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Archive for the ‘dream’ Category

Dude, best. I dreamed about a whole bunch of red pandas.

I appeared to be at a concert that was being held for my brother's birthday. I was sitting some way up the auditorium, a nice stone classical affair, and chumming up with someone I think was my old physics teacher.

Some animals came on, and while they were pygmy dachshund-like pigs at first so of course I didn't recognise them, eventually they became identifiable as red pandas, and climbed onto a few people's laps. Their trainer attending servant put one on my brother's lap. I headed down to the front sharpish and got hold of some of the green gobstopper-like treats people were given to feed to them, but the red pandas were already finishing their act.

Cool or what? My logic, which is correct, is that if the wahs have found a way even into my mental fortress, it won't be long before the entire world falls to their cute. The unutterable teases.

Doctor Who: Victory of the Daleks

My scattered thoughts follow.

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So this dream I was some fast-talking guy, American I think (possibly something to do with illness and a big Dexter box set).

I was offering to show my sidekick, another random bloke, a cool trick. This involved a dozing older fellow who was sitting with a big stack of American breakfast pancakes on his head. Using a fork, I would whip one of these from the middle of the stack, without disturbing the rest. Then I would cross out the number on the raffle ticket pinned to the older gentleman's polo shirt and reduce it by one, repeating this with each pancake until the number matched his age.

And this was the best trick ever.

One side effect of my recent inability to wake up in the mornings, even with Rock Radio Manchester blaring at me from the radio alarm, is some really weird half-waking dreams. Let's see, last night/this morning:

Main feature was that my brother had been kidnapped (and you should choose death rather than mess with my brother, because it'll be a lot less pleasant than the wrath I'll visit upon you. Just, y'know, FYI). I was heading out to sort this out.

This is Filibuster. The neighbours think they named him Fergus, but they are wrong.

In the front hall I passed one of my mother's work cases, which had developed a hole. Soil was pouring out of it with a dry wiffle noise. It later started spilling white powder instead. I wondered vaguely if this was a bomb chemical. (No more CSI for you.)

Otherwise the main event was to do with ladders. I declared that the flimsy rope ladder held up by safety pins, for dogssakes, would obviously not support my body weight. My companion, who was much lighter and possibly a cat, climbed up it to demonstrate, but then the tightrope unravelled under its feet and it was forced to conclude that I was right. We spent some time looking for a more stable way to climb to the upper platform. The purpose of this was never explained.

(Have just had to pause typing while I was summoned to come and see the neighbours' cat, whom I have named Filibuster, and who has shown up in our house this morning and begun falling over on everything hoping for tummy tickles. He is usually not disappointed.)

By now I've forgotten all the lesser dreams, but they were weird too. The other 'main' dream involved my somehow stumbling into a web forum frequented or run by Jack, my internets ex.

Jack was a writing partner and, well, I see no need to tell the whole story because the upset and hurt at our eventual split has faded to the point that I barely remember his existence, and indeed am surprised that my dreaming module does at all.

(Have just been summoned AGAIN to see the aforementioned cat trying to cram himself into a box half the size of a shoebox.)

Jack was present, along with his right-hand person who never showed up except when he was there (to the point that I used to wonder if they were the same person and Jack had invented them as a sock puppet to agree with everything he said! This was later disproved to my satisfaction), and some others I didn't know.

Jack had just posted a message (or written a note; for some reason handwriting was also involved) saying he'd seen I'd dropped by and everyone, this is Mutt [my handle, or one of them] and omg <3 and wasn't it nice of me. I cannot imagine Jack being like this.¹

(All RIGHT, mother, no need to come in and tell me the cat is now sitting in the bath asking for a drink.)

I needed to reply, which for some reason involved instructing them not to use the wrong pronoun for me(!) and some other administrative issues. I was debating whether to tell them I'd been the one who saved their website from going offline by picking up the domain and hosting costs. (Honestly, reptile brain, web doesn't work that way.)

Judging by the overall tone, this dream was an indication that I'm empowered and free from all that past negativity and all that hippie stuff. All very fine and Oprah. I just wonder why I'm dreaming about him at all. I feel nothing towards him now. Encountering him again would be like getting to know someone new, not having someone grateful and pleased to see me like he was in the dream.¹

The whole web-hosting stuff may have come from my re-registering a dropped IRC channel last night, mind you… and I do still keep our old domain name active, in case any old friends should look for us there. Oh well.

¹ This would have been more believable.

He wasn't that bad, most of the time, but he had a passive-aggressive, attention-seeking side and he expected to be taken as terribly seriously as he took everything else. Don't worry, I was a severely depressed teen when I knew him, so I was probably nearly as bad in my own way.

Anyway, basically, this isn't a portion of my life I'd decide to revisit out of the blue.

Two dreams…

One in which I was crossing Oxford Road, but the weather was temperate with scattered frictionlessness, so I ended up more or less skating across, still drifting sideways. Surreal and emotionless.

In the other, my home and garden were full of awesome, mostly endangered, wild animals. Um, yes. I watched a few, including a small black tapir-bearcub-wombat-looking thing, chase each other round the garden. Next, I discussed with another human occupant the possibility of the animals' breeding ("you can't be suggesting we separate the red pandas. They're on the brink of extinction!" "Oh, well, if they're on the brink, of course not" – they're actually classified vulnerable, as my naughty avatar well knew, but baby pandas is baby pandas and as such trump strict accuracy).

I wandered into the kitchen, where I decided that the tigers' cages were too small, to be honest, and in addition someone had thought the best way to introduce them was the time-honoured gerbil technique of partitioning one enclosure into two so the new roommates were able to smell each other and grow accustomed. However, I decided this probably would work, and the animals in question were pawing each other like playful kittens, so that was all right.

At one point midway through, I recall thinking "I hate that I can't tell if this is a dream or not." (As you can see, I'm not quite there with the lucid dreaming, but someday!) I also cuddled a pangolin's tummy, but it was not anatomically accurate – more like a tortoise-puppy hybrid with a few lame attempts at scales. I appreciated the effort, though.

My dreams are ridiculously easy to analyse.

Slen and I played Arkham Horror round at someone's house last night. It's great fun! We had eight players plus the host, who GMed (doesn't need a GM, but it was very helpful because some of us hadn't played before). In fact we stayed so on top of things that it was really easy to win, despite the GM doing his best to, erm, 'liven things up' for us. Also, I got some odd looks from cooing in delight over the Hound of Tindalos.

During the game I went and talked to the Black Man for a laugh, seeing as my character had a sanity bonus so couldn't die during that encounter. I failed the roll but couldn't be devoured, found it much funny and didn't think much more of it.

So later last night, erm, I had some dreams.

Very, very whacked-out dreams. And I woke up with a non-existent and horrendous pop song in my head, a song that IMO could have come from nowhere but R'lyeh. It seriously took me about ten minutes to stop being very very confused. I was glad of that sanity bonus.

Am now in perfect frame of mind to have a go at fixing mum's Inspiron.

EDIT:

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I dreamed we were setting up a new board game, but I was tired and knew I wouldn't be able to take in the rules.

This dream confirms two things:

1. My Tuesday night activities are seeping into my subconscious,
2. I am feeling professionally insecure.

I also recall someone in the dream saying this was a cooperative game (i.e. "players against game", not "players against each other" – e.g. Pandemic), which tantalised me, because I've never played a co-op and would very much like to try one. If only to keep from inadvertently pwning Phil.

Currently reading: Women's Work for Weft. Just finished Elizabeth Bear's Dust, about which I hope to post more in future.

Currently wondering: if it makes sense for a hypothetical humanoid, pre-industrial silk-based economy to make some kind of toy that was a hybrid of spindle and yo-yo.

I am currently pwning a pair of jeans that fit me now, and did not before. So anyway, apart from a little writing and gaming with Paul I haven't done much that's interesting these last few days. I've been sleeping a lot and suspect, from the state of my nasal plumbing, that I'm coming down with something not quite bad enough to keep me off work. Well, it never is, is it?

Here, have a story: Apples and Apparitions, or Brimstone and Bribery

Oh, and I've been having wacky dreams, in a boring and still unbearably domestic definition of wacky. One involved my father writing a congratulations card to me, thinking I'd married one of my friends because I'd changed my name. Later on in the dream I was telling three friends about his mistake. We all found the situation funny. I remember that one of the girls was wearing a khimar. She wasn't anyone I know. Are my dreams now to be designed to fulfil Equality Commission quotas or something?

Going to Slen's house this evening for a party. There will be people there I don't know and I won't be able to eat anything or drink anything, so I shan't report further unless by some chance it isn't a mightily awkward waste of time.

A coworker has just drawn my attention to Cherub of the Mist, which would seem to be a 50-minute film about red pandas and therefore made of win.

Speaking of films, I'm going to see The Day the Earth Stood Still tonight with Slen and my father. I have something particular about which to talk to my father…

In addition, I don't have his birthday present ready yet. It's coming along nicely, though! I hope it'll at least be ready to email him for Saturday. Yes, it'd have been nicer to be able to print it off and give it to him, but eh. I can do that at a later date.

Weird, disturbing and still unaccountably domestic dreams last night. For example, someone had stuffed chip wrappers and hot water bottle covers down the toilet. (Well, it was upsetting in dream-context! Plus, I hate things being put in wrong places.)

The night before yesternight I dreamed we had a Rottweiler and two chickens. Evidently I was already getting the hens well trained, because I picked one up and she behaved herself.

In general, I've been having more of the non-crazy, stupidly domestic dreams. My head even bores myself. Dreaming I had held a conversation I hadn't, or dreaming I broke my diet by accident. OK, the latter's a stress dream, and I certainly remember it from last time I was on the non-eaty regime.

It's just bloody confusing, though, and I'd rather get back to stuff I can easily distinguish in my head from reality. Bring on the disturbing semi-metamorphoses, seeing pandas in my back garden or running around gunning stuff down! Frankly, I want to see some head-pyrotechnics. I feel I'm owed this sort of wacky stuff. I am taking my meds like a good pup, after all.

(This entry brought to you by the letter "waiting for a Homesite Extended Search and Replace to finish" and the number 81.8.)

Changed my mind about a fundamental thing concerning the thing I'm working on, which is not a great idea as it's already two days late. I hope it works. I completed part of the bottom bit this morning. Various family members have needed the family computer over the last few evenings, which, yeah, not great. At least it's Friday now, so I have the weekend.

Indeed, the weekend looks like being completely taken up with art things. I'd like to get the thing done for CoworkerD (which will probably only be a head sketch, or series of three, but I have NEVER DONE A HEAD SKETCH BEFORE IN MY LIFE so that's no guarantee of anything). And will finish the fuzzbok picture really roughly because (apart from the fact that I told the recipient I would finish it), as I've said before, at some point I'm evilly going to take out the central figure and put in one of my own, thus making it a me-niverse picture with minimal effort. So it's worth shading the hairy people's fur.

Hopefully will have time for gaming with unbrother too.

I've been dreaming really random everyday things, like my mother letting the Professor (neighbouring cat) into the house, or noticing my brother's bed empty in the morning. They aren't details that would worry me or stick in my mind, which is the weird thing; it's more along the lines of "Didn't I see you petting him in the kitchen yesterday? Weird, must've dreamed it…" I know my dreams are always fundamentally unscary, but they aren't usually dirt boring. It's just so domestic, my dear, it's positively Canis lupus familiaris.

Well, why deny my roots, right?

I'm going through a few-months-long phase of mentally roaring "I'm going to rip your throat out!" at old memories that pop up and bother me. Assertive, see? It sort of partly works ok… except when I find myself muttering same under my breath. This is a point at which I should probably change tactics. And increase my meds.

Unrelatedly, I seem to be getting fanfiction somehow. (I don't mean the evil mindscrewy fluffy stuff I write when I'm bored, either.)

Also unrelated, lulz at the MTV Awards. The best bit is how the linked article… well, you'll see.

I have today added "unboxing" to my vocabulary. It's the geek equivalent of stripteases, in which people film themselves opening the boxes of their new gadgets and show the contents. Here's a new Samsung phone, for example.

I love Lemmings.

Take care all. Peace out.

P.S. "UP" IS NOT A VERB.

The was a weird one. I don't usually do people-dreams. In the first part it was almost like I was having someone else's dream, but reacting to it like I myself usually would. I woke up remembering it fully and the details have stayed with me, unusually.

This took place in somewhere I assume was America. I was with some final-year or penultimate-year high school students in a large area like a gymnasium, not based on anywhere I know. "I" was in fact switching perspectives a little, but I knew about this in the dream; I was possessing various people with the goal of making things happen as I pleased.

It was towards the end of term. The teacher was holding a slightly rowdy meeting of the students, explaining an exercise in which they would have to take part sometime in the coming week. It was a roleplay exercise, although the details escape me (don't think I knew even in-dream).

One of the male students made a comment about it being lame and walked out. At this point I-the-possessing-person jumped into a female student, something of an airhead, in whose body I would be spending most of the dream. I walked over to the teacher and ruffled his combover. (Weirdly detailed for my brain.) "He's just excited because it's the end of term," I/she enthused.

"Get your feet back on the ground, Miss [whatever]," teacher said, straightening his thinning hair, and added something about her having to pass this exercise to get a good grade, and he didn't think she'd do very well. I/she smiled brightly and retreated to stand by a wall, where a male student whom she knew was standing with a few friends. I/she leaned in and was about to speak, but the teacher spoke a little more so I broke off and waited respectfully.

Around this point another male student, who I think looked Pakistani-Asian (another weirdly detailed detail; I never usually notice such things in dreams), made some smartass comment about, despite this roleplaying exercise being made-up, "it's still the closest thing we'll get to being ourselves [in this place]."

My girl and the boy she was next to fancied each other somewhat, still at the flirting stage, which I knew. My goal was to get her on his team for this roleplay exercise. Once the teacher finished talking I/she leaned in again and said "When my family lived in England I used to go on those MOD fortnights. It was like a week and a half of roleplaying. You had to be in-character and work out who the traitor was."

He seemed interested in this total lie that I made up on the spot, being very focused on winning this roleplay exercise. I/she added, for extra versimilitude, "I never won, but I came second one year!"

"You've ruined it now," he laughed. "What?" I/she said. "Well, telling me you went on these spy jaunts and then admitting you weren't all that good at them."

"I got very much better than I was," I/she said coldly and walked off. Behind me the boy said something along the lines of "OK, moody! What'd I say?" (I had the exact words, but forgot them while writing up the rest.)

I-the-possessing-person was satisfied with this, actually, because I was pretty sure they'd end up on the same team, which had been my goal. I didn't care if they argued throughout.

The irony that I myself was roleplaying several students escaped me in-dream.

The disjointed second part of the dream¹ came when I was abruptly back in my own body, and the younger students got out of their assembly and came into our hall. I had time to note briefly that I was in my own body, complete with the compression vest I usually wear. I saw my little brother in the diminuitive throng and quickly got spotted by a friend of ours, who is a real person who used to get our school bus. She was one year younger than Slen, exuberant and quite sweet, but tended to get in trouble for being too rowdy and bullied by other kids because she was Not Generic (which of course is why I liked her).

She came over and I honestly can't remember what she called me, which is a little annoying because I would like to know what my dreaming mind thinks my name is these days. We hadn't seen each other in a while and she asked me how I was and then insisted on introducing me to her younger sibling who had started at the school in the meantime. This was funny. He or she was a smaller clone of my friend. She was saying "[Smaller sibling], you have to meet [whatever my name is] and [Slen]!" and around that time I gradually woke up.

I also spent the next while after waking, including all the time I've been writing this, with the Massachusetts jingle from Family Guy² stuck in my head! When I got up I could hear from downstairs that my mother's watching that show, so maybe I really heard it.

¹ These segments are generally much more grounded in the real world; in retrospect I can always tell when my mind was moving towards a waking state.
² Also, while looking up that clip I discover that it's a parody of a real thing, which makes it funnier.

Dream last night about which I remember nothing but that it was a nightmare and I reminded myself "must write that one down".

Ok this morning. Still worryingly tired after three nights of 8+ hours sleep.

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Dream the night before last:

Running away from some killer, in the company of a portly gentleman who was faster than me. Killer caught me by the belt (of a dressing gown in which I'd gone to sleep), dragged me back to some building, took me up in a lift to the badly-lit top floor and sliced my face off, followed by a few fingers to the first joint. There was the general impression that this would continue.

I think there was some begging on my (female) avatar's part, but the overall show was all very matter-of-fact in tone, no pain and I only remember being annoyed because it was all so damn predictable.

There was (so my dreaming self thought) some really good backstory to the killer, which I forgot. I think that was what irritated me most.

Had finished reading a novella about a torturer online the evening before. This might have had something to do with it. Nothing matched up with the details or themes of the story, though (Quentin-Andrew didn't cut fingers or do the Hollywood film serial killer thing, and the later stages I'd been reading that night were mostly about gods and redemption and an adorably innocent little soul), so maybe not.

P.S. Platonic friendshippery for the win. This is why I'm linking the book, which the author is doing an incredibly thorough job of linkspamming everywhere remotely relevant by desself.

I wish I didn't have to keep dreaming about my biological father.

However, that wasn't what made me actually cry in the dream, and also made me cry upon waking. And also has me up before 07:00 blogging so I can stop thinking about it.

No, that was the song that came on the radio in his car.

The song was about golden retrievers. It was about missing them. It was country.

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I considered being ceremonial about it – rubbing date juice into my gums and saying the adhaan into my ear or something – but in the end, I just boiled up a few sprouts and grilled some synthmeat.

Chewy.

And then brushed my teeth with real toothpaste and mouthwash instead of plain water. Ugh, what a relief. Except for the bleeding gums, which I hope doesn't last.

Gnaargh, and then dreamed I'd made some soup in a blender and my brother stole it. WTF. It's been so nice not having to stress about stupid food.

The babies are here!

Macbeth and his lovely future Queen Consort, Pumpkin, are New Year parents! One day early, too. We're rushing round to see them shortly.

And I dreamed that some kind of apocalypse was going to occur and that my family and I, and apparently some comic book characters at one point, had built an apocalypse-proof home module and grabbed some possessions and were now about to blast into orbit in it. (I think even Green was involved at one point…)

Bits I remember: biggish bedroom with bunk beds, too many beds and not enough storage for our purposes (it was a kit home designed for more people); grabbing some of my clothes(!); taxiing and accelerating then stopping because the military made some kind of mistake and we had to let them pass; grabbing a notebook or two of my stuff; someone mentioning that the construction work had been done by other people, possibly poor or immigrant, which made me guilty as I wondered if they had a module of their own; fumbling with my seatbelt before launch as I almost dropped my satchel and two books (sounds like me) and someone helped me with it.

I can't remember any animals in it, which is horribly depressing. Life without them really would be the end of the world.

Off to see baby gerbils now!