Winners.

This was fairly recently - I was waking up in the morning and was somewhere between awake and asleep, and I dreamed that my brother was sitting on my bed next to me. He was wearing his red zip-up sweatshirt and jeans and his usual glasses, generally looking Joe-ish. We were watching an outtake reel from "Community" on my laptop and laughing our asses off. We were doing this thing that we used to do as kids where we rewound the same clip over and over again and watched it and laughed hysterically/obnoxiously every time.

I was really happy because it was a very nostalgic Grace-and-Joe moment. When I fully woke up, it was my cat that was actually sitting next to me.

Me, I'm just the lucky kind.

I'm at some sort of convention or arts camp or conference of some sort where there appear to be not only avid animal-lovers but also the majority of people there were young adult musicians. We were assigned hotel rooms based on the name of our pets rather than our own names. I’m rooming with Anna and we use Rosie’s name instead of Max (her dog) because it’s less common.

Performers play and sing at every meeting and meal, and at our opening gathering a stocky brunette starts playing “Things We Said Today” on guitar and singing. I really vividly remember him standing up a few feet away from me on the white tile floor with his acoustic guitar and playing those kind of low and fast notes that start the first phrase in that song - I'll probably post a video for clarification. (Pretty much the first thing you hear. He was a decent guitarist.)



He forgets the lyrics almost immediately. I’m sitting at a table to his right just observing, but I know the song so I start to sing along to help him out. He smiles at me gratefully and continues to occasionally forget his words but I know all of them and am confident when not in the spotlight so I keep singing along with him until the song is over. I worry that I was kind of annoying to everyone else but he thanks me sheepishly.

At that point I go upstairs to find my hotel room, which takes me forever. (And that's not specific to dreams.)

When I finally get to the room that says “Rosie” and then my name and Anna's name in smaller print underneath it. Instead of going into the room, I sit down just outside the door on the carpet; at first I’m not sure why, then I realize it’s because I’m suddenly holding a newborn infant. I seem to have found it on the floor. It’s a baby boy (named Ethan, but I know it's not EMS.) with a scrunched-up pink face and little pink hands. He’s wearing a dark green ones-y and a dark green knitted hat on his head, both with the a large white S (the Michigan State logo) on them. I remember feeling the weight of him in my hands very distinctly. I was supporting his head with one hand and his body with the other and he couldn’t have been more than seven or eight pounds. He was warm. I held him close to me instinctively, and as I did, my mom walked into the hallway. I started babbling, trying to pass off the fact that I was holding a baby (which was apparently somehow my baby) as some sort of silly circumstance, but as would happen in real life, I was actually being struck with deep fear and shame and very quickly stopped feeling maternal and wanted the baby to go away.

Grace ponders human mortality.

This dream is from about a week ago, before I had my hernia surgery. That may or may not have had something to do with the subject matter.

I was standing in a hospital hallway with my younger sister who was somehow also my twin. (And was also an accident, according to my mom.) She looked like a rather skeletal Mayim Bialik. We had just been brought to the hospital because we were both getting faint and having dizzy spells, and we had just found out that we both had a life-threatening pulmonary condition. I left the hospital with the strong sense that one of us was inevitably going to die.

We were at an indoor public pool later in the week when my sister suddenly collapsed. I caught her body and tried to stand her back up or support her but it looked like her head was lolling so far back that I couldn't see it. I shifted her around, trying to find her head so I could see her face, until I suddenly realized that her was no longer attached to her body. I looked around for her head while still clinging onto her body, and finally spotted it at the very bottom of the pool next to us. It was leaking a growing cloud of bright red blood into the pool water.

I started yelling for people to help us, astonished that they hadn't notice the decapitation taking place right next to them. At first no one heard me, and when someone finally did, they didn't take me seriously and just kind of casually walked over before finally realizing it was an emergency situation. It was obviously too late for my sister, her headless body was already dead in my arms, and there was nothing I or any of the others could do to save her.

It turns out she died because she had sex directly after eating. (We had weirdly specific physical and dietary restrictions due to our heart condition.) She was like thirteen years old and I'm a nineteen year-old virgin so I kind of said a little "thank you" to the gods and I'm pretty sure my mother did too because she was upset but not SUPER upset that the twin had died because as she told me very bluntly, my sister had been an accident and I had much more promise anyway. We took her body but left her head, hidden in the cloud of blood, at the bottom of the pool for someone else to retrieve and clean up because that would be too disturbing for us to do.

Later on I'm in a band or orchestra class, in a flute section with Jake and Irene. (The picture is an old photo and Irene and I at a real orchestra rehearsal.) At every rehearsal they would give each other a look, then get up to "go to the bathroom" at intervals so they could hang out in the hallway. I would occasionally participate, but on this instance I really had to use the bathroom (and it was either the same day or the day after my sister died so I kind of got a free pass) and I asked after Jake and Irene had both left, and the teacher said I could go but I had to text someone from the bathroom so she knew I was okay because she was afraid I'd be upset and suicidal.

On the way there I ran into the other two flutists and we strolled down the hallway a little ways, chatting and laughing which made me feel better. We passed Jake's locker which had a sign I had made for him with his name and big hemp glasses frames on the door, and next to it was his friend who had committed suicide's locker, which had lots of pictures and letters taped to it in his memory, and it made me awkward and quiet for a moment as we passed it. I woke up shortly after arriving in what I'm pretty sure was the girl's bathroom from my old middle school.

The weird thing is that my old flute buddy Jake died earlier this year, in March. It took me a while after waking up to remember that it wasn't a friend of his who had killed himself. I really enjoyed seeing him again, even if it was in a dream. He was a good guy.

Eyebrows, Guns, and the art of being intertwined.

I brought Red Leader to some kind of extended family thing to meet everyone. It included my dad's whole side of the family with the exception of my cousins Beksahn and Megan, my maternal grandparents, and my mom's brother, Uncle Bob.

All of my dream cousins were completely psycho and some of them were not real. For example; there was this trio of pyromaniac cousins, my cousin Gil being the only one that I knew among them, who I'm pretty sure were trying to kill me with a Bunsen Burner and some fireworks. There was an evil version of Tom Hanks who was a cousin too, he tried to cut off my left eyebrow with a knife to prove that I was a man. He was being crazy and cutting facial hair off of my other cousins to try and prove their gender, because everybody knows that only a man can get his left eyebrow sliced off. Anyway he was being pretty scary and at one point I put my foot down, resisted his threats, (called his bluff) and brought my younger cousins downstairs so they’d be safe. We had a discussion in our office with my parents and Aunt Janet who was sitting in the blue rocking chair about how Tom Hanks’ violence was becoming a real issue for the family.

After that fiasco we had a family dinner. We were eating something like salad and chicken, and they didn't really have a vegetarian option for me. (Vegetarian Problems.) I was sitting to the right of my Uncle Bob and somewhere to my left was my grandpa. I believe we were at my G'ma Leta's dinner table, I was facing the giant wall of windows. Partway through the meal I noticed that there were the words "Fuck You" carved into the side of one of the wooden bowls holding salad, which I pointed out to my parents, except it was "Fuck You," and then a name that started with "D." So I asked my mom who the person with the name starting with "D" was and she said it wasn't a person, it was an underwater gun that was used in WWI. And then she used some metaphor to describe what people turn into when this underwater gun shoots them, it was some very graphic food metaphor like "salsa" or something equally chunky, red, and liquified. Her metaphor was in Zoe from Firefly's voice, kind of like when Zoe was describing why she and Mal both sliced their apples. I kind of gnawed on a crouton for a little while after that and then left the table before the meal was over with Red Leader in tow.

We went up some wooden stairs and passed a girl who apparently goes to college with Red Leader (because we were suddenly in a hallway of dorms) and he had previously talked about how awful she was, (and had referred to her as a "despicable cunt," a phrase he reserves for the few women he can't stand) and I was like, "Hey, is that the despicable cunt?" And he said, yeah. She's a huge dick to everyone. And I asked him what specifically does she do to you, and he said that whenever she's walking behind him or he walks into a room, she sarcastically yells loud sexual innuendos to imply that he's obviously gay and she's being ironic. (Like "OH HOT DAMN, HOPE YOU BROUGHT A CONDOM" or "UH-OH, IT’S MY MAAAAN.” or shit like that in a sarcastic voice.)

I thought that was really funny and just endeared Red Leader to me more, so I hugged him very tightly for a long time and it was really vivid, we were just standing in a dorm hallway in front of a whiteboard that was in between a couple doorways and just hugging each other so tightly that every part of our bodies were touching and my arms felt like they were wrapped around him at least three times and I remember he was wearing his Green Lantern shirt because when I opened my eyes, my face was buried in his neck and I could see the light green collar against his skin.

Then I drew a cartoon of Tom Hanks cutting off my eyebrow on the whiteboard and shortly afterwards discovered that my awesome cousin Beksahn (pictured here being awesome) was in the bedroom right in front of us, lying on his stomach on a double bed, reading. I ran in and jumped on top of him (I do that sort of thing with him) and he groaned and laughed and swatted me because that's what we do. Then I looked at the book he was reading and about 1/3 of it was Chinese symbols (he speaks Chinese) and the rest was in English - the English was the normal text and the Chinese was the dialogue. At first I saw the name "Harry" and a few other familiar phrases and thought he was reading Harry Potter in Chinese. But then I saw a few Lord of the Rings references and got confused, and finally decided that it was some random book that I had never read before.

I remembered that Red Leader was still standing in the hallway and I called him over to meet Beksahn and get up onto the bed with us to talk, but unfortunately the dream ended shortly after so I have no clue what we talked about. Whatever it was, it was interesting and hilarious because the three of us were involved.




At the very tail end of the dream, I was getting changed for work in my high school friend Miles’ house, and the bathroom door did not lock. (One of my least favorite situations in the world.) I was trying to put on this v-neck soccer-jersey-looking long-sleeve shirt that was black and orange, and directly over the breast pocket had the word "PUBES" written in bright orange. I never managed to successfully dress myself in the "PUBES" shirt, but at one point I had six or seven layers of clothing on my body and Miles walked in and commented on how big my clothing was. I guess it was supposed to be a compliment.

Cool. Cool, cool, cool.

My dream last night featured the cast of Community. The real question here: Sad or Meta?

I distinctly remember seeing every character from the study group except for Shirley. Which I'm pretty okay with, she isn't my favorite. Also check out this crazy awesome fan art that I found on Google images.

So I was kind of just thrown into this ridiculous adventure with almost no introduction or explanation, but as events unfolded I began to grasp the concept of what was going on.

The cast of community were all just hanging out and being normal, little did they know that their lives were actually being used to power the earth, Matrix-style. Since my dreams tend not to be as well-thought-out as the Matrix, there were two of each character - one who lived and functioned normally, and one that was kept in a facility that drew out it's life energy over time and used it to power everyday things, specifically to my dream, a zoo. (Do zoos need that much electricity? Probably. I've never worked at one, how can I judge.)

While in The Matrix, there is only one physical body and the mind lives in the Matrix, in my dream there were two physical bodies, as previously mentioned. The dream was taking place in a sort of split-screen, jumping back and forth to following the real study group and following the drugged-looking-crusty-zombie versions of the characters, who were in the middle of attempting an escape from the power facility.

They were not doing very well. Crusty Abed, Pierce, and Troy had a plan to paint human-colored makeup over their weird yellow-y faces to try and pass for normal and walk out of the facility casually.

Abed was really unconvincing, Troy painted his face bright blue, and they did a bit where Chevy Chase actually looked more lively as a crusty zombie than as a normal human.

The way they finally ended up escaping was that the normal study group realized that their crusty yellow counterparts were attempting an escape. With some prompting from Abed, they decided to intervene. Abed and Britta got jobs at the power facility pretended they were helping the people who worked there re-capture the loose Crusties. As Abed ran through the main gate in (supposed pursuit) of a Crusty, he unlatched and then re-latched the gate, although what the audience (me) and Abed both knew was that Abed had only pretended to re-latch the gate. It stayed cracked a millimeter or two.

The Crusties didn't have much time, and they began trying to escape. It was going well until Jeff and Annie began to freeze, legitimate icicles began forming on them, and they spent the rest of the dream, (which wasn't much) falling over each other and trying to ram their stiff, frozen bodies through the gate to freedom.


ALSO


Throughout the entire dream, I had "The Most Wonderful Thing About Tiggers" stuck in my head. (Probably because last time I was at Red Leader's house, he sang it while going down the stairs and it was probably the cutest thing I've ever seen.)


Anyway,

Six seasons and a movie!

Eternal Wandering of the Unconscious Mind

The dream opened on myself and a young, bald guy sitting in chairs next to each other, across from what was very obviously some sort of shrink or psychiatrist. The bald guy looked like his head had been colored in with pencil. The therapist was talking about how the memory wipe that was apparently being performed on the young man was nearly complete. I recalled that the memory wipe was to erase the recollection of the tragic death of our mother and sister - this guy was apparently my brother. Also, I knew that I had already had the procedure done as I could neither conjure up an image of the mother and sister or their untimely deaths.

It seemed that after having the memory wipe done on myself, I was suddenly adamantly against my brother having the procedure finished. I barely had a chance to express my opinion before, apparently, the wipe was complete.

We sat there for a couple more minutes, me stewing in my defeat, my brother staring off into space with a general look of confusion, and the therapist being annoying and therapist-y, until without warning, my brother suddenly freaked the hell out.

Something had gone wrong with the memory wipe and all of the gruesome/painful memories had come crashing back into his head at once. He leaped to his feet and in a fit of crazed emotion, sprinted out of the room.

I followed him outside, where it was in the depths of winter. My brother was decked out in skiing garb and skis and holding ski poles in his hands. As soon as I got a good look at the situation, he turned and took off down a snowy, sparsely wooded hill. I took off after him on my own set of skis.

We shot down the hill and I managed to overtake him with the intention of stopping both of us so I could reason with him or at least calm him down. However, we found ourselves skidding across a frozen lake at the bottom of the hill instead. I was keeping my balance out of pure luck, and I even thought for a moment that I might make it across the lake in one piece.

Of course, that would be far too boring.

As I sped across the ice, I looked up and saw, directly in front of me, a polar bear. Out of self-preservation more than anything, I swerved as hard as I could to the right and my skis cut into the ice and created a hole in the lake. I just managed to maintain enough momentum to keep from falling into the hole. Unfortunately, my brother was still right behind me, and I turned around just in time to see him drop into the freezing lake in a spray of ice and snow.

I threw down my ski poles reflexively and began grasping for my brother's hands to rescue him. As we tried to reach out to each other, we both began freezing into giant, immobile blocks of rock and ice. My hand became a giant, frozen chunk of ice, and I could barely move. My brother was slowly being encased in a thick layer of ice too, and I could see his lips moving - he was speaking to me as he froze and sank into the water. I strained desperately with every muscle in my body to reach his giant chunk-of-ice-hand, but all I could do was watch helplessly while he moved slower and slower until he stopped moving altogether. Shortly after that, I lost consciousness.

When I woke up, my ice had melted and I was completely alone, leaning against a stone wall. Neither the lake nor my brother's body were anywhere in sight. I was a disgusting, bloody mess, very aware that I was seriously injured but running on enough adrenaline and shock that the pain hadn't hit me yet.

I looked down and saw that I was in a hot pink pantsuit and I was holding a trumpet. In a weird sort of hazy delirium, I took the trumpet and ran down the nearest street until I stumbled across a jazz club. I burst inside and invited myself up onto the stage with the combo that was playing and took the opportunity to play a long, squealing, ridiculous trumpet solo, at the end of which everyone just kind of stared at me with their mouths hanging open. Not quite sure if their shock was a horrified shock or an impressed shock, I didn't wait around to find out but instead ran back out of the club.

That's when I woke up.


Also, side note, only because I mentioned it in the last post, Red Leader has been rescued from the Empire's clutches. Long live the Rebel Alliance.

Unfortunate Hernia Premonition

The night before last I had this horrible dream. Red Leader and I had had a tense moment before I went to bed and he was acting strangely.

In the dream, I was being prepped for my upcoming hernia surgery and Red Leader was the surgical intern who was scrubbing in with Dr. Schroeder. He was acting weird in the dream, too, and I was really concerned. I kept asking him what was wrong and he kept saying it "wasn't a good time to talk about it," which was pretty true because I was lying on an operating table. But I couldn't take the suspense and I finally demanded him to tell me what was going on. Just as I was losing consciousness, he leaned over and told me that he was breaking up with me.

I spent the rest of the dream watching Dr. Schroeder cut through layers of my forearm for no apparent reason, since my hernia is inguinal.

Regardless of Red Leader's not-so-reassuring reassurance that he was "not going to break up with me right before my hernia surgery," his x-wing was unfortunately shot down by an imperial star destroyer roughly 12 hours after the premonition. That's all I'd like to say about the matter.

Red Leader makes a second appearance.

This dream began with several people, including my friend Andrew whom I haven't seen in a very long time, walking in on me while I was in the bath. Fortunately for me, I was also wearing underwear whilst in the bath. Unfortunately for me, both articles of underwear were white so they were pretty much pointless.

Andrew and my other friends (including Anna, I believe) all waved amicably and didn't seem too uncomfortable about me being wet and mostly nude. While the interruption was rather surprising, I decided to go with it and got out of the tub, put on clothes, and started hanging out with the bathroom intruders.

What started out as three or four friends quickly escalated into a full-blown party, which then eventually changed venues to somewhere far cooler than my house - some sort of party venue that from what I could see at this point included a couch/sitting area with weird decorations and a small roller coaster that went around the whole place and pretty much defied the laws of physics the entire way.

Once we made the transition from my house to the party venue, I wandered over to the sitting area and engaged in conversation with a random chick I went to high school with (and talked to about twice total) named Portia. Not only was I never even acquaintances with Portia in high school, at first glance I would not choose to talk to her. (She's one of those women who take five hours to "put on their face" every morning. I would personally go for the most interesting looking person in the area.) Nevertheless, we ended up in close proximity as I was watching the decorations around the couch. Credit to Books of Adam (www.booksofadam.com) for the Facebook Girls cartoon.

The decorations were a bunch of random shit hanging from the ceiling, including some tiki heads and a Buddha-looking guy and other things you might find at a flea market. Then there were these colored disco lights shining on the hanging things and they were moving around like a mobile.

I said something like, "This would be so cool to look at when you're high." Which is what got Portia's attention, and she said something about the best place to get good weed nearby, to which I just nodded and pretended I knew what the hell she was talking about because let's be honest here, I've never even seen weed.

After that completely faked conversation (on my end, at least) I ventured over to the roller-coaster and got on. The cars looked like wooden park benches. The ride started and, though very confusing, was disappointingly tame. Apparently Portia had followed me on because I once again began talking to her about pot, stating that all I really want to do is spike someone's food with it and watch the hilarious aftermath.

The strange part here is that I then turned around to see Red Leader* in the seat behind me, and he told me that in retaliation to my marijuana-food-spiking, he would "slip a tiny ring into my food so that someday when I have his child, it will be born wearing a monocle."

I'm not making this up. It was so specific.

Then I answered with something really extreme and graphic like, "I think I'd shoot myself in the stomach" (I have that aversion to pregnancy) and then went on to continue digging a hole of crazy for myself by pondering the effectiveness of stomach-shooting as a form of suicide, which turned into contemplating suicide aloud which is generally frowned upon, although Dream Grace DID make a good point in that shooting yourself in the stomach a) Could end up not killing you and b) Would be very messy either way.

Then we all got off the ride and went to play laser tag. But I woke up before we got there, which was disappointing because I really wanted to play laser tag.

Anyway, moral of the story, my sub-conscious dealt with so very many issues last night including (but not limited to) my own naked body, illegal drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, insecurities about a new relationship, suicide-slash-contemplating-suicide, and along with that, the shame associated with admitting that I struggle with those things. All in all a busy night for my brain.

*Red Leader is the previously mentioned love interest with whom I was not sure things were going to work out, but they actually turned out great and I'm pretty damn happy. I mentioned the boyfriend-blog-nickname-dilemma to him and since we're both die-hard Star Wars nerds and he likes to pretend his car is an x-wing, he dubbed himself Red Leader, which is way better than anything I would have come up with.

I'm not good at discretion.

I'm sorry if this is blatantly weird.

There's this dude who's coming over to hang out with me soon. And I had a ridiculous dream the other night, with one short little cameo from him that was incredible. I don't really have time to post the whole dream at this point, but I wanted to post this part in case things don't work out, because I would probably be too pissy and self-involved to put it up if that should happen.

Also I can't think of a good nickname for this guy. Everything I come up with sounds like an idiotic code-name that 14-year-old Grace would make up with her friends so she could giggle about her crush without him realizing. So I'm just going to use vague pronouns for now.

I was walking along the street that my subdivision branches off of on one side and that my work branches off of on the other side, on the stretch of sidewalk against the field behind my house. I looked ahead of me and saw a guy with brown hair wearing cargo shorts walking in front of me, and recognized him as the previously mentioned boy.

On an impulse, I ran up behind him and jumped onto his back, wrapping my arms and legs around him like a monkey. He knew it was me and laughed and spun me around a couple times, then flipped me around so I was in the same position on his front-side. (Don't really understand the mechanics of that. Whatever.)

I took his face in my hands and kissed him really slowly, open-mouthed with a little lip-grabbing action. Just one kiss, and a really intense slow pull-away. Then I leaned in again, but hesitated right before our lips touched and just let it build up, exhaling into his mouth softly. That kind of electricity makes me go crazy.

I woke up before the second kiss was ever completed. If I was a dude I'd have had a nice sweatpants-tent going on.

The end.

KIDNAPPED BY DANGER

30 Rock? Anyone? Anyone? Okay, fine.

Well, the dream started out in the best way possible, I was kidnapped by Hitler. (There were several hilarious and very offensive Hitler jokes I could have posted here including a particularly vicious one about Mengele, but I wimped out. Or showed some wise restraint, depending on your point of view.)

I've actually had several dreams with Hitler in them before, i.e. Nazis were searching for my family and I was hiding in my Grandma's bathroom, or the time that my French class was being sorted into groups for a concentration camp. Who can blame me? Hitler's scary as hell.

Anyway, there was no fear-filled pursuit in this dream, I had just already been captured. Along with a group of random family and friends, none of whom I remember specifically, I was herded down a bunch of dark ramps to wherever we were being taken. The strangest part of the whole journey down ramps was that there were several Nazi guards along the way but they were all middle school boys. (They may or may not have been the Chang-Glorious Bastards. I tend to mesh life with television sometimes. JUST LIKE ABED ZOMG.)

I wasn't afraid at this point, I was actually being a huge idiot. I was exaggeratedly goose-stepping down the ramps and barking "HEIL HITLER" at each guard in a dopey voice while making a face and giving a very aggressive "Heil" gesture. At one point someone offered me ice cream and I declined. (Hey, it's my dream. Hitler can give out ice cream if I want him to.)

We finally ended up at the end of the whole ramp-maze, in a large room that was not particularly relevant to the plot at all. The function that the room served, however, was reminiscent of an American airport but with more of a Hitler-y feel to it, people were being searched to the extreme. We're talking random strip searches and unfortunately, the occasional full body cavity search.

Of course, since this was a dream and nudity was involved, I was going to end up nude and uncomfortable at some point. As I stood stoically in the line for searches, the old man in a suit that was going through my line grabbed a guy in front of me, who turned out to be The Todd from Scrubs, and said he was going to strip search him. I thought about how very lucky it was that the one dude who would probably be completely okay with being fully exposed in front of a ton of strangers was the one who had been randomly selected, I believe he may have high-fived either myself or the old man at some point. Since my sub-conscious apparently couldn't rationalize a better way to twist the situation so that I was the one in the nude, so I just magically replaced Todd as the poor bastard who had to strip down.

Once I was completely unclothed, I guess the old man still found me suspicious because he decided to do a cavity search. Just wait, this keeps getting more awkward.

I had to stand with my hands against a wall, pat-down style, and then the old man pulled out this hair-dryer-looking-thing and started shooting air all up in my cavities. Which I suppose is better than his hand/face. But there was a lot of... flapping around of body parts and everyone in line was watching. It was less of an embarrassing situation and more of a shaking-my-head-at-how-ridiculous-this-is-and-laughing-because-I've-stopped-caring.


Fortunately before I could discover the wonders of wherever Hitler was planning on keeping us, (I have an educated guess.) I found myself at a family gathering at my house.

Speaking of my house, it was really really cool in my dream. We had all these random added rooms that we don't actually have and they were painted strange colors and had little reading nooks and I believe there was a cool bathroom somewhere in there, too.

There were a couple brief snippets of something, I'm pretty sure one involved poop (but I did NOT shit myself in my sleep) but the first situation I remember clearly was my mom and I sitting in the living room. We were talking about how and when we should tell my dad's mom, G'ma Leta, that I have tattoos. (Not actually worried about that. At least my awake self isn't.) G'ma Leta is generally a cool lady who takes things in stride, so we weren't stressing out about it, just pondering. However, as we got onto the subject, I realized my mom's mom, G'ma Lois, was sitting behind us and had heard what we were talking about and was both confused and horrified. (She's the one who would get upset, not G'ma Leta.) She was flustered at first and asked me if I got "that awful scar on my arm" tattooed over. (I have a maybe quarter-sized scar on my right upper arm from getting a mole removed. It's not even noticable.) Regardless of how ridiculous that idea was, I seized the opportunity to stay written into her will and reassured her that yes, I had simply tattooed over my horrible scar.

After that exchange, I told my family that a new love interest was going to stop by and visit later, which was met by harsh criticism and judgement by Theresa, an LVT who works with me. I don't know why she was related to me in my dream, but I'm sure as hell glad she isn't in real life. When the love interest showed up, I think we did a pretty effective job of scaring him away, and at the end of the dream he turned into a black cat, who sat on my lap. I said something about him being a cat and my mom said something like, "Oh, thank god she finally realized he's a cat." As if the whole time I'd been hanging out with a cat and having some sort of psychotic episode that the cat was an attractive young man.

I'm going to be finding out shortly if the love interest is actually a cat or not. Fingers crossed.

Grace's Excellent Adventure

There was more to this dream than what I can remember, but regardless of the short length, the concept was intriguing.

I walked into my bedroom and saw my cat, Rosie, as usual. However, things got weird when I saw another cat, then another, then another, until there must have been upwards of twenty cats in my room. It was if they were appearing out of thin air.

It took me a minute to gather my thoughts, understandably, but I soon noticed that every single one of the cats was identical. In fact, they were all identical to Rosie. Small, calico, skittish, et cetera.

Next, an elderly dog appeared before me. He was obviously a brittany spaniel, red and white, but I could tell by the way he moved and by his eyes that he was old, and his fur was long and curly. (Which isn't something that brittany fur does, usually.) He was my dog Chewy, actually, but somehow it was Chewy from the future.

That's when I realized what was going on. The numerous Rosie-s and Chewy-s that were appearing in my bedroom were traveling back in time from the future.

Of course, I was pretty sure that with all of the Rosie-s and Chewy-s bounding around my room, a Future Me was going to show up eventually. And I was right!

Me from the future was generally the same, skinny, anxious, large feet. However, my hair was longer, not quite shoulder-length but not chin-length, either, and it was wild and dry, with the brittle consistency of gray hair, although I'm not sure if there was gray in it or not. It would make sense if there was, but I think that the point of how old I looked was not to emphasize my old age but to emphasize the ways I had aged myself.

Anyway, Future Me was wearing these big, round, wire glasses, Professor Trelawney style, and yet she still didn't appear to be able to see much of anything. Which is really unfortunate, since most of my plans and ambitions kind of depend on the fact that I'm not blind as a bat.

Somehow I was intuitive enough to realize that this bony, crusty, half-blind Future Me was a version of myself that I could have avoided had I lived my life differently. Out-of-control anxiety and constant worrying and fidgeting had made me skeletal, my hair had gone prematurely gray-ish from stress, and I'm assuming I did something that strained my eyes, I don't know what. Probably spent too much time on my laptop.

Anyway, I don't know how this scenario concluded, if and when all of the future Grace/Rosie/Chewy-s got back to their own time, or what exactly the purpose of their time travel was, since I never actually interacted with Future Grace, I just stared at her.

Quick side-bar, I LOVE stories/books/movies about time travel and so does my dad. We're time travel nerds. However, while this dream was kind of awesome regardless of the cautionary tale, it mostly just reminded me of this scene from Family Guy.

Dr. Grace, DVM

When I first became aware of what was going on, I realized that I was in a veterinary hospital. (Not a huge surprise, I'm an assistant at a vet hospital.) It was one of those situations where I knew it was a familiar place but it was a little off.

I was going about my business as usual when my supervisor, Mary, called me into a room I didn't recognize to train me for something new.

When I walked through the door I found Mary, a tiny little dark-haired lady, restraining a giant brown horse.

Which was startling for many reasons, including but not limited to the fact that I work at a SMALL animal hospital, and the fact that I'm a little skittish around horses. For some reason, nervous or easily startled animals tend to make me increasingly nervous and easily startled, which is something I really need to work on because we usually just end up feeding off of one anothers' anxiety until everything falls apart. The difference is that it's usually an animal that is at the most, 80 or so pounds heavier than me. Not a huge horse.

This picture alone freaks me the hell out.




As close a pic as I could find to the one horse I've ever liked - an old, fat, grey Clydesdale mix who never moved faster than a walk and wasn't phased by anything. (I tried horse camp when I was little. Spent my time cleaning stalls and playing with the stable dog to avoid riding.)


So I stood there for a while, hanging around the doorway and not really listening to anything Mary was saying.

Luckily for me, one of the Dr.s poked his head in and said he needed me in treatment.

When I walked through the double doors into treatment, I was met with an even more startling sight. There were human patients everywhere, on stretchers or operating tables and the like.

I quickly asked a fellow employee what was going on. He looked at me like I was crazy, and reminded me that when there isn't enough room in the people hospital, the veterinary hospital takes on the patient overflow and does the needed treatments and operations. Then one of the techs asked me to operate on a human patient, and I made a second realization, that apparently I was a vet med student already. (Right now I'm just the veterinary version of an orderly.)



I knew that I was a vet med student and I knew how to operate on animals, but I had all the knowledge of my real-life self, which is almost none. Thus, while a request to operate on an animal would've scared me shitless, the fact that it was now a human life was so much more nerve-wracking. (Not that I don't value animal lives. I do.)

I stood there like an idiot for a couple minutes, looking around to try and find another vet student who could assure me that I wasn't a huge loser, that it was a legitimately crazy situation.

Of course, the first person I found was Napoleon*, in surgery scrubs, in the middle of an operation on a human patient's forehead.

I gave him an inquiring glance, and may have said something like, "What's going on?"

He smiled sheepishly and shrugged and said, "I'm just going with it."

That was all I got from him. Around the time I was waking up, I think I had decided to go ahead and operate. God help whatever poor soul was going under my knife.



*My new name for the dude previously known as "Ex-Boyfriend," since I no longer consider it relevant that we once dated.

Grace vs. the Soul Mate

I was on the toilet at my house, the one by the front door, and right when I was mid-poop my grandpa Jim walked in on me. I did the usual "Oh my god! Get out! Grandpa!" and he bumbled around for an awkwardly long time trying to get his bearings and leave me to defecate in peace.



The occasion that had merited the presence of my grandfather in my home in the first place was, from what I could tell, some sort of family-gathering-type get-together with a grad-party kind of vibe that implied the inclusion friends of the extended family.

Anyway, in classic Grace style, after a couple hours I got bored silly/annoyed/restless and went down to the basement to look around. We were no longer in my house. We didn't switch locations, it just slowly turned into the house of someone else in our family-friend-circle. Specifically, the basement looked just like my friend from high school Rachel-the-Mellophone-Player's basement. To be brief - one large room with a few couches, some random exercise equipment, a television, lots of open space. Several other rooms with closed doors branch off of the large one, including (in Rachel's house, at least) a bathroom, a storage room, and a bedroom which one of her family members always seemed to be sleeping in so we had to be quiet.

Anyway, I snuck down to said basement hoping to entertain myself, and it was dim and shadowy with the exception of light shining from underneath the crack of the bedroom door. I wandered around the four or five square feet at the base of the stairway, not wanting to go sit on a couch in the dark and not wanting to admit to myself that I wanted to go peek into the occupied room.

After some squinting and precariously leaning forward, I finally figured out (regardless of my horrific night vision) that the door was also slightly cracked open.


Keira-Knightley-Pride-and-Prejudice-style, I crept up and peeked into the door crack, under the mistaken impression that I was being inconspicuous. I saw pretty much exactly what I'm always hoping to see when I peek into a room, the bare back and jean-clad butt of a tall, attractive dude with a mop of curly brown hair. Of course, inevitably, he turned within seconds and saw half of a face creepily watching him through his door.

I'm assuming there was some exclamation from both of us, a door either tentatively opened or thrown open, depending on who took the initiative, followed by some hasty explaining on my part that was probably mostly babbling and over-sharing, because I was very true-to-life in this dream. However, I don't clearly remember that awkward moment.

What I do remember is that the guy was pretty much Zach Levi, who is admittedly one of my rare celebrity crushes. He seemed taller and skinnier, which is totally my style, as well as significantly younger - around my age, I'd guess. (I'm getting ahead of myself, but as the dream progressed he seemed to begin looking rather Sacha Baron-Cohen-y. Which, again, is totally cool with me.)

Getting back to the current point, my Zach-Levi-look-alike - whom I'm going to refer to as Henry because I can imagine myself falling in love with a man named Henry although I do not actually remember what his name was in the dream - seemed completely un-freaked-out that I had been peeking into his room, in fact, he told me that he could absolutely relate to my ever-present urge to sneak out of parties and search for adventure elsewhere.
He was really friendly, and had this great honest, eager smile. Like Chuck from "Chuck." Which is great because Chuck from "Chuck" and I would be an awesome couple.

Anyway, the level of attraction was high on both ends. Since my automatic flirtation method (a nerd mating call, if you will) is sarcastic humor laced with geeky sci-fi references and goofy faces, (okay, so it's just me being normal) the chance is usually slim that the victim of my flirtation will respond positively. Luckily for me, Henry found my silliness and blatant honesty refreshing. We connected immediately and spent the rest of the party sitting on his bed together, getting to know each other and making each other laugh. Henry genuinely wanted to know more about me, I could tell. I'm not used to that. It was wonderful.

At some point during our flirtatious conversation I must have mentioned that I was a marching band enthusiast because Henry invited me to an event at which the marching band he was a member of was performing.


Thus, the next thing I remember was arriving at an outdoor concert. The uniforms were pushing my limit of finding marching unis sexy, they were pea green with red detailing and had those horrible coats that were belted at the waist and then had more material underneath the belt, threatening to look like a skirt but being just short enough not to. Now, as a rule, I am the most attracted to my significant others when they are in marching band uniforms, and I like to think that this was a test of my love, both for the article of clothing and for the man in question. And thankfully, I remained true to both - Henry was considerably more appealing to me in his awkwardly-belted green uniform. It got even better, he was playing a tuba.

Sidebar - it's true I have a romantic history with a tuba player. However, I found men who play brass instruments sexy long before Ex-Boyfriend's time.

Back on track, Henry was playing a tuba that was not quite a sousaphone because it wasn't physically around him, but it wasn't a concert or marching tuba either. He was holding it like a concert, but it looked like some sort of mutant sousaphone. It may or may not have been an instrument from a Dr. Seuss book. Regardless, I was instantly hooked and got a good position slightly behind Henry so I could hear how he sounded.

He was actually pretty awful. I know what a well-handled tuba sounds like... he was sloppy and sounded like what poorly informed people THINK tubas sound like. To the Grace of the past, this could've been an issue. Could I love a man who doesn't take pride in the pursuit of musical perfection? However, Dream Grace (and Current Grace too) didn't give it a second thought. I recognized that he was playing poorly, acknowledged that he was aware of his mediochrity and was still having a lot of fun, and loved him for it.



He did have one saving grace. The band was gathering to walk back to their bus and everyone was goofing around and yelling and playing, all of the things I would probably have screamed at my high school band for doing and then after five minutes or so just given up and let it happen, but in this situation, being solely a spectator and not a drum major, I just stood there and soaked up the residual happiness. Henry had switched instruments with a saxophone player, and as I watched from a distance, briefly played something impressive and appealing, just to show off. Which is a habit that I usually find incredibly irritating. But I was rather relieved to discover that he was not quite as musically challenged as I had originally assumed. (I want to clarify quickly - the impressive music in question was not impressive because of a ridiculous amount of notes crammed into a brief amount of time, it was the tone and the lilting, ear-catching style that he played with. It sounded effortless - that's what was so cool.)

When they were ready to walk back, Henry was wearing the sousaphone, which was now actually real-looking, and his red beret. He saw me and waved me over, then pretty much stopped my heart by taking my hand and not letting go as we walked together.

As we were walking, I said to him, "I know that it's not something I should mention in a new relationship, but I just find it kind of funny that you play the sousaphone because my first boyfriend was a tuba player." Of course, being perfect, Henry did not care at all that I had brought up an ex, and found the anecdote interesting rather than intimidating. We continued chatting and giggling until I heard a voice behind me that was strangely familiar, so I looked over my shoulder to see - who else - Ex-Boyfriend walking behind us with an identical sousaphone and uniform. We made eye contact but didn't say anything, and turning back around I realized that Henry and Ex-Boyfriend were at least acquaintances, if not friends. I decided not to tell Henry that the tuba player in question was one of his peers, and that was the end of the matter. We got back to the trailer and Henry put his tuba into its case alongside Annette, the tuba player from my old high school. Apparently she had been subbing for someone, playing 2nd part to Henry's 1st. (If they had both been regular band members she would have been on first part, she's talented.)

At some point between this rendezvous and the next, Henry and I hung out and I found out several more things about him - he was a virgin, (Hey, nothing wrong with that.) he was christian, (another thing that past Grace may have gotten hung up on, my religious opinions are, to say the least, multiple and unorthodox.) and I distinctly remember him telling me he wanted me to "de-virginize him," which is really dorky and absolutely something I would say.


Now towards the end of this dream, the location of Henry's home became clearer to me. I was in the car with my mom and brother, driving down one of the streets in my grandmother's neighborhood in Midland, MI. It seemed that Henry lived in the same neighborhood as she did. I stared out the window at the Dow-designed houses we drove past until we pulled up to this flat-roofed, olive green house that for some reason looked like it was made out of felt.

I knew it was Henry's house. We were just stopping at the end of the driveway so my mom could run in and drop something off for his parents. I was very true to myself in that I had a long internal debate about whether or not I should take the opportunity to see Henry, fearing that it was too soon since I last saw him and I didn't want to come off as needy, clingy, et cetera. I finally decided to get out of the car so I didn't look like I was hiding, but I didn't go actively looking for Henry.

And then the most wonderful thing happened.

Henry walked out of his front door and headed towards his pick-up truck. His normally wild curly hair was slicked back for work and he was wearing a dark blue work shirt, which I can't remember clearly but I believe was a button-down with rolled-up sleeves. Now I don't normally find slicked-back hair attractive at all, I'm very much a wild curls kinda gal, but now that Henry was about 70% Zach Levi and 30% Sacha Baron-Cohen, he actually looked really, really good that way, with the darker complexion and more angled eyebrows.

Before I could stop myself, I called his name and waved, expecting him to be creeped out that I was at his house, second-guessing myself with every syllable. (The usual.)

When he saw me, his face lit up in the most amazing smile - just this completely, truly happy and honest smile. Like I was the person he most wanted to see right at that moment. Like I had made him so happy just by being me. It was the best feeling in the world.

All insecurities forgotten, I smiled back as he ran down the asphalt driveway and grabbed me in a tight hug followed by a heart-melting kiss.

We lost our balance and fell sideways, giggling madly, onto the green grass. He rolled over so that I was lying on my back on the cool grass and he was bracing himself above me, his palms on the lawn on either side of my head.

He leaned down and kissed me, then let his body weight settle onto me so that the pressure was practically just short of orgasmic. My legs were slightly spread in a way that his hips and pelvis were pressing against my crotch in the absolute most pleasing way so that I got those instant stomach-butterflies.


That's where we stayed, on the lawn, in love, completely entwined, and I awoke deliriously happy.

Grace Becomes Saint-Like

The dream began back at college. (At the time of the dream that was approximately 2 months ago, now that I'm finally posting this it's been 5 months and I no longer have dreams about college.)

I was already planning on dropping out at this point, and I was looking for the right time to tell my good friends other than my wonderful college husband, Jordan.

Jordan and I went to a party at one of our friends' houses that doesn't actually exist in real life. It was a cute little house in a neighborhood full of very small houses. We knew all six or seven people at the party, which included Jessie, Corey (the previously mentioned drum major), and a couple other guys we knew.

I don't remember consuming any alcohol at the party, but I got silly and crazy really quickly, and no one else really did. (I don't drink. But if I did, I think I'd be like this guy except without the DUI.)



After stumbling around and looking for the bathroom so I could pee on several different occasions, and making a brief stop in the kitchen, I got my hands on a kitchen knife.


In my inebriated state I somehow managed to cut my own ear off. It didn't really seem like a big deal and I didn't feel anything. But afterwards I had my ear in my hand (no blood was shed, apparently) and I was back with the other party members. They were kind of shaking their heads at me as if I had done some stupid drunken thing like dance on a table or moon someone, when in actuality a part of my body had been severed and was in my hand.

Eventually I got up and left. There was never any fuss about the severed ear. And the main reason I wanted to blog this dream was so I could make the Harry Potter reference in the title.

Return from Dream Hiatus with Kick-Ass Dream

Well, it wasn't a dream hiatus. It was a blog hiatus. But the dream I had last night was so fucking cool, I couldn't not write it down. And after I had written it down it seemed silly not to blog it.

I am very comfortable in my heterosexual androgynous-ness, so being a guy in a dream doesn't scare me. That being said, I was a guy in this dream.

I believe I was bald. I was average guy height, thin but not particularly muscular. I distinctly remember that I was wearing a grey hoodie and khaki pants. My face was broad, and rather interesting. My eyes were wide set and piercing, a long straight nose, and a wide, serious mouth.

The weirdest part was that my skin was not my normal beige-tan-ish color, or any other normal skin color for that matter. My whole body looked like a circuit board - dark green with intricate gold and silver lines and dots. (I'm not really sure how else to describe a circuit board.)



The main premise of the dream was that I had recently discovered that I had the power of telekinesis and was in some sort of group of do-gooders with superpowers. (Not necessarily superheroes or spies or demi-gods or anything, I'm not sure what they were.) Anyway, my telekinesis was rather weak but in typical protagonist-chosen-one style, I was told that I was destined to have incredible abilities. The only question was when the powers would hit me. In the meantime I was doing some sort of training and ended up getting sent on a mission to an enemy base, which is where the dream really started. (I somehow already knew the background info.)

My guardians/mentors/what-have-you sent me off to the base in what appeared to be a hot air balloon, although that's not at all relevant to the story. I was supposedly new enough that I could pretend to be a member of the enemy team without being recognized, assuming I kept a low profile and stayed alert. My job was to get to the roof, there was something I was supposed to retrieve from there. My mentors gave me a card with a fake identity and facts written on it for me to use if people asked who I was. As far as I know there were only two people who would know who I was, an attractive blonde girl and boy who were members of the enemy team.

I arrived at the base and walked in casually, my hood up to shadow my face, which would give me away before anything else. On my way up the first floor, I inexplicably saw my first boyfriend's older brother. I do not know what he was doing there.

I managed to run into both blonde kids on my way up the levels, and while I faked my way out of the run-in with the girl, it was a narrow escape with the boy. I knew that I needed to start moving faster, I was definitely on their radars. It appeared that one of my many talents was the uncanny ability to keep a straight face in any situation.

Shortly after that point, my cover began to unravel. Word got around that I was not one of them, and a couple of them referred to me as "Number 5," as if I was a significant threat that had been predicted.

It became more of an undercover thing and less of a casual thing, and there was a large group of the enemies heading towards me at one point, so I went into a nearby laundry room. Attempting to camouflage myself, I lay face-down on the tile behind the washing machine and dryer.

As I've said before, I'm not one to censor my dreams. Because honestly, they're more interesting un-censored. So if you'd prefer not to traumatize your innocent mind, just skip this next paragraph.

While I was lying there on the ground, these two girls clad only in underwear showed up. I believe one was a red-head and one was African-American. They both came over to me and lay down on either side of me. They were apparently looking for sex from me, the strange-looking guy lying on his face in a laundry room. However, the enemy group would be less likely to notice me if I had two nearly-nude women covering me, so I just went along with it. Unfortunately for me, they turned out to be really gross girls. One of the girls was wearing an ill-fitting bra and her nipples were both exposed and were really, really grossing me out. Then one of them tried to get me to finger her, and rather than explain that I was actually a heterosexual woman having a dream and I would not find that pleasurable, I just told her to do it herself, which she did and it was horrifying. I don't know if I decided I'd rather risk great personal harm than spend any more time with two gross, horny women, but I ended up outside the laundry room, continuing my trek up to the roof even though the danger was significantly greater now.

Of course, inevitably, a whole group of enemies came stampeding over and after one of the blonde kids confirmed in a yell: "He's Number 5!" they attacked me, and I had no defense strong enough to fight them off.

They dragged me up to the roof, ironically where I'd been heading anyway, but then they attached me to a large wooden plus sign so that it was impossible for me to move and I was left to hang there helplessly. (It was not a cross, so don't go reading way too much into that. It was a plus sign. And I'm not sure if I was nailed to it or not, I was stuck, that's all I know.)

The group of enemies left me there helpless and alone, going back down into their base. But all of a sudden, I felt a rumble below me as if something was building up around me. The rumble quickly escalated into a whirlwind with me in the center. I could feel myself changing, becoming the "Chosen One" I was destined to be.

I yanked my hands towards each other, splitting the wooden plus in half easily. The whirlwind was still in full blast. The enemy team began running back up onto the roof, but they were no match for me. As I dropped the pieces of the plus behind me and turned to face them, I knew that what was supposed to happen had happened and I was more powerful than anyone had expected - the crowd of people didn't scare me in the least. I felt superhuman. Beyond human. Like a god. It was breathtaking.


Like this but not evil. I just really, really wanted to make a Star Wars reference.

And that's how I woke up, in the middle of that incredible rush. It was a really, really good day.

My darling Mr. Laurie

This dream is from approximately a month and a half ago, it's just a coincidence that the show "House" comes up in two posts in a row.

Dr. House and I are in love. This is something that I already know as the dream unfolds.

I find myself wandering aimlessly around Midland, MI (where I lived for about 2 weeks in college) see a couple zebras in someone's front yard garden-island-thing. As I go over and pet it, I think about how I’m slowly fulfilling my deep-rooted desire for adventure. There are also these little blue things - I have no idea what they are, but I know enough about them to recognize that they don't belong in Michigan.

Suddenly it’s not Midland anymore, it’s Los Angeles and I’m going around to swanky celebrity house parties. I go to one with a pool at my old anatomy teacher’s house because apparently she’s a celebrity now and I see House (specifically House, not Hugh Laurie) there and flirt, but we both sort of know it probably isn’t a good idea. The whole time I'm feeling the hesitation, I'm also feeling this incredible lust that I'd never felt in a dream before. (I had this dream prior to the milestone first sex dream.)

I go up onto the big wooden deck and start dancing with some other people, trying not to think about House too much. This girl I'm dancing with suddenly stops and accusing me of poking her with a pencil. I laugh it off, but a couple seconds later she accuses me once again. House comes over and together we figure out that the dancing girl has a scorpion living inside her body, stinging her from the inside. (Apparently I'm also a diagnostician.)

The next thing I know, we’re in the fellowship hall of my old church with a combination of the marching band from "The Music Man" and the costumes from the Baron's birthday party scene in "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang," and he’s Dick Van Dyke (who is my ultimate celebrity crush) as Caractacus Potts dressed as the puppet man from the afore-mentioned scene, but also kind of Robert Preston from Music Man. In short, he’s my dream guy. I find myself in a marching band uniform, so I go ahead and join the marching band with my piccolo and no music.

We have a piccolo feature in the music we're playing, which turns out to be the bad-ass solo from "Fire Up!" that I played in the CMU Symphonic Wind Ensemble. (Really well, I might add. And I'm allowed to be conceited because I don't play anymore.) Unfortunately, this time around I did horribly and dragged everyone down, and then farther into the feature there was that high trilling part from "Stars and Stripes Forever" and Quinn Fabray from Glee was the only one allowed to do it but she wasn’t loud enough so I decided to take over, but all I got was a cracked note and an embarrassing lip fart and House was right there and heard how bad it was.

I was mortified and tried to tell the piccolo players next to me that I used to be a flute performance major (because I was) but I just hadn’t played in months.

Afterwards, the piccolos were the first section who got to break attention and get cookies so I grabbed a plate and found my brother and his obnoxious friend Joel. They wanted to play cards and I was feeling lonely, desperate,http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif fahttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifilure-y, so I said I’d go find some cards in my purse. And as I was pulling a handful of loose cards out of my brown purse in the dream, my cat jumped on my feet and started biting them in real life so I woke up.

I never got to be intimate with Hugh Laurie/Dick Van Dyke/Robert Preston/Caractacus Potts/Harold Hill, much to my dismay. Whether it was the inappropriate age difference or the dismal piccolo skills that drove us apart, I don't know. Either way it was disappointing.

In conclusion, here's my favorite scene from any movie in the world ever.

College, Glass Eyes, and a Disastrous Wedding

As much as I'd like to continue playing Sims and watching "Friends" reruns all day, this dream was too weird to let myself forget.

The first part I remember is that I had driven to CMU to surprise my best friend Jordan. (Pictured along with me in the collage at right.)

I had inexplicably taken with me my high school friend Erin, whom I haven't seen since her grad party, so it's kind of strange that I took her in particular. I don't think she even knows anyone at CMU, she was just with me.

I distinctly remember that she was wearing a black pea-coat and her glasses. Her hair was chin-length, like it was senior year. I was wearing something red, maybe red pants or a red skirt, I vaguely remember a red hat, possibly a beret. I know the only three colors I was wearing were black, white, and red.

When the dream started, we were walking down the first length of the dorm hallway, and I wasn't as anxious as I truly would be were I in the dorms again. I was actually feeling very beautiful, something I usually don't feel in my dreams. (I tend to feel awkward and gross instead.) It may be because I've recently dropped approx. 15 pounds that I've been trying to lose since 2010.

In the hallway, milling around, were people that I very vaguely recognized, as well as a few who I didn't recognize at all, and several of which I didn't recall living in my hallway.

At the corner where I would normally turn to get to my old dorm room/Jordan's dorm, there was a little group of people sitting on the floor. They were some people who I knew I should remember from college but couldn't quite place, and I sat down on the floor to hang out with them. They seemed okay with having me there, not happy that I was back but not upset, either. (I don't blame them for not being happy, I honestly wouldn't have liked me very much in college. Actually, I didn't like me very much in college. Which I thought was a result of other people not liking me, but I'm honestly not sure.)

As I was sitting there, Jordan walked out of his room and down the hall. As he passed us I turned and got his attention. We were both so happy to see each other! It was a great feeling.

I didn't stay for very long. On my way out with Erin, I looked over my shoulder and saw my ex-roommates standing in the hall behind me. They hadn't seen me and I intended to keep it that way, but I whispered to Erin to turn around to see my former evil suite-mates and non-evil roommate. After she had gotten a good look, we left the hallway and the dream changed location quickly.


I'm in my old church. (I wrote this middle section in present tense and I don't know why, but I'm too lazy to go back and change it so you're just going to have to deal.)
(My old church is a common setting for my dreams because I basically grew up there. While I no longer identify or necessarily agree with Christianity, it's still a familiar place.)

I'm standing in a line, wearing a short, dark blue dress and holding flowers. I look around, confused. There are two lines of people with some others scattered around us, and we're directly outside the sanctuary. Farther behind us is a bride. I'm pretty sure she was a girl I knew from when I used to go to church, Julianne.

The two lines of people are pairing off and walking down the aisle. I realize I'm a bridesmaid. I look to my right to see who I'm walking down the aisle with, and see an old woman instead of the expected groomsman. (She's also a member of the church, I remember her face but not her name.) We link arms and walk forward, but we have done something wrong and have to go back and try again.

After several attempts at walking slowly down an aisle holding flowers and not a single success, my location abruptly changes once again. The wedding is gone, I'm instead in a hospital room sitting up on a hospital bed. In a hospital gown, IV in my arm.



I'm talking to my mom and reminiscing about the other times I've been in the hospital. (There have been a few in real life, but these were all purely fictional.) I had three male roommates both times I had been there before, all people I knew from church as well. (Don't know why that's been weighing on my mind so much lately.) I could recall all of them in the dream, although after having woken up I only remember Mike, a big creepy bald guy, Ryan and another Mike, brothers who are 3 or 4 years older than me, and Andy, another slightly older guy.

I was laughing and joking and being sarcastic, as I tend to be in difficult situations when I'm trying to make other people feel better. I said a few graphically descriptive/my-idea-of-funny things that were reminiscent of my two real-life bouts of food poisoning, both of which were graphic and now-kind-of-funny themselves.

After talking for a while I decided I was bored and wanted to borrow the box set of "House" DVDs that the youth group at the old church has. (Again with the church. Also, they don't actually have "House" DVDs, but I really love that show.) I guess the hospital was kind of close to there.

My mom went out and got the DVDs for me. When she came back, I looked through the set and realized that there were only three or four DVDs in the box that were actually "House." The rest were installments of a really creepy series of religious children's shows, which my brain made up and which I will now describe. (After reading through all of the following text again, I can see myself sub-consciously struggling with the religious values I was raised with and my opinion of those who still uphold them.)

The main character of the show was a girl who looked to be around 10 or 11 in the earlier shows and 17-ish in the newer ones. She looked like she was mixed race, with medium-length dark-brown hair, a caramel-colored complexion, and kind of a smokey pallor. On the cover of the first few DVDs, she looked pretty much normal. However, at about the third or fourth DVD, her picture had one distinct, fairly disturbing difference. She suddenly had one real eye and one glass eye. The glass eye, her left eye, fit her socket quite poorly, and seemed significantly larger and bulgier than the real eye, giving her a rather frightening expression whether she was smiling or frowning. I flipped through the DVD covers, looking at the strange photos of her and her replacement left eye and pondering what could have happened to her that would've caused the loss of one of her eyes. In one of the pictures, she's holding the eye directly in front of the socket and looking at a book as if the glass eye is necessary to see the book. In all of them she is smiling, as if nothing about her is out of the ordinary and she is perfectly carefree. The façade is so fake that it is uncomfortable to look at. Her still-living eye is emotionless, as if she has been brainwashed.

I put one of the DVDs into my laptop and start watching a random scene. The girl is just as disturbing on video as she is in pictures. She is in everyday situations, acting cheerful and singing songs about Christianity, but her smile is forced and her eyes are dead. The ill-fitting glass eye is hardly as frightening as her obvious underlying pain, her robotic, even zombie-like dialogue and warbled songs of praise that couldn't have sounded less sincere if I had sung them.

The scariest part of the whole TV series is the fact that is was actually popular. Kids actually watched these and believed that this girl was happy and the way she acted is the way they should act. I was afraid that I was the only one who could see the soulless-ness about her.

Then I woke up.