I'm visiting my mom in New Orleans right now. I always seem to dream less when I'm here. Category 1 dreams only lately.
For example, I dreamed last night that I was wandering around in darkness wondering where everyone went. Some random stranger passed by in a hurry and I asked him.
"What, didn't you hear?" He said. "No dreams right now."
"Why not?" I asked.
"What do I know, I'm just an extra. They don't tell me nuthin."
And he hurried away.
In another dream, I was just sitting in the living room with my mom and sister, when I suddenly realized that I forgot to pay rent.
"Shit! I forgot to send in the rent check!"
My sister said "Well, don't forget. You'll have to do it when you wake up. But sometimes stuff like this is hard to remember between dreams and waking."
"You're right," I said. I turned to my mom. "Will you remind me when I wake up?"
She paused and said, "I can try. But I don't think that's how it works."
When I woke up I did remember, but I also remembered that I sent in the rent last week.
Maybe it's the heat. My brain gets lazy in 99 degree weather, just like the rest of me.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Why I shouldn't sleep on public transportation
I was on a plane yesterday, headed to New Orleans to visit my mom.
I was only resting my eyes.... I wasn't sleeping....
At least, I didn't know I was sleeping. For obvious reasons, I try not to fall asleep on public transportation -especially planes, where security is high.
Apparently I turned to the Australian girl in the seat next to me and said:
"Yes, most assuredly!"
I don't remember saying this. The conversation that followed was rather confusing and went something like this:
Her: "What?"
Me (waking up): "What?"
Her: "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
Me: "I'm sorry, what?"
Her: "You just said something to me."
Me: "I did?"
Her: "Yeah. You said: 'Yes, most assuredly!'"
Me: "I did? ...I'm sorry."
Her: "Sorry? For what?"
Me: "I said that in my sleep. I'm awake now though. Sorry."
Her: "Oh! ...oh, ok."
Awkward.
At least what I said was very innocent. Imagine the trouble I could get into on a plane. Imagine if I didn't wake up, and continued talking.
No more sleeping on public transportation.
I was only resting my eyes.... I wasn't sleeping....
At least, I didn't know I was sleeping. For obvious reasons, I try not to fall asleep on public transportation -especially planes, where security is high.
Apparently I turned to the Australian girl in the seat next to me and said:
"Yes, most assuredly!"
I don't remember saying this. The conversation that followed was rather confusing and went something like this:
Her: "What?"
Me (waking up): "What?"
Her: "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
Me: "I'm sorry, what?"
Her: "You just said something to me."
Me: "I did?"
Her: "Yeah. You said: 'Yes, most assuredly!'"
Me: "I did? ...I'm sorry."
Her: "Sorry? For what?"
Me: "I said that in my sleep. I'm awake now though. Sorry."
Her: "Oh! ...oh, ok."
Awkward.
At least what I said was very innocent. Imagine the trouble I could get into on a plane. Imagine if I didn't wake up, and continued talking.
No more sleeping on public transportation.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Dream: The Slavery Option
In this dream I was a middle eastern looking man. No particular country or time period, that I can remember.
I was heavy set, but powerful looking. I was the head of a deeply rooted, powerful illegal business operation that exported weapons and dangerous chemicals between countries. I was a very wealthy man, and a dangerous man to cross. I had connections everywhere, and been indirectly responsible for more than one political assassination.
I had two daughters, Shaia and Nasreen. They were both heart-breakingly beautiful, five years apart in age. Their mother had been killed a long time ago, soon after the birth of little Shaia. I loved them both, but I could bear to look at them only every few days, because they reminded me so much of their mother.
When Nasreen, the eldest was fifteen, I sold her to a group of extremists in exchange for Nuclear weapons. It was an important trade, one that would made me the richest of all underground weapons traders. Nasreen was forced into sexual slavery.
There were two kinds of pleasure slaves. The higher class slaves who were basically well treated, and the lower slaves -for whom anything goes. The lower slaves were blinded with hot coals, and were known by the purple blindfolds that they wore. I made sure my daughter was of the higher caste. She was well fed, beautifully clothed, she lived in luxurious places, she was never given drugs, and was only rarely treated with any kind of violence.
My second daughter, Shaia , was now coming of age, and was proving to be even more beautiful than her sister. I vowed that I would keep her in my household, and not sell her.
The extremest to whom I had given Nasreen, came back to me and demanded that I give them Shaia as a second payment for the weapons. They threatened to blind and demote Nasreen if they could not have both of them. I did not give them a response for several weeks -I was too furious to think rationally. I came home one day to a clear threat: a purple blindfold nailed to my front door.
That night, I stood over my sleeping daughter, trying to decide her fate. Shaia was only thirteen years old. I could not bear the idea of my Nasreen blinded into lower slavery. But my beautiful little Shaia was the last reminder I had of my beloved wife.
I woke up before I made my decision. I was really rather disturbed by this dream. Just the fact that I was a oily, middle aged man was bad enough. And then selling my children into sexual slavery and being fine with that decision?? My subconscious worries me sometimes.
I was heavy set, but powerful looking. I was the head of a deeply rooted, powerful illegal business operation that exported weapons and dangerous chemicals between countries. I was a very wealthy man, and a dangerous man to cross. I had connections everywhere, and been indirectly responsible for more than one political assassination.
I had two daughters, Shaia and Nasreen. They were both heart-breakingly beautiful, five years apart in age. Their mother had been killed a long time ago, soon after the birth of little Shaia. I loved them both, but I could bear to look at them only every few days, because they reminded me so much of their mother.
When Nasreen, the eldest was fifteen, I sold her to a group of extremists in exchange for Nuclear weapons. It was an important trade, one that would made me the richest of all underground weapons traders. Nasreen was forced into sexual slavery.
There were two kinds of pleasure slaves. The higher class slaves who were basically well treated, and the lower slaves -for whom anything goes. The lower slaves were blinded with hot coals, and were known by the purple blindfolds that they wore. I made sure my daughter was of the higher caste. She was well fed, beautifully clothed, she lived in luxurious places, she was never given drugs, and was only rarely treated with any kind of violence.
My second daughter, Shaia , was now coming of age, and was proving to be even more beautiful than her sister. I vowed that I would keep her in my household, and not sell her.
The extremest to whom I had given Nasreen, came back to me and demanded that I give them Shaia as a second payment for the weapons. They threatened to blind and demote Nasreen if they could not have both of them. I did not give them a response for several weeks -I was too furious to think rationally. I came home one day to a clear threat: a purple blindfold nailed to my front door.
That night, I stood over my sleeping daughter, trying to decide her fate. Shaia was only thirteen years old. I could not bear the idea of my Nasreen blinded into lower slavery. But my beautiful little Shaia was the last reminder I had of my beloved wife.
I woke up before I made my decision. I was really rather disturbed by this dream. Just the fact that I was a oily, middle aged man was bad enough. And then selling my children into sexual slavery and being fine with that decision?? My subconscious worries me sometimes.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Sleeptexting: Happiness
I sleeptexted my Professor again. x_x
Here is what I said to him:
"There are twenty-four types of happiness, just pick one already! Personally, my favorite is the purple kind."
I don't know what that means, and it would have made me laugh more if I had sent it to a friend, instead of my grad professor.
I sent him an email apologizing, and remarking on how rediculous the situation was, and how I never expected to have to apologize to a professor for something like this.
He wrote back saying there is no need to apologize, and that he finds the whole thing fascinating. It still is rather worrisome for me though. Everything I've sleeptexted to him has been fairly innocent so far, but what if I say something less innocent someday?
He wished me all twenty-four types of happiness this summer vacation. How sweet of him.
Here is what I said to him:
"There are twenty-four types of happiness, just pick one already! Personally, my favorite is the purple kind."
I don't know what that means, and it would have made me laugh more if I had sent it to a friend, instead of my grad professor.
I sent him an email apologizing, and remarking on how rediculous the situation was, and how I never expected to have to apologize to a professor for something like this.
He wrote back saying there is no need to apologize, and that he finds the whole thing fascinating. It still is rather worrisome for me though. Everything I've sleeptexted to him has been fairly innocent so far, but what if I say something less innocent someday?
He wished me all twenty-four types of happiness this summer vacation. How sweet of him.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Dream: The Blue Goddess II
Wow. I did indeed dream about the blue goddess again. To be honest, I wasn't expecting to. My dreams are only rarely recurring, or related to each other.
In this dream, I returned to that place of pitch blackness. I was surprised, thinking, basically what I wrote above. Thoughts like: "Where am I? Oh I'm dreaming again. Wow, two dreams in a row about this place, that doesn't happen often."
The goddess came to me again, blue and shining as before. She held out her hand and said one word: "Come."
I placed my hand in hers, and suddenly I was no longer in that place of blackness. I was standing in an open air marketplace. It looked like a marketplace in India. I was startled at this sudden change of location (something that probably wouldn't bother me in a normal dream. This dream was much more realistic in how it felt, and my reactions.)
The goddess was no longer standing beside me. I looked around, but she was nowhere to be found. So without any other options, I decided to explore a bit. The colors of this marketplace were amazingly vivid. There were tents everywhere, lining the street I was on and branching off into many little alleyways. The stalls sold some things that I recognized, like dates and nuts and many fresh, colorful vegetables. Most of the tents on this street, however, sold spices. The spices were on display in beautifully carved boxes, or colorful cloth-lined barrels. There were thousands of different spices, and the air was extremely fragrant with the mixture of them all. There was hardly a dull color anywhere. The tents, the clothing of the merchants and the shoppers, the spices themselves, all vivid.
It was very warm. Temperature is also not something I usually take note of in dreams. I can't remember ever sweating in a dream before. No one at the marketplace seemed to notice me, but as I walked around, they would step to one side, making room without looking.
Only once did I bump into someone. I started to apologize, but when I looked up, I saw that it was Merlin.
Quick note about Merlin: This is a man who has appeared in my dreams every once in a while, since I was a very young child. He almost never participates in the dream, I just see him on the fringes, watching. He has always seemed to be a seporate part, as if he is just an observer. I have been able to talk to him only a few times. His name is not Merlin, but I started calling him that when I was little, because he has a bushy beard, and he seems magical to me. I told him that once, and he was very amused, so the name stuck. I'll talk more about Merlin another time, but what's important right now is that on the rare occasions that Merlin talks to me, he usually tells me to prepare myself for an important destiny, or some such dramatic thing like that. He told me once that all my ancestors have lived so that I might be born, because I have an important job to do in my lifetime. No pressure, right?
But I'm always happy to see Merlin anyway. He's like a father figure, or even a spirit guide in my dreams.
So when I bumped into Merlin, he smiled warmly at me. It was almost a mischievous smile.
He said, "I told you so." and walked away before I could speak.
After wandering around in the marketplace for what seemed like hours, I saw the blue goddess again. She was leaning against a table inside the spice tent I was looking at. I hadn't seen her arrive -it was like she had always been there, and I only just noticed her.
She said, "Time to go." She reached out and touched me on the hand.
Then I woke up. At least, I dreamed that I woke up. It was exactly like my bedroom, and I was myself. I quickly sat up, and what looked like blue/purple dust billowed off of me. I shook out my hair and more dust flew off. It looked like sapphire powder.
Then I noticed the fragrance in my room. I could still smell the spices. I sat in bed in awe for a few minutes, as the smell of spices slowly began to fade.
I dreamed I fell back asleep. The goddess was waiting for me in the place of blackness, smiling. We had a long conversation, only part of which I remember. I asked her what the blue dust was. She told me that until I learned to do what she was trying to teach me, she had to use to blue powder. She told me that it was a conductive material, to bridge the gap between worlds.
In this dream, I returned to that place of pitch blackness. I was surprised, thinking, basically what I wrote above. Thoughts like: "Where am I? Oh I'm dreaming again. Wow, two dreams in a row about this place, that doesn't happen often."
The goddess came to me again, blue and shining as before. She held out her hand and said one word: "Come."
I placed my hand in hers, and suddenly I was no longer in that place of blackness. I was standing in an open air marketplace. It looked like a marketplace in India. I was startled at this sudden change of location (something that probably wouldn't bother me in a normal dream. This dream was much more realistic in how it felt, and my reactions.)
The goddess was no longer standing beside me. I looked around, but she was nowhere to be found. So without any other options, I decided to explore a bit. The colors of this marketplace were amazingly vivid. There were tents everywhere, lining the street I was on and branching off into many little alleyways. The stalls sold some things that I recognized, like dates and nuts and many fresh, colorful vegetables. Most of the tents on this street, however, sold spices. The spices were on display in beautifully carved boxes, or colorful cloth-lined barrels. There were thousands of different spices, and the air was extremely fragrant with the mixture of them all. There was hardly a dull color anywhere. The tents, the clothing of the merchants and the shoppers, the spices themselves, all vivid.
It was very warm. Temperature is also not something I usually take note of in dreams. I can't remember ever sweating in a dream before. No one at the marketplace seemed to notice me, but as I walked around, they would step to one side, making room without looking.
Only once did I bump into someone. I started to apologize, but when I looked up, I saw that it was Merlin.
Quick note about Merlin: This is a man who has appeared in my dreams every once in a while, since I was a very young child. He almost never participates in the dream, I just see him on the fringes, watching. He has always seemed to be a seporate part, as if he is just an observer. I have been able to talk to him only a few times. His name is not Merlin, but I started calling him that when I was little, because he has a bushy beard, and he seems magical to me. I told him that once, and he was very amused, so the name stuck. I'll talk more about Merlin another time, but what's important right now is that on the rare occasions that Merlin talks to me, he usually tells me to prepare myself for an important destiny, or some such dramatic thing like that. He told me once that all my ancestors have lived so that I might be born, because I have an important job to do in my lifetime. No pressure, right?
But I'm always happy to see Merlin anyway. He's like a father figure, or even a spirit guide in my dreams.
So when I bumped into Merlin, he smiled warmly at me. It was almost a mischievous smile.
He said, "I told you so." and walked away before I could speak.
After wandering around in the marketplace for what seemed like hours, I saw the blue goddess again. She was leaning against a table inside the spice tent I was looking at. I hadn't seen her arrive -it was like she had always been there, and I only just noticed her.
She said, "Time to go." She reached out and touched me on the hand.
Then I woke up. At least, I dreamed that I woke up. It was exactly like my bedroom, and I was myself. I quickly sat up, and what looked like blue/purple dust billowed off of me. I shook out my hair and more dust flew off. It looked like sapphire powder.
Then I noticed the fragrance in my room. I could still smell the spices. I sat in bed in awe for a few minutes, as the smell of spices slowly began to fade.
I dreamed I fell back asleep. The goddess was waiting for me in the place of blackness, smiling. We had a long conversation, only part of which I remember. I asked her what the blue dust was. She told me that until I learned to do what she was trying to teach me, she had to use to blue powder. She told me that it was a conductive material, to bridge the gap between worlds.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Dream: The Blue Goddess
Last night, I was visited by a goddess in a dream. She had beautiful blue skin. I'm calling her a goddess, but she was beautiful in an androgynous way. She looked like the more feminine pictures of Krishna.
This was a short, lucid dream. I was standing in pitch darkness, thinking:
"Where am I? The last thing I remember is going to bed. This must be a dream." I called out a few times, but no one answered. I tried to wake up, but I couldn't. I tried to change my surroundings, because I can usually do that in a lucid dream, but I couldn't. All I could do was wait.
Then I saw a small blue light in the distance, coming closer. I waited as the Goddess walked slowly towards me, glowing with a faint sapphire light.
"Lizzy," she said in a deep, warm voice. "Prepare yourself for tomorrow night's dream."
Then she leaned over, and placed her mouth on mine. She breathed very gently, pushing air into my mouth.
I woke up gasping.
So... I guess we will have to wait to see what I dream tomorrow night. My subconscious is weird. If I do dream something tomorrow, it must already be in my mind, but I can't access it. I hope its not a nightmare.
This was a short, lucid dream. I was standing in pitch darkness, thinking:
"Where am I? The last thing I remember is going to bed. This must be a dream." I called out a few times, but no one answered. I tried to wake up, but I couldn't. I tried to change my surroundings, because I can usually do that in a lucid dream, but I couldn't. All I could do was wait.
Then I saw a small blue light in the distance, coming closer. I waited as the Goddess walked slowly towards me, glowing with a faint sapphire light.
"Lizzy," she said in a deep, warm voice. "Prepare yourself for tomorrow night's dream."
Then she leaned over, and placed her mouth on mine. She breathed very gently, pushing air into my mouth.
I woke up gasping.
So... I guess we will have to wait to see what I dream tomorrow night. My subconscious is weird. If I do dream something tomorrow, it must already be in my mind, but I can't access it. I hope its not a nightmare.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Dreams: Recital Anxiety
I have a masters recital coming up. So of course I'm nervous about it, and it's leaking into my dreams.
Last night I dreamed that I was late to my recital. I was in my formal dress, trying to get ready as fast as I could. My roommate Anjin was my ride. As we were about to leave she said,
"No, let's not take the car. Let's take the Wonkavator! It'll be much faster."
(For those who don't know, the Wonkavator is from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. It was his elevator that could go in any direction.)
But as soon as we stepped into the Wonkavator, it started malfunctioning. It took off like a roller coaster, and carried us all over the world. At one point I was looking out the window as we flew over the Pyramids, shouting, "I don't have time for this! I'm late for my recital!"
When I finally arrived, 50 minutes late for my hour long recital, I got up on stage, opened my mouth, and passed out.
Anjin explained to the astonished audience, "Yeah, the Wonkavator can do that to ya."
In another dream, the audience for my recital was filled with all the teachers I've ever had, dating back from preschool.
My voice teacher came up to me backstage five minutes before I went on. She said, "There has been a very slight change in the plan. The dean has requested that you perform all of your songs in German. You're going to have to translate the other languages into German while you're up there. You should be fine. Good luck, sweet girl!" Then she pushed me out onto the stage.
I hate dreams like this. They're so dream-like. Everyone has these. They're ridiculous when you wake up, but at the time, they are utterly terrifying.
Last night I dreamed that I was late to my recital. I was in my formal dress, trying to get ready as fast as I could. My roommate Anjin was my ride. As we were about to leave she said,
"No, let's not take the car. Let's take the Wonkavator! It'll be much faster."
(For those who don't know, the Wonkavator is from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. It was his elevator that could go in any direction.)
But as soon as we stepped into the Wonkavator, it started malfunctioning. It took off like a roller coaster, and carried us all over the world. At one point I was looking out the window as we flew over the Pyramids, shouting, "I don't have time for this! I'm late for my recital!"
When I finally arrived, 50 minutes late for my hour long recital, I got up on stage, opened my mouth, and passed out.
Anjin explained to the astonished audience, "Yeah, the Wonkavator can do that to ya."
In another dream, the audience for my recital was filled with all the teachers I've ever had, dating back from preschool.
My voice teacher came up to me backstage five minutes before I went on. She said, "There has been a very slight change in the plan. The dean has requested that you perform all of your songs in German. You're going to have to translate the other languages into German while you're up there. You should be fine. Good luck, sweet girl!" Then she pushed me out onto the stage.
I hate dreams like this. They're so dream-like. Everyone has these. They're ridiculous when you wake up, but at the time, they are utterly terrifying.
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