Posts categorized “Dreams”

17 February 2014

An Alien Invasion Dream with a Surprise Twist Ending!

UFO ATTACK!

Original photo by Andy Magee.

I have to tell you about this dream I had last night. Okay? Okay!

It started off as a standard Alien Invasion type of movie (yes, movie; it had camera angles and edits and was in 3rd person perspective). There were UFO sightings all over the world, but only at night. The UFOs were pretty standard flying-saucer types, but with a lot of blue and green neon accents. Very cool visuals. Each one was only about as long as a city bus.

Pretty soon they started showing up en masse, descending on cities all over the world. Everyone started to panic and run around. A family of which I my character was a member—a teenaged son I believe (yes, in the dream I was not playing myself, and the family had no real-world counterpart; they were just made up for this dream)—piled into a van and there was a really cool action scene of us trying to escape the pursuit of a couple of these Flying Saucers. The van would screech down city streets, the water on the nighttime roads throwing off crazy reflections of the neon Flying Saucers darting overhead, dodging other vehicles and panicking pedestrians.

The van skidded around a corner, across a small bridge over a canal, and down an alley that turned out to be completely congested with vehicles and fleeing people, fleeing in the opposite direction we were going. We screeched to a stop. Three more Flying Saucers were chasing everyone towards us down the alley as the two pursing us popped around the corner behind us and started closing in.

That’s when the Flying Saucers started shooting.

Bright green bursts appeared on the bottom of the Flying Saucers, and everything below them suddenly shuddered as if struck by a giant, invisible blanket. Then quickly gravity started to dissolve and everything underneath the Saucers became weirdly weightless and floated away from the ground, helpless people and vehicles alike, with drops of water sparkling all around and pebbles and stones rising up amongst them.

Then a dark blue blast shot down from the center bottom of the Saucer and struck a vehicle. It instantly collapsed in on itself for a moment like a black hole had been placed inside it, then a white sphere of light shot out of it for just a moment, then there was nothing but a quickly-falling amount of dust. The vehicle was just gone.

The Saucers started steadily advancing towards our van, picking off the helpless, floating people and vehicles with ease, each time a flash of dark blue light, a split-second sense that the object or person was collapsing inward, then a bright sphere of light and a pile of dust.

Seeing that there was no way that we could drive forward any more, and noticing that the Saucers were only attacking things on the street, I noticed an open door on the building to our left and ordered my family out of the van and inside. As we clambered out of the van towards the building, a terrified person nearby crouched down next to his car and clung onto the wheel for dear life. I remember thinking, “Those Saucers can make cars levitate. Does he really think that grabbing onto one is going to make him safe?”

Sure enough, bing-zap-poof, he had been levitated and reduced to dust.

We hid in the abandoned building as the Saucers efficiently went about their work outside, flashes of green and blue and white light peeking through the slats in the boarded-up windows. The noise and screams got steadily less and less, and soon the Saucers seemed to move on.

That’s when I noticed some movement in the darkness of the building. It was an alien in a space suit. It looked a lot like the classic “gray” alien: big head, almond-shaped black eyes. But it had the skeletal grin of the Mars Attacks aliens.

The dream jumped around quite a bit at this point. We escaped from the alien somehow. I realized that he was a ground spotter: he was part of a vast crew of aliens who directed the Saucers from the ground to make sure they didn’t miss any people, and also who went through the building themselves to clean them out. They had guns that did the same collapse-flash-dust special effect on any organic matter they shot (but only organic matter).

The dream jumped to much later in the story when all the cities had been abandoned. I’m not sure what happened to my family, but I was with a wild-eyed, ex-military guy. We were holed up in a small house somewhere in a wooded area. I had a gun. We were playing cat-and-mouse with an armed alien. The military guy lured the alien towards me and I got the drop on him and leaped out, firing my gun and shouting a mighty battle cry. The bullets *tinked* off the alien’s suit as it staggered backwards, until the 4th of 5th bullet managed to puncture something and it slumped forward to the ground.

Apparently this part of the dream was so intense that I actually did my battle cry out loud, in my sleep, in the real world, waking my wife (but thankfully not my baby). She shook me awake. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“…Aliens,” I mumbled.

I was quickly back to sleep. Much more time had passed in the dream. Most of the entire surface of the planet had been reduced to dust. I and a group of people (I think my family was in there) were fleeing through corn fields because for some reason the aliens didn’t zap corn. And they were only about four feet tall, so it seemed an easy feat to lose them in the corn.

As our group exited the far end of the cornfield, though, we were confronted by a dark, dust-covered world. All organic matter was gone. And a massive Flying Saucer, easily 100 yards wide, descended down towards us. Its underside flashed green and we all started to lose our grip on the ground and float upwards. There was a dark-blue flash and a bright white flash in our eyes and then…

We were all standing, disoriented, in a room of some sort, brightly illuminated with pure white walls. Standing in front of us, smiling, were all the people we’d known who earlier in the movie had been zapped by the aliens. They weren’t dead at all, they explained. Those beams didn’t disintegrate things; they were teleportation beams! The aliens were trying to remove as much of the Earth’s population of plants, animals, and humans because their advanced sensors had discovered that our sun was about to jettison out a massive solar flare that would overwhelm the Earth’s magnetic field and completely immolate the entire planet, killing everyone and everything.

The aliens weren’t killing off humanity; they were saving it!

A giant monitor appeared on one of the walls, and a woman exclaimed, “Look! It’s about to happen!” On the screen the Earth appeared, and towards it rushed an enormous jet of flame, many times larger than the puny planet. It slammed into and engulfed the Earth. The magnetic field parted it for just a moment before the flames punched straight through and consumed the entire surface of the planet, transforming it into a glowing ember, like a dying piece of charcoal in the night.

A woman explained that the alien’s methods of communicating were so different from humans that they could not figure out a way to tell us their intentions, so they just went ahead and tried to save us anyway. I felt really bad about killing that one alien, but someone reassured me that the aliens knew that there would be casualties but that it was worth it to save an entire planet.

“But where are we?” I asked.

“Our new home,” someone said. A massive door opened up in the far side of the room and revealed a distinctly Earth-like vista: a field and a forest and mountains in the background, with Earth birds flying through the sky. “They managed to teleport almost everything directly to this new planet.”

Then I woke up.

THE END.

Anyways, I’m off now to see the Hellfyre Club perform their musics at The Crocodile.

Categories: Dreams.

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27 September 2013

The Jeep Pervert Dream

Jeep Photo by Bryce David

Photo by Bryce David, who is not a Jeep Pervert as far as I know. Creative Commons License

On Wednesday night I had a very funny dream. This was one of those dreams that I’m not even in. It’s like there’s a movie playing in my head, complete with camera angles and edits. Here’s how this one went:

Two men have pulled a successful heist and have gotten away with a bunch of money in their SUV. One of them is a little older & grizzled, kinda like James Caan how he looked in the 1990s, but maybe a bit leaner. The other guy is a taller, wiry, and slightly balding redhead with short-shorn hair and a goatee. He looks kinda like a cross between first-season-Mythbusters Adam Savage and Jesse Tyler Ferguson from Modern Family.

The two are traversing the back roads of the American Southwest on their way to Mexico. In order to avoid any chance of exposure, they decide not to stop at gas stations to refuel, and only to siphon gas from parked vehicles. They discover that many cars nowadays don’t have easy access to the gas cap; you have to break into the car and pull a little lever to open the gas cap. This is an unacceptable risk to the two thieves.

But they soon discover that Jeeps have completely-exposed gas caps, so they pledge to siphon gas from nothing but Jeeps from here on out.

They successfully suck gas from Jeeps in the middle of the night and continue south for an entire day until they get low on gas again. It gets dark, and then they find a poorly-lit (but huge) parking lot that is behind some sort of bar or maybe a casino. Cars frequently come and go, even in the middle of the night, but it would be easy to hide from view and siphon the gas from a Jeep. Unfortunately there are none in the parking lot!

The two decide to settle in for a stakeout. The Grizzled Guy wants to sleep first, so he makes the Wiry Ginger keep first watch.

GRIZZLED GUY
Be sure to wake me if you see a Jeep pull in.

WIRY GUY
Sure thing! No problem!

Grizzled Guy promptly dozes off. Wiry Guy takes his task seriously, and intensely and with high-energy watches for any possible sign of a Jeep entering the parking lot. He is seriously wired, bouncing up and down in his seat, his bugged-out eyes darting back and forth at any sign of movement. He is grinning like an idiot, so excited at the possibility of seeing a Jeep.

Finally, not one but TWO Jeeps independently pull into the parking lot. Wiry Guy squeals and bounces up and down in his seat, over-vigorously shaking Grizzled Guy away. Grizzled guy opens his eyes.

WIRY GUY
Two Jeeps! TWO JEEPS!!

Grizzled Guy groggily looks at just how overly-excited Wiry Guy is at seeing two jeeps. He shoves Wiry Guy’s hands away from him.

GRIZZLED GUY
What are you, a Jeep Pervert?

At this point I woke up laughing. I couldn’t believe my dream people came up with the phrase “Jeep Pervert.”

Categories: Dreams.

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20 August 2010

The Perfect Pilot Baby Dream

I had a very Robotech/Starblazers/Gundam inspired dream a few nights ago.

I was a space fighter pilot in Earth’s space military: Ensign Chris Harris.

The enemy planet had been doing crazy stuff with genetic engineering, and I somehow discovered that they’d genetically engineered the “Perfect Pilot.” Well, an enemy fighter pilot (who was himself a genetically engineered person called a “Protoform” – but nobody from Earth knew what a “Protoform” was yet) decided to defect to Earth’s side and stole the Perfect Pilot, who had just been created and therefore was a newborn baby. A couple of my teammates and I arranged to sneak the Protoform and the baby into Earth territory.

We all met in a small, white room. It looked like it a cross between an airlock, a medical bay, and a locker room. The defector handed the baby over to one of my teammates, a woman, who started checking it over to make sure it was healthy and whatnot.

The defector was completely covered from head to toe, wearing a tight black bodysuit with silver stripes on it and a helmet that looked a lot like a cross between Samus’s helmet (from the Metroid Games) and a motorcycle helmet with a tinted visor, disallowing us from seeing his face. He and I were talking about something—I don’t remember what—when suddenly he said, “Oh. Oh, geez. Whoops!” He flipped up his visor and we watched in amazement as a completely featureless face very rapidly morphed into an exact replica of my face (except without a beard, because I didn’t have a beard in the dream).

The defector explained that he was a “Protoform”: a genetic blank slate of a person. He had accidentally “imprinted” himself with me and became my exact genetic duplicate; He looked and sounded exactly like me.

I got the idea to let the Protoform take my place so that I could raise the Perfect Pilot baby. I forged a new identity for myself as an ace mechanic and forged adoption papers for the baby. But I knew I would need help, and so I got someone to co-sign the adoption papers with me: Ensign Xavia Nova Olson, Earth’s most kick-ass space fighter pilot.

We raised the baby together for five years, at which point someone in the military took a closer look at our situation due to the fact that this five-year-old kid was already a better pilot than ANYONE else. So they discovered what we’d done, but even though they were pretty angry it was too late to really do anything about it since we’d raised the kid from infancy. And the Protoform (as “Chris Harris”) had proven himself to be an invaluable member of Earth’s military. So we only got stern reprimands but no real punishment. They just kinda wagged their fingers and said, “Well, you really shouldn’t have done that.”

That’s around the time that I woke up.

It was an interesting dream, but I could tell my dream people were kinda grasping at straws at various points. A lot of the scenery was taken straight out of Star Wars and the above-mentioned animé series. The term “Protoform” is actually from a couple of different incarnations of The Transformers. It’s what a Transformer is before it has an alternate mode, so it was kinda applicable to the defector’s genetic blank-slate state. And when my dream needed someone to help me raise the baby, my dream people went, “Quick, which one of Chris’s friends has the most science-fiction-sounding name!?” and came up with Xavia Nova Olson, whose name does indeed sound like it coulda come from Gundam Wing.

When I woke up I had the feeling that I was really only maybe halfway through the dream. I had the feeling that in the second half of the dream the enemy planet would have figured out where their Perfect Pilot had disappeared to and would have attacked us to try to get him back, and there would probably have been some big action scene and it would have turned out that one of my superior officers was the traitor who tipped off the enemy planet.

Categories: Dreams.

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4 June 2010

The Vintigglia Tapes/Chair

Last night I had an absolutely incredible dream. I woke up laughing several times, but forced myself immediately back to sleep because I wanted it to continue. And a couple of times I woke up in my dream just so I could explain the dream to people.

What was the dream about? It was about discovering a strange, rare, semi-legendary film/documentary that was made in the 1960s and worked on “for 30 years.” No official print of it was ever made, so there are only pieced-together versions based on what footage could be found. The film was called, as near as I can tell, The Vintigglia Tapes/Chair, though it was also just called Vintigglia for short.

It was one of the most meta films ever made because it was not only a fictional story, but it was simultaneously a documentary about the making of itself.

I only know the plot synopses because at one point during the movie (in the middle of a scene, no less) an interviewer with a microphone stepped up to the main character, a young man with a crappy 60s mustache, and asked, “What is this movie you’re making about?”

The young man, confused, took the microphone and used it as a pencil to write down the answer on a pad of paper. He wrote this synopsis:

A young man with a crappy 60s mustache searches for a mystical fork/chair combo.

I laughed and laughed. I would NEVER have been able to figure that synopsis out based on the footage I saw. I also loved that the microphone actually worked as a pencil. In fact, the interviewer/reporter tried to ask a few more questions, but the main character refused to answer them out loud; he just kept scribbling the answers on the paper with the microphone.

Let me tell you about the other scenes that I remember watching. First of all, I should mention that most of the movie was filmed in the same room or two of an apartment. It was supposed to take place in several locations, but they didn’t even try to dress up the apartment to make it look different. Also, the “special effects” in the movie were of public access television quality.

Example: Towards the beginning of the film (though I dreamed it towards the end of the dream), the Young Man with the Crappy 60s Mustache and his sidekick, a young man with enormous glasses (each lens five inches wide) whose entire face was one big burn scar (but not in a gross way), set out on their quest. For some reason they had to cover their faces with papier-maché and cross an ocean. There they were simultaneously attacked by a bird, which was played by a store-bought bird pinata, and a shark, which was 2-dimensional and made out of felt and construction paper. The shark ended up “eating” the bird (the pinata was pushed through a hole in the shark’s mouth between its felt teeth), allowing the heroes to escape. This whole scene was filmed in the apartment. The ocean was created by a couple of guys flopping a blue-and-white quilt around on the floor, and no effort whatsoever was made to hide them or the people who were puppeteering the bird and shark. Also, the sidekick kept on accidentally tearing the papier-maché on his face (mostly because it was plastered entirely over his humongous glasses and he couldn’t see at all) and commenting about it. But they kept that in the movie because it was a “documentary” about the “making of” The Vintigglia Tapes/Chair. A narrator, in fact, intruded to mention that the sidekick ripped his papier-maché mask, which was not supposed to happen.

Another scene filmed in the same apartment took place much later in the movie. It was a party of some sort, kind of the rich and snooty type. The host was talking to two guests who were sitting on a couch:

HOST
I’m so glad you could come!

WOMAN
Delighted to be here.

MAN
(stuffing hors-d’ouvres into his mouth)
Mmm… yes, yes…

HOST
(to Man)
I don’t suppose you’ve had time to make that jewelry that I ordered from you…?

WOMAN
(to Man)
Yes, do you think you could possibly finish it this year?

At that point the man and woman were attacked by a horrific, giant bird (yes, I see a theme there)! The special effect of the bird attack consisted of intercutting between the two guests screaming while still seated on a couch, and a still photograph of a bird. Every time it cut back to the bird, the photograph was slightly closer to the camera. Also, to heighten the tension, “¡Attenzione!” was superimposed across the bottom of the screen whenever the photograph was shown.

When the bird finally got close enough to attack (after about three or four rounds of cutting back and forth). It cut back to the screaming guests, who suddenly stopped screaming as an egg dropped in from the top of the screen. The man caught it without breaking it and looked at it, confused. It seemed the bird’s “attack” consisted of it trying to lay an egg on someone. The bird was never seen nor mentioned again.

At that point the main character and the sidekick entered the party. The sidekick went right up to the hors-d’ouvre table to find something to eat. He pulled from a bowl a frozen chicken cutlet. An incredibly befuddled expression came over his burned face, and he slapped himself on his lips with the frozen piece of chicken over and over again, while pleadingly looking at the main character as if to ask, “How am I supposed to eat this!?”

I’m pretty sure I woke myself up laughing at that point.

Some scenes weren’t filmed in the apartment. Some scenes were filmed outside.

One scene took place in a dusty and grassy field. It was filmed with low-quality 1960s film stock. Inside a convertible parked in this field, a greaser with a black leather jacket was having a serious conversation with a girl-next-door type of young woman. The narrator from Beyond the Valley of the Dolls was narrating over them. Without warning, it cut to a woman lying on her back in the field about 15 feet away from the car. She was dreamily rolling the back of her beehive hairdo into the dusty ground as the tall grass around her swayed gently in the breeze. The narrator said, “Sally, meanwhile, was still on drugs.” This cutaway with the exact same narration happened three times during the course of the scene.

Shortly after that was a sequence where a young woman (it could have been the same girl-next-door from the car scene; I’m not sure) and a young man with curly Greg Brady hair and wearing a red flannel shirt were frolicking at the base of a cliff, giggling and chasing each other and hiding behind rocky outcroppings and trees. A soft spring sun shone down around them. It was one of those goofy, innocent scenes that you can only really find in 1960s movies. Plus there was a light, breezy 1960s movie instrumental song playing in the background, the kind of song with violins and an acoustic guitar. But during the whole course of the scene, which was several minutes long, people’s names kept appearing in the lower right corner of the screen in a fancy script.

I was very confused by this, and I turned to Carrie (who was watching the movie with me at this point) and said, “Are those supposed to be credits? I don’t think any of those people are actually in this movie… or helped make it.”

Indeed, they just seemed to be randomly-generated names, or sometimes names of famous actors who clearly were not in Vintigglia. It was also very strange because the scene took place right around the middle of the movie.

Then on the lower left corner of the screen a name that I recognized appeared in sans-serif font: “Brian Michael Bendis.” The Brian Michael Bendis? The guy who is basically responsible for the direction of the Marvel universe for the past decade? I knew that the film was supposedly “worked on” through the mid-90s. Did Bendis have something to do with it?

This got me into research mode, so I decided to see what I could find out about Vintigglia. I discovered a fascinating academic debate as to whether or not the whole film was some sort of a hoax. None of the people who appeared in the film could be identified at all—none of them ever appeared in a single other movie, TV show, or even commercial, and a credit list was never actually written for the film during its production. Nobody had ever been able to match the faces of the actors in Vintigglia to anybody who was alive during its production. Also, nobody had ever been able to find in the real world the locations where the movie had been filmed. There were some scholars who thought there was a good chance that the whole film was relatively modern, and just used props, costumes, and film stock to make it look like it was filmed in the 60s.

Then while Carrie & I were looking through a tiny used bookstore, I happened upon a section of a small shelf that had a bunch of graphic novels and trade paperbacks written by Brian Michael Bendis. And there, nestled among the comics, was a hardback book. The spine read, “Vintigglia – Brian Michael Bendis.”

I eagerly snatched it up and flipped through it. It was an account of Bendis’s own research into the film after he discovered that his name was in it, and how he discovered various fragments of footage and the research that led him to be able to piece together an almost-definitive version (the version, it turns out, that we had been watching). He even believed that he had discovered the man who wrote, directed, and edited the movie, but the man had died the year before Bendis first heard of the film, and had left behind absolutely no records whatsoever so there was no way to verify anything.

The whole movie then began to take on this almost mystical quality. How was it made? Who were the people in the film? Why did nobody recognize any of them? It almost seemed as if it sprung into existence directly on the film itself, like how the creepy girl psychically imprinted images directly onto a video tape in The Ring. It was impossible for Vintigglia to exist, and yet we had watched it.

At several points during the night I “woke up” in my dream and—while still dreaming in real life—found various people I knew and told them how awesome this dream was. There were also at least two times when I “woke up” in the dream and thought, “That had to have been real, right? That movie was too awesome not to really exist!”

This was one of the best, most epic dreams I’ve had in a long time, and it was thoroughly enjoyable the whole way through. There were several points during the film where I clearly read stuff (Brian Michael Bendis’s name, the written-down plot synopses, and the Italian “¡Attenzione!”—I can even see the font for that one), so that whole myth about not being able to read in your sleep is completely busted. But I knew that; I periodically read stuff in my sleep. It was also hysterically funny. I give The Vintigglia Tapes/Chair four stars: ****

Categories: Dreams, Movies.

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26 May 2010

Rooms in the Attic

I was going through old writings, and I found this transcription of a dream I had back in November of 2008!

A couple of nights ago I had another one of my “building” dreams, wherein my dream people construct some sort of structure for me to explore. It happens with surprising frequency, and they’re some of my favorite dreams.

This one was a bit different, though, in that it was based on my own house:Carrie & I were hosting some sort of small party or something in the middle of the day. There were people over at our house. It was actually our real-life house with the correct layout and furniture and everything. Carrie, as usual, was spending most of the party in the kitchen making drinks and prepping food and all that fun stuff. At one point we ran out of something and I asked her where it was so I could grab some more.

“Oh,” she said, “I put it in the attic.”

“In the attic?” I was surprised. We’ve NEVER gone into the attic since we moved in here five years ago.

“Yeah,” Carrie said. “I got in one of my cleaning fits, and I ran out of stuff to clean down here so I started cleaning the attic. Come take a look!”

She led me out into the laundry room in the east end of the house where a panel in the ceiling led to the attic (in the real world this panel is in Carrie’s closet) and after a bit of wiggling she crawled up into it and then helped pull me up as well.

There was a rather small, cramped space up there, but with drywall and carpet instead of exposed beams. There was a window on the east wall that let in light. In the northwest corner of this area, though, was a very narrow hallway that went west a couple of feet. After one step down it opened up into a small, windowless, carpeted living room type of space with an angled roof. There was a leather couch on the east wall. The south and west walls were covered with cheap steel shelving, on which were displayed dozens and dozens of classic toys: Gaiking, a lion Voltron, and tons of other 80s toys.

Needless to say I was extatic. This was amazing! “Yeah,” Carrie continued, “I cleaned up this room but didn’t know what to do with all of this stuff. I think we should get rid of the TV.”

Indeed, there was a TV on one of the south-wall shelves. “Not so fast,” I said as I examined it. “Our TV is on its last legs. Maybe we can use this one.”

Carrie picked up some bottles of apple cider (what we’d come up here to get) and I noticed that there was an opening to another hallway in the northwest corner of this living room. “What’s down here?”

“I don’t know,” Carrie said. “I never got that far.”

I promptly headed down the hallway. About five feet down there was an open doorway on the right (to the north). On the other side of the doorway was a small, furnished bedroom with a sunny window. About five feet further down the hall ended at another small, furnished bedroom which took up the entire remainder of the west end of the attic.

“Hey, there are two more bedrooms up here!” I called out to Carrie, who followed me into the hallway. “That makes this a five-bedroom house,” I said with faulty math. It only made the house have four bedrooms, not five.

This west-most bedroom had sliding glass doors on its north wall. They opened onto a small deck, maybe 5′ × 7′. The west railing opened onto a path, which I followed. It wound around the rooftops of the neighborhood houses. The neighborhood suddenly had become like something out of a Miyazaki movie, like Porco Rosso or Kiki’s Delivery Service: old-world European with a lot of flowers and stones and moss.

I totally remember that dream! It was really cool how the world in the dream kept on unfolding and expanding, and the rooftops at the end were truly beautiful in the gentle, warm sunlight. Good job, Dream People!

Categories: Dreams.

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13 July 2009

Missing Socks and a Baby Party

Last week I had two great dreams in one night. The first one I call The Case of the Missing Socks:

Carrie & I lived in a house that isn’t the house where we actually live. This one was situated on a couple of acres of fields and trees. It had a porch that wrapped around the entire perimeter. The bedroom had floor-to-ceiling windows, and just on the other side of the porch opposite these windows was a rather large bush.

I couldn’t find my socks. I had some socks, but not nearly as many as I should have had. They kept on disappearing and I couldn’t figure out why. It was pretty steady, too. I’d put them away in my sock drawer and when I went to get some out there would be less and less each time. It was very puzzling to me.

Soon I found them, though: they were in that bush outside the bedroom windows. They were dangling from the branches like bananas, but it was obvious that they weren’t growing from the branches. The bush didn’t produce socks, my socks somehow ended up in the bush. I thought this was incredibly bizarre, so I asked my friends and family if they knew how the heck this was happening.

None of them thought it was in the least bit odd. They were like, “Oh, good, you found them.”

“Yes, but they were in a bush. Outside!”

“Well, that’s good.”

I tried to get them to help me figure out how they could have possibly gotten in there, but everyone just kinda thought that that’s where they ended up because that’s where they ended up. Somebody did kinda half-assedly make a suggestion, though: “Maybe the floor in your bedroom is slanted just a little?” The implication being that my socks were rolling across the bedroom floor, across the porch, and then landing in the bush.

The problem, of course, was that they weren’t rolled up when they were in the bush. They were fully un-rolled. I was getting kind of frustrated at everybody’s indifference to this very strange mystery.

Unfortunately at that point I had to use the bathroom, so I got up and took care of business. When I went back to bed I had another, seemingly unrelated dream:

Two of my friends, who in real-life are expecting a baby, went to the doctor’s office and learned that they were having a boy. They were so excited (especially the guy) that they decided to throw an impromptu “We’re Having a Boy” party. They decided to have it at my house. Without telling me or Carrie about it beforehand.

In the time it took them to drive from the doctor’s office to my house (which in this dream was actually my real house) they had planned the entire party and invited all of the guests. They all arrived at my house shortly before Carrie & I did—we had been off doing errands of some sort.

‘What the Hell is going on?” I asked the guy.

“We’re having a party at your house!” he said with a big smile on his face.

There were tons of people in the house. Must have been 40-50. My dream people were just throwing random people in my life in there as extras: Fools Play friends, Bead Factory people, etc. Eventually, though, they must have run out of people I actually know and in desperation threw in someone random.

Nathan Fillion was at the party.

But he was tiny. Maybe 5′2″ at the most. And he had his “Caleb” haircut from Season 7 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

By way of explanation, the guy who planned the party simply said, “Oh, yeah, I invited Nathan Fillion.”

It really didn’t seem like that big of a deal for him to be at the party. He wasn’t mobbed by people wanting an autograph or a picture or anything. Nobody was really talking to him all that much, so we went over to talk to him. He seemed like a very pleasant fellow, and I guess we’d known him for a while because he knew our names and stuff like that.

As we were talking a thought suddenly struck me. “I bet Nathan Fillion would get a kick out of that story.”

So I said to him, “Oh, hey, Nathan, you’re never gonna believe this dream I just had. You see, my socks kept on disappearing…” and I explained my entire previous dream to him. He agreed with me that it was very strange that nobody thought that it was weird that my socks were in a bush.

If the dream continued after that I don’t remember it very much. I should add that Nathan Fillion was wearing a sports coat over a T-shirt and was holding a yellowish drink in a clear plastic cup the whole time.

Well done, dream people! Both those dreams were excellently amusing.

Categories: Dreams.

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30 June 2009

Tornado = Tarp

I had a tornado dream a couple of nights ago! Hooray! I so heart my tornado dreams. This one was unusual in that very early on I realized it was a dream. You’ll see why:

My brother & I were looking out the back of the house we grew up in (in Kent). The sky was clouded with a pretty uniform light gray, but in the center of the sky a big swirl was starting to form. We were very excited about this, because tornadoes come from swirly clouds.

But there was something almost immediately odd about the swirl in the clouds. It was too regular. Too… fractal. Like this:

fractalmany

I was immediately suspicious, and told my brother, “I think this might be a dream.” But almost immediately an actual funnel cloud formed and dove for the ground. It wasn’t so much a funnel cloud, though, as it was a wiggly vertical tube cloud that descended from the spiral.

We were very pleased by this development; it seemed realistic enough. We eagerly watched as the bottom of the tube approached the ground.

But then *BOINK* the instant the tornado touched down it was, as if by magic, replaced with a gigantic orange tarp. Several hundred feet tall, awkwardly rolled up and bound by many ropes.

“Yeah,” I said to my brother, “this is a dream all right.”

My dream people valiantly tried to keep the dream going after that, which included us storm-chasing in a car a very tiny tornado (about 12″ wide) that was headed for Seattle, while simultaneously being “chased” (it was more just lazily following us) by an identical tornado. When we got to Seattle I think my dream people didn’t feel like accurately rendering the city, because it didn’t look at all like the real Seattle.

But what were they thinking? A tornado transforms into an enormous orange tarp? What the heck kind of dream is that?

Soon after that I switched to another dream entirely that was a post-apocalyptic story about an afterlife in which everybody got indestructible bodies that were exact copies of their real ones, but then had to live among the ruins on Earth. Also, there was an angel who was in charge of all of this who was kind of awkward and didn’t know how to comfort all of the horribly upset, recently-deceased people.

Categories: Dreams, Tornadoes.

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