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.

A Very Curly Interruption

Okay, some background info is required to facilitate better understanding of this dream. Think of it as information given in the spirit of Valentine's Day. (Which was actually really fun this year, even without a Valentine. And I'm not just saying that to sound happy so that people will like me more.)

I've "officially" dated 3 guys in my short lifetime. There tends to be one distinct trend between them - curly hair. It's my ultimate weakness. Ex-Boyfriend, (the original Boyfriend) had curly, blonde, Napoleon Dynamite-esque hair. Prom Date Boyfriend was black, and while his hair was pretty short when we were dating, it still did it for me. Then third boyfriend, my summer fling, whom I believe I've referred to in the past as "Curly," has, as my nickname may suggest, deliciously curly brown hair. (There was also a kissing incident with a carnival worker last summer who had curly black hair, but that stays off the record.)

Now that you have what I'm sure is far more background information than is truly relevant to the dream, here goes.

While this dream was rather crazy and focused more on my general insanity than anything else, for some unknown reason it was centered around my most recent ex, Curly. I don't harbor any resentments towards any of my exes, but they tend to occasionally pop up in my dreams. It may have something to do with the fact that I found an actor in an ancient re-run of "Degrassi" who had amazing hair and it got me thinking about curly-haired boys. (That's him in the picture.)

The first thing I remember from the dream is that I've been hired by Curly's mother to help her with office-y things in her home office. I'm desperate enough for cash that I took the job even though it promised awkwardness if Curly showed up. Which was pretty likely, because it was in his house.

Understandably, I was fairly high-strung as I was working with Mrs. Curly, expecting my ex to show up at any given time and be really creeped out by the fact that I was in his house. Thankfully, according to Mrs. Curly, he was at an all-day rehearsal for the upcoming musical at the high school.

Things with Mrs. Curly were weird. Not only was I in my sad, post-college funk still (which, by the way, I'm finally out of) and she had changed drastically as well. She was acting rather depressed and saying things that didn't quite make sense and were too personal to be sharing with her son's ex. For example, she told me that Mr. Curly was gone, implying that he had either left them or had died, I couldn't figure out which. She acted pretty cold towards me, which I guess is kind of understandable for, maybe, one of Curly's friends or something, but not an adult.

Anyway, we working all evening in the home office and I kept trying get away because I was sure Curly would be showing up soon.

It kind of blurred together if this was in the same evening or the next day, but I was in his house working again and there was some kind of family party going on that evening, so I was especially anxious to leave early. Curly still didn't know his mother had hired me.

I was finally on my way out, by way of the basement. (I know what Curly's basement looks like in real life, but in this case it was rather large, tile floors, and there was either a stage or bleachers down there, I don't remember which.) Probably the most prominent (and worrisome) feature of the basement was a large, flat red box mounted on the wall that someone explained to me was a bomb. (No idea why there was a bomb in Curly's basement.)

There were some people milling around, but no one I'd ever met. I was so, so close to getting out, when Curly and his new girlfriend walked in the door on the other side of the room. I ducked down and scrambled to the door close to me, hoping he wouldn't notice me.

But of course, he did.

I don't remember what we said to each other, I just remember that the whole time we were having our awkward run-in, the new girlfriend was attached to his hip.

After leaving Curly's house, I ended up in a surreal, futuristic bookstore with a friend who I had a falling-out with and haven't spoken to in a while.


There were these pod-things that kind of reminded me of the teacup ride and the cars from the Haunted Mansion ride at Disney World. They weren't on any kind of track, they were just floating around in the giant, beautiful bookstore. When I first woke up I could distinctly remember the titles of a few different books I had picked out.

If I had blogged this about six hours ago, I'm sure I would've remembered all of the details way better. At this point, I vaguely remember something about a neighbor, a dog, walking to a Subway restaurant with this girl, Linda, who I used to know (by know I mean hate) from church. And something about cupcakes... anyway, this dream was way more interesting when I woke up and I now apologize for this extraordinarily dull post this I'm going to be putting up anyway.

A Big Damn Hero

I’m getting ready for an awards show with my best friend, Nathan Fillion.

We’re at this rehearsal and he gets tired and frustrated and takes a nap on my shoulder. It’s lovely.

Then when we’re getting ready for the show and he’s trying to decide what to wear to impress his lady interest, Inara Serra. Who is apparently a real person now.

We try out a casual outfit and a suit with a red bow tie and cape before settling with a classic suit. I then have some sort of performance I’m supposed to be in onstage that involves roller-skates, but since I was helping Nathan, I arrive just as they are all skating offstage and have to run around trying to figure out where they’re sitting.

And without further ado...

Millenium Falcon

When I became aware in my dream, I found myself piloting the Millenium Falcon, (if you don't know what that is, just leave my blog right now.) and attempting to land it. I had taken off that morning with the help of an Allison Sweeney/Ms. Nicolia combination, because it was my first day flying. Unfortunately for me, the connection between our radios failed and I was left on my own to attempt to land the ship in my garage.

Luckily, I picked up the radio signal of a random air-traffic controller somewhere near my house, who helped me land successfully. We were both pleased when, after much fumbling and jostling around, the Falcon touched down safely in my garage.


As I'm leaving my garage and walking out into the outside air, it begins to seem as though the Falcon adventure had simply been a flight simulation. When I get out to my driveway, my next door neighbor John comes jogging over. (He’s a pilot.) He asks if I just finished a simulation, I say yes. Turns out, he’s the air traffic controller who helped me and he says I have a lot of promise. (To which I probably blush profusely.)

John babysat for my brother and I when we were kids and I had a huge crush on him. He actually doesn't live next door anymore, but his parents still do. That's a picture of him above.

At this point I decide to walk to Ms. Nicolia's house to tell her how things went. She lives on Benjamin or Pleasant Street I think, both of which are streets in my neighborhood.

When I get there, fellow high school teacher Mr. Lamb is in her house, talking to her at her computer.

I've always been that awkward kid that stands at the front of the classroom waiting for the teacher to finish talking to someone else before they get to me. Seriously, I don't think I've ever been a teacher's first priority. In fact, most times I had a question or issue, I just felt like an annoyance. (That's probably my distorted thought process talking.)

And thus, this dream has clinched it. My role as awkward waiting kid is set in stone because even in this scenario - when I'm a new student who the teacher lost contact with during a dangerous situation and who, as far as the teacher knows, could be dead - I still find myself waiting for assistance, fuming at the fact that the trivial conversation Ms. Nicolia and her colleague are having takes precedent over me, yet somehow feeling stupid and annoying above all.





You'd think that a dream about flying the Millenium Falcon would be awesome, yet somehow my sub-conscious turned it into a stark look at my own distorted insecurities. Ah, the joy of being Grace.

My Mom's Funny Dream

Sorry, Mom. I had to share.
Since I'm more than a little crazy, my mom has to wake me up and give me my pills every morning. (My only comfort is that someday it'll make me a better writer. Maybe?) Anyway, since I remember my dreams almost every night, I always groggily tell her all of the nonsensical details upon waking up. Today she was all excited to tell me about this extremely strange and gross dream she had, which I found really funny.

So apparently the dream began with my mom walking around a mansion, having labor pains. (Mom: "I think I must've been having gas pains in my sleep." I love that woman.)


People kept asking her if it was time to push yet, and she kept saying, "No! I'm not ready!"

Finally she decided it was time and lay down on a table to start pushing. She gave birth to an extremely tiny baby, which, according to her, didn't look entirely human. (Me: You were probably farting in your sleep.) The nurses took it away to clean up when something gross happened. (I think childbirth in general is gross, but this was actually kind of funny.)

A stream of amniotic fluid shot out of my mom - who was still in birthing position - in an arch, and hit a guy who was sitting on a couch watching T.V. a couple rooms over right in the head. He came over and started yelling at her and she got upset because it was obviously not her fault that she had shot amniotic fluid out of her vagina.

Then she kept asking about her baby, where it was and if it was okay, and the nurses weren't telling her anything, which is usually a bad sign. She was worried because it had been so small. But eventually, they brought the baby to her in a blanket and she was holding it when she woke up.

It's so interesting to think about what that dream could possibly mean. The reluctance to begin labor, the alien baby, the man angry at her for something out of her control, the concern for her child. It could relate to a reluctance to let something go or begin something new in her life, although I can't think of what. The alien baby could be me, because I've been having so much trouble lately. She's seeing a strange side of me, an "alien" side of me if you will, and she's been worried about me just like she was worried about the tiny baby.

As far as the amniotic fluid bit goes, I'm clueless. Her and my dad barely ever get mad at each other, so I highly doubt that that's it. Maybe there's some sort of tiff going on with her side of the family or one of her friends that I don't know about. It's possible, since she doesn't usually tell me things as they're happening unless it's urgent. (I can see why she wouldn't want to tell her psycho/depressed daughter about bad things until they were over with.)

Anyway, I know this is the first time I've ever blogged about someone else's dream. And I apologize for the added rant-ish stuff, I usually don't bother interpreting my own dreams, and if I do I say it in far fewer words. But I love my mom and she's worth it. (It's not that I don't enjoy writing extra, I do. I just think it turns readers off to see so much text, and I want to make sure the blog stays focused on the dreams and not on my personal life. I think they tell an interesting narrative of my experiences in their own strange way.)

If you made it this far, I'm impressed. This might just be the ADD talking, but I tend to lose interest in long blog posts about three paragraphs in. So thanks for taking the time to read!

Extremely Long and Incredibly Awesome

It's an intimidatingly long post, I know, but the dream gets more interesting as it goes and I would urge you to bear with it. I know I wrote it and all, and I'm biased, but I think it would be worth your time to read.


First I’m living with my friend Jody. I think about enrolling for classes at Macomb Community College and drive down there twice with Chewy, both times leaving him loose in the courtyard outside the registration building and both times failing to actually register for classes. When I walk out of the building the first time, Chewy is obediently waiting there for me. When I walk out the second time, I have to call his name several times, but he eventually comes running. Since I recently had a really good picture taken of Chewy and I, I'm going to display it here.

When I get back to Jody’s I get into our shared bunk bed and put on my headphones. Later, I get up and go swimming for the last time in her indoor lake.


The indoor lake is in this giant room that has big windows and a few pillars to swim around. The water has filled up the entire room with the exception of four or five feet of air at the surface, right below the ceiling. The water is beautifully blue and clear, and there are the expected seaweed beds and wildlife. I have a certain system to swimming around the lake. I swim to these two particular songs in my head, (one of them might have been "Defying Gravity") and I always go the same way at the same point in the song, interact with the water snake at the same verse every time, etc. (The water snake is pretty oblivious to me, which I think is a very good thing.) I glide through my normal routine extremely happily and calmly, which makes me wish I could do it in real life. I surface a couple times for air, although the water is a few feet higher than it usually is so it throws me off a little bit, but I don’t care very much.

When I finish and get out of the lake, there are several of my friends including Jody (but the rest I don’t really recognize) waiting for me. They tell me we were going to run a marathon down the length of the train.


Now I realize that we’re on a train that I’ve been on several times before, a train that travels between the dozens of districts that make up our country, and we utilize the last car to get on and off of because we live in the final district, a sandy, Tattooine-esque farmland with a few lakes.

My friends are now people who I don’t recognize but who I know to be my sisters. Me and my one older sister are both married, and she is pregnant while we’re doing our marathon. We also have several younger sisters, but none of them too much younger, all in their early or late teens. We open up a bunch of the train car doors and start jogging down the line.

When we’ve run a fair amount, we turn around and run back to the last car, which we get on and off of because, again, we’re the last district in what I now realize is a post-apocalyptic America. (I’ve been reading the Hunger Games… deal with it.)

The last car has a small covered area but is mostly exposed. There is an attendant in it because it can be dangerous while the train is moving.

Our attendant is young, dark-haired, and attractive and I notice he has a fake leg. At a certain point in the train-ride where we seem air-borne, there is a sort of energy field surrounding the last car and we can run outside of its boundaries and onto the air, and still stay held up by some unknown force. My sisters, the cute attendant, and I run out past the last car and play catch with a ball for the time we’re able to be standing on the air.
When we arrive back at our district we get off the train from the last car and return to our home, where our mother (who I don’t recognize either) is waiting.

Our district is very simple, like most of them, doesn’t have much of a government, and doesn’t have vehicles or technology except for the train. However, I know that all of the districts are just as simple, we just have different specialties. (Again with the Hunger Games, I know.)

My sister has her baby in one of the lakes near a buoy. It’s pretty gross, but not any different than regular disgusting childbirth.

Then I get back on the train to take a normal, everyday trip to one of the other districts to grocery shop or something. I get on the last car, as usual.


When I get off into a grocery store in an Asian district, I run into my best friend Jordan and we shop together. (That's him in the picture with me.) We talk about getting an apartment together soon, and when we get back on the train we part ways.

I start to return to the last car as usual, and I’m looking forward to seeing the attractive one-legged attendant again. But I realize quickly that something is going wrong.

The last several cars (and there are hundreds of cars on this train) are jerking around, unmanned. When I get to the last one, there is no attendant in sight.

Someone who works on the train is searching around for an attendant to fill in, because someone must control the last car or we will lose control of the back several cars. Finally they find three people, two guys and a girl, who are apparently somewhat experienced and will help conduct the last cars back with the rest of the train safely. One of the two boys is very tall and wide and has dark hair and heavy dark eyebrows. He’s quiet and grumpy-looking and seems to be the only one who has compliance with safety standards whatsoever. The other boy has wild curly hair and a mischievous gleam in his eye, and the girl has the same look about her. I blow a kiss to the boy because I find him cute, and he accepts it with a wink. They take charge of the back cars recklessly, and before the small crowd of passengers and I know what’s happening, the back cars have separated from the rest of the train and are flying along the tracks wildly.


I get sucked in with the two crazy attendants along with several other passengers, and before we know what’s happening the cars are flying through the air and then splitting, then the tracks are splitting, and then I’m left lying face-down in the sand, who knows how far away from my district or a train boarding site, with several other passengers.

The group of us slowly get up and begin wandering in the direction the train had been going, towards our back districts.

We walk for the whole day, not really with each other but just as a loose group. When it gets dark out, people start dropping down to the ground to sleep, but I decide I’m going to walk as far as I can before I’m absolutely too tired to continue. So I keep walking into the night, with a few other people who are pushing through with me.

As it gets darker it gets colder and before I know it, it starts to rain. Luckily we have found a small portable overhang/tent–looking thing and the few of us huddle under it as it rains. As we’re huddled there, a woman in a dark trench coat comes up to us.

Apparently what little leadership there is among the districts has become suspicious of the large group of people wandering towards the farthest districts and sent someone to check us out. Me and my little group under the tent explain what happened and insist that we’re not up to anything, even digging into our pockets to pay the woman to believe us.

However, after minimal convincing she does seem to trust us. She tells us that she believes the train will come back to pick us up for one reason – because I blew the attendant a kiss and he won’t forget me because of it.

Sure enough, the next morning the train pulls up to us as we’re struggling through the sand, and the crazy curly-haired attendant calls out to me dramatically and operatically, obviously joking, but I go along with it so that we can all get back on the train were we belong.

Once we’re back on the train, we’re in a section of it from which we cannot get to the back car. So we have to get off at a stop far before the ones we were meant to get off at.
At that point, there is a small, uncovered, people-mover-style train that will take us some of the way through some of the more technologically advanced (though not by much) districts.
I get on it along with several of the other passengers who are still journeying towards their districts. At this point it seems that a few weeks have passed since I initially got on the train.

We pass through several districts that I’ve never been in before, the Asian supermarket district, and a Hawaiian island-style district where everyone is dark-skinned and large. (It seems that race and dialect are all according to district - there are no melting-pot style districts like America. And I’m obviously from a Caucasian/European district because I’m white, as usual.)


I have a companion with whom I’ve been traveling for a while now. He’s about my height, a little taller, with tight red curls and a nice face. He looks kind of like Evan Peters but a ginger and a tiny bit uglier.

We have a mutual attraction to each other, and at one point when it seems like we’ll never get back to our districts, I hit a significant (although extremely belated) milestone in my dream life – my first sex dream.

(May I remind you that I do not censor my dreams, but I won’t go into too much description. Everyone know what constitutes having sex, I don’t have to be specific.)

The curly red-head and I are passing through some sort of industrial warehouse when we take the opportunity to duck behind some sheet metal. We strip down and hold each other naked, and then we have sex for the first time, standing up. (That's pretty kinky for my innocent brain.) At first I’m not sure if I like it, but it starts to feel way better after a couple seconds. I don't know if he was well endowed or just really good at what he was doing, but it was pretty amazing.

I know I said I was married earlier in the dream, and I still am. I even told my ginger companion this. But it didn’t make a difference to us because we were both unsure if we’d ever make it back to our districts.

Before we could finish, so to speak, someone came too close to us for comfort and almost discovered us. We quickly got dressed and continued on our journey, although always keeping an eye out for somewhere else to sneak off to and consummate.

A little while after this, we’re walking along some tracks when a rescue team from Ginger Sex Buddy’s district shows up and throws down some blue and white ropes for him to grab onto so they can bring him back to his district, which is closer than mine, safely.

He’s reluctant to leave because he doesn’t want to have to say goodbye to me, but I tearfully tell him that it’s the best thing for him to go back to his district and forget about me. We sadly part ways.

I continue my journey on my own, encountering a large sand dune raining chunks of sand down on me, forcing me to wade into a neighboring lake to avoid getting buried. According to one of the natives of the sandy district, it's because of a recent and serious ant problem.

I’m following the road through the Asian supermarket again when I come across my husband, a big, decent-looking-but-not-really-my-type Asian guy, working at the supermarket. We hug each other happily and he accompanies me the rest of the way home, although Ginger Sex Buddy remains in the back of my mind.


My husband looked a lot like this guy, except Asian.





On the rest of the way home, I start seeing strange vehicles that I don't recognize and hints of pollution in our previously pure home district. As we get closer and closer to my house and the sights get more and more worrisome, I realize with a sinking heart that this peaceful new world we had created after the apocalypse was slowly reverting back to the old America that had eventually destroyed itself, and that our world would continue in an endless cycle of death and re-birth.

Out of all of the profound, sexy, interesting dreams I've ever had, this one took the cake.

Watching too much "Walking Dead."

Something about zombies.

The Windows to the Soul - A Nightmare

First nightmares I've had in months.

From what I can gather, this is the basic plot of the dream.

I live in a town that has some sort of extremely prestigious high school quiz bowl/jeopardy type team. The team qualifies for each level of competition every year and wins every year. In the current year, I am on the team with two other people, a tall, dark-haired guy about my age, and a shorter blonde boy who looks about fourteen.

There's an underlying fear throughout the team, however, that has to do with a legend about the quiz bowl team. Any year that the team hasn't gotten a high enough score to qualify for a tournament or has lost a tournament, the team members mysteriously disappear when the season's over.

Unfortunately for the three of us, our quiz bowl team doesn't qualify for a tournament because we haven't done well enough during the beginning of the season. Shortly after finding this out, I have some sort of flashback.

There was a young, red-headed woman. Her hair was a little longer than chin length, and she looked very sophisticated for a high-schooler. She had been on the quiz bowl team during one of the years it had failed.

In the flashback, she was being pursued by an older man, he looked about fifty or so. He had thinning brown hair and was kind of fat. He was about to catch her.


When he had successfully captured her, he took out a knife and cut a curved line along the bottom of each of her eyelids, cut across the bridge of her nose, and then above her eyes. As I watched in horror, he began to gouge her eyeballs out. I snapped out of the flashback before it got too graphic.

Upon returning to the present, I realized that the man in my flashback was a man whom the team was currently familiar with. He was either a coach or a sponsor, I don't remember which. The worst part of that realization was the fact that my two other team members and I were currently in the man's house.

He had left us alone for a few moments and I immediately started looking for a way out. My teammates had been quickly realizing that something was wrong as well.

We began running around the first floor of the house looking for a way to escape when the young redhead from my flashback, her eyes fully intact, appeared to me and told me to get in her car, she'd help me escape. She seemed to be some sort of spirit.

I got in the car with her and we began driving, but something went wrong (I don't remember what) and I ended back in the house, the redhead nowhere to be found.

Me and the boys found a staircase leading down to the basement and ran down there. (Probably not the best idea. Dream Grace doesn't make good decisions.)

The basement was horrendous. It smelled horrible, and there was slime everywhere. The weirdest part was that there were several cats here and there, big, stinky, disgusting cats that seemed foul and mistreated.


We ran through a doorway into what was unfortunately a room full of reeking litter boxes. We closed the door and started examining the small window to see if we could escape from it.

As the older boy and I were standing against the wall and the younger boy was in front of the window, the door to the room swung open and the man charged in. The older boy and I were hidden from view by the now-open door, but the man ran right at the younger boy, his arms out and ready to attack.

And that moment, my heart pounding as I feared not only for my teammate's life but for my own, seeing as the door could only do so much, is the moment at which I finally woke up.