Had a dream this morning (well, not actually a dream, but one of those half awake, half not moments) where I thought I should buy that Dianne Sylvan book, you know, the one with the purple cover? I knew the title at the time, but all I remember now is that it had the word Goddess in it. Sadly, it does not exist (yet?). I will say that I am really, really enjoying her book, The Body Sacred. The problem I have with it is the problem I have with a lot of similar books - I can quickly read the book, but I can't find the time to sit down and go through the exercises. Something to work on, I guess.

I'm in a bathroom with ninthraven and two other people. There are two toilets, no stalls. I pee in a toilet and once I'm done, we discuss our plans for the night. stentoriansista and another man are going to go out and spend the night outdoors on the river by where Elsayed (the owner of Playbill Cafe) has his farmer's market. I'm concerned because Elsayed doesn't break down his farmer's market at night, not even the produce, so a lot of tramps and homeless people hang out there. My concerns are brushed off and I leave the bathroom to help stentoriansista set up the blanket and double sleeping bag for us to sleep in that night.

Cut to ninthraven, her baby and another man walking out to the river. It's pretty late at night. A couple of men appear from behind a small group of trees and ask if they're the group from Houston. ninthraven and friend turn around and the guy says that they're not but it doesn't matter. Then he pulls out a gun and shoots the baby (I think by accident. I think maybe he meant to shoot ninthraven).

I wake up from this riverside dream thing to find myself in the sleeping bag with stentoriansista. I tell her that I dreamt something horrible and that something's happened to ninthraven. She doesn't believe me and doesn't think it's in the paper. I roll over and sleep doze again and see the same thing, if by same thing you mean a terrifying man lying on the floor about ten feet away facing me with black tendrils of smoke curling up and around him. I ask him what he represents (advice from Conscious Dreaming by Robert Moss), and in the creepiest way possible he tells me that he represents a warning, he represents < forgotten >, he represents < forgotten >.

I dream myself waking up from this dream and telling stentoriansista about the scariness of it all. She's sympathetic but unable to do anything now that we're "awake," and goes and gets what look like steampunk goggles with green LED lights on the rim so she can go watch the Fortas concert. She gets back in bed (sitting up) and puts the goggles on. Suddenly the wind starts up fast and furious and howlingly loud. The apartment advertisement banners in front of our windows (non-existent in real life) start flapping up and down wildly. The building starts wobbling.

I actually wake up when stentoriansista's alarm goes off for work. I tell her about my nightmare with the death of ninthraven's metaphorical baby and go back to sleep. Convoluted dreams that I don't entirely remember that involve computers and camping and getting pizza and did we leave the computers in the tent? Someone might steal those...

ninthraven and another gentleman are talking about something. He sees a pair of gloves on the wall and goes over to them. ninthraven has put her coat over the rest of the display (ignoring it means she doesn't have to remember), but she takes if off to show that it's some of the baby's clothes pinned to the wall. The man (who was the man with her at the river) drops to his knees and starts crying, repeating that he's so sorry over and over again. ninthraven hugs him while he cries, at which point, it switches to first person and I'm the crying man. ninthraven pulls back and looks at me. She moves to brush something off my face, but then draws her hand back and she's going to claw out my eyes...

And stentoriansista wakes me up (actually wakes me up) because I was shaking in my sleep.

I don't know. But it was fucking scary.

Weird dream this morning. I got a weird little tune in my head, so I broke into someone else's house to figure out how it worked on the piano. Got caught by one of the servants, explained the situation (I believe I might have yelled 'I just want to PLAY THE PIANO!'-), they were cool with it, I went back to the music.

Somehow, 50 years had passed while I was playing with the keys. Woke up from that stupor because another servant discovered me. I again explained the situation and then they took me to their secret place (a hollow under a balcony) and allowed me to sleep there. Someone took a pole with a loop on the end, put it around my foot and dragged me out from under there, while I protested the entire time.

I was pulled out by the owner of the house and her daughters. This somehow transitioned into a Japanese pop song where I dressed in pretty clothes and revealed that I was Monkey. The mother was concerned because I was more powerful than her daughters and if they took me in (despite 50 years passing, I was maybe 20ish), I would overshadow them.

The alarm woke me up, but I hit snooze and went "back" to the dream, where the daughters and I were dressing in fancy, 19th century style clothing with sports bras and hanging out with the cast of CSI in order to figure out something involving the laws of physics, as defined by the original song I was trying to puzzle out 50 years ago. Gil Grissom was silly.

(The original song was something like... major C chord, E flat, D, E flat, F, F sharp, B, B flat, E flat... maybe).

(Also, is it weird that I can't use the term god-ridden without giggling a little?)

I am alone in stentoriansista's old living room, where I am preparing for a Becoming circle. I cast a circle and then invoke a goddess... Inanna, I think. I then get an image of a circle with the right hand side being eaten away by green and then a whoosh of power and energy comes in and fills me. Though I am nearly bent double with it, I stumble downstairs into a large, open basement. ninthraven is working the coat check, then dukemockingbird sits me down on the floor and tries to fix my hair. I realize that I started too early and am upset. dukemockingbird tries to get me to pick a card, but I am unable to focus, muddled, slow. He gets kinda ticked. It occurs to me that no one has noticed that I'm being god-ridden. Peter Dinklage shows up with a life size replica of himself.

(This was a dream I had in the extra 10 minutes I had to curl up back in bed. No, I don't know why dukemockingbird was trying to fix my hair either)

It's college (I started thing about college before bedtime) and a new school year and I'm moving into my new dorm room. Due to issues I can't quite remember, I'm being assigned a roommate for a room in South. Whatever, I think, divided double, if they suck I can just ignore them. I drop off my bags (a suitcase and two boxes) and leave to run some errands. I come back and my roommate has shown up and my divided double is actually an open double the size of my room now (not that large), with two single beds put together and one separate. All three have sheets on them and every conceivable drawer, storage space and open surface is filled with clothing. The desk drawers are full. I am furious. My roommate's name is Lillian Ferdernandez (or some variation therein) and the names on the door are "Lillian Lillian Lillyette." I am still furious. I decide to wait for my new roommate to show up and have it out with her. I get under the covers of a bed to wait and read a book and then I feel weird that I'm in someone else's linens.

I had a dream last night where someone gave me $60 in fake bills and I didn't notice. Which was ridiculous because one of the bills was way too large and another had an upside down front of a fifty copied on the back. I remember going back to the people who'd originally given me the fakes (one an older black woman who cackled at me the whole time but wouldn't tell me why when I bought some kind of smudge stick from her). I just remember yelling "I don't know about you, but I work for non-profits. I don't make a lot of money. $30 is my food budget for the month!"

Really bizarre dreams last night: First was a bizarre sort of movie thing where I didn't watch the plot because an extra in the background looked like stentoriansista if she was wearing robes and a commedia del arte mask. Then I went to a yarn store where they were trying to raise $5,000 to match contributions that helped fund fellowships. I asked them how much money it made the yarn store... about $100. I said that they needed to worry about making a profit before funding fellowships. I also examined my contributions / credit card statement online and realized that I was giving $10 a month to several different organizations.

I went to the doctor (blond, female), who examined me on the courtyard-like roof of a building. My roommate R was inside a smaller building on the roof with a stomachache and could hear the entire thing. The doctor handed me a pair of forceps and told me to take off the cardboard and to... um... insert them in the appropriate place. Then we had to get my pants off and I was freaked out that I was completely naked on a roof with my roommate a wall away. I got my clothes back on and the doctor asked me if I wanted to talk to some girl about "... well, you know" because she was a junior and had experience in these things. I shouted back that I was 26. I realized I was in some bizarro world filled only with teenage girls and tried to run away.

In other, non-subconscious news - the house painters did a pretty good job but didn't paint any of the ceilings or the trim, painted over the three outlet plates we missed taking off, painted all of the outlets anyway (WHY?!?!?!), broke a bathroom ceiling fan, puttied and painted over screw anchors (without removing them) that we'd ask them to leave and didn't really fix the mold in the garage. And, as it turns out, they were supposed to paint the ceilings and the trim. I don't know if I should be more mad that they didn't do what they were paid to do or that I have to take everything off my walls and rearrange my furniture. Again. On the bright side, this hopefully means I can get them to fix my wall after I broke it hanging a picture (I used one of the circle things from the Rugga kit which was defective - after banging on it for 5 minutes, I realized that the nails weren't going to go in, but when I took it off the wall, I realized I'd basically shoved it into the wall completely. Whoops)

In other, other news, I have one round of triple crochet left to FINISH THE GODDAMN WEDDING BLANKET. The downsides - one round takes 3 hours and once I finally finish this blanket... I don't know that I can give it to someone else. No, really.

So, I wake up at 4am to get ready to go to the airport. I step outside my room and my parents inform me that they got a call at 2am that my 6am flight to Dallas has been cancelled and I'm being rerouted through Chicago. I am upset.

I eat some coffee cake and drink coffee and get to the airport at 5am. I get to the airport, I get my bags checked, I get my boarding pass for my 6:45 am flight to Chicago, now leaving at 7:10 and my 1:30 flight to DC. I get through security, buy a water and find out my flight time is now 7:30. At some point shortly before boarding, I realize that I don't actually have a seat assignment for my DCA flight. I ask the gate attendant, who tells me the flight is 16 people oversold and that I should just run to the gate when I get in... "Welcome to American Airlines." At 7:20, they board the plane and then tell us that the flight time is now 7:58. I'm upset to find I'm on an aisle and not a window, but beggars can't be choosers, I guess. 5 minutes later, they tell us the flight time is now 9:05. Everyone flips out. I text girlyfriend, call my parents, while my seatmate proceeds to flip out, call everyone on the planet and generally bitch about now it's Friday and with the weather he won't be able to get home until Sunday, blah blah blah, I'm an entitled twentysomething fishcakes. I call the AA reservation line and learn that I have a guaranteed seat and I'm not on standby, so I'm good for my connector. 20 minutes later, the pilot tells us that though people have asked (totally Mr. Entitled) to get off the plane and rebook, he can't do it. I check on my connector. It claims to be running on time. Mr. Entitled then calls some place to ask if some girl is up. She's not, but he insists to whoever answers the phone that she needs to open his gift to her. He then complains that he's been delayed for four hours and I point out to the woman next to me that it's only two. The plane is a small one and does not have movie capability, so I'm deprived of mindless entertainment. At 9am, we take off. At 10am, I buy a sandwich, which costs $5 and is disgusting, but I'm starving and desperately need protein. I make the flight attendant give me two sodas and I save the Diet Coke for later. 5 minutes after I finish my sandwich, Mr. Entitled decides he needs to go to the bathroom, causing me and the poor sleeping woman in the middle to get up while he uses the first class bathroom. Since I'm holding all of my food detritus, I give it to the first class flight attendant, who points out that they'd collect it later. I point out the whole Mr. Entitled situation and she takes it without further comment. I bug someone else for a blanket and then sort of sleep for two hours, bringing the total amount of sleep for the day up to 6 hours. I have weird dreams, including the fake suicide of Marilyn Monroe, a dream that I think I've had before and think how nice it is to revisit, though I can't remember having it before. I also have a dream where someone tells me a really profound saying that I tell myself to remember, but can't now. Mr. Entitled calls the girl and then reams her out for opening the gift in front of "everyone." "I mean, you should have locked yourself in the bathroom to open it." Charming. Such a prize.

At 3 pm, Chicago time, we land. I call AA and find out that my connecting flight, while half an hour late, still took off half an hour ago. I get off the plane and go to a rebooking center, as listed on the various banners, only to find out that it's an unmanned gate with three phones. I call AA and almost immediately get hung up on. I call back again, bitch out someone else who rebooks me via US Airways... Pittsburgh and then DCA, getting in at 9pm. I text everyone, find a manned ticket counter, get my ticket reissued, discuss the possibilities of standby, decide to go with the guaranteed ticket, ask the gate agent who is so not being paid enough to deal with today about flight delays for US Air. She has no idea. I walk from terminal 4 to terminal 2 and arrive at my gate for my 5:05 Pittsburgh flight to find out that it's now leaving at 8pm and the DCA flight has been cancelled, but they can get me out on a 6:50 am Pittsburgh flight. I cry a little at the poor gate attendant, who probably also isn't paid enough to deal with today. I get my ticket and call AA and talk to a very nice woman who points out the standby is far more likely with all the delays and that if I want to do it, she can put me on standby via the phone. I call girlyfriend (because I'm incapable of making an independant decision) who helps me decide that while I'm sure Pittsburgh is a very nice city, I don't want to spend the night there. I cancel my Pittsburgh ticket and walk back to Terminal 4 to get on standby for an 8:10 flight to BWI. This is gate H3A. The gate attendant tells to run, RUN to try to catch the BWI flight in final boarding at gate G17. I run, only to find that the gate is empty, the flight has left, there were 9 people on standby and one got on.

I trod back to H3A and get on the standby list for that flight. I'm third on the list. I also try to get on standby to earlier flight to DCA only to be told that I can't do both. I decide 3rd to Baltimore is better than 22nd to DC and go back to H3A to wait. It's about 5:30. I call girlyfriend with updates. Around 6, I notice that one of the screens is advertising a gate change for my flight. I ask my gate helper. His name is Ray Fiday, which is an awesome name, and tells me that yes, the gate has changed and I'm now first on the list. I mosey over to the new gate, H7, tell the nice gate attendants that I'M THERE, YES! YES! PLEASE DON'T LOSE ME! and then go over to a Chili's Too for dinner. It's about 6:30 now. I eat some disgusting cheesesticks and have a coke ($2.99) instead of a beer ($7.25). I then find out that my gate has changed again to... G17. Luckily, I know where that is. The 7:10 flight, which has previously been on time, is now leaving at 8:10. I get down to the gate, and find the departure time is now 8:45. I again announce myself and the gate attendants really, really don't care. I wait some more. The departure time goes from 8:45 to 9:10. The gate changes to G15. Everyone else is waiting and is cranky. We share stories. I'm still first on standby list. The gate attendant asks for 3 volunteers because the flight is oversold. At this point, I start crying, because while I'm booked on a 6pm to DCA the next day, I'm really, really tired and just want to go home. They board. Nothing happens. I ask. They're waiting from word from upstairs. The melodrama gets huge, I text girlyfriend and cry again some more. At 9:25, they get 4 seats, meaning the remaining two volunteers, me and someone else are on the flight. I call girlyfriend (who has sweetly offered to pick me up through all of this) triumphantly from the plane with arrival time and we take off. The flight attendant wants to not be there so badly. She gives me a free beer. I get off the plane at midnight and call my parents to tell them that yes, yes, I really did make it back and girlyfriend is picking me up, which earns her major cool points from my parents.

I get off the plane. It's now about 12:15. I find girlyfriend. I do not find my bag. I go to file a claim with baggage claim only to find out that the bags from my flight were cleared about 10 minutes ago. Claim files. I get to girlyfriend's and into bed around 1:30. I get up at 10 and head home. I also get a voicemail from some guy about my bag. I call him back and between his accent and ambient noise, I can't hear a damn word he's saying. I order a pizza and take a nap. At 1pm, I get up. At 1:30, I get my pizza. At 2pm, I get my bag back.

I'm almost completely settled in, I'm about to go to bed... and I've still got 2/3rds of a pizza left and a bunch of garlic bread (so not worth it, but it was free) left. Yay. Sleep.

Freaky, freaky dreams last night.

First one... I was poking around Soon to be Ex Roommate's room, which had grown to monumental proportions, had a sewing area, floating walls, etc... There was also a new floor inbetween the main level and the upstairs rooms that contained an arts and crafts room. STBER's room also had a hanging storage thing containing some very pretty yarn. I remember admiring both the yarn and how she stored it. Colors were light blue and black.

Second... I was 9 months pregnant. I went to the doctor and then came back home. Hanging out with my older brother and just knowing I was going to give birth that day... waiting for my water to break or contractions to start. We take the bus back to the hospital. One of the stops had "Planned Parenthood" written on it and mel21clc (who had shown up on the bus) pointed out that you waited there for PP vans to take you to their clinic. We get to the next stop and my doctor gets off. I point out the fact that my gynecologist is riding the bus to my older brother. The bus continues to stay stopped until I realize that we're at the hospital, so I get off. Get in the hospital... wake up and I've got pain at the top of my belly, not at the bottom where I should be. I hear a baby crying and realize that I must have slept through most of my labor. A million different thoughts flit through my head, the main one being that I am not ready to have a child and that I'm going to have to give it up. I haven't even seen it. I don't know if it's a boy or a girl.

Third and freaktastically freaky ZOMG ARGH! I don't quite know how it happens, but this guy gets trapped by a giant plant/bug/thing. He's standing and it's holding his wrists out in a Y shape with these little orange string things. I think something is holding his feet in place, too. There might be something covering his eyes as well. He started panicking at first, but once the orange things got his wrists and hoisted him upright, he calmed down and made some comment about how it must be drugging him. Someone else is watching all of this and making no effort to help, not because they're also being held captive by the plant/bug/thing, but because they don't care. Detached, scientific curiousity. A rock comes hurtling out of the air from behind the guy and hits him in the head. "Ow," he says. A second rock comes out and hits him again. He says something more involved this time, but I don't remember what. A third, larger rock comes out and hits him a third time, either killing him or stunning him. I wake up knowing that he's about to be eaten.

The last entry o' angst made me remember this dream. It's from Thursday night/Friday morning, so it's stale in the recollection.
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Before I forget, happy birthday rev_court! May it be full of lots of wine and happy times!

I have been dreaming a lot lately. Like, a lot a lot. And I don't know why. Usually, my dream recall is so-so... if I tell myself to remember dreams and keep a dream journal, I can remember 3-5 dreams a night. This takes 30-45 minutes to record, which is why I stopped keeping a dream journal. Ever since I stopped, I'll remember bits and pieces or fragments and I'll record whatever I can remember here, but usually the details end up fuzzing away and dissolving, especially since I record them at least an hour after waking. (Should you wish to record your dreams, the most effective way to do it is immediately upon waking)

But for the past few days, there's been a lot of long, involved complex dreams. The weirdest and most meta was the dream where I was watching a TV show that had a dream sequence and then the dreamer woke up but was still in the television show. It involved a vibrating piece of skin? horn? something animal-esque that was related to the character. Anyway, it was complete with background music and cinematography and such. I'm not sure I understand why the dreams have been so HEY! LOOK AT ME! lately, but I'm sure there's a reason.

ETA: IT'S SNOWING!!!! SNOW SNOW SNOW SNOW SNOW! Also, I did not dress warmly enough for today. Brr.

So, around 6:30 this morning, I am woken up by a thwack! Now, this thwack! could only be one of the humane mouse traps being sprung. Fuck that shit, I think, I am not getting up at 6:30 in the morning in the ZOMG!COLD to release a mouse into the wilds. I'm going back to sleep.

My dreams for the next four hours are solely focused on mice. Large mice trying to force open the door to my room, small mice caught in traps that I have to release, large mice caught in traps that actually force their way out while I am holding the trap, etc... Let's just say I did not get a good 4 hours of sleep.

I pulled myself out of bed around 10:45, got dressed, got lunch, got my coat on and then picked up the sprung trap. Maybe it just got sprung when they delivered my paper outside? It's heavy. No dice.

So, I hang my bag on the bannister and head outside where I run into Irrationally Afraid of Mice Roommate. I say hi and neglect to tell her about the mice. I left a note on the white board. Really, I just didn't want to deal with possible hysterics. I wander over to the Telegraph Road entrance, where there's a wildflower area (which looks extremely sad in the January cold).

Now, last time I did this, I have a feeling I either stunned, killed or hurt the mouse in the trap. I didn't want to do it this time. So, I explored other ways of opening the trap... which don't appear to exist. Oh sure, I can open up the back end, but it won't stay down on its own and ZOMG MOUSE IS MOVING TOWARDS ME! GAH! GAH! Finally, I have to completely upend the trap so that the main opening is facing the sky and then thwack it a few times so the mouse falls back towards the other end. See, the opening goes down into the trap and if I didn't, I'd be hitting the poor guy with the metal end. Once that's done, I place the trap on the ground and shout something along the lines of "Go, mouse! Be free!" several times, probably to the concern of the pedestrians. The mouse thinks about going out to explore the great unknown, but ultimately decides to stick with what it knows. After all, he may be trapped in a tiny metal box, but there's peanut butter in there. In deciding his fate, he's accidentally sprung the trap again. So, again, I treat the mouse to a ride on the Tilt-A-Whirl, open the trap and then upend him onto the ground. This time, the fall was maybe a foot, probably less, as opposed to the 2-3 foot drop the last guy endured. Mousie falls to the ground, looks around, and wanders off. I couldn't tell if he was limping or not, but he wasn't obviously bleeding, so hopefully he survived his adventures unscathed.

I told the mouse to enjoy his freedom and then went back home and off to work. Damn mice.

I’m at stentoriansista’s house, which has morphed into a much grander building and now faces south instead of north. It’s also in a much more citified area, because directly outside her window is a fire escape and a neon sign. I’m in one of stentoriansista’s two beds, when I look out the window and see a skeleton. I mention this to stentoriansista in a AHH! ZOMG! WALKING SKELETON sort of way and she pulls out a shotgun and shoots it. It takes a few shots before it’s dead. There are other walking skeletons around. I am freaked out, as the dream version of stentoriansista’s room has windows on three sides. It starts raining bone chips.

We’ve relocated to mel21clc’s room, which, despite being on the ground floor, has fewer windows and is therefore safer. We’ve blocked off the various windows with furniture and are waiting. In the dark. stentoriansista and mel21clc are debating whether or not to sacrifice a model of the starship Enterprise. Apparently, over the years, it has had a great many expensive repairs. stentoriansista convinces mel21clc to give over, so they detach the saucer section and light comes from the warp section.

Just then, we hear the front doors open. It’s stentoriansista and mel21clc’s roommates L & A, who have just returned from Vegas and are wandering around the church sized living room, talking loudly about it. All of the doors to the house are open, leaving us open for zombie attack. I peek out the doorway and see that, since the doors are open, people are pouring in. I leave the room (closing the door firmly behind me), get on one of the benches that have appeared in the living room and yell at everyone that they need to leave, while simultaeneously chiding L & A for leaving the door open and don’t they know there are zombies out there? While I am yelling, two otherwise normal looking boys start chewing on my hands (one for each hand).

I'm wandering around some beachy market type place when I run into pup212. Or, I should say, two pup212s dressed up in tatty suits with zombie makeup. Have I mentioned that they're doing the thriller dance? Oh, they're doing the thriller dance.

It turns out that pup212 has an identical twin that he never told anyone about. They'd occasionally swap places with one another. So, when pup212 stayed at my house for a month, that was the twin-not-named-pup212. This makes me happy because I like the other twin more. He's the good twin.

Yeah, I don't get this one either. And pup212 never actually stayed at my house outside of dreamland.

I'm off somewhere for a conference, but it's odd looking - vaguely like Huddart Park and I'm not sure what it's for. The conference is over and I'm trying to pack everything to go off camping on my own for a couple of days. I'm trying to figure out what food I should carry, what I should pack if it's too heavy or not. Someone offers me a ride somewhere and I accept it - we drive up to the redwood area where we pass goingdriftless' JtB and a coworker and her husband. Whoever's in the big white van gets out but forgets to put the brake on and the van rolls forward. I don't know what to do for a couple of seconds and then jump out. The van gets about two wheels over a cliff like thing and then we stop it. Coworker's husband had to jump out of the way when it rolled forward and apparently broke his wrist. Further inspection of the big white van reveals that it's a stick that I wouldn't have known how to drive if I thought to move over to the driver's seat to try to stop it. Coworker sends me a nasty email saying that I was responsible for her husband's wrist and that I was irresponsible one and I'd even been offered a car to camp and turned it down and blah blah blah. She'd written the message under a forward of old messages from everyone at work making terrible fun of me . So, I confronted her about it and explained why I'd turned down the car (it was leaving too early in the day for my trip) and that the van was a clutch and I couldn't have used it to stop the van and she forwarded on some nasty things to me. I never did make it camping.

I had serial dreams last night - same storyline repeated. I was queen of a realm returned from wrongful exile, dealing with the 8 people/things that needed to be fixed in my absence. Among them were jude, who'd gone all mad scientist-y and locked away a few other folk that I needed to deal with, J from work falling in love with a 16 year old that he made tea for everything morning and several more that I don't remember now. Over the course of the night, the plots became more and more elaborate as I revisited each one, trying to keep them all separate as I exacted my revenge. This was only mildly successful.

There was also a scheme that involved me & several others invading the royal court. In all cases, we didn't sneak in, but got in through surrender. The one I remember most was all of us walking in with hands raised and then playing a game called "35 Amie" where I would call out an adjective and all of us who surrended who fit the adjective description would get up and move around. There was also a grocery store involved for reasons I don't remember.

Dear Subconscious,

Stop freaking me out!

No love,
Me

See, first there was the falling asleep part. I couldn't get to bed until 2ish last night, but I'm curled up in my fetal position, cuddling my tigger pillow, drifting away when suddenly there's a large, sudden vibration & noise, like someone had stuck a cell phone on vibrate in my pillow and it went off. But as much frantic fumbling proved, there was no cell phone. And my cell phone is set to ring & vibrate. I turned on the lights, but unless my pillow has had a vibrator in it that I'm unaware of or a cricket, I got jolted awake by the vibrations of... nothing.

So, that was freaky.

Then I had this dream last night. A dream that I would title Death Comes for Me.
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So, I'm lying in bed when this big black floaty thing that looks kind of like an evil Calcifer and dives in my stomach. I can feel myself kick around and whimper outside of the dream and I wake up (for reals, not one of those dream wakeups). It's about 3:30 in the morning and I am freaked out. So I make up an Star Trek shielding technique - Commander Riker saying 'Red Alert, Captain' with the annoying klaxon and I visualized an acorn shaped shield of fire around me. Mock all you want, but it helped. After a few minutes of that, I was no longer ZOMG BLACK FLOATY THING but still really, really wanted to put the light on. So I did. There were no black floaty things in the room. I went back to sleep and had a lot more dreams which I've since forgotten. Including one that had a really great line and I woke up and thought 'ooh, I've got to remember that!' And now I can't.

Also, after having the whole hello incident and the milkmaid ghost I'm starting think that either reallyfuckencreepy home invasion dreams are becoming a stress dream for me or I have something not nice living in or around my room. Crap. Either option sucks.

You know that feeling where you have nothing to do but you think there's something you should be doing and you don't know what it is and the more you think about it the guilter you get but you still can't figure out what it is so eventually you just give up and fuck around on the internet for hours?

Yeah. That.

And I'll probably read the paper later, too.

I had a dream last night (at least, I think it was a dream) where I had to do something vaguely magical that I knew would change my life forever and I wasn't sure if I wanted to do it or not. A globe was involved, but I think that was leftover from a story I read last night. I hesitated and I'm not sure if I acted. I woke up still feeling like I needed to make a decision. It reminds me of Beltane where I made a promise to myself that I would make a change in my life. And I've been trying and some things have definitely changed for the better, but I guess this is a reminder that I need to kick some things into high gear.

I need to devote more effort into the spiritual stuff too. I guess I've been slacking at that because I'm lazy and I've been lazy for so long it feels like I'll be starting from scratch. And I wish my freaking job would give me Sundays off so I could go to Becoming events. And I wish I remembered to check in their schedule more. Just RSVP'd for the Saturday thing and may not be able to go since I'm after deadline. Alas, alack, I'm a sillyhead.

I just wish things were a little bit easier sometimes.

Or, in fact, any power. As I was walking home last night, having an odd religious meditation on the word "should" and how it compares to my philosophy, I noticed all the traffic lights were out. "That's odd," I thought. "Maybe I should call 3-11 and report it? I'm sure someone already has. Hey, all the street lights are out too! Come to think of it, I don't see any lights in any of the building around here... oh HELL NO."

Yes.

I got home and there was, in fact, no power. So I tripped into my windowless room and found some tea lights, lit one, went upstairs, found my citronella candle, lit that, called Papa John's and spent 10 minutes on hold so I assumed their power was out as well, checked on the pot roast in the crockpot and discovered that the power went out around 7:30, according to my christmas tree light timer. Called various people - stentoriansista, goingdriftless and my parents for sympathy. The pot roast was still steaming hot so I had that (and it was delicious - recipe here), polished off the last of my strawberries, a couple of popsicles and the rest of a bottle of red wine. What? It's not like there was anything better to do. Read by flickering candle light?

My dad called back about 15 minutes after I called him and we commiserated for about half an hour, at which point the wine was gone, so I set a cell phone alarm and staggered into bed. Before 11. The last time this happened was Hurricane Isabel, when we didn't have power for 3 days.

Despite my mantra of "there will be power when I wake up," there was not. Around 5 am, I had some freaktastic dream where my mom's friend Elise came into my room and told me that I didn't have power and she didn't either, therefore she was moving. I got all up in arms because I didn't want her to move and that would make this area even more yuppified and I didn't want that. Woke up, realized that I needed a visit to the bathroom, stumbled out as far as the hallway when I heard a male voice say "Hel-lo."

I proceded to then flip the fuck out. Now, quite likely it was just sleepy, sorta hung over me still kind of dreaming, or I could have an early riser neighbor, or it could have been a ghost or it could have been ZOMG KNIFE WIELDING SERIAL KILLER. I go upstairs to the bathroom (it's still dark out, btw), wander downstairs spending a lot of time in the hallway making sure that there was not, in fact, a neighborly serial killer ghost hanging out in my hallway. I don't see any. Perhaps an invisible serial killer ghost? Anyway, my room gets illuminated every couple of seconds by the sleep button on my computer, so I definitely spent a few minutes watching the room to see if there was a scary, scary man wanting to eat my liver. There wasn't, but I didn't get to sleep easily for a while.

My roommate got up at 7, and let me tell you, the girl delights in clanging around the kitchen in the wee hours of the morning when I am trying to sleep. I reset my alarm from 8:15 to 8:50, because why the hell do I want to get to work at 9:30 if I have no staff here and we open at 10? Got up, dressed myself in the dark, went upstairs to the BLINDING LIGHT that is 9 am, brushed teeth, inserted contacts, got food veryquickly from the fridge and trooped off to work.

I'm going to the gym after work today (I think it's open... I hope it's open) and if there is not power when I get back, I will throw the mother of all hissy fits and then try to throw myself on the mercy of one of my friends who have power. Because I could really use a shower.

Also, now I have a red wine hangover. Happy Monday.

ETA Just got a call from Dominion Virginia saying that they believe the power is back on. Hooray! I won't have to throw out everything in my fridge and freezer!

Nothing makes you feel more confident than dreams where the guy you used to date shows up and belittles you (in freakish clown makeup, no less) and then later the UPS guy shows up and tells your mom about your sex life with him and this other guy you work with who you're not even remotely attracted to. I'm super confident for that interview now!

Speaking of, crap, I've got to get going.

Happy birthday to Alan Turing and, of course, me.

I'm at some convention where there's free drinks. It's organized by my work, but someone couldn't read my handwriting and mangled my last name. The lady at the front desk refuses to let me in. After much convincing and some help from a coworker, she does. I have an appletini or something. Everyone's over in a different room listening to someone speak. I put my stuff away in a locker, which I lock with my usual lock and put the key on my wrist (it's on a green wristband keychain I've had IRL since I was 12).

Now I'm looking for Shadow, the character from American Gods. I'm running around this huge building. It's very cold and I'm not wearing enough to keep me warm. I find a bum down in the parking lot. I tell him he can't be here, it's too cold. He'll freeze. Has he seen this guy? He says he has and takes me to him. The closer we get, the faster I start walking until I'm running. He's in the cab of a pickup truck with some other guy. Somehow I plow into the backseat of the cab (the bum jumps in behind that and looks like he will refuse to move... after all, it's warm). There's glass sticking out of my right leg. I say I can't take it out, it's probably stopping bleeding, they'll take it out at the hospital. The other guys say that it's not that bad a cut, take it out, I'll be fine. So, I do. Blood is everywhere and it's a thick gash that runs down from the top of my thigh to the bottom of my thigh. I'm really upset that my healthcare card is in my bag upstairs. I insist that we should go get it before going to the hospital, but we don't. I'm applying pressure to the bottom of my leg, and blood is filling up both of my hands. I'm worried about staining the floor of the truck (it looks new), and then I realize that I'm bleeding a lot and it's really serious. I get lightheaded and giggly, I put my head on Shadow's shoulder and pass out.

Through some buddy program, I'm sent to be a camp counselor for some computer camp in India. I'm really excited because, you know, India. We get there and get in some teeny tiny trailer with 10 kids who barely fit in it. The computers are so old that they run off of cassette tapes. Then we move to a yoga studio type room and are doing various poses in street clothes and shoes. It's hard for most folks to keep their balance because their feet keep slipping. Finally, someone asks all the "pals" to raise our hands. We do, and then he asks us to form a line. We do. He goes down it and asks us to name our fears. One guy talks about skiing and maybe if he'd made it to the semifinals, he'd watch the finals. Someone says something else. pinkhairedcyn says April 29th is Penguin Day and those pictures are really creepy and really scary. We all burst out laughing. I think this is why she moved to San Diego... to get a zoo membership.

Dream #1: I am a space age submissive
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Dream #2: Car Accidents and Fighting
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I went to go listen to a speaker, so at this point I've lost most of the dreams. Both were much longer and had a lot more detail. I just don't remember the rest.