| OMG HI! |
[Oct. 21st, 2015|04:29 pm] |
Hello, person!
This note is here to inform folks wandering in that this is not my real blog. I've got a long-running real-life blog on my own website, which has a Livejournal feed set up at ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/syndicated.gif) rob_vincent for friends-page goodness. (Entries on that LJ feed are mere excerpts from the real thing.)
When I signed up to LJ to comment on friends' journals and use communities, I decided to not let this account go to waste by using it as a dream blog. This makes it mostly uninteresting to people who are not me but hey, I've always wanted to journal my dreams. And I'm passing the savings onto you!
I also use this LJ account for the included OpenID, so hello to all of you stumbling in from scattered blog comments. |
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| hmph |
[Nov. 16th, 2009|11:23 pm] |
| [ | Mood |
| |  hungry | ] |
Just dreamed I was a professional Ronald McDonald who got sick of McDonald's food and went across the street to Burger King for lunch, causing a major controversy with news crews and such. |
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| Airport '09 |
[Nov. 13th, 2009|10:29 pm] |
| [ | Mood |
| |  tired | ] |
Dreamed last night of a multi-legged airline trip through three or four different airports. I didn't dream any of the airplane rides, just the stopovers at airports in between. I'd be at one airport, trying to make a flight; I'd make the line to board the plane just in time, and then the dream would cut directly to the next airport waiting for the next plane.
One thing these airports all had in common was good music playing over the PA. I realized when I woke up that this was due to me falling asleep with my favorite music station playing. Lucky thing I didn't pass out to talk radio instead; airport conversations can be so awkward. |
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| Z? |
[Nov. 7th, 2009|10:29 am] |
| [ | Mood |
| |  confused | ] |
Thanks to a bout of the flu, I slept through most of the day yesterday. I had a dream that involved meeting the cast of the early 1990s Zorro TV series at a highbrow restaurant, where they were all having a nice dinner together and invited me to join them.
At some point they stopped being the actors and became the characters, and started fighting with each other. |
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| mist |
[Nov. 3rd, 2009|02:59 am] |
I just woke from a dream in which I was called in for jury duty, but it was way in upstate New York. So I waited for a train which would take me there, on a normal crowded rush-hour Long Island Rail Road train platform. A train with only two cars showed up, but stopped past the edge of the platform and waited there.
Apparently a handful of people were also jurors going to the same place I was, and after enough of our shouting at it the train backtracked enough for us to get on. When I got inside things were much different from the normal commuter trains; instead of seats there were large naugahyde sofas. I found an unoccupied one and sat down, flipping open the paperback novel I was reading; The Mist by Stephen King.
The train ride was much longer than my normal ones, so I casually chatted with the people in the neighboring seats occasionally, but mostly I read my book. As I read it, I noticed it became progressively foggier outside, in line with the events in the book. I knew that we were heading for pretty much the same scenario when we got to our courthouse, but the others in the train seemed oblivious, assuming the fog was how things normally were upstate.
At some point we were suddenly on a bus instead of the train, and we were pulling in front of a huge glass-and-steel skyscraper which was somehow our courthouse. We disembarked, and from the outside the bus was suddenly a normal car. I leaned over to the driver's window said goodbye to the bus driver, who in real life is one of the drivers of a bus line right by my house and who I'm pretty friendly with, and told her to be really careful driving home. As she left, the narrative voice in my mind told me she wouldn't make it back.
The group of jurors seemed to be nervously following me now as they became more freaked out by events; we could barely see the building five feet away. We eventually found the entrance, and went in to a spacious but empty lobby. The only sign of life was a security desk; seated there was the security guard who in real life I see at the radio station I work at once a week. In the dream we didn't know each other, and I approached him to let him know we were the jurors and asked where to go.
He informed us that we were all early and the courts weren't open yet, but we were welcome to get something to eat in the meantime; he took us to a corner of the lobby in which were some old glass-doored refrigerators such as ones you might have found in convenience stores. Inside them were really old-looking burgers, sandwiches, and slices of pizza piled on top of each other with no wrappers or anything. They did not look appetizing, but there was an arcade grabber-claw crane machine in the corner with some bottles of orange juice in it. I took careful note of this as we were headed for the horror from the story, and this would be all we'd have to eat during it. Everyone else was uneasily wandering around the lobby as I looked uneasily through the glass windows of the building all around us, outside of which was entirely white.
Then I woke up. |
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| xkcd |
[Oct. 30th, 2009|03:22 pm] |
| [ | Mood |
| |  amused | ] |
Doc's in today's xkcd!
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| Recursive PD |
[Oct. 25th, 2009|12:58 am] |
| [ | Mood |
| | exhausted | ] |
I dreamed of being a cop. I was doing cop stuff, and suddenly I remembered serving time in prison, and I hoped the other cops wouldn't find out and kick me off the force. Then the dream flashed back to said prison sentence, and while of course it's nowhere I've been in real life, I'm sure it was the same jail I've dreamed about serving time in before many times, including this one I blogged three years ago.
It's always a bit weird when separate dreams link up like that. It's not just this jail; there are specific settings and locations which I've never been to in reality, but are often revisited in dreams and which I recognize having "been" before whether the dream is lucid or not. But for the dream narrative itself to link up like that is even weirder. |
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| Hm |
[Oct. 17th, 2009|01:42 am] |
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In the most vivid dream I had last night, vampires had conquered the world. I survived by consecrating everything I drank into holy water first, making my blood super-holy and therefore deadly to vampires. After one bit me and immediately turned to dust, the rest of them steered well clear of me. |
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| Hm. |
[Oct. 8th, 2009|11:40 pm] |
Of all the celebrities and people I admire who I might dream of meeting, my brain picks Tom Arnold.
I mean, in the context of this dream the whole b-list-actor thing was a front to hide the fact that he was actually a spy on an important top-secret mission for the government who needed my help, but he was still TV's Tom Arnold. He was even wearing his suit and hat from The Stupids.
It's things like this which make me wish my subconscious had a complaints department. |
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| :-( |
[Sep. 4th, 2009|04:56 pm] |
The night before last, I had an awful dream that my kitten was terribly injured and in lots of pain, and there was nothing I could do. It was a graphic and terrible injury which would have been instant death in real life, but in the dream he was still alive and it was extremely heart-wrenching.
It wasn't too long after I woke from that nightmare that my real kitten was wondering why I was being extra cuddly and willfully sharing a plate of chicken with him. |
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| Ole' |
[Aug. 30th, 2009|07:29 pm] |
You know that thing where a nude person lies on a table and people eat sushi off their body?
I dreamed someone I know talked me into posing for that, but instead of sushi I was a build-your-own-taco bar.
Um. Yeah, I don't know either. |
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| we be fast, they be slow |
[Aug. 15th, 2009|03:49 am] |
After staying awake for two days to try and forcefully reset my sleep cycle, I crashed hard yesterday afternoon and slept for about 12 hours. I had an odd dream in which I was a Ghostbuster alongside the guys from the film, and while we were busting ghosts and fighting for our lives I kept stopping to inform Ray Stantz that he should really quit smoking. He wasn't amused.
When I woke up I found a tweet from ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) sidepocket_pro informing me that Ghostbusters is on YouTube. Coincidence???? ..well yes, actually. But still neat. |
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| um. |
[Jul. 23rd, 2009|04:09 pm] |
I dreamed of robbing a grocery store. My accomplices were the band Hanson, and we were dressed in my old Harpo wigs as disguises.
...Yeah, I don't know what to say about that either.
I also dreamed of watching a new Doctor Who episode over the house of an elderly relative I haven't seen or thought of in 15 years, and never really got on with when I did see him, though in the dream he was perfectly friendly. The TV was an old-fashioned console unit with a black-and-white screen, and the control knobs were for some reason embedded in the screen itself rather than next to it. I kept trying to fine-tune in the staticky channel. |
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| brains and names |
[Jun. 29th, 2009|10:53 am] |
The other night I dreamed I was playing with a bird-like creature which had flown into a parked car I was sitting in the back seat of. Its body was smooth, pale yellow, and translucent like jelly. If you held it up to the light and looked hard you could just make out its brain within its head, but it seemed to contain no other organs. I remember being totally amused by this, and saying to someone who was sitting in the front seat, "look, bird brain!" It seemed happy and friendly in a cartoonish sort of way, and I fed it a cookie.
Last night a dream started out with Jim Carrey doing a standup comedy routine. The one subject of the routine I remember was what seemed to be an Indiana Jones knockoff character whose name was Ohio O'Hara. The performance and venue eventually changed to a hacker con type of presentation, and Carrey started giving a presentation on how he had figured out the private email address of some celebrity (I think it might have been Steve Irwin) based on interviews and stuff given over the years. The slightly nonsensical domain name he had deduced struck me as sort of neat, so I just registered it in real life. For now it'll be my spare domain to quietly mess around with and doodle on as a sort of scratch-pad; I've been meaning to get one of those for a while now. |
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| Not looking at the damn penny |
[Jun. 1st, 2009|09:22 pm] |
| [ | Mood |
| |  thoughtful | ] |
The other night I dreamed that time travel was a regular occurrence, and it worked like it did in the old Christopher Reeve film Somewhere in Time.
In that film, a man falls in love with a portrait of a woman from the year 1912. To be with her, he shuts himself in a room surrounded by items from the era, dresses in period clothing, and hypnotizes himself into the past.
In this dream, that was a well-known method of time travel in general use. Every house had a dark empty room built out of old materials for the specific purpose of auto-hypnotic time travel. People amassed collections of vintage trunks filled with clothes and goodies from their favorite eras with which to lock themselves away. The antiques market skyrocketed, and "vintage" eBay auction items were now labeled "time travel aids." The only difference from the film was that in this version, the time travel was purely temporary; you always snapped back to your proper time in a week or so.
It was such a common, mundane occurrence that people even went so far as to surround themselves with the previous month's newspapers in order to pay past-due bills on time. |
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| T-shirts are SRS BSNS |
[May. 19th, 2009|10:37 am] |
| [ | Mood |
| | confused | ] |
Last night before going to bed, I had put a load of t-shirts into the dryer. I just woke up from a nightmare in which I discovered the shirts had been stolen from the dryer in the night.
For whatever reason, this theft affected me far more than it should have or would have in reality. I was extremely furious; screaming profanities at the top of my lungs, grabbing people off the streets and threatening them and demanding that they tell me whether they'd seen anyone walking around with a laundry basket full of black t-shirts, etc. The theft of my shirts had thrown me into full Charles Bronson Death Wish mode.
After not finding my stolen laundry I returned home, which was suddenly the room I had when I was a teenage kid, and I found a partial 12-pack of beer on the floor. I don't and didn't drink beer. This only upset me further; then I woke up.
I still remember the intense fury I felt in the dream; it was at a level not at all easy to get me to in reality, and certainly not over a pile of clothes. I actually had to chill out in bed for a while, doing the whole "it was just a dream" thing for more than a few minutes.
I'm going to hit "post," and then I'm going to go check on my laundry.
ETA: My clothes are fine, which is good because it turns out most of my favorite shirts were in that load. |
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| The mower goes "grrrrr." |
[May. 11th, 2009|12:15 pm] |
| [ | Mood |
| | tired | ] |
Yesterday I pretty much did yardwork all day, and last night I dreamed all night that I was still mowing my lawn.
Nights like this make me very angry with my subconscious. Here we are, in the dream state, where the mind can literally go anywhere and do anything, seeking out rich imaginary and/or spiritual experiences in a limit and consequence free environment, and you've got me doing more damn chores?
Really, brain? That's what you're going to go with tonight? Forget flying freely over mountaintops like the majestic eagle. No need for the thrilling James Bond action movie plots. Eschew the trip in Doctor Who's TARDIS. Never mind young Louise Brooks frolicking in a pool of maple syrup (the real syrup from Vermont, not the cheap imitation kind.) Let's go cut some imaginary grass instead! Yeah! Let's do that!! |
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| I've had quite enough of Jack Benny. |
[Apr. 7th, 2009|09:45 am] |
Last night I had a dream which took place at some big commercial radio station, as part of a weird Groucho Marx tribute performance. I was there to play the drums while a turntablist scratched two copies of the An Evening With Groucho record back and forth. It ended up sounding better than it probably would in real life.
Here's a transcript and an MP3 set of that album. Have some culture! |
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| Showtime |
[Mar. 16th, 2009|11:27 am] |
| [ | Mood |
| | nostalgic | ] |
Back in my high school days, I did stage lighting and other behind-the-scenes stuff for a small regional theatre. It's been ages since that gig ended, but I often revisit it in dreams.
The place was a cramped intimate little venue with a floor-level thrust stage. There were maybe five or six rows of seating, with front row center holding about ten seats, and the actors would have to be careful not to trip over those patrons' feet. Basically, the place was really cozy, and everyone in the room could hear everyone else.
A couple of nights ago I dreamed there was an experimental play going on, which was about an audience watching a play. As such, a new section of theatre seats had been installed on the stage, facing back out into the audience, on which the characters sat. Just to mix things up a bit, some actors from the show were secretly placed in the normal seating sections along with the audience, and a few audience members were seated in some of the stage's seats. I kept shifting roles in the dream; experiencing it more or less simultaneously from the POVs of an actor in the production, a confused audience member, and my teenaged self in the lighting booth.
I have a feeling an actual show like this could be really neat if done right, but it'd probably end up one of those frightfully meta self-referential plays that nobody outside the theatre community would ever dig. |
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| LJ dream |
[Mar. 12th, 2009|08:42 am] |
| [ | Mood |
| | sleepy | ] |
I got home unusually late last night after Off the Hook, quickly caught up on email and LiveJournal, and passed right out.
I follow a number of weird and/or random image communities and RSS feeds here on LJ. When I fell asleep, I dreamed that I was still reading them, only to find that all the images were a repeated cycle of a few photos of me from last night, taken during and after the show. The comment threads were still the standard mixture of amusement, awe, and snark one typically finds on those posts, but nobody seemed to notice that people were posting the same few relatively normal and unentertaining photos of me again and again. |
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