| 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! |
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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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| cough |
[Mar. 8th, 2009|01:43 am] |
| [ | Mood |
| | tired | ] |
Last night I had a dream I can't remember very well, apart from the fact that I seemed to be the last person alive on Earth. I was wandering around my house and my neighborhood, finding everything completely devoid of human life.
Eventually I ended up in my own backyard, where a mutant half-man/half-pig creature leapt out of nowhere and attacked me. In self-defense, I cracked him over the head with a metal pipe I had picked up. He abruptly turned into less of a horrid mutant and more like the Dish of the Day from Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy, smiled, and thanked me for killing him before he died.
Another thing about this dream I remember very clearly is that I was chain-smoking cigarettes throughout it. I've never done that in real life, in fact I hate cigarette smoke, but within the dream it seemed necessary for some reason.
Thursday night I had a more entertaining dream, in which I was a professional wrestler. I was in a match against some big bearded guy, who seemed to have a major crush on me. As we were wrestling, he kept asking me out on dates, and I kept politely declining as we beat the crap out of each other in front of a massive crowd and TV cameras.
"Come on man, you and me, dinner after the show.."
*he flips me into the ropes*
"and then we can go back to my place.."
*he kicks me in the head, I fall, and he pins me*
"it'll be great, whaddya say?"
*I break the pin and pick up a folding chair*
"Listen man, you're a great guy.."
*CRACK as I bash the chair over his head*
"but I'm just not into you in that way.."
*I flip him onto the mat, grab his leg, and twist it around behind his back*
"I hope we can stay friends though.."
And it just went on like that.
I notice a pattern. Perhaps it means I'm not cracking people over the head with things enough in my daily life. |
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| Radio Ga-Ga |
[Feb. 23rd, 2009|09:28 am] |
| [ | Mood |
| | tired | ] |
Last night I had a dream which began at my talk radio gig, where we were discussing and debating a particular issue. I couldn't say what the issue was, but within the dream it was something important.
The show ended, I left that studio and walked to another studio, and guested on a talk show hosted by David Tennant, who was wearing his Doctor Who suit. He picked up on where the last discussion left off, and we continued debating the issue.
After that I went home, entered my bathroom, and found John Barrowman setting up broadcasting gear in my bathtub. The dream ended with Barrowman and I sitting in my tub with the shower running, fully clothed and wearing headphones and microphones, continuing the same debate. |
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| Garth Brooks, eat your heart out. |
[Feb. 13th, 2009|03:08 pm] |
| [ | Mood |
| |  uncomfortable | ] |
In a dream last night I heard the chorus of a country western song. I have no idea if anything like it exists in real life, but it's been stuck in my head and making me laugh all day.
Over traditional twangy country music, the chorus goes:
Baby, if you love me, shave your neckbeard,
I know I been askin' for a while,
If you loved me you would shave that neckbeard,
Surely you know it's way out of style |
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| Exploiting the end of the world for fun and profit |
[Feb. 11th, 2009|10:41 am] |
| [ | Mood |
| | contemplative | ] |
Had a really weird scifi dream last night.
It mostly took place in a grim, industrial, overpopulated future; something like that portrayed in the film Hardware. The world was starving for resources.
Somehow a form of cheap and easy two-way method of time travel had been discovered, but it had very important limits. It could only bring you to a certain point in time a couple of hours before the end of the Earth's life, at some point long after humanity had vanished from the Earth (either dying out or departing into space, nobody knew for certain) as it went crashing into the Sun. Afterward it could bring you back only to the time from which you originally departed.
Scavengers and adventurers had begun exploiting this, zipping to the apocalypse in order to gather up as much scrap and raw materials from the long-dead planet as they could and get back before the world ended, allowing the declining world to subsist on the detritus of its own future. Things like worldwide earthquakes, volcanoes, and other death rattles of the dying planet made this an extremely hazardous occupation beyond the simple time limit and competition from other scavengers.
Of course, you couldn't scavenge the same exact part of the ending world twice; you'd be competing with your younger self and risking paradox. Additionally, other scavengers would not only be able to kill you to stop you getting something they wanted for themselves; they could also find an unsuspecting younger you on a previous mission to attack. It all got very complex and paranoia-inducing; you couldn't trust anyone you met during the apocalypse, just in case they had some reason to dispose of a future self of yours.
I know there's a story or two in this. I may write one myself, but I know quite a few of you out there are writers as well, so please feel free to use this if you like. |
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| Huh? |
[Jan. 23rd, 2009|12:24 pm] |
| [ | Mood |
| | confused | ] |
The other night a receptionist named Rosemary, from a clinic I used to go to when I was a kid, appeared as a random bystander in one of my dreams. I have no idea why; I haven't seen or even thought of this woman for something like 20 years.
I'd attempt to track her down now out of curiosity, but I never knew her last name. |
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| purr |
[Jan. 13th, 2009|09:54 am] |
Strange dreams last night.. I had found a cat in my house that wasn't mine. It was white, but with bright red fur around its eyes in the shape of a domino mask. It had a collar, but no tag. So I picked it up, finding it completely friendly and comfortable in my arms, and walked around town to try and find its owner. After walking for a long time carrying this cat and getting more and more worried that I couldn't find its owner, petting it and feeling it purr contentedly, I looked back down at it. Instead of the strange cat it was suddenly my old cat Patty, who in real life had to be put to sleep last month (though I didn't remember that within the dream.) She was looking up at me with a sense of "what are you so worried about?" So I carried her back home, still petting her and still feeling her purr.
After that I dreamed that I was in a crowded airport, and my favorite backpack had gone missing, upsetting me greatly. Eventually, a young high-school-bully type of guy mockingly shouted something along the lines of "aww, did poor baby lose his backypacky?" and threw it back to me, laughing cruelly. The front pocket had been opened, and everything within had fallen out. This amused the guy even more. I got really pissed and shouted "you bastard, this was full of things my grandfather gave me before he died 20 years ago! They were all I had left of him!" (In real life this is not true; he died over 20 years ago and I most definitely don't carry mementos of him around in my backpack. I'm pretty sure it was a deliberate lie on my part within the dream as well, just to make this guy feel bad about what he'd done to me.) He immediately stopped laughing, apologized profusely, and helped me find the scattered junk that had fallen out.
I have weird dreams when I'm getting over being really sick.
A few days ago, while I was really sick, I dreamed of perilously hopping across rows and rows of railroad tracks in the middle of the night. It was dark, and the tracks were slick from recent rainfall. I was scared of accidentally hitting an electrified rail, but I somehow made it all the way across. It then occurred to me to use the flashlight in my pocket to look back at what I had crossed (why I didn't think to use it while crossing I've no idea) and I realized that I had ended up in my own backyard. Looking down there were more railroad tracks buried in my lawn, just barely exposed at ground level. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 4th, 2009|12:22 pm] |
Last night's dreams involved me stealing a food truck at a carnival, selling all the food, and then driving it inside an office building and tooling around the hallways. I then dreamed I was meeting Ray Charles, but it was the bootleg version as portrayed by Jamie Foxx from the biopic.
The other night I went to sleep feeling ill, and had a feverish dream about an art contest that was open to everyone in the entire world, the theme of which was war. For some reason, I was one of the judges, which resulted in truckloads of war-themed artwork being delivered to my house, filling my street and crowding out all my neighbors. The sheer scale was overwhelming. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 19th, 2008|09:15 am] |
| [ | Mood |
| |  awake | ] |
I dreamed I was running around in the New York Public Library after hours with my girlfriend Nicky, my sister Jo when she was a child, and TV's Wil Wheaton.
The only things I clearly remember about the dream were Nicky and musing each other with our Beavis and Butt-Head impressions (which we do all the time in real life,) discovering that all the library's public toilets were mysteriously filled with sand and gravel (which they are not in real life, at least not last time I visited,) and listening to Wil Wheaton crack geek jokes (which he might conceivably do in real life; I've never met him but he certainly does so on his blog.) |
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| Johnny B. Badde |
[Dec. 16th, 2008|09:32 am] |
| [ | Mood |
| | tired | ] |
The dream from last night I remember most clearly is trying to play a guitar, and failing because the strings were constantly too loose, no matter how much I tightened the machine heads. This sucked because I was alone on stage at a packed arena and expected to rock out or something. |
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| Nachos rule. |
[Dec. 9th, 2008|11:53 am] |
| [ | Mood |
| |  thirsty | ] |
Yesterday evening I drifted off for a bit on my bus home, and had a quick flash of a mental image:
A man in a poorly-lit basement, with strings of tortilla chips strung back and forth among his ceiling like pennants. There were hundreds if not thousands of chips, some moldy, some with decals of foreign flags stuck to them.
The man looked proudly up at the hanging chips and declared, "I've saved one chip from every order of nachos I've ever eaten!"
That was it. |
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| blah |
[Nov. 11th, 2008|11:50 pm] |
| [ | Mood |
| |  mellow | ] |
As I spent most of today sleeping off a migraine, the dreams tended to be a bit muddled and confusing, but there was a really neat one involving a scifi sequel to The Warriors where they were in space.
Well, it was really neat in my unconscious mind, anyway.
I also recently had a Star Trek Voyager dream for the first time in forever, probably because I recently started playing this for the first time in forever. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 10th, 2008|04:23 pm] |
| [ | Mood |
| | contemplative | ] |
Had a nice dream last night in which my girlfriend and I were walking outside in a light midnight snowfall, holding hands and watching the flakes drift to the ground.
As we watched the snowflakes they grew larger, until as they fell to our height they were maybe a foot in diameter and you could see the crystalline shapes glistening in the streetlamps. |
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