Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Depot Blues

I dreampt (dreamed?) that I got transferred from the Home Depot I'm with now to a really, really ghetto Home Depot in the 'hood. It was like I got transferred from one prison to the other... I was shackled, and they led me inside and I had to go through this jungle of fans (the air-pushing kind) that were covered with little wood planks to get to the main room of the store. When I got there, it was dark & gloomy inside, like an abandoned warehouse, and all the workers -- who were all big black dudes -- were gathered around this big makeshift table, talking. My phone rang -- it was Liz -- and they all made fun of me for having a girly ringtone (I have her ringer set to "Feur Elise" so I'll recognize when she calls). Then, as they were all joking around at my expense, they left the table & went to these lockers against the wall to get dressed for the football game. Yeah, the football game. They're all getting strapped up with pads & helmets, then one of them turns around with this crazy look in his eye, and he runs up to me & plants his helmet in my forehead.

That was it.

Sorry Miss Jaxon

I really have been slipping lately with the remembering these very well. Last night I was in a country town and I was Andre 3000. Not me as him, not him as him. Tom Sawyer as him. Yeah, straw hat, short pants, raggedy shirt and all. I was running from some house down a dirt road and some goon in a trans am pulls in front of me all Dukes-of-Hazard style. Like when hockey players screech and shoot ice chips in the air except there were tons of wood chips. When he got out, I think it was someone I knew but was scared of. I ran through a stone house with no roof into a woods of dead trees with no leaves. There was bluegrass chase music playing too. I don't remember much else but taking a nap at my grandma's house.
Lame memory = blog stock plummet.

Thursday, September 22, 2005

Are we cool?

I had a dream I was in the middle of the video for Gwen Stefani's song "Cool", but it was real life... and when I say "in the middle," I mean that I was the go-between for Gwen and the guy in the video. She'd go off with the guy & have her good times -- it's like sections of the video were playing out -- then she'd come back to me with all the girlie questions & ask me for advice on the guy. Boy, do I sound queer.

He ended up going & getting married to some other chick (just like in the video), and she got mad at me because my advice didn't work.

Sorry, Gwen.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Metal melding

I was driving in seperate cars with Stephen and Mark in the snow in some subdivision and we were going to have a sleepover at our subdivision home. (I've been having snowy driving dreams lately, with lots of grayish blue tints in everything.) We, my dad and I only, lived in some small home that looked like everyone else's on the street just with different tones of brown and grey to tell them apart. Mark pulled into our garage first in some black car. I pulled in behind him, the garage was a one car garage and not very deep.
I got into the garage about to the beginning of the windshield of the car I was driving and Stephen and I got out. My dad came into the garage and he was tons younger than now. Just a little older than us. He asked if we three wanted something to drink. We were like "sure, Squirt." So my dad just turns and opens a fridge full of Squirt and we start drinking them. We were waiting for the rest of the dudes to come for the sleepover when this pickup pulls into the driveway and it's Stephen/my friend Jon and a dude named Matt Lanoue, who I played basketball with in high school was driving. He slowly pulled in, and Mark, normal Stephen, and I were standing between our cars. Matt Lanoue wouldn't stop driving and slowly pushed my car into Mark's car's rear end. He started doing some evil kid hurting small animals smile through the windshield and wouldn't stop driving. We jumped up onto my hood and started yelling at him to stop. He didn't he kept slowly pushing the cars together and they started to mold and bend into some metal pool that was wrapping itself around my legs and Stephens, Mark, you somehow got out. It got higher and higher as he got further into the garage and I found myself yelling like some huge yell to endure the pain and to be strong. I didn't like that Lanoue guy, I guess.

I fell back asleep and had a dream about Amanda and I in a house where everything was bare splintery wood. We were hiding from something. Amanda heard a noise and ran into a room and I just kind of hid to the side of the door behind something like a cabinet. I started to get really really scared because as the thing got closer it started to suck random things out the front door at light speed like a black hole. When it got right to the door there was a moment like in the eye of a storm for build up and then this greenish person with no eyes and glowing and totally horrific moved across the floor of the room I was in without moving just like sliding on his feet. Kind of like stop motion. This was one of the scariest feelings I've ever had in a dream. Also when I woke up I instantly had the "Oh God, you are my God, and I will ever praise you" song in my head, and still do.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Tennis players: China needs you!

We drove to China to watch a college basketball game. As we were leaving the parking lot, we saw my grandparents who just happened to be there too. My mom told us that China was in desparate need of singles tennis players to play/practice against and she thought we should stay another day to help out. I got frustrated because it was going to cost a lot of money and we were going to have to bribe officials to be allowed to do all of this. Plus I had already missed some work, and I just couldn't stand to miss any more than I had to.

Monday, September 19, 2005

Keep on down keep on down the road

I was in the visiting area at a jail, but I'm not sure if I was a prisoner or a visitor because I was alone. In another part of the room sat Diana Ross, and she wasn't looking very good nor did she look at all like Diana Ross. But she could still sing, and she did when the guard told her to "turn on the radio." Which I guess meant "sing."
Later I was the only one in the room, which had lots of crazy diagonal walls and frosted glass windows. I thought about trying to escape but instead I just posed as a janitor in the kitchen.
Then I was playing golf with my family in this snowy mountian landscape. I was trying to put vertically into this weird-shaped "cup" that was basically a gouge out of a cliff-face.
Then my parents flung my brother Dave with this biblical-style slingshot into an algae-covered creek. They did something to Mark, too, but not to me.
Maybe they felt bad because I was so horrible at mountain golf.

This is what a dream looks like.

Two points, two questions.
Point 1: I am planning on this for my next dream. Point 2: Dreamcatchers should be involved in all notable art pieces, fo sho!

Question 1: Can someone put this picture as the header for the blog page? And someone rename the blog, too. Question 2: Have you ever seen anything as cute as that puppy dressed like Pooh and sleeping with that hunny jar?

Saturday, September 17, 2005

Can you throw it o'er your shoulder?

So last night I was in the Army. Not like you'd think, though... we're talking Continental, old-school type Army. Actually, come to think of it, I don't remember what color coat I had on -- blue or red... British red, I think. But it was old-school, and I was on this special team that did covert ops (with red coats on), and except for the guns, all of our equipment was high-tech & current. We got this assignment to blow up this bridge as someone important was going across it. So we maneuvered underneath it, completely undetected.... and when the motorcade came through, we blew it up & completed the mission. We emerged from underneath it completely unscathed, and had to run for our lives through this hilly field, with explosions & bullets whizzing by all around us.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

I have arrived

So after a long and painful journey, I have successfully posted to this blog.
But my most recent dream was a couple of nights ago and is barely memorable.
I was sitting at this table at the non-existent house of a childhood friend, about to play some board gamerwith her and her father. Unbeknownst to them, I was actually naked, but the tablecloth hid this, so I was not ashamed. Just a little worried about being found out. Luckily, this other girl that rode my bus in 6th grade, knew my secret and discreetly pushed my HC gym bag toward me. I'm assuming it had clothes in it, but I never got to find out if I somehow snuck (?) them on.

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

I hate these dreams

Alright, I'm totally sick of having these dreams. Kurzen, what the frick, man? Basketball is so stupid, I thought I didn't care anymore, but maybe I do, I still have dreams. So last night, it started that I was driving in the snow and I'm me. Me right now, 25 and all that out of shape crap. I'm driving in the country and eveything is bluish and nighttime and winter and snowy. I'm near Huntington. I don't know where I'm going until I'm there and it's Platt's house. It's just about time for practices to start and I'm late this year but apparently I'm going to some team sleepover at the Coach's house. Neither Platt nor his wife are there and instead Jordan and Andy Kurzen are like "supervising" the guys who are playing for Huntington this year but are like 7 years old and playing on a little hoop in their pajamas with a foam ball. I walk in like everyone on the team should know me and say, finally, Matt's here! Like Jimmy Chitwood or something, but this doesn't happen.
I guess Kurzen knows that I think I'm gonna play this year and lovingly tries to talk me out of it before Platt gets home. This conversation makes me have a very scared feeling, because when Platt gets home he'll shoot me or something. Also, Andy has not volunteered for his position as babysitter for these tiny-toon sized ballers. He's under watch and is like a slave. I am very scared and realize that I cannot play well anymore anyway and try to get out of the house quick. The thing is I can't find the right door and the snow is getting bad to where I may not be able to drive. When I finally get outside there are helicopters like in Conspiracy Theory and I'm slipping and running and falling to my car. I take off and find that I have to live on campus again and start school over. I hate that I still deal with this subject subconsciously. I DON'T CARE ANYMORE! Aaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggghhhhhhhh!!!!!!

Monday, September 12, 2005

Feelin' Hothothot

So, I had this two days ago but didn't have a chance to write it until now. It started with an old abandoned house and everything was shades of grey with some blues. There were lots of people that I knew who looked sick. I didn't know what we were doing, but supposedly we were waiting for breakfast that never came. All of a sudden the sun comes out and this like gameshow host/athletic trainer comes out from some trees with a microphone. He announces that there will be a competition in which we will be divided into couples and will have to go through this obstacle course and dangerous journey all mixed up into one. Then I notice that Amanda is my partner and the tree open like a curtain on a stage and we see this mountain/volcano and forest and river is our course.
We take off and lots of the couples are hilarious mixes. Phillips is with Pat Riley, Stephen is with Bowser's son from Mario World. Amanda and I are doing well over the rolling logs on the river and through the hiking trails. I realize that people are just randomly eliminated by just laughing really hard and turning around with arms around each others shoulders. When we get to the middle of the mountain, we have to enter into this volcanic entrance where it is kind of like the place where Froto goes to throw the ring into the fire. Except we have to walk across the lava for like 4 miles. The only way you could walk across was if you held this cold bottle of vodka and every step you took would instantly freeze the lava. I made it about halfway when Amanda and I were like, this is soo dangerous.

Friday, September 09, 2005

Crack & Stephen King

I feel like I'm on crack sometimes when I remember what I've dreampt the night before.... here's one such example from last night.

It opens up in this little podunk town, and I see an old high-school friend of mine walking down the street, donned in a tuxedo, along with the rest of his wedding party. We didn't say anything to each other. I walk past them & go down the street a bit more, and some jack yells from the bed of a pickup truck, "You're a drunk who drinks alone!" I'm thinking to myself, "This guy has obviously mistaken me for someone else," but I was offended nonetheless.

I get in my Tahoe with a friend of mine who has no face, and we leave town. On the edge of town, we see this huge line of cars coming towards town, like at the end of Field of Dreams. I knew somehow that they were all hunters & fishermen, and since they belonged to this town whose citizens were so rude, I thought, "I should put 'DNR' (Department of Natural Resources) on the side of my truck and block the road." And sure enough, "DNR" appeared on the side of my truck, and I blocked the road. I was pretty happy with what I'd done.

The road gets backed up for miles & miles, and all the hunters' and fishermens' kids get out of the cars and start running & playing in a grassy field that was next to the road. The field was filled with piles of tiny dead chickens, with the feathers already plucked out, and the kids arranged themselves like they were going to play baseball. They skewered all these chickens and were holding them like bottle rockets, and the "pitcher" shot them at the "batter", but the batter didn't have anything to hit with, so the chickens just whizzed by & hit the catcher in the chest.

I'm standing there watching this all transpire, and none other than Stephen King walks up beside me and says to me, "This is great stuff -- I can use this." Then I woke up.

One of the more bizarre dreams I've had in a while, I have to say.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

Mo' Money, Mo' Problems?

I was dreaming craziness last night (might've been the Mexican food I ate).... I'll try to remember most of the details, on this, my virgin post.

So I'm in this fairly new & completely ginormous house with a guy that looks just like a former boss of mine -- a complete jackass, by the way -- who had just robbed a large bank and had millions of dollars with him. He offered me $1 Million to take the money and keep it safe at my house, because he thought authorities would soon be looking for it there. I agreed, and it flashes to this house that is apparently mine, and my wife & I are up in the attic staring at all the money in this huge duffle bag. For some reason, we can only see the $1 Million that is ours (I must've hid the rest really, really well), and I'm rattling off all of the things that we can now pay off with the money... all the while sweating bullets because I know we're going to get caught. My plan was to hurry up and pay off all my debts before anyone caught us with the money -- that way, at least I'd be a convict with no debt.

When I woke up, I was pissed because I realized there was no big bag of cash in my attic. Only debt and a job at the Home effin' Depot.

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

You stealing stuff, man?

So last night was weird because my roommate's girlfriend stayed in his bed in my room last night with just me. It was fine but I was concerned that I would talk in my sleep or something and wake her up. (I guess I still am a little bit self-conscious.) Anyway, she was sleeping all quiet as I was dreaming about my roommate (her boyfriend who was not there that night) driving his car in the other room, and backing up to rear-end another car and I knew it would be totally disastrous and loud. I couldn't yell to tell him to stop because that would wake her up in real-life. I didn't know what to do so I snapped my fingers to try to get his attention. When I snapped the third time I realized that snapping also makes a loud sound and I woke up because I realized I was really snapping. She didn't hear it.

Then I fell asleep again and dreamt that I had moved to some really criminal area in a big city apartment above some store and lived alone. I came home from work or something and realized the door was unlocked. I walked into the place and realized that someone had stolen lots of my "stuff." However, they didn't steal the computer which is actually the only thing worth stealing that I own, unless you love college art class paintings and drawrings. So I'm just sitting wondering why people were just stealing dumb crap like records and shoes when the door opened and some old dude walked in and started picking through stuff like it was his. I said, "Hey, you stealing stuff, man?" "What you doin'?" He stood there for a second and then ran out the door and down the stairs to the street. I wrote down his license plate # for insurance for some reason.

Friday, September 02, 2005

KEEP Dreaming, C'mon.

Oh man, so it's been along time since dreaming occured and was henceforth enscribed upon this blog. I wonder if other people would know about this dream notebook than maybe they could write dreams too. I still like this idea. Obviously my two co-dreamers haven't really enjoyed the blog THAT much... but I haven't made it that fun either.

So, from now on, For every three dreams posted on this :)DREAM-4-EVER:), you will get one dream sent directly to your sleeping brain ABSOLUTELY FREE! Now what! Also,

I had a dream involving some major military actions in Suriname ( I have no idea where that even is or what it looks like, but I was there.) and there were squirells jumping in and out of holes in the ground whenever explosions took place. This is a weak dream with very cloudy recollection.

God Save Us.