sirena: (Default)

I had the worst dream: it was my wedding day and it was at the reception and apparently I had literally just come out of some sort of fugue state that I had been in for MONTHS. Like I said in the dream, it was like I woke up and there I was, standing in the middle of the reception.

And worst of all, [livejournal.com profile] eurii was nowhere to be found, so Caleb had to be my bridesmaid stand-in. (Not in a dress, Caleb.) And [livejournal.com profile] bigangry wasn't there either, and I couldn't remember if he had RSVPed or not. And then I realized I didn't know if anyone had RSVPed, because I couldn't even remember sending out the invitations, because of the aforementioned fugue state.

But at least everyone liked my dress!

I think this must be some sort of metaphor.

Baby, baby

Jun. 6th, 2010 08:39 pm
sirena: (blue beetle; wtf?)
So I've been rewatching LOST, and I've just finished the first season, and Claire just had the BAY-BEE and all that. Possibly as a result of this, I had an oddly insightful dream the other night. Somehow, I myself had had a baby--a perfect, round-headed baby, who was either GIGANTIC or I had somehow shrunk to the size of a 12-year-old girl. I think it was some sort of hierarchical proportion thing going on (thanks, art history!).

Anyway, here I am, carrying around this huge baby, and everyone is cooing over him and I'm like, "Yeah, this baby! Awesome! I love him!" Except I totally did not. I hated having this baby. And now I would be stuck with him for 18 years. And this is a very real fear of mine, that I'll have a kid and then just resent the hell out of it for the rest of its life. Sorry, future unborn children.

But yeah, I was standing next to my car at a gas station yesterday and the memory of this dream just popped into my head, apropos of nothing, and I thought, "How prescient."
sirena: (blue beetle; wtf?)
NIGHTMARE
NIGHTMAAAARE
(apologies to Jupiter Images, this really belongs to them.)
(also, I know this as an "egg on an island," but I've also heard it referred to as an "egg/bird in a basket," and on an episode of Northern Exposure, Shelly mentioned a variant involving cheese called a "One-Eyed Jack.")


I have had a fucking awful cold since Sunday, maybe Saturday, so I've been miserable and whiny and doped up on the Advil Cold & Sinus. I must have gotten a bad pill last night, because I woke up at about 3 or 4 in the morning with a horrible image in my head. It was an old tv set, playing sequential, closeup stills of a fork mercilessly tearing apart an egg on an island. Yolk flying everywhere, egg-covered fork glinting menacingly. The stills were played slowly at first, each image lingering on the tv for a few seconds, but gradually they sped up to an insane speed, which I think is what really freaked me out.* It wasn't something I had been dreaming about; this was an image that was with me just as I woke up. And I just lay there, utterly terrified by this egg massacre, with a very strange familiar feeling, like this was something that had frightened me when I was little and I had repressed it and not thought about it since.

I glanced over at Jeremy, who was sound asleep. I didn't want to wake him up just because I was hallucinating scary eggs, so I closed my eyes to go back to sleep--and all I could see were horrible, white, cartoony faces with big black eyes staring back at me from my eyelids. I opened them again, stared around the room, thought of eggs, tried desperately not to think of eggs, closed my eyes, saw scary faces, and thought, How will I ever get back to sleep if I can't close my eyes?

I did, eventually, but I can't explain to you the sheer terror I felt in those few minutes when I was tormented by thoughts of eggs.

*Having just listened to "There's No Earthly Way of Knowing" from Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory, there's a similar freaky buildup in that as well.


Anyway, Happy New Year. :D
sirena: (Default)
Apparently I am still not really ready to talk to him on the phone either. Oh God, I can't even tell whether I'm doing well with occasional relapses, or I'm really miserable but just burying it.

I had this dream last night. I'll spare you most of the (cool) details (Beach 6A!), but the gist of it is this. Myself and a bunch of randomly brain-selected friends and family, including Sir Jeremiah, went on vacation to the Bahamas. The islands were accessible by a long underground waterslide that culminated in a chute through a waterfall that did not knock you on your ass as you went through it, as I would expect, but planted you quite nicely on the beach.

Anyway. As the day went on, I noticed that J was no longer with us. I got ahold of a computer and was poking around online when I somehow stumbled upon a website for a monastery. On the screen was a picture of Jeremy and a message saying how excited he was to have just joined, etc.

Yes, that's right. He was so afraid of a relationship that he joined a monastery.

Oh, I laugh.
sirena: (blue beetle; wtf?)
My brother has asked me to kindly spread the word of the new movie he and his friends made: AN INSOMNIAC EXPERIENCES A NIGHTMARE. It is loosely in the vein of Doom House and isn't for those who like their storylines linear. :)

Speaking of traumatic evening episodes, I had a dream last night that was entirely in claymation. It was about an evil prop plane (seaplane?) that really just wanted to have a child. OMG, the terror.
sirena: (dream; nils&arthur)
Last night I had a dream that my brother and I were in the house where they filmed Angels With Dirty Faces (in the dream, obviously--I think the actual movie was filmed on a backlot, most likely). The top part of the house was just a winding staircase we were running down, except over the stairs this kind of ropebridge-type material had been suspended, which...is inconsequential, really. So we ran down

1.5 hours later, still not finished the paragraph.

So we ran down the stairs onto the first floor, which was supposedly haunted, and we were looking for the ghost. We ran around in circles through all the rooms (the house was set up so that all the rooms connected to each other) and didn't see a ghost. We were just about to give up as we ran into the living room for a third time when BAM, there was the ghost actually floating a foot off the floor, in a dirty (dried-bloody?) white long-sleeved t-shirt, with long hair and a beard and grinning like a crazy and we hurried the fuck out of there, man.

TWO HOURS LATER.

So after running out of this house I went walking down the street looking for Tim's apartment, and then I found it, but I woke up before anything good happened. >:(

The night before last, I had a dream that Rachel McAdams was shot to death right in front of me.



I will probably be dying of self-explosion in the next less-than-24-hours, so I want you all to know that it's been fun. :D

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