
Been a while since I posted a dream, so here's one from a few days ago.

The queen (played by Natalie Portman in all her Padme Amidala finery) is about to have a baby, so people are coming from all over to pay their respects. And I'm, like, on the staff, or a press secretary, or something, because I'm on the train platform, welcoming the visiting dignitaries as they arrive. One of whom is Boris Yeltsin, who was very smiling and affable and pleased to have me greet him in Russian, and whose hand when I shook it was big and warm, if a bit rough. He was attended by another man I didn't recognize (why not Putin?), and they were both in uniform. We also had delegations from China and Korea, and one of them was this guy. We all sit down at a dining table and the gentlemen start discussing what they expect when the new dignitary is born (whom everyone is certain will be a boy). Treaties, trade agreements, political babble that even my dream-self didn't understand.

The train whistle sounds again and I go back outside, assuming it's President Bush, as he's the only expected guest not yet arrived. But it isn't. Instead it's Johnnie, with Morgan, his mom, aunt, and two youngest cousins. They all go in to see the soon-to-be-mother, but I bring Morgan back to the summit room with me, and Yeltsin is delighted and starts playing with her. Then Johnnie's cousins come running in, and suddenly the dignitaries' faces change (as well as the Russians' uniforms), and it's no longer a summit, but a family dinner or something, albeit with people I don't recognize, except for the kids.

WTF?
janetlin: (WTF)
Been a while since I posted a dream, so here's one from a few days ago.

The queen (played by Natalie Portman in all her Padme Amidala finery) is about to have a baby, so people are coming from all over to pay their respects. And I'm, like, on the staff, or a press secretary, or something, because I'm on the train platform, welcoming the visiting dignitaries as they arrive. One of whom is Boris Yeltsin, who was very smiling and affable and pleased to have me greet him in Russian, and whose hand when I shook it was big and warm, if a bit rough. He was attended by another man I didn't recognize (why not Putin?), and they were both in uniform. We also had delegations from China and Korea, and one of them was this guy. We all sit down at a dining table and the gentlemen start discussing what they expect when the new dignitary is born (whom everyone is certain will be a boy). Treaties, trade agreements, political babble that even my dream-self didn't understand.

The train whistle sounds again and I go back outside, assuming it's President Bush, as he's the only expected guest not yet arrived. But it isn't. Instead it's Johnnie, with Morgan, his mom, aunt, and two youngest cousins. They all go in to see the soon-to-be-mother, but I bring Morgan back to the summit room with me, and Yeltsin is delighted and starts playing with her. Then Johnnie's cousins come running in, and suddenly the dignitaries' faces change (as well as the Russians' uniforms), and it's no longer a summit, but a family dinner or something, albeit with people I don't recognize, except for the kids.

WTF?
janetlin: (Cutest thing evar)
I had a couple of interesting dreams this past week. They were on two different nights, but the second followed the first like it was the next episode in a tv show or something, which is pretty unusual for my dreams anyway. They had a sci-fi/western feel - anyone remember Legend? Richard Dean Anderson as an alcoholic former gunfighter and John De Lancie as the Q-type character (no, not his usual. More like Bond's Q) who supplied him with all sorts of nifty high-tech gadgets with which he fought crime and tried to live up to the larger-than-life expectations people had of him from reading dime novels about his exploits. Anyway, same sort of world, same sort of feel.

I was a maid/housekeeper working for this scientist/inventor (played by David Tennant, yum), and in the first dream we were in town taking an order for something a high-powered gentleman (not the mayor, maybe city council?) wanted made, and in the second the thing was done and we were delivering it. _Why_ the scientist would take his maid along for such things, I have no idea, but staying home and cleaning his house would have made for a pretty boring dream, so I'm not complaining.

What the gentleman wanted was a gun or something, so when we show up in town to deliver it we're all smudged with gunpowder or soot or something. I wipe some off my inventor's nose with my thumb, and then turn to a mirror to take care of my own face, and I LOOK LIKE MYSELF. I _never_ wear my own face in dreams. So weird. I woke up shortly thereafter and I don't remember what any of the rest of the "plot" was, just the situation was so vivid (and surprisingly coherent). It's been tickling my brain for days and I'm trying to figure out how to turn it into a story or something.
janetlin: (Cutest thing evar)
I had a couple of interesting dreams this past week. They were on two different nights, but the second followed the first like it was the next episode in a tv show or something, which is pretty unusual for my dreams anyway. They had a sci-fi/western feel - anyone remember Legend? Richard Dean Anderson as an alcoholic former gunfighter and John De Lancie as the Q-type character (no, not his usual. More like Bond's Q) who supplied him with all sorts of nifty high-tech gadgets with which he fought crime and tried to live up to the larger-than-life expectations people had of him from reading dime novels about his exploits. Anyway, same sort of world, same sort of feel.

I was a maid/housekeeper working for this scientist/inventor (played by David Tennant, yum), and in the first dream we were in town taking an order for something a high-powered gentleman (not the mayor, maybe city council?) wanted made, and in the second the thing was done and we were delivering it. _Why_ the scientist would take his maid along for such things, I have no idea, but staying home and cleaning his house would have made for a pretty boring dream, so I'm not complaining.

What the gentleman wanted was a gun or something, so when we show up in town to deliver it we're all smudged with gunpowder or soot or something. I wipe some off my inventor's nose with my thumb, and then turn to a mirror to take care of my own face, and I LOOK LIKE MYSELF. I _never_ wear my own face in dreams. So weird. I woke up shortly thereafter and I don't remember what any of the rest of the "plot" was, just the situation was so vivid (and surprisingly coherent). It's been tickling my brain for days and I'm trying to figure out how to turn it into a story or something.
janetlin: (Stargate is a rerun)
Interesting dream this morning: I kissed Teal'c. Or he kissed me and I kissed him back. Anyway.

We were reminiscing on the years he's been with SG-1, and he was thanking me for something, and then sort of awkwardly asked if he could hug me. I said sure ('cause really, those _arms_), so we did so, and then he just as awkwardly kissed me, like he thought I might slap him for taking liberties or something. So instead I smiled at him and kissed him back, and we snogged for a bit before my alarm clock went off. *stabs it* Unfortunately, I don't remember what his arms felt like (damn it all), but I remember the kiss and how he smelled and just the tiniest beginnings of stubble on his jaw.

So, yeah. Teal'c. I have no idea why it was him instead of Daniel (or even Jack or Cam, for that matter). Perhaps inspired by one of my f'list's latest entries (which was locked, so I will preserve the anonymity), which brought up the subject of the attractiveness of black men in movies/tv versus real life. If that's the case, this is the fastest my dreams have ever reacted to _anything_, as it was just last night that I read her entry and posted my comment in response.

And perhaps the weirdest thing is that I've never been attracted to Teal'c. At all (other than drooling over teh arm pr0n). I'm not _unattracted_, he's just... there, you know? Probably why the kiss, though it lingered and was nice, didn't really have any heat. Hmm. *Hopes for Daniel next time, and earlier, so we don't get interrupted*
janetlin: (Stargate is a rerun)
Interesting dream this morning: I kissed Teal'c. Or he kissed me and I kissed him back. Anyway.

We were reminiscing on the years he's been with SG-1, and he was thanking me for something, and then sort of awkwardly asked if he could hug me. I said sure ('cause really, those _arms_), so we did so, and then he just as awkwardly kissed me, like he thought I might slap him for taking liberties or something. So instead I smiled at him and kissed him back, and we snogged for a bit before my alarm clock went off. *stabs it* Unfortunately, I don't remember what his arms felt like (damn it all), but I remember the kiss and how he smelled and just the tiniest beginnings of stubble on his jaw.

So, yeah. Teal'c. I have no idea why it was him instead of Daniel (or even Jack or Cam, for that matter). Perhaps inspired by one of my f'list's latest entries (which was locked, so I will preserve the anonymity), which brought up the subject of the attractiveness of black men in movies/tv versus real life. If that's the case, this is the fastest my dreams have ever reacted to _anything_, as it was just last night that I read her entry and posted my comment in response.

And perhaps the weirdest thing is that I've never been attracted to Teal'c. At all (other than drooling over teh arm pr0n). I'm not _unattracted_, he's just... there, you know? Probably why the kiss, though it lingered and was nice, didn't really have any heat. Hmm. *Hopes for Daniel next time, and earlier, so we don't get interrupted*
janetlin: (Chapel)
... and not the greatest start to Christmas festivities.

I was at Girl Scout camp, or some such. I didn't recognize any of the girls I was with, but the ages were right (I even felt younger), in a place that felt - though didn't look - like Yosemite. We hiked along a trail that traversed a cliff face that looked out over the valley, and biked around the floor, and were out on the lake in boats, when I heard helicopters overhead and one of the teachers/troop leaders said, "Oh, no." Looking up, I saw what seemed more like black stealth planes, with red ribbons trailing back from the wings, and the teacher said, "Those are the (insert name of ominous badass militia/assassin group here)." So we started rowing for shore, and then black arrows started shooting down into the water. So we got out of our boats and swam under the water - not quite sure of the logic for this, but anyway. I'm swimming along the bottom of the lake and feel this pang in my left shoulder, and my arm won't move, and I smell and taste blood (I can smell 'cause I can breathe underwater when I swim). I look down to see this black arrow sticking out of my chest just above my heart. I will myself not to panic, because my heart beating faster will make me bleed faster. Then the teacher asks, "Sierra, are you all right?" (we can speak underwater, too), and I calmly turn to her so she can see the arrow. Her eyes get big as saucers and she says we have to get me out of the water so I don't bleed out. I muse darkly that trying to swim with my arm will also make me bleed faster, and then I wake up.

So, yeah.

If you pray, please pray extra special hard for Alan people flying today.
janetlin: (Chapel)
... and not the greatest start to Christmas festivities.

I was at Girl Scout camp, or some such. I didn't recognize any of the girls I was with, but the ages were right (I even felt younger), in a place that felt - though didn't look - like Yosemite. We hiked along a trail that traversed a cliff face that looked out over the valley, and biked around the floor, and were out on the lake in boats, when I heard helicopters overhead and one of the teachers/troop leaders said, "Oh, no." Looking up, I saw what seemed more like black stealth planes, with red ribbons trailing back from the wings, and the teacher said, "Those are the (insert name of ominous badass militia/assassin group here)." So we started rowing for shore, and then black arrows started shooting down into the water. So we got out of our boats and swam under the water - not quite sure of the logic for this, but anyway. I'm swimming along the bottom of the lake and feel this pang in my left shoulder, and my arm won't move, and I smell and taste blood (I can smell 'cause I can breathe underwater when I swim). I look down to see this black arrow sticking out of my chest just above my heart. I will myself not to panic, because my heart beating faster will make me bleed faster. Then the teacher asks, "Sierra, are you all right?" (we can speak underwater, too), and I calmly turn to her so she can see the arrow. Her eyes get big as saucers and she says we have to get me out of the water so I don't bleed out. I muse darkly that trying to swim with my arm will also make me bleed faster, and then I wake up.

So, yeah.

If you pray, please pray extra special hard for Alan people flying today.
janetlin: (Curiosity)
So the mod of a game I play online has apparently been having a bad week, according to a fellow player. This explains the extreme slow-down in activity lately. Totally understandable. I even had a dream the night before last in which I spoke to the mod in person (which I have never done, as she lives several states away), and she was talking about what exactly had been going on. Not weird in and of itself, other than the fact that it is yet another dream I've managed to remember.

So I see her online yesterday and ask her how things are, and she's kind of "meh," and I mention this dream I had about her, which kind of perks her ears up.

me: how's things?
modly being: okish
me: (player B) said you've been having a bleh week
modly being: *nod*
me: I actually had a dream about it last night
modly being: oh?
me: somehow I ran into you on campus (even though I'm not currently in school), and I didn't know who you were, but you were talking about something unpleasant in regards to your daughter, with which I sympathized, and then you told me your name and I was like, Oh, you're that (modly being). Hi, I'm Sierra.
modly being: ^^ so what did i look like?
me: dark blonde/light brown hair, bout my height (5'4 ), ... and slightly overweight (sorry!)
modly being: ... ok, who are you. b/c thats right on. i'm 5'6
me: eep!
modly being: and roundish
me: whoa
modly being: *pokepoke* you suuuuure youre not following me around?
me: umm, from California? pretty sure. and I don't remember what it was that you said had gotten you so bummed. Like I said, it was something to do with your daughter. not serious, but certainly unpleasant
modly being: prob that i missed her. she lives w/ my mom most days
me: your overall mood was rather depressed, and kind of helpless about whatever the situation was
modly being: *nod* its how ive been for the past few weeks
me: whoa
modly being: whats your email addy? n/m better idea ((insert link to pic of modly being with daughter)) me and the bebe
me: awww! your hair was longer in the dream and you didn't have glasses..... wow, still creepy though
modly being: more like this? ((insert link to different pic))
me: eeep!!! OMG
modly being: ...
me: that's it. ‘cept your shirt was, like, light pink, rather loose with short sleeves and a v-neck
modly being: gathering of the fellowship, 2003. am in costume there but had contacts in
me: ahhh. wow
modly being: yah. bizarre. i shouldn't project my stress on people. its bad for their sense of reality.
me: that’s a hell of a projection, if it got to me here in California.

So that might take the cake, as far as odd dreaming goes.

Why am I suddenly dreaming again, anyway? I mean, I like it - I've missed it - but it's puzzling that just suddenly it's *bamf* {insert dreams here} every night of the week. Am I sleeping better? Not sleeping as deeply? Picking up woojy vibes from Alan? So bizarre.
janetlin: (Curiosity)
So the mod of a game I play online has apparently been having a bad week, according to a fellow player. This explains the extreme slow-down in activity lately. Totally understandable. I even had a dream the night before last in which I spoke to the mod in person (which I have never done, as she lives several states away), and she was talking about what exactly had been going on. Not weird in and of itself, other than the fact that it is yet another dream I've managed to remember.

So I see her online yesterday and ask her how things are, and she's kind of "meh," and I mention this dream I had about her, which kind of perks her ears up.

me: how's things?
modly being: okish
me: (player B) said you've been having a bleh week
modly being: *nod*
me: I actually had a dream about it last night
modly being: oh?
me: somehow I ran into you on campus (even though I'm not currently in school), and I didn't know who you were, but you were talking about something unpleasant in regards to your daughter, with which I sympathized, and then you told me your name and I was like, Oh, you're that (modly being). Hi, I'm Sierra.
modly being: ^^ so what did i look like?
me: dark blonde/light brown hair, bout my height (5'4 ), ... and slightly overweight (sorry!)
modly being: ... ok, who are you. b/c thats right on. i'm 5'6
me: eep!
modly being: and roundish
me: whoa
modly being: *pokepoke* you suuuuure youre not following me around?
me: umm, from California? pretty sure. and I don't remember what it was that you said had gotten you so bummed. Like I said, it was something to do with your daughter. not serious, but certainly unpleasant
modly being: prob that i missed her. she lives w/ my mom most days
me: your overall mood was rather depressed, and kind of helpless about whatever the situation was
modly being: *nod* its how ive been for the past few weeks
me: whoa
modly being: whats your email addy? n/m better idea ((insert link to pic of modly being with daughter)) me and the bebe
me: awww! your hair was longer in the dream and you didn't have glasses..... wow, still creepy though
modly being: more like this? ((insert link to different pic))
me: eeep!!! OMG
modly being: ...
me: that's it. ‘cept your shirt was, like, light pink, rather loose with short sleeves and a v-neck
modly being: gathering of the fellowship, 2003. am in costume there but had contacts in
me: ahhh. wow
modly being: yah. bizarre. i shouldn't project my stress on people. its bad for their sense of reality.
me: that’s a hell of a projection, if it got to me here in California.

So that might take the cake, as far as odd dreaming goes.

Why am I suddenly dreaming again, anyway? I mean, I like it - I've missed it - but it's puzzling that just suddenly it's *bamf* {insert dreams here} every night of the week. Am I sleeping better? Not sleeping as deeply? Picking up woojy vibes from Alan? So bizarre.
janetlin: (Curiosity)
I've had two dreams in the past week, after a very long time of not remembering dreams at all, so that in itself is a little odd. But the dreams themselves:

Mom and I are in the car, being pursued/running away from something. Despite the sense of urgency that usually means something/-one is right on your heels, we stopped at a gas station (oh, me and my logical brain). When we get back into the car to drive away, there's a snake sitting on the dashboard. It's coiled up so I can't tell how long it is, but its brownish body is quite thick, its head flat but broad and arrowhead-shaped. I don't know snakes, but looking through Wiki and Google images the closest I can find is a copperhead (though the colors weren't _quite_ that defined, just a muddy golden brown). Really quite a pretty snake, but anyway. I take off my sunglasses and hold them out toward the snake (to extend my reach perhaps? I have no idea why I was doing so). I sufficiently catch its attention, and it lunges at me, catching me on the back of my right hand. While it's attached to my hand, I grab it behind its head with my left hand and pull it away, roll down the window and throw it outside, out onto the street and into oncoming traffic. The first car to come along doesn't kill it, though, just catches it with the outside of a tire enough to send it flying up into the air and off to the shoulder of the road, where the snake then slithers away. The back of my hand is red, with a raised white bump in the center (I have no idea if that's what snakebites really look like). It stings a little, but is really more like a tingle, actually quite like a bee sting. Even after I woke up (and declared to Alan that, "a snake bit me" and then went back to sleep), my hand still tingled in that particular spot. Anyone know the significance of being bitten by a snake in a dream?

Then just last night I dreamed that I and several members of my family were in a jungle where there were natives. There was something precious out in the jungle which my little brother wanted to collect and take home to sell. For some reason, though, my brother _looked_ like a native, not like Rew as I know and love him. This guy was short(er than me), chubby, had tan skin and short straight black hair, but spoke perfect English (though not even with my _real_ brother's voice). Anyway, he'd already been out collecting on a few occasions earlier in the day, and as it was getting late, I didn't want him going out again so close to sunset. He got mad at me so I was trying to explain to him that if anything happened to him, I was going to be the one who had to tell Mom, and it would kill both her and me. Then I hugged him and cried and told him, "You're a god damn pain in the ass, but I do love you."

Then somehow I later found myself deeper in the jungle, up on a platform built in one of the trees. Morgan was with me, as well as my mom, real!Rew, and two Richard Dean Andersons (one MacGyver and one Jack O'Neill, though Jack had a mustache, which looked funny). For some reason, we all were needing to retreat down a hole in the center of the platform to climb down the tree (I don't think anyone was chasing us, but there was definitely a sense of urgency there). I'm frantically searching through the bags people were using to collect things to find one that I could put Morgan in and then carry on my back as I climbed down the tree, while the little monkey herself is apparently fascinated by the edge of the platform. She gets close a few times but I always manage to pull her back, but one time I'm not fast enough and she blithely just walks right off the edge. Not laughing or crying; she didn't seem to be aware at all that the "ground" stopped. Somehow I did manage to catch her by a wrist, though, and decided as I was hanging over the edge and clinging to Morgan's chubby little hand for dear life that I did not want to dream this dream anymore, so I woke up. And once again declared to Alan, out of the blue and only half awake, "Morgan almost fell out of a tree."
janetlin: (Curiosity)
I've had two dreams in the past week, after a very long time of not remembering dreams at all, so that in itself is a little odd. But the dreams themselves:

Mom and I are in the car, being pursued/running away from something. Despite the sense of urgency that usually means something/-one is right on your heels, we stopped at a gas station (oh, me and my logical brain). When we get back into the car to drive away, there's a snake sitting on the dashboard. It's coiled up so I can't tell how long it is, but its brownish body is quite thick, its head flat but broad and arrowhead-shaped. I don't know snakes, but looking through Wiki and Google images the closest I can find is a copperhead (though the colors weren't _quite_ that defined, just a muddy golden brown). Really quite a pretty snake, but anyway. I take off my sunglasses and hold them out toward the snake (to extend my reach perhaps? I have no idea why I was doing so). I sufficiently catch its attention, and it lunges at me, catching me on the back of my right hand. While it's attached to my hand, I grab it behind its head with my left hand and pull it away, roll down the window and throw it outside, out onto the street and into oncoming traffic. The first car to come along doesn't kill it, though, just catches it with the outside of a tire enough to send it flying up into the air and off to the shoulder of the road, where the snake then slithers away. The back of my hand is red, with a raised white bump in the center (I have no idea if that's what snakebites really look like). It stings a little, but is really more like a tingle, actually quite like a bee sting. Even after I woke up (and declared to Alan that, "a snake bit me" and then went back to sleep), my hand still tingled in that particular spot. Anyone know the significance of being bitten by a snake in a dream?

Then just last night I dreamed that I and several members of my family were in a jungle where there were natives. There was something precious out in the jungle which my little brother wanted to collect and take home to sell. For some reason, though, my brother _looked_ like a native, not like Rew as I know and love him. This guy was short(er than me), chubby, had tan skin and short straight black hair, but spoke perfect English (though not even with my _real_ brother's voice). Anyway, he'd already been out collecting on a few occasions earlier in the day, and as it was getting late, I didn't want him going out again so close to sunset. He got mad at me so I was trying to explain to him that if anything happened to him, I was going to be the one who had to tell Mom, and it would kill both her and me. Then I hugged him and cried and told him, "You're a god damn pain in the ass, but I do love you."

Then somehow I later found myself deeper in the jungle, up on a platform built in one of the trees. Morgan was with me, as well as my mom, real!Rew, and two Richard Dean Andersons (one MacGyver and one Jack O'Neill, though Jack had a mustache, which looked funny). For some reason, we all were needing to retreat down a hole in the center of the platform to climb down the tree (I don't think anyone was chasing us, but there was definitely a sense of urgency there). I'm frantically searching through the bags people were using to collect things to find one that I could put Morgan in and then carry on my back as I climbed down the tree, while the little monkey herself is apparently fascinated by the edge of the platform. She gets close a few times but I always manage to pull her back, but one time I'm not fast enough and she blithely just walks right off the edge. Not laughing or crying; she didn't seem to be aware at all that the "ground" stopped. Somehow I did manage to catch her by a wrist, though, and decided as I was hanging over the edge and clinging to Morgan's chubby little hand for dear life that I did not want to dream this dream anymore, so I woke up. And once again declared to Alan, out of the blue and only half awake, "Morgan almost fell out of a tree."
janetlin: (Default)
Had an interesting dream last night... (I remembered one, yay!) It was my wedding - well, my next wedding, this was not a memory. It started in the Presbyterian Church in Topeka (which has gourgeous stained-glass windows done by Tiffany). I was in this ivory, bustled 1880's/'90's dress I'd seen in the fashion museum in Florence, and there were tiny red flowers mixed into the white ones in my bouquet. I thought, "Red and white; huh, Christmasy" and the whole scene suddenly shifted. Still a wedding, but now it was on the top floor of some building, in front of a huge bay of windows looking out over a bay and a city at night. My dress was now strapless and no-doubt-about-it white, with either a lace overlay or embroidery on the bodice or something like that. My husband-to-be is conveniently (frustratingly) indistinct in both these scenes. The officiant instructs us to kiss, which we do, and suddenly there are fireworks outside the window, cars honking on the street below, champagne corks popping behind us, and all of our guests cheering, "Happy New Year!" Now, cool as that might be, who gets married at midnight, I ask you?

The really weird thing is that I felt like a totally different person in each scene. I knew that I was still me in both of them (because every now and then my mental camera pans out to show me in third-person view), but in the first I felt relaxed and content, and in the second, I was more bubbly/giggly happy.

I totally want that first dress, though.
janetlin: (Default)
I had this dream the last night I spent in Missouri. Possibly not for those who are squeamish. )

A side note of some educational worth... the scientific name of the Grizzly bear subspecies is Ursus arctos horribilis. How scary does an animal have to be for its distinguishing name to be "horrible," eh??
janetlin: (Default)
I had this dream the night before last:

I am engaged to marry a prince (I think it's Prince William, but his family's... Russian?). We are going to a ball, but it's a "funeral ball". I walk with my fiance up to the building through scads of paparazzi (I don't think there was a red carpet, but that was the feeling). Once inside, my fiance and his father and I sit on the wide marble steps leading down to the dance floor (there are lots of other people doing this, too). But the dance floor is flooded, and there's a man wearing waders standing inside a blue square on the floor and fishing. When he's done, he wades away, but a white tiger approaches him in the water. He puts his foot on the tiger's head and pushes it away. It calmly watches him pass. Then the tiger starts walking toward the steps. Women gasp and people start leaving. I scooch closer to my fiance. The tiger walks up the steps, and I hide behind the prince. As it steps closer, the prince and his father scoot away. I call out to them but they can't hear me over the other women screaming. The tiger walks right up to me. I can't see anyone around me anymore. I put my arms over my face and lean back away. But it keeps walking, and it crawls on top of me. I can feel its claws on my arms and hot breath on my hands as it sniffs me. I'm already holding my breath, but I think, if I can stop my heartbeat, it'll think I'm dead and go away. I black out.

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janetlin

May 2014

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