Sleeptalking: Brrr

My house was very cold last night. I'm trying to keep my heating bill low this early in the season, and I haven't turned on the central heat yet. So it was probably 50 degrees or so inside while I was sleeping.

I woke up, and I was standing in the middle of my room, shivering. As usual, I was probably saying quite a few things, but I only caught the very last thing I said before I rose into consciousness:

                                                   "...as I traverse the treacherous tundra!"

I awoke, realized what I had just said and where I was. I then climbed back into bed, annoyed and freezing. My bed was not warm when I climbed into it, which makes me think I had been out of bed for quite a while. 

I would appreciate it if my subconscious did NOT play arctic explorer when I'm asleep, although I give it points for alliteration. 

Sleeptalking with Audio: The Dangers of the Written Word.

WOW have I been remiss in updating. The main reason for this is that sleep texting hasn't occurred in a looong time --ever since I got my new phone. It's an iphone, and I don't think my sleeping self has figured it out. Or perhaps, it's just not as interested in it.

Other things have happened though, and those things should have been posted! The sleep walking, talking, singing, book-stacking etc, has all continued. Of course the crazy dreams have continued.


Here's a gem that has needed to be posted. I was at my boyfriends house, and fell asleep before he did. This often promotes sleep conversations. Sometimes, he thinks to grab his phone and record what I am saying. Here is the first time that ever happened. Sorry for the pauses. I'm still figuring out how to put audio on here!

This is the audio of me, talking while asleep. Brian is awake. Below is a transcription, in case you can't understand what I'm saying.



Me: When you look through binoculars at a flower?
Brian: Yeah?
Me: And you can read the words off of the flower?
Brian: Yeah?
Me: And you can smell the flower?
Brian: Through the binoculars?
Me: Well, no. You know, by reading.
Brian: Yeah?
Me: You read the words off the flower, and then you can smell the flower.
Brian: From the words?
Me: Yeah. That's why you shouldn't read the words off of anything dangerous.
Brian: Like what?
Me: Well, like... like a bear.
Brian: Where are the words printed on a bear?
Me: On his face. Cause if you...
Brian: What if you read the words on a bomb?
Me: Up close, or from far away?
Brian: From far away.
Me: Like through binoculars?
Brian: Yeah. Through binoculars.
Me: Well, it depends. Is the bomb gonna go off? Is it lit?
Brian: The bomb...I mean..it's a bomb.
Me: Yeah, but. Just cause something is explosive, doesn't mean it's gonna explode right then.
Brian: It's still dangerous though. You just said something dangerous.
Me: Well, a bear is always dangerous. But a bomb isn't dangerous if it's dormant.
Brian: What if the bear is friendly?
Me: There are no friendly bears.
Brian: What about Winnie the Pooh?
Me: That's...not a thing.
<Pause>
Brian: Do you see any words on anything right now?
Me: Well, no. But we're trained not to read involuntarily. That's dangerous.
Brian: Who were we trained by?
Me: Um. You're trained your whole life.... Why are you asking me stupid questions? You know the answers to.
<10 second pause>
Brain: What are you doing?
Me: What?
Brian: What are you doing?
Me: What does it look like I'm doing?
Brian: That's why I'm asking you, I can't tell.
Me: These woods are dangerous.
Brian: Why are they dangerous?
Me: I told you.
Brian: Hyena men? (a reference to a different dream.)
Me: ...What?
Brian: I thought you told me there were dangerous creatures in these woods.
Me: Yeah.
Brian: Like what?
Me: Like...like...the carnivorous Lilly. With it's words on it's face. You can't help but read them.
Brian: Why? Because it's so beautiful?
Me: I don't know why. They don't know why.
Brian: What do the words say? Does anyone know?
Me: No. Because anyone who's read them is dead.
Brian: What if you only read half of them?
Me: That's not possible. Because that's part of...that's part of it. You start...you can't help but read those words and it transfixes you.
Brian: hmm. That is scary.
Me: And you're dead.
Brian: That's really scary.
Me: Yeah. I mean, we are all trained to stop reading dangerous words, but there are creatures here that force you to read them.
Brian: Are there any other dangerous creatures?
Me: Lots... I mean, all these plants. You don't know which ones are good.
Brian: Well, if they don't have any words on them, they're good, right?
Me: Well, we're not looking for words ...you don't ... you know.
Brian: Yeah, I know. I'm sorry.
<pause>
Me: I don't think it's a good idea.
Brian: What?
Me: To, um, to light a fire here.
Brian: Why not
Me: Well, if this is the... if this forest is forcibly literate, then you may not be able to stop yourself from reading the words of the fire.
Brian: Oh... oh man..What are we gonna do?
Me: Well, I don't think we should camp here. I think we should continue through the night.
Brian: What will we do for light?
Me: I don't... the path is big enough. we can see fine. We don't want to draw attention.
Brian: Mm-hm.

Catching up.

A few important new developments:

1. I have a new phone.
My poor phone broke, after only one year of use. Since I just graduated from grad school (another important development!), I was given an iphone as a graduation present!
:D Me with an iphone! Can you believe it?
The downside: I haven't texted in my sleep since I got it. The interface is completely different, of course. No buttons! I'm partly relieved that sleeptexting has stopped, but for the purposes of this blog -it is tragic. Despite the potential dangers, I do hope my sleeping mind gets used to the phone, and begins again with the texting.

2. I have a new boyfriend.
He's already experienced my sleepwalking. He knew about it before we were dating, but now he's seen it first-hand, which is drastically different. Here are a few of the topics I have discussed with him while I was sleeping:
-The potion maker was cheating his customers, as his potion bottles were merely filled with nutmeg. We, as the potion inspectors, have a responsibility to put a stop to this.
-We were in a room of richly adorned people sitting in a line of thrones who appeared to be frozen. When he told me what I had said later, I was reminded of the Magicians Nephew.
-"I can't be held responsible for your opinions." "This is unlawful imprisonment." and many other comments like this directed at him. Poor guy.

Dream: Onion

I dreamed I was an onion growing in the woods.

I kept thinking, I can't believe I'm an onion. This is my whole life?

One day a little girl came along and picked me. She brought me back to her family, who lived in a small house in the woods. From the moment she picked me, I could feel the life force slowly draining away from me.

We arrived at her little house, and her mother diced me up.

My last thoughts were, I still can't believe this was my life. But at least I can nourish this family.

Sleepwalking: A New, Annoying Sleep Habit.

This week I've had to put my bedroom back together every single day because of my sleepwalking.  Every night, I sleepwalk over to my dresser, and empty it of all its clothes. Then I apparently throw my clothes around the room. When I wake up, they're everywhere: on the floor, on the bed, on the bookshelf, on my chair. The drawers are always empty and shut. I also woke up two nights ago with a book on my face.

I've also lost several things, which I'm convinced I misplaced while sleepwalking: certain articles of clothing, makeup, books, etc.

I hope this is just a temporary thing.
I did start to leave my phone in the living room at night, to prevent excessive sleeptexting. It seems to be working so far, but let's not jinx it.

Dream: Adventures with Bill Nye

I had a lucid dream last night.
I dreamed I was attending an Education Festival. There were many tents set up in rows. Inside each tent you could attend a lecture about something. There were signs outside the tents that said things like "Fun with Geology," or "The Basics of Baking," or "The History Sexual Impropriety in Victorian English Literature."

From the beginning, I knew I was dreaming. I was actually enjoying the knowledge, and having a nice day walking around this festival fully aware that it wasn't real. It was relaxing, somehow. (Whenever I know I am dreaming, it doesn't make the dream any less important. So, if I'm about to get killed and I know I am dreaming, it isn't any less frightening for some reason. It's almost as if knowing that I am dreaming doesn't make it not real... it just gives it a different perspective.)

(Small side story: While I was walking around the festival, I ran into my friend Brian."Brian, what are you doing here?" I asked.

"I thought I was supposed to be here. I thought I was supposed to be in all your dreams this month," he said.

I said: "Well, thanks, I appreciate the dedication. But this time, I know I'm dreaming, so you don't have to stay if you don't want to."

"Well, ok. If you're sure. I do have a lot to do today."

Then he left.)

As I walked around some more, I saw a sign outside a large green tent that said: "Dreams: A Science." I thought, when better to go to a lecture about the science of dreams than when you're dreaming?
I walked in and took a seat. The lecturer came out and set up his stuff behind the podium. I was surprised to see that it was Bill Nye the Science Guy! I liked him as a kid, so I was pleased to see him.
The lecture itself was pretty straight forward.  There were a lot of diagrams about brainwaves. We talked about REM sleep, and heightened anabolic states. We talked about Lucid dreams. This is when I decided I was going to talk to him afterwards. I waited for everyone  to leave, and made my way up to the podium as he gathered his things.
"Mr. Nye?" I asked.
"Please, call me Bill!" He said.
We shook hands. I told him I enjoyed the lecture. I was hesitant to tell him the truth. People in my dreams don't usually react well to being told that it's a dream. They usually end up attacking or imprisoning me. But Bill seemed happy to hear it.
"Oh wonderful!" he said. "I was wondering about that. I mean, an Education Festival? That definitely sounded like a dream. A dream come true!" (Bill Nye is a little corny, even in my dream. It also didn't seem to be an the case that he wasn't real. It was as if the setting was the only thing that was the dream, rather than the people.)
"Do you want to see some lucidity in action?" I asked him.
"Absolutly! There's a empty space on the other side of this tent. The "Creative Creationism" tent never showed up. I guess it just goes to show which tents you can rely on!" (This made sense in the dream, and was hilarious. Now it just seems confusing.)

We went out to an empty field in back of the dream tent.
"There are lots of things we can do with Lucidity. But altering gravity is my favorite." I told him. I took a normal, small leap forward, and landed as you would in real life. Then I took another leap, and went very slowly through the air, and landed gently.
"Think of it as walking on the moon." I said. "Here, take my hand. You'll be able to do it too."
He took my hand and attempted, but gravity was normal for him. I leaped with him on the third time. When he was starting to decend at a normal pace, I pulled him back into the air and he glided with me a short distance before we landed gently.
"That's astonishing!" He was almost beside himself with excitement. "I have read about these things. I have lectured about these things. But I have never seen it before, let alone done it myself."
"Would you like to try flying?" I asked him.
His eyes went wide. "Is that possible? I'm not the lucid one. I wont be able to get off the ground."
"Yes you will, as long as you're holding my hand."
"I've always wanted to try it. If it's safe, I would like nothing more."

I took his hand again, and we started to run forward. After eight large steps, I jumped into the air, pulling him with me. We flew over the tents, and away from the festival. It was almost dark by now, and the stars were coming out. Bill was yelling in excitement.
"Just don't let go of my hand!" I shouted back.

Suddenly there was a meteor shower. It was beautiful at first. I flew us towards a hilly area, away from electric lights so that we could see the shower better.  After a while, the meteors started to get bigger. They were getting closer. I started to get a little worried. "I think we should head back." I told Bill. He agreed. We turned back the way we came. In the distance ahead of us, there was what appeared to be a wall of evenly spaced electric lights. When we got closer, I realized they were not electric lights, but meteors, still bright, and hanging suspended in the air. I looked around us and noticed they had created a dome of evenly spaced lights all around us. The dome was growing smaller. I did not like the idea of flying through it, but there seemed to be little choice.
"Hold on!" I shouted.We flew straight through the dome, trying to avoid the lights. I felt a slight resistance in the air as we passed through, and a light surrounded our bodies. It looked like when something is re-entering earths atmosphere in a movie. Like this.

We got past it, and the lights faded. I dropped Bill off at his house, instead of back at the Festival. It had been a tiring experience, and we were both feeling a little shaky. He invited me in for tea. We had a cup of camomile, while we talked about lucidity and then I left. He was sitting in his chair as he waved goodbye to me.
Three hours later, I was walking down the street, when suddenly I felt an extreme pressure in my head. All of a sudden, I was not walking on the street anymore. I was back in Bills house in the doorway. He was waving goodbye to me.
"What? What just happened?" I said.
"What do you mean?" he said. "You finished your tea, and you were about to leave."
"What? No... I left three hours ago. I was miles from here."

It turned out that when we had flown through the meteor dome, we had somehow ripped a hole in time. Every three hours, it reset itself to the the moment I was about to leave his house. He remembered nothing, but I remembered it as continuous.
But who better to figure this problem out than Bill Nye the Science Guy? I had the spend the first half hour of the three hours explaining the situation to him, then we spent the next two and half hours trying to fix the problem.

Sleeptexting: Unprofessionalism

First time sleeptexting with Zoe. She knew all about my sleeptexting, so she was ready. As she put it the next morning: "I was so excited, I couldn't sleep!"

Me: There are seventy-nine separate subcategories, and the possibility for error increases exponentially with each.

Zoe: How will you figure this out, then?

Me: I am already fully qualified to run the generator. You must learn each subcategory if you are to be entrusted with any responsibility here.

Zoe: Is there a book I can read or an algorithm to use?

Me: You have already received your standard issue manual, which you must memorize. The generator powers both cities. All workers must be fully qualified to handle any and all emergencies.

Zoe: But it's my first day! Surely I wasn't to have everything memorized already.

Me: Unprofessionalism will not be tolerated. This orientation is of the utmost importance.

Zoe: Yes ma'am. I do apologize for my insubordination. Carry on.


I don't think I've ever been that official before in my sleep. I'm picturing the setting as futuristic for some reason. Maybe I dreamed about it, but I don't remember.