2/14/10
I'm going to the movies at a theater like Film Forum. They're showing old Star Trek movies. I'm going with some guy, some nerd, maybe Will or Tim, who is really excited. I'm tepid but willing to humor him. We sit down near the front. The movies are called "Mind" or "The World", some big ideas. In it, the story is that Spock has the power to grow enormous. His head extends down in long curves, following the lines on his face, like his frown lines and eyebrows. Around him everything shrinks down, until he's a ship or a planet floating in space and everything is on him. The colors are dark orange and red, with filaments like tree branches or hairs or neurons floating in black and velvety brown space. I'm impressed by the movie. When intermission happens, Patrick is there. I forgot we had a date. I'm kind of pleased to see him but also kind of annoyed.
Later, sleeping in: I'm in my apartment, which is sort of a concrete bunker and cold. I have two beds but live alone. Nick is visiting and he starts to kiss me. Someone set us up and I can finally confess that I've had a crush on him a long time. We start to make love and then I notice there are two women on one of my beds. One of them interrupts and starts hectoring me about a friend of hers named Theodora who needed a place to stay with her baby. At first I feel bad--like did I forget? I can't remember. But then I get angry and start to attack the woman.
Showing posts with label acting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label acting. Show all posts
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Model Failure; Violent Boyfriend; Ostrich Dance; Tintin Guys; Laundry
2/9/10
I was a model for my boss. She asked me if I would play the young ingenue character for fewer photos and less money, and I tried to convince her that I should be the older more sophisticated character. I pulled my hair up and gave her the profile. She was not convinced and I was annoyed.
One of my friends had a violent boyfriend. We were in high school or a carnival, somewhere really crowded. He pulled her long hair and she was frightened. We ran away deep into the school or plaza. We found a lot of people getting ready for a dance performance. There was a little kid in an ostrich costume doing a crazy dance and saying "I haaate feathers!"
I was on the top deck of a boat, or on a rooftop. There were a bunch of nerdy older guys with lots of facial hair wearing Tintin clothes or holding up a book of postcards. I impressed them with my Tintin knowledge.
A big glass room.
I was doing laundry. I recognized a lot of my real clothes, a silvery sweater, pink pajamas. As you did laundry a second tub filled on the floor and you took a bath at the same time. I had to duck under the water to wash my hair.
I was a model for my boss. She asked me if I would play the young ingenue character for fewer photos and less money, and I tried to convince her that I should be the older more sophisticated character. I pulled my hair up and gave her the profile. She was not convinced and I was annoyed.
One of my friends had a violent boyfriend. We were in high school or a carnival, somewhere really crowded. He pulled her long hair and she was frightened. We ran away deep into the school or plaza. We found a lot of people getting ready for a dance performance. There was a little kid in an ostrich costume doing a crazy dance and saying "I haaate feathers!"
I was on the top deck of a boat, or on a rooftop. There were a bunch of nerdy older guys with lots of facial hair wearing Tintin clothes or holding up a book of postcards. I impressed them with my Tintin knowledge.
A big glass room.
I was doing laundry. I recognized a lot of my real clothes, a silvery sweater, pink pajamas. As you did laundry a second tub filled on the floor and you took a bath at the same time. I had to duck under the water to wash my hair.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
The Heroine; Dog Nose; Camping
1/16/10
I had a dream in two parts. They were the continued adventures of a novel or movie heroine.
In the first part, a young woman--alternately me and seen by me--goes to a friend's house in California. The cast is a wholesome multi-culti mix of pretty young people. The heroine bops around the idyllic property, somewhat in the woods, until she comes on a neighbor's house and comes close enough to see that dog lying apparently asleep on the porch has been killed and mutilated. Its nose has been sawed off and it's dripping mucus or pus or something clear and viscous. She undertakes a mystery to find out if the neighbor did this. It keeps a sort of rom-com feel rather than a thriller feel.
In the second part, the heroine undertakes to drive a van full of prisoners. It's not clear if she's just transporting them or if she's breaking them out. The prisoners adore her and she stops to get groceries for them to cook as they sort of camp out.
I really like the sort of cinematic take this dream had. The drama was one step removed but still satisfying. I liked shifting in and out of the point of view of the heroine. When I was looking at her she had curly hair and blue eyes. Maybe Maggie Gyllenhallesque?
It reminded me of the half assed camping trips I would take with my brother and cousin in Arizona when we visited my grandmother. We spent more time thinking about what music we would play in the car than if we actually knew how to set up the tent. One time we went camping in the snow bowl in Flagstaff and woke up covered with little glowing blobs. We freaked out until we realized they were glow worms and then we were delighted.
I had a dream in two parts. They were the continued adventures of a novel or movie heroine.
In the first part, a young woman--alternately me and seen by me--goes to a friend's house in California. The cast is a wholesome multi-culti mix of pretty young people. The heroine bops around the idyllic property, somewhat in the woods, until she comes on a neighbor's house and comes close enough to see that dog lying apparently asleep on the porch has been killed and mutilated. Its nose has been sawed off and it's dripping mucus or pus or something clear and viscous. She undertakes a mystery to find out if the neighbor did this. It keeps a sort of rom-com feel rather than a thriller feel.
In the second part, the heroine undertakes to drive a van full of prisoners. It's not clear if she's just transporting them or if she's breaking them out. The prisoners adore her and she stops to get groceries for them to cook as they sort of camp out.
I really like the sort of cinematic take this dream had. The drama was one step removed but still satisfying. I liked shifting in and out of the point of view of the heroine. When I was looking at her she had curly hair and blue eyes. Maybe Maggie Gyllenhallesque?
It reminded me of the half assed camping trips I would take with my brother and cousin in Arizona when we visited my grandmother. We spent more time thinking about what music we would play in the car than if we actually knew how to set up the tent. One time we went camping in the snow bowl in Flagstaff and woke up covered with little glowing blobs. We freaked out until we realized they were glow worms and then we were delighted.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Lead-headed Baby; Dancing In Museum
1/13/10
Walking through a model village in Africa. My mother is there and says she's eager to see the lead-headed baby. This sounds like a terrible racial epithet and I'm mortified. My mother explains that it's the offspring of a pygmy woman and a Hottentot and that it's a giant, sixty feet tall. I'm incredulous.
I go to the museum with M and J. I eat leftover middle eastern food. It's delicious and I make a big mess, spreading my little plastic containers and wax paper everywhere. M is sitting at the head of the table and J is on her right. Suddenly a tune starts and she and J jump up and start dancing. They're dancing the same steps, a little clumsy, but with great intensity. They're both wearing outlandish costumes, brightly colored. There's a step where they both jump and then a trumpet starts up and the tune is recognizable now. They form a sort of conga line and it's incredible, everyone knows the steps. I think about joining them but I would have to get up and stow all of my stuff. Suddenly a sinister man with two many fingers on his hands comes up and tells them they have to stop. He's the museum guard. The dancers disperse. Later, when we're looking at some drawings, a nebbishy young guy comes up and tells M her dance was good. He's just moved to NY. M tells the guy that she's lived here all her life.
Not so strange I should dream about Africa. Last week during a conversation about Africa I became ashamed of my ignorance and have spent all week studying maps. But why my mother? It was my father who lived in Africa for twenty years.
M's been on my mind a lot lately. I have strong, mixed feelings about her. I think she's perfectly nice but I'm shyer around her than I like to be. The other night when we were out with a mutual friend she said I should sit in the middle because I was so quiet. I thought, who is she talking about?
Walking through a model village in Africa. My mother is there and says she's eager to see the lead-headed baby. This sounds like a terrible racial epithet and I'm mortified. My mother explains that it's the offspring of a pygmy woman and a Hottentot and that it's a giant, sixty feet tall. I'm incredulous.
I go to the museum with M and J. I eat leftover middle eastern food. It's delicious and I make a big mess, spreading my little plastic containers and wax paper everywhere. M is sitting at the head of the table and J is on her right. Suddenly a tune starts and she and J jump up and start dancing. They're dancing the same steps, a little clumsy, but with great intensity. They're both wearing outlandish costumes, brightly colored. There's a step where they both jump and then a trumpet starts up and the tune is recognizable now. They form a sort of conga line and it's incredible, everyone knows the steps. I think about joining them but I would have to get up and stow all of my stuff. Suddenly a sinister man with two many fingers on his hands comes up and tells them they have to stop. He's the museum guard. The dancers disperse. Later, when we're looking at some drawings, a nebbishy young guy comes up and tells M her dance was good. He's just moved to NY. M tells the guy that she's lived here all her life.
Not so strange I should dream about Africa. Last week during a conversation about Africa I became ashamed of my ignorance and have spent all week studying maps. But why my mother? It was my father who lived in Africa for twenty years.
M's been on my mind a lot lately. I have strong, mixed feelings about her. I think she's perfectly nice but I'm shyer around her than I like to be. The other night when we were out with a mutual friend she said I should sit in the middle because I was so quiet. I thought, who is she talking about?
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Spider Romance; Flying Skateboard
1/12/10
I was at a beach? Feet sinking in sand. Waiting for something.
At E's house. Her mom is around too. I drive to the strip mall, near the bagel shop. An order of two bagels costs $31 and I'm outraged. I go back to the house, realizing it doesn't make sense to go back to my car. My license is expired, anyway. I interrupt a therapy session E is having. There are potted plants everywhere. And frat boys. Some of them I know, they're pretty nice guys. One of them starts up an electronic Christmas globe. You have to peel back the rubber face of the figure in the globe to hit the switch on his eye. It starts into a musical about two spiders who fall in love which turns into like an urban romance sitcom. Then about Spiderman. Spiderman lets frat boys egg him on and he gives Mary Jane a flying skate board for herself. She floats to the ground and tosses her engagement ring up into the air. I wonder why they replaced Tobey Maguire with a fat guy with dreadlocks to play Peter Parker.
I go to some fancy store to buy corduroy pants. There are also gloves with cut out fingers. For guys, the gloves are just plastic tubes shaped like sharks.
This was a sketchy memory. I woke up really sleepy and kept hitting snooze. I didn't write it down in a notebook first. It wasn't a very satisfying dream. I spent a lot of it confused and irritated. In retrospect it was pretty funny but I didn't enjoy it at the time.
I was at a beach? Feet sinking in sand. Waiting for something.
At E's house. Her mom is around too. I drive to the strip mall, near the bagel shop. An order of two bagels costs $31 and I'm outraged. I go back to the house, realizing it doesn't make sense to go back to my car. My license is expired, anyway. I interrupt a therapy session E is having. There are potted plants everywhere. And frat boys. Some of them I know, they're pretty nice guys. One of them starts up an electronic Christmas globe. You have to peel back the rubber face of the figure in the globe to hit the switch on his eye. It starts into a musical about two spiders who fall in love which turns into like an urban romance sitcom. Then about Spiderman. Spiderman lets frat boys egg him on and he gives Mary Jane a flying skate board for herself. She floats to the ground and tosses her engagement ring up into the air. I wonder why they replaced Tobey Maguire with a fat guy with dreadlocks to play Peter Parker.
I go to some fancy store to buy corduroy pants. There are also gloves with cut out fingers. For guys, the gloves are just plastic tubes shaped like sharks.
This was a sketchy memory. I woke up really sleepy and kept hitting snooze. I didn't write it down in a notebook first. It wasn't a very satisfying dream. I spent a lot of it confused and irritated. In retrospect it was pretty funny but I didn't enjoy it at the time.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Chinese Class; Vampire House: Train: Costume Party
1/9/10
Chinese class. I'm sitting around a big table. Our Chinese teacher is actually Italian. I haven't studied and I don't know what section I'm supposed to be in. The teacher hands out pages from instruction manuals and magazines. We're supposed to look at pictures and the articles and tell stories about them in Chinese. I do a fumbling job. My article is about a country singer. I can remember how to say "She likes eggs" but I can't remember how to say "music". I see that my Chinese hostess mother is overwhelmed with big colorful rubber bands and I offer to take some back. She's delighted.
I'm in a big, stately house with garden elements, like the mezannine is a garden. There are zombies or vampires everywhere. It's supposed to be kind of humorous. We bury our Homer Simpsonesque dad. We brush the dirt back from his face so he can still talk to us and his long lips poke out above ground. I fight monsters off with a wooden flute or something. I wear a metal eye patch. Someone comes up with a plan to blow us all up when he becomes a vampire. To prepare for this, I collect some little wooden toys--like a rooster watch and a puppet of an animal playing the drums. I go to my room and offer to share it with another Vampire woman.
I'm trying to flee town on a train. I jump off the platform at the last minute and grab it. Then I realize I don't have a ticket or any money. The conductor comes by and I have to prove my identity. We stop at another station and I scramble to try to get a ticket but the train is leaving again. This time I have to outrun it and leap on. Other hobos are impressed. The conductor, who is the doorman Willy from my office, stands around boredly while I produce ticket stubs with mangled versions of my name on them. Finally he says my driver's license will do, so I show him that. He tells me the ball of brown yarn I have in my bag is dangerous.
It's a village wide festival of costumes. I walk past people dressed elaborately. There's a guy dancing in the river and I yell at him to keep dancing. I get to an old but pretty factory where a guy has set up a huge juice factory. Old machines are squeezing citrus and the juice rushes into a porcelain tank. He's also making opaque but beautiful juice out of pears. His role is as juice gangster.
What a beautiful, elaborate, exciting dream. The most fun was outrunning the train and jumping on it. The Chinese class was both a little anxious and a little fun. When I woke up I was pleased at myself for remembering so much Chinese even in my dream. The costume party was so fun and comradely. The juice factory was beautiful. I couldn't wait to drink the delicious juice.
A couple of things: I seem to dream an awful lot about putting on costumes or plays. It's interesting that when I was looking for someway to prove who I was, I couldn't find anything with my name on it correctly. There were a lot of botched variations.
Chinese class. I'm sitting around a big table. Our Chinese teacher is actually Italian. I haven't studied and I don't know what section I'm supposed to be in. The teacher hands out pages from instruction manuals and magazines. We're supposed to look at pictures and the articles and tell stories about them in Chinese. I do a fumbling job. My article is about a country singer. I can remember how to say "She likes eggs" but I can't remember how to say "music". I see that my Chinese hostess mother is overwhelmed with big colorful rubber bands and I offer to take some back. She's delighted.
I'm in a big, stately house with garden elements, like the mezannine is a garden. There are zombies or vampires everywhere. It's supposed to be kind of humorous. We bury our Homer Simpsonesque dad. We brush the dirt back from his face so he can still talk to us and his long lips poke out above ground. I fight monsters off with a wooden flute or something. I wear a metal eye patch. Someone comes up with a plan to blow us all up when he becomes a vampire. To prepare for this, I collect some little wooden toys--like a rooster watch and a puppet of an animal playing the drums. I go to my room and offer to share it with another Vampire woman.
I'm trying to flee town on a train. I jump off the platform at the last minute and grab it. Then I realize I don't have a ticket or any money. The conductor comes by and I have to prove my identity. We stop at another station and I scramble to try to get a ticket but the train is leaving again. This time I have to outrun it and leap on. Other hobos are impressed. The conductor, who is the doorman Willy from my office, stands around boredly while I produce ticket stubs with mangled versions of my name on them. Finally he says my driver's license will do, so I show him that. He tells me the ball of brown yarn I have in my bag is dangerous.
It's a village wide festival of costumes. I walk past people dressed elaborately. There's a guy dancing in the river and I yell at him to keep dancing. I get to an old but pretty factory where a guy has set up a huge juice factory. Old machines are squeezing citrus and the juice rushes into a porcelain tank. He's also making opaque but beautiful juice out of pears. His role is as juice gangster.
What a beautiful, elaborate, exciting dream. The most fun was outrunning the train and jumping on it. The Chinese class was both a little anxious and a little fun. When I woke up I was pleased at myself for remembering so much Chinese even in my dream. The costume party was so fun and comradely. The juice factory was beautiful. I couldn't wait to drink the delicious juice.
A couple of things: I seem to dream an awful lot about putting on costumes or plays. It's interesting that when I was looking for someway to prove who I was, I couldn't find anything with my name on it correctly. There were a lot of botched variations.
No I Will Not Hang Out With You; Bug House; Censorship
1/7/10
I get into a van in a gravel parking lot
Going to the movies with my brother and my loathed ex, JM. JM is scruffy and pimpled. We go to lunch after and my brother discreetly finds another seat so I'm alone with JM who wants to spend more time with me.
Maybe the movie but then I'm in it--John Flansberg from TMBG is in a dangerous construction site. An old house all crushed in with pieces of broken timber poking out. I gingerly follow in. I soon realize that each little fallen in room is also full of huge, hairy, neon colored venomous insects. They are glossy and wet-looking too. I watch an ant-like creature the size of my hand slowly scramble out from other a piece of debris. I'm hesitant to cross the room at first but then I remember I've brought my toad. I take the toad out and he eats a path of insects for me so i can go through the room.
Putting on a play with kids about their ancestors. Someone goes through the library and picks out all the racist books. I'm sitting there, pulling up my shiny blue socks and drunk. I say that while racism is terrible, I'm against censorship.
I'm making furniture in an old house. There's a primitive iron chandelier and old carpets on the floor.
Video game of bowling or driving--the point seems to be knocking down things that look like long skinny traffic cones.
Okay, what the hell is going on with the first dream of the night being about getting into a van? That's always the part I remember least. But I've had three dreams this week about running away or traveling and two of them start with getting into a van in an empty outdoor lot.
Again with the young black kids putting on skits.
I loved the part of the dream with the toad. I was looking at the insects, thinking hey, normally I don't have a problem with bugs but these are gross, and then remembering the toad at the last minute. I was really pleased with myself for being prepared and very fond of my toad.
I get into a van in a gravel parking lot
Going to the movies with my brother and my loathed ex, JM. JM is scruffy and pimpled. We go to lunch after and my brother discreetly finds another seat so I'm alone with JM who wants to spend more time with me.
Maybe the movie but then I'm in it--John Flansberg from TMBG is in a dangerous construction site. An old house all crushed in with pieces of broken timber poking out. I gingerly follow in. I soon realize that each little fallen in room is also full of huge, hairy, neon colored venomous insects. They are glossy and wet-looking too. I watch an ant-like creature the size of my hand slowly scramble out from other a piece of debris. I'm hesitant to cross the room at first but then I remember I've brought my toad. I take the toad out and he eats a path of insects for me so i can go through the room.
Putting on a play with kids about their ancestors. Someone goes through the library and picks out all the racist books. I'm sitting there, pulling up my shiny blue socks and drunk. I say that while racism is terrible, I'm against censorship.
I'm making furniture in an old house. There's a primitive iron chandelier and old carpets on the floor.
Video game of bowling or driving--the point seems to be knocking down things that look like long skinny traffic cones.
Okay, what the hell is going on with the first dream of the night being about getting into a van? That's always the part I remember least. But I've had three dreams this week about running away or traveling and two of them start with getting into a van in an empty outdoor lot.
Again with the young black kids putting on skits.
I loved the part of the dream with the toad. I was looking at the insects, thinking hey, normally I don't have a problem with bugs but these are gross, and then remembering the toad at the last minute. I was really pleased with myself for being prepared and very fond of my toad.
White Rose; School Theatricals; Shopping For Glass
1/6/10
Going on a trip. Bundling kids into a van
Visiting a boyfriend at the cafeteria of a big business or college. I don't recognize who the boyfriend was, but he was nerdy. We have lunch with two friends, British brothers named Tom and Sam who think I'm funny. Go back to bf's house and kiss but when it's time for sex I insist on a condom. He's holding a white rose. I'm not sure if the rose is intended for me or if he's in love with the rose himself. He refuses to have sex and I'm terribly upset. I go upstairs where he has a row of old boom boxes.
In a class. I look at an old picture of grade school. We're in a school theater--makeshift out of the cafeteria or something. Student groups present skits. They're wearing beautiful clothes from a costume box. Old tablecloths and curtains with beautiful patterns are folded into tunics and robes. I am watching myself in a skit. It's about a time traveling black kid.
I babysit my niece. She wants me to read Where The Wild Things Are.
I go to a big department store. It's like a cross between a sketchy discount store like Ocean State Job Lot and H&M or something. The front is a grocery store and I compare the price of broccoli raab. In the display is a tiny Christmas tree decorated with a sparkling boot. I wander into the clothing section and go to try on a blouse when I find I've taken off my pants. I manage to get them back on and abandon the clothes for a section of the store that's a junk shop. I find boxes full of bottles made of Roman glass and old boxes of film.
This dream had some anxiety but the colors and patterns were very beautiful. At the end, the Roman glass was the most spectacular. It's old glass that's semi-melted or something and has an iridescent sheen to it.
For some reason, when I dream of school, which I do a fair amount, the students are always middle school aged black kids. I used to teach at a non-profit and while my students were almost all black, they were my age.
Going on a trip. Bundling kids into a van
Visiting a boyfriend at the cafeteria of a big business or college. I don't recognize who the boyfriend was, but he was nerdy. We have lunch with two friends, British brothers named Tom and Sam who think I'm funny. Go back to bf's house and kiss but when it's time for sex I insist on a condom. He's holding a white rose. I'm not sure if the rose is intended for me or if he's in love with the rose himself. He refuses to have sex and I'm terribly upset. I go upstairs where he has a row of old boom boxes.
In a class. I look at an old picture of grade school. We're in a school theater--makeshift out of the cafeteria or something. Student groups present skits. They're wearing beautiful clothes from a costume box. Old tablecloths and curtains with beautiful patterns are folded into tunics and robes. I am watching myself in a skit. It's about a time traveling black kid.
I babysit my niece. She wants me to read Where The Wild Things Are.
I go to a big department store. It's like a cross between a sketchy discount store like Ocean State Job Lot and H&M or something. The front is a grocery store and I compare the price of broccoli raab. In the display is a tiny Christmas tree decorated with a sparkling boot. I wander into the clothing section and go to try on a blouse when I find I've taken off my pants. I manage to get them back on and abandon the clothes for a section of the store that's a junk shop. I find boxes full of bottles made of Roman glass and old boxes of film.
This dream had some anxiety but the colors and patterns were very beautiful. At the end, the Roman glass was the most spectacular. It's old glass that's semi-melted or something and has an iridescent sheen to it.
For some reason, when I dream of school, which I do a fair amount, the students are always middle school aged black kids. I used to teach at a non-profit and while my students were almost all black, they were my age.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Caper; Comedy; Ghost Eyes; Cab; Eagle Museum
1/5/10
I'm back in Virginia, getting ready for some important trip or mission. I can't remember what it was--I think I might have been getting ready to blow something up, or going on a tryst, or running away. Something that made me anxious but terribly excited. I filled my bag with socks, pastries, and juice. I had to talk normally and pretend to be asleep at points. A really delicious feeling.
At a summer camp. The director--my grandmother? Says that we should all come up with jokes. We all do and then she says the boys will go on stage at midnight. I'm kind of outraged that girls can't tell the jokes. I think about how hard it is to buck the system. We go across a Chinese lake in a boat. Another woman puts my hair up into cute buns on the top of my head and talks about her life in comedy.
We land and go to a big pavilion. The MC is all ready to introduce my old roommate H when some old guy with a blood pressure cuff on his arm takes the second mike. The MC starts nudging H off but she's not going without a fight. The MC and the old guy try to be conciliatory. "Do you want to go next?" they ask. "No!" says H. "Do you want a stick with a nail through it?" I ask. (Meaning like a weapon for H to attack the old guy with.) I think it's a hilarious joke but I don't know if anyone else hears.
Walking through the streets of New York. It's like that scene in Ghost when Whoopi Goldberg cashes the check and Patrick Swayze has to convince her to give it to nuns. She's upset. I can't tell where I am in this dream. And then I see that Whoopi is dead too, her head is a skull. Everyone is dead. Everyone has a gauze patch over their right eye. I ask someone why and they say it's just something pleasant when you're dead. I don't know if this means it enhances vision for dead people, or it keeps us from having to look at their eyes. Why just the right one? I also see a man with an incredibly long thin nose. It looks like an insect antenna.
We climb into a cab, my companion reassuring me the living will never notice. But everyone notices us right away. We drive through the city to a newly restored Greek temple/museum. O says he's excited about seeing a play there soon. I counter with some other fancy play. The cab driver, a feisty woman, drives the cab right up the front of the building, bumping against the columns and ridges. It's fun and hilarious. We all overtip the driver and she tells us she'll drive us anytime.
We go into the temple/museum. The old guy from the comedy show is there. We walk through halls and there are rooms where there are "eagles". They're really beautiful young men with wings. One of them sees the crowd of tourists coming and shuts his door. I think of it as being in the zoo and the lion goes into his cave. I'm disappointed but not resentful.
I remember a lot of detail from that first part of the dream, like the flaky pastries I packed and sorting through the laundry in the basement. It was a very realistic version of my home back in VA. I wish I could remember what was going on. I think it might have to do with my memory of going to the inauguration a year ago. Lots of my friends came down from NY and spent the night. We all got up super early and my mother packed us tangerines and Kleenex and hand warmers. My mother is the best. There was that same caperish feel in the air. But in the dream, I was doing it secretly, which made it even more delicious. What was it?
I really liked the summer camp/ghost town/museum sequence. I liked the feeling of defiance at the comedy show. The cab ride was hysterical. The eyes with gauze on them feel like they should mean something but I don't know what.
I'm back in Virginia, getting ready for some important trip or mission. I can't remember what it was--I think I might have been getting ready to blow something up, or going on a tryst, or running away. Something that made me anxious but terribly excited. I filled my bag with socks, pastries, and juice. I had to talk normally and pretend to be asleep at points. A really delicious feeling.
At a summer camp. The director--my grandmother? Says that we should all come up with jokes. We all do and then she says the boys will go on stage at midnight. I'm kind of outraged that girls can't tell the jokes. I think about how hard it is to buck the system. We go across a Chinese lake in a boat. Another woman puts my hair up into cute buns on the top of my head and talks about her life in comedy.
We land and go to a big pavilion. The MC is all ready to introduce my old roommate H when some old guy with a blood pressure cuff on his arm takes the second mike. The MC starts nudging H off but she's not going without a fight. The MC and the old guy try to be conciliatory. "Do you want to go next?" they ask. "No!" says H. "Do you want a stick with a nail through it?" I ask. (Meaning like a weapon for H to attack the old guy with.) I think it's a hilarious joke but I don't know if anyone else hears.
Walking through the streets of New York. It's like that scene in Ghost when Whoopi Goldberg cashes the check and Patrick Swayze has to convince her to give it to nuns. She's upset. I can't tell where I am in this dream. And then I see that Whoopi is dead too, her head is a skull. Everyone is dead. Everyone has a gauze patch over their right eye. I ask someone why and they say it's just something pleasant when you're dead. I don't know if this means it enhances vision for dead people, or it keeps us from having to look at their eyes. Why just the right one? I also see a man with an incredibly long thin nose. It looks like an insect antenna.
We climb into a cab, my companion reassuring me the living will never notice. But everyone notices us right away. We drive through the city to a newly restored Greek temple/museum. O says he's excited about seeing a play there soon. I counter with some other fancy play. The cab driver, a feisty woman, drives the cab right up the front of the building, bumping against the columns and ridges. It's fun and hilarious. We all overtip the driver and she tells us she'll drive us anytime.
We go into the temple/museum. The old guy from the comedy show is there. We walk through halls and there are rooms where there are "eagles". They're really beautiful young men with wings. One of them sees the crowd of tourists coming and shuts his door. I think of it as being in the zoo and the lion goes into his cave. I'm disappointed but not resentful.
I remember a lot of detail from that first part of the dream, like the flaky pastries I packed and sorting through the laundry in the basement. It was a very realistic version of my home back in VA. I wish I could remember what was going on. I think it might have to do with my memory of going to the inauguration a year ago. Lots of my friends came down from NY and spent the night. We all got up super early and my mother packed us tangerines and Kleenex and hand warmers. My mother is the best. There was that same caperish feel in the air. But in the dream, I was doing it secretly, which made it even more delicious. What was it?
I really liked the summer camp/ghost town/museum sequence. I liked the feeling of defiance at the comedy show. The cab ride was hysterical. The eyes with gauze on them feel like they should mean something but I don't know what.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Festival; C Brings Goodies
1/3/10
Again with P's screenplay! I'm at a big outdoor festival--it's like a school fair or a Scottish games thing or something. P's brother is there and tells me grimly that the reading of the screenplay has been cancelled but he doesn't have a ride so he's stuck at the festival for another two hours.
C comes to visit me en route to somewhere else. She brings all kinds of things--sketches by a famous artist, an old-fashioned cloth doll, an old Walkman, and a really great biology book. I start reading the book and see illustrations of snakes and pine cones. The preface tells the story of an amateur naturalist who duelled with some other guy and cut off his hand. C brags to JF that she knows David Bowie.
It's weird that I keep dreaming of P's screenplay. I don't even see P that much. And the show itself is usually only alluded to.
C and I talked about her visiting but we didn't work it out. It's too bad. She'd be an ideal buddy for me to have in New York. I really want to talk her into living here.
Again with P's screenplay! I'm at a big outdoor festival--it's like a school fair or a Scottish games thing or something. P's brother is there and tells me grimly that the reading of the screenplay has been cancelled but he doesn't have a ride so he's stuck at the festival for another two hours.
C comes to visit me en route to somewhere else. She brings all kinds of things--sketches by a famous artist, an old-fashioned cloth doll, an old Walkman, and a really great biology book. I start reading the book and see illustrations of snakes and pine cones. The preface tells the story of an amateur naturalist who duelled with some other guy and cut off his hand. C brags to JF that she knows David Bowie.
It's weird that I keep dreaming of P's screenplay. I don't even see P that much. And the show itself is usually only alluded to.
C and I talked about her visiting but we didn't work it out. It's too bad. She'd be an ideal buddy for me to have in New York. I really want to talk her into living here.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
At The Show; Reading On The Rooftop; Sweet Gum Tree
12/30/09
I was on my way to see Saturday Night Live with O and was complaining that there weren't enough women in the cast.
I was seated at a big round table with my mother. Someone who was a stand in for JM was there and kept talking. I told him to shut up.
I go to meet P at his apartment, in a twisty, confusing series of streets. It reminds me of Providence. Clouds of colored smoke vent onto the street. P comes out of his apartment looking freshly scrubbed. We go to a nearby rooftop to read through his latest play. He starts reading it to me in a really hammy way and I start laughing when someone appears behind him on the roof. More and more people come out, a whole junior high school class.
On the rooftop are also a whole collection of Gossip Girl books. I pick one up and read the back. It's a bout a teenager's problem when she finds out her mom is having an affair with three generations of men.
Walking under a sweet gum tree. My boss is there and I identify the tree for her by the pom poms it grows. They're huge and exaggerated and soft instead of spiny.
I continue to enjoy mental fights with my ex JM. What a dick.
I was on my way to see Saturday Night Live with O and was complaining that there weren't enough women in the cast.
I was seated at a big round table with my mother. Someone who was a stand in for JM was there and kept talking. I told him to shut up.
I go to meet P at his apartment, in a twisty, confusing series of streets. It reminds me of Providence. Clouds of colored smoke vent onto the street. P comes out of his apartment looking freshly scrubbed. We go to a nearby rooftop to read through his latest play. He starts reading it to me in a really hammy way and I start laughing when someone appears behind him on the roof. More and more people come out, a whole junior high school class.
On the rooftop are also a whole collection of Gossip Girl books. I pick one up and read the back. It's a bout a teenager's problem when she finds out her mom is having an affair with three generations of men.
Walking under a sweet gum tree. My boss is there and I identify the tree for her by the pom poms it grows. They're huge and exaggerated and soft instead of spiny.
I continue to enjoy mental fights with my ex JM. What a dick.
Dinner Theater Murder; Lost At Morehouse; Leaves
12/31/09
Murder mystery dinner theater. Everyone thought it was this middle aged guy Sterling but it turned out to be his elderly lady friend. I felt proud for staying friends with Sterling even though everyone was accusing him.
We took a rental place near the theater for the show. A family normally lived there and we could see all their stuff around, like pictures from fishing trips and the marks on the doorframe to measure kids' heights. Standing in the hallway by the measurements there was a big mirror. I stood in front of the mirror and raised up on my toes to make myself taller. This increased my height by four feet until my head was brushing the ceiling. I felt smug.
Going to a japanese restaurant with young friends. Someone upset a dish of barbecued eel and I helped clean up the sauce.
Lost with my mom. We were reading a novel set at Morehouse college and we were trying to find someone's house (the character? the author) using the book. We stumbled into a building that we thought might be a college building but turned out to be a private house full of fancy furnishings and knick knacks. On our way out we argued about the best way to find ourselves. I wanted to use my phone and Kristie wanted to use a topographical map. We ran into a little man and stopped him for directions. He was very indignant and said that was his house. I felt he was being stupid and could lock it if he cared. I yelled back that I had eaten his roasted chicken too.
We found remarkable autumn leaves. Two of them stuck together and when they separated the image of one is imprinted on the other. They are rosy pink.
I'm missing the final section of this dream. I have just a vague impression of office setting and very nice neckties.
I really liked the part of the dream where I could stretch up on my feet and be enormously tall.
Murder mystery dinner theater. Everyone thought it was this middle aged guy Sterling but it turned out to be his elderly lady friend. I felt proud for staying friends with Sterling even though everyone was accusing him.
We took a rental place near the theater for the show. A family normally lived there and we could see all their stuff around, like pictures from fishing trips and the marks on the doorframe to measure kids' heights. Standing in the hallway by the measurements there was a big mirror. I stood in front of the mirror and raised up on my toes to make myself taller. This increased my height by four feet until my head was brushing the ceiling. I felt smug.
Going to a japanese restaurant with young friends. Someone upset a dish of barbecued eel and I helped clean up the sauce.
Lost with my mom. We were reading a novel set at Morehouse college and we were trying to find someone's house (the character? the author) using the book. We stumbled into a building that we thought might be a college building but turned out to be a private house full of fancy furnishings and knick knacks. On our way out we argued about the best way to find ourselves. I wanted to use my phone and Kristie wanted to use a topographical map. We ran into a little man and stopped him for directions. He was very indignant and said that was his house. I felt he was being stupid and could lock it if he cared. I yelled back that I had eaten his roasted chicken too.
We found remarkable autumn leaves. Two of them stuck together and when they separated the image of one is imprinted on the other. They are rosy pink.
I'm missing the final section of this dream. I have just a vague impression of office setting and very nice neckties.
I really liked the part of the dream where I could stretch up on my feet and be enormously tall.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Strange Mop; Cucumber Plant; Sweeping Up Cool Stuff
12/28/09
One of my first dreams that featured 3. I don't remember much but he was there.
Also a dream about TB, the first in a long time. I wanted to see him of course but I didn't feel desperate. In an empty high school? Talking about music.
I'm in a high school auditorium and we're putting on a show. I'm sitting near the middle while everyone is gathered around front as the director explains what's going on. I'm sort of the jack of all work for the show. I make suggestions on the script, help find costumes, and wrangle with the director when he tries to foist a fancy new mop on the janitor. The mop is a gray loop of cloth suspended over the stage. I become the janitor and insist on sleeping on the floor.
I'm in Providence or DC or Canada, somewhere associated with my dad. A neighbor has grown a cucumber plant that goes all the way across the sidewalk. My brother and I go around it, but then someone just cuts it out of the way. I'm sweeping and there's lots of weird crud on the ground. Lots of summer dresses and blocks of cheese and things I have to keep rescuing.
This wasn't an especially interesting dream, and it was sort of low key anxious, like I had chores to do that weren't getting done. Which doesn't actually make me anxious in waking life. Conversely, in the dream I was seeing two men who interest me and/or freak me out and while I was glad and a little sad in the dream, the emotions were vey tamped down.
One of my first dreams that featured 3. I don't remember much but he was there.
Also a dream about TB, the first in a long time. I wanted to see him of course but I didn't feel desperate. In an empty high school? Talking about music.
I'm in a high school auditorium and we're putting on a show. I'm sitting near the middle while everyone is gathered around front as the director explains what's going on. I'm sort of the jack of all work for the show. I make suggestions on the script, help find costumes, and wrangle with the director when he tries to foist a fancy new mop on the janitor. The mop is a gray loop of cloth suspended over the stage. I become the janitor and insist on sleeping on the floor.
I'm in Providence or DC or Canada, somewhere associated with my dad. A neighbor has grown a cucumber plant that goes all the way across the sidewalk. My brother and I go around it, but then someone just cuts it out of the way. I'm sweeping and there's lots of weird crud on the ground. Lots of summer dresses and blocks of cheese and things I have to keep rescuing.
This wasn't an especially interesting dream, and it was sort of low key anxious, like I had chores to do that weren't getting done. Which doesn't actually make me anxious in waking life. Conversely, in the dream I was seeing two men who interest me and/or freak me out and while I was glad and a little sad in the dream, the emotions were vey tamped down.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Scheming Wife; Fashion Sucks; Mouse Movies
12/22/09
The dream was like a movie. It was about a successful business guy at a garden party who little knew his wife and architecture partner had been getting together for four years. They talked on the phone and the wife and partner made a plan to get rid of the husband. It backfired somehow and instead Danny Devito gets buried in an open grave but he popped up and the police took him in to a doctor, who said he was in great shape. Danny Devito did a bunch of bench presses to show how healthy he was.
In a college class on fashion. We also had to read a manuscript at work that was accompanied by a glossy magazine of the heroine dressed up in hundreds of different magazines. The novel was unbearable.
Back to the movies. I watched an amazing three dimensional preview from a mouse's point of view. Giant looming plants and food. Everything was lush and beautifully colored.
The dream was like a movie. It was about a successful business guy at a garden party who little knew his wife and architecture partner had been getting together for four years. They talked on the phone and the wife and partner made a plan to get rid of the husband. It backfired somehow and instead Danny Devito gets buried in an open grave but he popped up and the police took him in to a doctor, who said he was in great shape. Danny Devito did a bunch of bench presses to show how healthy he was.
In a college class on fashion. We also had to read a manuscript at work that was accompanied by a glossy magazine of the heroine dressed up in hundreds of different magazines. The novel was unbearable.
Back to the movies. I watched an amazing three dimensional preview from a mouse's point of view. Giant looming plants and food. Everything was lush and beautifully colored.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Belt and Well; Gas Station Bogeyman; Brooklyn Bridge; Mirror Play
12/20/09
I do a reading but demur on reading my own book and read from M's instead. It's a comic book and I feel like a dork for backing out of reading of my own work. It's awkward describing the drawings in the story to the audience.
M, J and I go to the drugstore for toothpaste. I'm suddenly drunk and lurching around, trying to get to the fancy flavored stuff. There's a loutish man in my way and we get into an argument. I challenge him to fight. M and J are worried but I pin the man on the ground and use his belt to tie him up. His belt is very short and I have to try several configurations before I can secure all his limbs. I stuff a cube of maggotty butter in his mouth and throw him down a well. I worry a little that I'll get into trouble but forget about it.
I'm watching P's staged reading of his screenplay. It's a romantic farce at a gas station. Everyone is kissing. Suddenly from a box in the back a character bursts out. It's the guy I threw in the well, who I now see is someone everyone knows about, a bogeyman. The monster is supposed to be missing his right arm and I see the actor has put a black tube sock on his arm to make it invisible against the black curtain. I am relieved. Big applause.
Walking home over the Brooklyn Bridge in a huge crowd of people. I'm climbing over fragile wooden framework when someone behind me shouts "Hey, you gave me the fake name Emily and the wrong phone number when we met in the Beauty Bar." He catches up and I feel slightly bad for tricking him. I agree to take him to a party. It's at M and J's place. It's green, blue and white, and there are floor to ceiling bookshelves in all the rooms. A stoned guy talks to us and he holds up a mirror. Instead of seeing myself in the mirror, I see a play about a pasha and his harem.
This was a very enjoyable dream. I love dreams where I have super strength. Throughout the rest of the dream, I felt like I had power over everything that happened. I was arrogant with the guy who was trying to pick me up. It was also very beautiful. Again with the fragile dark wood and the books.
P actually did do a staged reading of his screenplay. It was about a rock star and was quite funny.
I do a reading but demur on reading my own book and read from M's instead. It's a comic book and I feel like a dork for backing out of reading of my own work. It's awkward describing the drawings in the story to the audience.
M, J and I go to the drugstore for toothpaste. I'm suddenly drunk and lurching around, trying to get to the fancy flavored stuff. There's a loutish man in my way and we get into an argument. I challenge him to fight. M and J are worried but I pin the man on the ground and use his belt to tie him up. His belt is very short and I have to try several configurations before I can secure all his limbs. I stuff a cube of maggotty butter in his mouth and throw him down a well. I worry a little that I'll get into trouble but forget about it.
I'm watching P's staged reading of his screenplay. It's a romantic farce at a gas station. Everyone is kissing. Suddenly from a box in the back a character bursts out. It's the guy I threw in the well, who I now see is someone everyone knows about, a bogeyman. The monster is supposed to be missing his right arm and I see the actor has put a black tube sock on his arm to make it invisible against the black curtain. I am relieved. Big applause.
Walking home over the Brooklyn Bridge in a huge crowd of people. I'm climbing over fragile wooden framework when someone behind me shouts "Hey, you gave me the fake name Emily and the wrong phone number when we met in the Beauty Bar." He catches up and I feel slightly bad for tricking him. I agree to take him to a party. It's at M and J's place. It's green, blue and white, and there are floor to ceiling bookshelves in all the rooms. A stoned guy talks to us and he holds up a mirror. Instead of seeing myself in the mirror, I see a play about a pasha and his harem.
This was a very enjoyable dream. I love dreams where I have super strength. Throughout the rest of the dream, I felt like I had power over everything that happened. I was arrogant with the guy who was trying to pick me up. It was also very beautiful. Again with the fragile dark wood and the books.
P actually did do a staged reading of his screenplay. It was about a rock star and was quite funny.
I Will Totally...; Party/Operation; You're Crazy; Staircase
12/19/09
More domestic disturbances--
I was on the show Glee and was a ravishing tomboy who had befriended the beautiful blond cheerleader Quinn. Her mom went to the teacher and complained. I yelled across the room "I promise not to fuck your daughter!" thinking "I will totally fuck her if I get the chance." Also, I helped Artie play the drums.
At my grandmother's, she told me the best I was wearing was ugly. I took it off and was angry. It was ugly, but it was her belt. I run through torrential rain and into a cocktail party on the sandy spit of the creek bed near her house. The party turns into an operating theater. A skilled doctor and his apprentice are working on a patient. The apprentice fails to tie a suture correctly. It's made of latex and the knot looks like the knot of a balloon. His mentor catches him and scolds him.
I run into my cousin H at the airport. She is wearing a bizarre shawl and has her long hair in ringlets. I greet her and she calls me by her sister's name . I yell at her "I'm your cousin, not your sister" and realize she's become catatonic or crazy and as she goes up an escalator, I yell at her that she can't be a doctor anymore because she can't tie sutures correctly.
A romantic liaison with O on the staircase of the house in Virginia.
I remember this dream very vividly. It was an interesting and satisfying dream. Some elements are probably imported from life but some are pretty far out there. It's my aunt and not my cousin who is crazy.
I've had lots of drumming dreams recently too. Usually the high hat is falling apart or made of something unsuitable like a china plate. But the dreams are still satisfying. This might be because I have a new housemate who seems to be learning how to play the drums and practices a lot.
When I do have sexy dreams, they usually take place in tilted or skewed spaces.
More domestic disturbances--
I was on the show Glee and was a ravishing tomboy who had befriended the beautiful blond cheerleader Quinn. Her mom went to the teacher and complained. I yelled across the room "I promise not to fuck your daughter!" thinking "I will totally fuck her if I get the chance." Also, I helped Artie play the drums.
At my grandmother's, she told me the best I was wearing was ugly. I took it off and was angry. It was ugly, but it was her belt. I run through torrential rain and into a cocktail party on the sandy spit of the creek bed near her house. The party turns into an operating theater. A skilled doctor and his apprentice are working on a patient. The apprentice fails to tie a suture correctly. It's made of latex and the knot looks like the knot of a balloon. His mentor catches him and scolds him.
I run into my cousin H at the airport. She is wearing a bizarre shawl and has her long hair in ringlets. I greet her and she calls me by her sister's name . I yell at her "I'm your cousin, not your sister" and realize she's become catatonic or crazy and as she goes up an escalator, I yell at her that she can't be a doctor anymore because she can't tie sutures correctly.
A romantic liaison with O on the staircase of the house in Virginia.
I remember this dream very vividly. It was an interesting and satisfying dream. Some elements are probably imported from life but some are pretty far out there. It's my aunt and not my cousin who is crazy.
I've had lots of drumming dreams recently too. Usually the high hat is falling apart or made of something unsuitable like a china plate. But the dreams are still satisfying. This might be because I have a new housemate who seems to be learning how to play the drums and practices a lot.
When I do have sexy dreams, they usually take place in tilted or skewed spaces.
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