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Saturday, June 24, 2006
DREAM: The Goth Years...sort of
Stan and I were at my parent's house. We were just hanging out in the bedroom that used to be mine a long time ago, the one upstairs that now my mom uses. Supposedly we had a large bed in there (in this dream) where we slept, although IRL not even a full size bed would fit in that room. In the afternoon we got a phone call from our friend Kay, who we haven't heard from for years. Although IRL she's in Europe, probably, in the dream she was right in town. She called us to tell us that Bauhaus was staying at her place, and they were to be playing a show later that night. Despite the fact we were both tired, we decided to go. I was looking through the closet trying to find something to wear and trying on a bunch of clothes that I do not have IRL (let alone have at my parents house). I was a bit disappointed not to find anything suitable and I don't know what I finally decided on. I also didn't want to wear glasses to the show, but I had been wearing my contacts all day and my eyes were burned out, so I didn't know what to do. Supposedly we would call Kay later that evening before we left, but we never did. The next thing I knew, Stan and I were in the parking lot outside of a quick food mart and there was some guy being arrested by the cops. Simultaneously, our cell rang and it was Bill. Although Stan was talking to him, I could hear him as well, and his call was really breaking up. Stan made a motion to me that said "do you want to talk to him?" and I shook my head because I wanted to leave the area and get to the Bauhaus gig. Next thing I knew, I was at the Bauhaus gig, but Kay wasn't there. And Bauhaus didn't look like Bauhaus either...I do remember Peter Murphy, but the rest of the band seemed wrong. I remember telling Stan in the dream that David Jay wasn't there, but I was confused, in fact I meant Daniel Ash. There was some tall guy with a blond pony tail playing guitar...looked like some midwestern college student. No, I don't think this was Bauhaus.
Later, the dream abruptly changes and I'm walking as a participant in some stupid relay fundraiser event...I have no idea what it was, but I'm somewhere near Aberg and Commercial Avenue in Madison that seemed like it hybridized with the west side of the CSU campus. I'm walking along a sidewalk and someone hands off this...wand thing (like a baton, but much heavier) for me to carry that I need to hand off to the next person coming my way. My foot was hurting and the thing was really heavy and I didn't know if I could continue any longer. Fortunately, I see another person coming my way and I quickly give them the wand before they are given a wand by someone coming up quickly behind me. Weird.
Posted by Ann on 06/24/06@09:00 AM CST ..::Link::..Whisper or Scream?
Friday, June 23, 2006
I was just doing a little research on the previous topic and found this delightful picture (scroll down on the page, then scroll down some more, maybe about 2/5 to 1/2 way down for another one) of Matalin accompanying an article around the time of the Great Quail Hunt.
Love the Cheney Bird. Or is that a Quail?
Speaking of Evil Republican morphs...I found one of Anntichrist Coulter the other day morphed into an Afghan Hound...it was funny, but at the same time extremely insulting to dogs.
Posted by Ann on 06/23/06@04:00 PM CST ..::Link::..A Whisper Inside.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
I just went to check this journal. G**gle ad on top says "Hair Extensions." WTF? No where on this page do I mention Hair Extensions. OK, well, so I just mentioned it now. But I mean PRIOR to NOW it was not mentioned. How did the ad get placed? I do mention hair when describing both a female and a cat. But nowhere do I mention the extension part. Targeted advertising works for you! Not.
Anyway that was not what I was originally going to write about. This topic has been nagging at me for possibly years now, but I haven't felt it really worth writing about. I don't care one iota about the lives of famous married couples, I really don't. There is one famous married couple, however, that has really got me completely baffled: James Carville and Mary Matalin. I am completely befuddled as to how those two don't strangle eachother nightly, let alone be divorced already. Are they both masochists? Does having wildly divergent political opinions get them off in bed or what? I mean it's not like Stan and I are in lock step with our political views 100%. Right now we are both of very different opinions regarding the smoking ban in Madison. Stan completely agrees with the ban and would rather see people smoking on the sidewalks than in the bars (which he doesn't go to by the way). I'd rather let the people smoke in the bars (and I can choose not to go to them) than have them loitering and stinking up the sidewalks which is public property where I have to smell it as I walk and drive by. But that is a small thing. On larger issues, national issues, world issues, social issues, we pretty much agree all the way.
So what's the deal with Carville and Matalin? I cannot imagine being married to someone whose fundamental views are so different than yours. I cannot even see me being friends with someone like that as it would lead to nowhere except continuous arguing. This is why my conversations with my dad are so short, and pretty much limit themselves to gardening, a pretty politically neutral activity. Matalin's defense of Ann "T-Christ" Coulter's comments about the 9/11 widows would surely make me consider getting a divorce attorney if I was Carville...that would be my last straw.
It's probably one of those mysteries of the universe that no one will ever know...until they get divorced and one of them spills all their dirty laundry to the tabloids. Hmmm..I wonder if there's a Divorce Pool? My bet is on them.
Posted by Ann on 06/22/06@11:05 AM CST ..::Link::..3 Screamers.
DREAM: And Benefits for All
I don't know if there was something on the news on the radio this morning about this which infiltrated my dreamspace, or what (I checked the WPR program listing and there was no hour-long talk segment on it...not even close), but I dreamt that Stan's employer (the county) was revoking benefits for domestic patners--same-sex couples and common-law marriages. Not that this would effect us, but I felt I had to let my voice be heard that I was in favor of keeping the benefits (you let the religious right take ahold and soon they'll revoke benefits for everyone except when there's a stay-at-home mom with kids and a working father). So I dreamt I was calling up Stan's supervisor to tell him my views...like he could have any bearing on what the legislators do...well, maybe he could, who knows. I was using one of those putty pink colored phones from the mid-century. I was on hold a long time...no one ever answered and I never got to speak before I woke up.
Posted by Ann on 06/22/06@08:48 AM CST ..::Link::..A Whisper Inside.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
DREAM: Surrealistic Garden
In the first dream, Stan's mom was living in the same town we were--whether she lived in Madison or we lived in Montrose was not determined. She was taking off on vacation, and I thought it would be fun if Stan and I spent those days at her house, just as sort of a break from our own. I have a feeling it was the same house that I dreamt she lived in a few months ago...more complex than the one she actually lives in. Because his mom made no suggestion of having us look after her house while she was gone (what would need looking after, really...houseplants?), I felt rather snubbed by that. I wanted Stan and I to go there anyway, to sneak in.
The next dream starts out kind of cute but ends very surreal in a not-very-me sort of way. I was outisde looking into a garden. There were caterpillars feeding on leaves. One of the caterpillars was very large, maybe 8 inches long and 1.5 inches in circumference. It was white with brown and black markings. It had a strange formation on its butt...like a weird tail that I've seen on some geckos, sort of short. Except this tail had fur on it. I think my dad was in the dream. We were sitting down and he was facing me. He looks over his shoulder and sees the caterpillar and it looks at him as if it recognize him as a living entity, as if it was saying hello. Then, it gets difficult to explain, but it is as if the caterpillar turned into a cat. But there was not just one cat, but two, a mother and its one offspring. The mother was all black, and I believe the young one was all black too, but I can't remember. I wanted to keep the young cat (somehow, the mother was already spoken for) The mother had fairly short hair, but the young one had a typically squished Persian or Himalayan face. The hair wasn't *real* long, but I could tell it could potentially trigger my allergies, so as much as I liked this kitten, I knew I couldn't have it. As I was playing with the cats, somehow the chair I was sitting on started moving. It got taller too, so I was swept up on this whirling chair spinning all around this yard. There were people there, strange people, surreal people, people that looked like they came out of The Wizard of Oz, or Yellow Submarine, or weird space flicks. There was this strange old man, fat, bald, with what looked like one yellow tooth encompassing the entirety of his small round open mouth. He was some sort of captain or something. The whirling chair is heading toward him, so I tell him to help me and I'm about to fall into his arms, but for some reason, he doesn't catch me. I'm spinning more, and eventually someone stops me. Maybe it is Stan, I don't know. Then there are a bunch of very tall men that start entering the scene. They are wearing plaid and look like lumberjacks, but they are sort of misshapen, like they're not totally human. Then someone exclaims "The elves are coming! The elves are coming!" I figured these plaid-wearers must be elves. But something didn't make sense. They looked more like trolls. For some reason while I was caught up in the whirling chair before, I managed to wrap a whole bunch of waxy candy around my right hand. As I'm peeling the candy off with my mouth, I lie down on the ground and put my legs up on ledge. A strange white human (literally white, not Caucasian) dressed all in black comes by me. The black he is wearing looks like the texture of licorice sticks, similar to the goo around my hand. For some reason I feel I can speak to him, so I tell him that "the plaid-wearers don't look like elves. I thought elves were human-sized" (recalling the LOTR movie), "I didn't think they were giants. I think these are trolls." The black and white guy looks concerned and tells me he will look into the situation. OK, like what was that about? Was he a dreammaster and he had a technical error and he'll come back with the correct species type for elves later in the dream assuming I don't wake up? Too bad for him. I woke up.
Posted by Ann on 06/20/06@10:15 AM CST ..::Link::..4 Screamers.
Monday, June 19, 2006
DREAM about Architecture
For some reason Stan and I had to leave our home in Madison and move back to Fort Collins. By a strange twist of dream fate, we were able to get back our old house on Grant Street as a rental. I was so happy, even though we didn't own it, we still had a place to live. IRL that house would be much too small for us now, but in the dream it seemed plenty spacious. It seemed to have strange levels or spaces that were either between floors or between walls that provided extra room. The basement was also much larger and spanned the full extent of the house. It was a basement that I seem to have as a frequently reocurring dream basement, where the concrete floors slope, and there's secret hidden rooms that keep going further into the depth of it. There were a bunch of people in the basement running around, one of whom I remember is Pat. She had been taking drugs and was saying some very strange things, but I forgot what. Stan and I were considering having her be our roommate to help pay for the rent. I think we had three bedrooms. Then the layout of the place started to mutate and it began to look like a bungalow, similar to my grandmother's house, except there was a hallway which the bedrooms came off of.
Later I was in a different situation; I was taking a drawing class at the University, but the classroom had desks and chairs like in high school, not like in a college art class. I forgot what the assignment was, but I was conceptualizing a drawing that was based on a newspaper layout, and I would illustrate things (literal objects, as opposed to more intangible things like relationships) that I had lost, layed over the newspaper format. I figured I could do this better at home on my computer than in the classroom, plus I didn't have any art supplies with me. I went out of the room to find my locker to see if I could scrounge up any drawing media, but the building (which was supposedly the inHumanities building at the UW) mutated into my high school in Fort Collins. It was like a hybrid between the two, the traditional early 20th century architecture of the high school and the mid-century not-really-modern the-architect-should-be-shot "what was he thinking?" styling of the inHumanities building. So I kept getting lost in the building because it was both buildings, yet neither building at the same time.
Just for the record, I adore mid-century modern architecture, but the abomination that is the inHumanities building I wouldn't dignify with the title of "mid-century-modern." I don't know what it is really...it's like a 7-story rectangular donut with all this empty space in the center, so it takes forever to get from one end of it to the other (and this is on a campus where space is very precious due to it being on a lake it can't expand in that direction). The art classrooms and studios are on the top two floors, naturally, those are the disciplines that involve the most schlepping of stuff (brilliant). And not all elevators go to the top either. What a great metaphor.
Posted by Ann on 06/19/06@09:56 AM CST ..::Link::..2 Screamers.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
3 Elderly Republicans
Ann wants me to write this one down and it is strange enough to write.
Ann and I were walking and found 3 houses with Republican slogans all over them and there was a billboard out in front with more slogans on it. They were calling their little grass roots organization "Water Front" which was posted at the top of the billboard. In the dream, the name actually belonged to a boating company and these guys were steeling it for their own use. There was something in their writings about their belief that they were going to be important to history, and Ann and I walked away from the three houses.
Three short elderly republican men followed us and walked behind us for a while as we tried to ignore them. One of them stuck a knife to my back while we were walking and I thought he wanted me to turn around - so I kept walking. Then I woke up before anything else happened.
Posted by Stan on 06/18/06@01:29 PM CST ..::Link::..Whisper or Scream?
DREAM with Er*ct*on
Aaargh...I really should write down my dreams right after I have them. Now I can't remember my dream from the previous night too well...something to do with Stan's half-sister, _a_i_. She and I were in a kitchen looking at Italian food to fix or something. But I'm not really sure if that's it. I know there were other things I dreamt about then too, as well as last night, but I can't remember them. Last night I do remember a very strange dream that is hard to explain. I was in a dark place, like an auditorium, with a lot of other people. I was on a concrete ledge with a rather steep (4 feet or more?) falloff onto the next level. There was a young woman...late teens/early 20s with light short blonde hair...no one I recognized. She was pushing a wheelchair and I *think* the man in the wheelchair was Stan's biodad. She went to the edge of the dropoff and kept pushing the wheelchair until he fell off the edge. As he was falling, the chair turned into what looked like a stroller, and the young woman kept holding it as it fell to the level below. The old guy was not hurt, although I thought he would be. Then people were lining up in rows on the floor of that upper level, sitting cross-legged. I couldn't find anywhere to sit, so I sat between two rows of people. There was a guy there who reminded me a bit of someone Stan and I knew in college who painted a picture in our painting class of his girlfriend with her nipple popping out of her bra (it was very askew and seemed to be placed on the breast just so it could be "out" of the bra and was not realistic in the way a nipple would pop out of a bra in real life, even though this guy was striving for it to be realistic) and brought all his non-art-major dork guy friends over to see it and they haw-hawed over it. Thing is, he seemed to have several girlfriends, each brunettes with one eyebrow a piece, and we couldn't figure out which one it was supposed to represent. I'd be a bit insulted if Stan painted me that way, personally, not because it showed nudity...I've painted him and myself *fully* nude before, but because it had an intentionally popping askew nipple--which is just idiotic, so I can only imagine what she thought when she finally saw it. Yet I digress...but just wanted to write a background on the person who the guy in this dream reminded me of. Anyway, the guy in the dream was wearing a turquoise green color loose-fitting drawstring cotton pants, similar to scrubs, but rougher texture. He couldn't find a place to sit either, so he sits down right in front of me so that he's almost in my lap. This gets him excited, and he tells me so, and moves in such a way so that I could see that he was in fact, aroused. Very much so. Behind me and to my left there is an overly-tanned blonde woman who although she is younger than me (maybe late 20s or early 30s--which is what I suspect the guy's age to be as well), she looks older than me in a haggered lifestyle too many wrinkles and whiskey sort of way, plus, she looks late 20s/early 30s in sort of an 80s way, not a 2006 way. She makes some comment to the effect that "she probably doesn't know what that is" suggesting that I'm an unexperienced virgin and didn't know what the mountain in his pants was. For some odd reason, I'm especially timid in this dream...usually in dreams I tell people like that to %*@# themselves...or maybe even pound on them. I wanted to tell her that I've been in the same longterm relationhip since 1982, I oughta know what "that" was. But instead I just kept quiet and ignored the dumb bitch.
Posted by Ann on 06/18/06@09:21 AM CST ..::Link::..3 Screamers.
By Ann @ 09:00 AM CST:06:24:06 ..::Link::..Whisper or Scream?
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