Oh yay I remembered my password!

So many crazy dreams, why I slacked off all this time I'll never know. Oh wait. I was sick. And depressed. Luckily the sickness is gone.

Where to begin? I know there were some really awesome dreams, really creepy/crazy dreams... but I only remember a couple now.

In this particular one, my friend and I were nurses or something and we were in the midst of taking an elevator up to some room or whatever. And we were packing guns. Maybe we were secret agents, that'd be fun. You'd think there'd be tons of tension and suspense in this situation, two nurses sneaking guns into a hospital place. But everything was fine. So fine, in fact, that we decided to be snotty brats to another nurse who needed to take the elevator up with us. We didn't let her on the elevator with us. Oh-ho, what pranksters we were. She got pissed, so I rode the elevator back down to apologize and let her know it was all just for fun. But she wouldn't have any of that. Next thing I knew, she had me by the head, drug me into a bathroom, and proceeded to beat the living hell outta me. And then it ended.

And the last dream I sort of remember took place in space again. It doesn't matter if there are blackholes, exploding suns, or just a peaceful scene of looking at Earth; I'm always terrified no matter what's happening in these particular dreams. There's just something eerie about gigantic spherical objects floating in a vacuum. Anyway, there was a planet (not sure if it was supposed to be Earth) that my mom and I were leaving. We were in an elevator or something, a one-room ship with windows on all sides so we could see everything. Not sure what was happening with the planet; it glowed really bright and then faded out. I wanted to leave it and get away, but my dad was there. So we went back to the planet. The last thing I recall was being scared that we'd disintegrate upon entering the planet's atmosphere and all that, but nothing happened.

You'll Win 44 Falcon Punches if the Price is Right

Wow, haven't updated this in a while! It's been forever since I had any noteworthy dreams, and even longer since I've had any fish or outer space dreams. In fact, the fish dreams seem to have completely gone away, at least so since the beginning of the year. Weiiiird.

Now that the fish dreams are gone, I've begun to talk in my sleep. Not all the time-- hardly ever, actually. But considering I've never talked in my sleep, this seems out of the ordinary to me. How do I know I'm talking in my sleep?-- I'm conscious just enough that I can remember having muttered something. And apparently I like Falcon punches (hi-fives to anyone who knows what I'm talking about).

"You're talking in your sleep. ... Fourty-four. ... You know, Falcon punches."

Aside from this rare sleep-talking incident, my dreams have been meh. Except last's night's dream. It was WEIRD.

The earliest part I can remember is getting on the Price is Right show and making it to the showcase showdown. I was up there jumping and screaming, and I really wanted to ask Drew Carey about the old Whose Line show, but for some reason I couldn't talk. In order to win the showcase, we had to bowl a strike, so this bowling lane appeared, and it was short. Really short. My brother appeared and went up to bowl, but he threw the ball too hard and it went behind the pins, so he didn't win. I was sure I'd get a strike because I wasn't going to throw the ball very hard, but it flew behind the pins anyways, so I didn't win either.

After this part, I was in some sort of house or building. It was really dark, and I was running from something. There were these people things that would appear randomly throughout the house and suck you toward them. Their heads were white starburst things. One trapped me in a corner, but since I didn't look at it, apparently I got away or something. And then one sucked me up and said "take off your clothes," and next thing I know I'm a hostage or something. Somebody else had been tied up and put in a car trunk, but for whatever reason I broke free and drove the car down this really steep dirt hill. A giant black sun was on the horizon (and this was HUGE! Abnormally huge considering our distance from it), and its flares were blue and shaped like lotus petals. (I guess that part would be the extent of the outer spacey scary stuff).

Then I stop the car in a valley thing, with a shallow lake to the left, and a rocky dirt trail on the right leading up and around the lake. I had a guitar of sorts in my hand and was trying to coil wire around one of the nobs, so I asked one of our captors for help in order to distract him so the other person could escape. Suddenly the person in the trunk had managed to run to the other side of the lake, even though there were crocodiles in it. One of the captors got caught by a croc, and during this time I ran up the dirt trail and around the other side to a jungle area.

Somehow I knew that once we had reached this side of the lake, everything was good, that the dream was over. Or something. It was a weird feeling. The last thing I remember was that a gorilla dropped down from a tree with a baby and gave it to us for whatever reason. The baby gorilla could talk, and it said something about finding its home with us.

Yeeaaahh. Maybe someday all my crazy dreams will be of value and psychologists can analyze them! By the by, I'm also curious as to whether most people dream in color or in black and white. I've heard lots of different things about this, and personally, I don't remember ever having a dream that wasn't in color.

Her Majesty's Crumpets

Woohoo! After all these years of being a huge Beatles fan, I finally had a dream in which they made an appearance. It's a nice change from all the weird fish and death-of-humanity dreams, sheesh.

Anyways, I was at a house with somebody (can't remember who) and we went out on the back porch and suddenly George Harrison was there. His hair was very curly/kinky, and he was also overweight (why??). I gasped and silently freaked inside, and then ran up and shook his hand.

"Oh my god. George... Harrison?" I whispered.

He smiled and nodded, then turned to this pile of stuff and began sifting through it. I got the feeling he was looking for a painting or something.

Since George was there, I immediately wondered if the other Beatles would show up, too. But apparently Paul and Ringo had other plans; they never showed up.

Then I was out on the front porch talking to some random, unidentifiable people when John Lennon walked up to me. He was holding a framed canvas in his hands, and he said something on the order of liking the painting. I was sort of puzzled as to why he wasn't being totally sarcastic and rude. I looked at the painting and silently freaked inside again: the painting John was holding is the painting of him I did that's currently hanging with the other Beatles on my bedroom wall (oooh, how eerie and cool!). I was so shocked and happy and stumbled around for words and eventually came out with how I didn't like the painting all that much because I messed up on a few areas, and pointed out one area in particular-- the lower right corner. The paint or part of the canvas was peeling off there. But John didn't seem to mind; he was very calm and sincere and said that I could fix that part. However, I jumped in and said that I would just repaint the whole thing for him.

And that's about as much as I can remember. How sad. Hopefully the Beatles, or some of them at least, will return to my dreams more often. It was a very happy time.

SAM i AM

The Impressionist exhibit at the Seattle Art Museum was quite interesting. It was amazing standing just inches away from some of the world's greatest pieces of art, but other things didn't seem to fit. Like the complete lack of any Van Gogh paintings. I'm pretty sure he was an Impressionist (about as impression-y as it could get, actually). The presence of paintings that were clearly not Impressionistic also baffled me. Especially Titian's Danae and the Shower of Gold.

This could've been part of an Enlightenment or Renaissance exhibit if there was one, but not part of this particular exhibit. Also, I don't remember seeing any sort of figure in the right portion of the painting, so the one on display must have been an alternate or something. I guess. *confused* According to the story, Zeus became angry over something (probably that Danae had yet to be ravished), so he came down to her disguised as gold and knocked her up, after which she gave birth to Perseus. How terribly sexist.

Which brings me to another observation: I don't recall any female artists on display in that exhibit. Perhaps there were a couple in the Family/Kids/Kitch gallery (which is related to Impressionism how?). That would figure. It really surprised me to see no Bouguereau paintings in this gallery, though, considering the majority of his paintings consisted of women, women holding babies, babies holding babies, naked girls, naked girls posing in suggestive ways, and so on.

Tell me what isn't wrong about that painting.

And this brings me to yet another thought: Now that I think back on everything I saw at the museum, if there was a naked figure it was always a woman. The only naked men on display were little sculptures and statues down in the Africa/Middle East/Greece/Rome galleries. It's nice to see this idea of female exploitation reinforced so strongly in American society.

Aside from all the sexism inherent throughout the museum, I managed to have a fairly decent time there. I saw one of those typical medieval egg tempera paintings of the Madonna holding her child, but this one was different from all the others in that it included one extremely long, boney, alien-like finger on the woman. I wish I could find a pic of it. Pretty hilarious. I also found it interesting how most of the figures of that medieval gallery were depicted with a sickly green/grey hue to their skin. Maybe egg tempera changes color over time, or there's some sort of color theory in religion. But I'll stick with my first thought and say it was due to the Plague.

the darkness is coming

Weirdest dream ever last night. I should've blogged this down sooner, because now I only really remember the last little bit of it. Oh well.

Following the death/destruction theme of my dreams, this particular one involved some sort of meteor shower thing that was destroying Earth. It was night, and my mom and I were in the van, driving down the freeway. All around us comets were crashing to the ground, and people were fleeing on foot or by vehicle. And then we suddenly hit a patch of lava on the freeway and the van melted, and my mom carried me over to the side of the road, her feet burning off in the process. And then we began to walk south down the freeway. I thought of turning back, returning home, or maybe going all the way north to Alaska to escape the destruction, but I knew there was no hope. There was no safe place to go anywhere on Earth. So we continued to walk down the freeway.

Then a cloaked woman walked past us, going north. We asked her what was south, and in a Russian accent she replied, "There is nothing this way; it is darkness." And she walked on by. I looked south, around the bend in the freeway which led into complete darkness. There was nowhere to go; no place to escape. Everyone would be dead soon. We continued down the freeway into the darkness.

have you seen this child?

So apparently I'm on a Cheerios cereal box. Or at least it's a female who supposedly looks just like me (according to everyone who's seen the box). I'm not sure whether to be flattered or offended by that because I look nothing like the woman on the box.

And here's the really weird part: The box is way up on top of the fridge, so when one walks into the kitchen it's not going to get noticed. However, when my friend came over to work on a project, she walked into the kitchen and immediately was like, "omg, is that you on the cereal box?" Why she honed in on the cereal box was just a bit scary.

I can't stand weird social phenomenon like this.

grocery list: tomatoes, lettuce, bombs

It has come to my attention that the majority of my dreams have some sort of death/destruction theme to them: dying fish, being destroyed by blackholes or the sun, space shuttle crashing. And last night's dream was no different.

I was in an supermarket searching for something or somebody when bombs started falling through the ceiling and killing everyone. Then I was outside running, trying to find shelter. The place seemed like a desert, or maybe the place was just barren. More bombs were falling all around me. I looked to my left and saw a bomb hit a group of people, their flesh and blood splattering everywhere, even on me. Then I looked to my right and saw another bomb hit another group of people, splattering them everywhere, too. And all around me this kept happening until I woke up.

For some reason I got the feeling I was in the middle of a war. Maybe this was all due to me having just finished reading Persepolis. o_o;