ad hoc.

Oh man, this dream was a doozy. Thanks to those who keep telling me I married Bret Michaels, I had a really vivid dream last night that I was on Rock of Love. And wouldncha know, I had made it to the top three contesetants, so the show’s finale was an intense judging. I also want to add that one of the other three was a guy, so maybe Bret swings or I was mixing it up with Shot At Love With Tila Tequila. So, for the final “date”, we had to choose a book that we liked and come and discuss it. (I KNOW!) Thinking that Bret was a moron, I chose a Sweet Valley High book. And one that I didn’t actually read, but I figured I could make up the plot and probably be right. Although at the final date, it wasn’t just Bret, but the producers, some of his friends and even some professors. I suddenly felt kind of shy and annoyed, and I heard them talking about what sort of marks they were giving me. (I got a C on my book report, and a C because I didn’t give Bret flowers before the date.) Luckily, a friend of mine happened to be there so I dragged him over to the bar to have a bitch session about the process, saying I wanted to just quit and get the hell out of there, the show was bullshit, etc etc. The producer of the show overheard me and I got in trouble so they banished me to a nearby hotel. I told her my plan, that I just wanted to leave, and I wanted to tell Bret that we weren’t meant for each other, and I would leave gracefully and let one of the other two people throw themselves all over him. Once Bret heard that, he was really mad because HE didn’t want to be rejected before he could reject me. So I compromised and I said I would do it on camera and make a big emotional scene to make some good tv. They agreed to that, so I started picking out what I was going to wear, and to my horror, all my clothes suddenly became see-through. And then I woke up in a cold sweat. The end.

I had the most awful dream. Disney World became a traveling theme park, and took over cities and stuff wherever they went (kind of like the World’s Fair). In my dream they were “renting out” Manhattan for about a week to set up shop and rake in money from people. Well, for some reason I was forced to go every day as a tourist. It was awful. They transformed St. Mark’s in the East Village into Main Street USA and Central Park was basically destroyed so that they could install Big Thunder Mountain Railroad and that shit. Also, I kept finding myself having to appear on an awful game show being filmed at MGM studios. I remember walking around and seeing all the brainwashed employees with fake smiles and sensible haircuts. I don’t know why I have been thinking about my horrid semester working there, I had tried to forget it entirely, but it keeps coming up. Sigh. This is one dream where I actually woke up still freaked out.

I had a deam last night that because of the Borat controversy in Uzbekistan, they moved Erin’s peace corps program from there to Denmark, and she convinced me to apply. Most of my dream was the rigorous application process, but at the last minute, I ealized that I would have to fly to be able to get there. I am an idiot.

I haven’t been having very oherent dreams lately, but I just woke up from one. It turns out that some people were organizing a roast for me. Like the ones on Comedy Central, the Roast of Denis Leary and whatnot. It took place in an auditorium at a local mall, and hundreds of people showed up. I barely know 20 people, so this was weird. Some bands performed and there were some speakers, and people had to fill in cards as they arrived that said something like, “growing up Jewish is like….” I don’t know. Someone alsodecorated the place with paper bats or something. It was also televised for god knows what channel. The thing I remember is that I was all put out about it because I was supposed to give a speech at the end and I was having a hard time coming up with fake tears because I was expected to cry out of happiness. I don’t think this dream had to do with any sort of egotism.

The good news is that I am sleeping a lot better, however, the counter to that is that I am having extemely vivid dreams, which can be good, but my sick demented mind always comes up with something that bothers me. So, I was the madame of a brothel that allowed customers to customize the type of person they wanted to be with. Meaning, selecting from a wide range of different body parts and different personalities. Ok, before you can say this seems like the plotline to the next rom-com starring Jennifer Love Hewitt, think how gory that can get. As in, I had some sort of warehouse of body parts people browsed. Not to mention the philosophical and ethical weirdness of it all. The whole thing turned into some sort of conspiracy because after a while I couldn’t tell which of my clients were real and which were the fabricated ones. Apparently I was running from the law and from my clients, I am not sure why (maybe because I pimped them out) but it was hard for me to go incognito because the conditoner I used had a distinct smell and always gave me away (I know this is because earlier in the day I was excited that I found tea tree oil conditioner at Stop n Shop). Anyway, I am going to wake Stanley Kubrick from the dead to see if he wants to direct this one. If not, I guess Ridley Scott could turn it into some sort of Blade Runner Sequel.

This is the oldest cliche in the book. I dreamt I was getting ready for my first day of high school. As usual, I couldn't decide on what to wear, so I just went topless. Maybe I figured, hey, the slutty look is in with kids these days. Of course, as soon as I got to homeroom, I realized it was a bad idea and so did the school counselor. I had to call my mom to bring me a shirt and she was PISSED. This is the oldest dream cliche in the book. What does it mean again? Vulnerability? Bad choices?

Oh, that just made me think of the outfit I did wear to my first day of high school in ninth grade. I only remember because I usually spent the summer before perfecting it. Let's see. I recall a red silk button down shirt tucked into demin shorts (the kind that you rolled up at the bottom) with some white keds. I believe a scrunchy was also involved. Hot!

Being sick = odd dreams. Some friends and I, in two cars,  were driving back from somewhere on a deserted road when we came upon another group of people whose truck had broke down. They ended up holding us at gunpoint and stealing one of our cars. Right when it happened a whole police force, complete with riot gear and tear gas, arrived immediately. Seriously, where were they then the original car brokedown? Somehow, in all the confusion, my friends and I got arrested for the crime (?). We all had a trial and somehow, the rule was, the closer you were found standing to a certain point, the guiltier you were. I went into the woods to pee so I was not as guilty as others. Five of my friends got a prison sentence, and the rest of us had some sort of work release program where we had to attend career skills classes or something. So my class was taking a field trip and learned about using computers, and we had to navigate through this multimedia presentation that my friends in prison put together. It had video clips and pictures of all the stuff they were doing in prison to keep themselves occupied, including choreographed dances and one act plays. After seeing the clips, I realized how much fun they were having and I was mad that I hadn't been sentenced to prison. I spent a lot of effort and tears convincing everyone around me that I was really guilty and I deserved to be with them, but no one would listen and in fact they reduced my sentence. The nerve!  The weird thing is this was one of the first dreams in a while where I actually was myself, which rarely happens.

How to interpret it? Oh, the psychoanalysis I could do on this one. Don't get me started. 

I really really wonder what is affecting my dreams lately. They have become more and more vivid and emotionally involved. Last night I had a dream where a friend of mine and I were going to some club in the city to see some band. Afterwards, we went backstage to meet the band and they accidentally revealed a closet in the backstage which led to a whole other world/dimension. I guess kind of a modern Narnia, if you will. Except that this alternate world was similar in every fashion- it wasn't a fantasy world or anything. Everything was the same except each world was not aware of the other. Ok, this dream was like in epic film fashion where it spanned a number of years, with flashbacks and it jumped around in time. Among other things, I hid my knowledge of this alternate universe for like 10 years or so and I had all these elaborate schemes and close calls about people discovering. At some point I even had a husband and kids in the alternate universe and no one in this real world even knew about it. How I raised them I don't know. The thing that is weird is that I was a main player in this, but the dream was presented very cinematically. With a soundtrack and stylistic aspects to it. There were flashbacks and skipping around within time. There were also rewinds if you will. Meaning, I liked how things panned out at some point so I basically relived that part of the dream.

The thing that fascinates me is a sensation of time. Although the story spanned ten years or so, it certainly felt like the actual dream spanned at least 15-20 hours. However, this dream definately occurred between 5:30 and 8:30 this morning. How does that perception of time get distorted? And where the hell are these ideas and people coming from? How the hell can my brain generate such detail in the setting? While in the dream I specifically remember observing all the details of the people and the environment. And this also always happens to me- in that brief period of waking where I am half awake but not really up and conscious yet, I am still unaware if the events in the dream actually occurred. The point before I open my eyes, see my actual surroundings and fully realize it was a dream. As in, I actually remember thinking to myself, I need to check imdb.com and see if this was actually released as a movie. Wtf people, what is wrong with my brain?

I am seriously interested in learning more about dreaming, both the biological and the meanings of the smbols and how it reflects repressed thoughts. But not through those shitty books called dream dictionaries, where you look up the symbols in your dreams. Like if there were koala bears in my dream it means I am worried about getting a promotion at work. I need some more academic, informative stuff. If anyone has read anything, please let me know.

So last night I dreamt that I was interviewing for a job. Wonder where that came from. I decided not to eat the night before so I would fit into my size zero suit for the next day. Yea and life works that way. And I decided to wear six inch heels. We all know that means trouble. So I get there and first off the staff goes into a song and dance number and asks me to join in. Little do I know this is some sort of test of social norms. I passed that one. Then they kept saying off color remarks to me to see if I would agree and fall into the trap. After going to the ladies room, they left me to find my way back to the interview room as another test. At that point I realized that I didn't even remember the name of the school I was interviewing at. Awkward. I ended up leaving in the middle. You don't need to be Freud to tell me what this dream is about.

What sort of lsd did I take before I went to sleep? My first dream of the night was that I was strung out on dope or something and trying to run a day camp. The last dream I had before I woke up, I dreamt about the plot for the last Harry Potter novel. Apparently, Harry finds the relics of Godric Gryffandor, including several of his feathers, which allows him to fly. He finds out that he must go on a quest to Albany, NY (yes, Albany) to fight a political figure over the control of the world’s oil supply. Wtf.

Last night I had a dream that I was cast in the local commnunity theater’s production of Miss Saifon, alongside Hilary Duff. And that the New Pornographers were providing the music. Where do I come up with this stuff?

p.s. you can listen to a NP concert here.

So I sent Hammers some (allegedly) naked photos of Fall Out Boy that I found on a British celebrity blog. Now I’ve totally alientated and disgusted her. Why am I gross?

Wow, just got up from a nap and had a pretty vivid dream. I was held in exile in some sort of prison compound for people with telekenic powers. Inside the compound it was a fairly decent place to live, although I lived in a small unit with my parents, first cousins, and their children (wtf?). After realizing where we were, myself and a rogue group of women managed to escape. While we were making our escape, we realized this prison was adjacent to a football camp. Just as we reached the exit to the prison, we got into a scuffle with some asshole football players. Me and one of my magical compadres stepped up, one took a swipe at me and caught me in the face (yet it didn't hurt that much). So, we mentally summoned a football, make it white-hot, and mentally projected it into their camp, which then turned into a bomb and destroyed the whole football camp. Wow! I am seeing this as a Quentin Tarantino pic with perhaps some cameos from the Harry Potter cast as some of the telekenic, magical prisoners. Do I take LSD before I go to sleep?

I rarely remember my dreams, and rarely so vividly. I wish there was a device that would record my dreams and burn it onto a dvd. Well, this isn't the Jetsons, so that is not going to happen anytime soon.

But anyway, I got invloved in this group of friends, led by someone who looked somewhat like Reese Witherspoon, and I ended up getting brainwashed Patty Hearst style into causing mayhem all over town (a suburban town at that). We terrorized a high school, breaking stuff and spray-painting vulgar, radical feminist messages everywhere. (Just so you know, the other members of this group included Erin, that guy Jason Lewis from Sex and the City, and my coworker Brandon. Yea we were pretty hardcore). The leader of our group was a woman who was a cross between Reese Witherspoon and some woman I met at a recent conference. Our last straw was when we decided to trash the local Filene's basement by hurling things off shelves and hangers (for some reason, in the context of my dream, that was badass, I swear). I hatched this amazing plan by pretending to be a stockperson and escaping the store when the police arrived. But when I ran outside, I realized I forgot where I had parked, so I ended up getting arrested anyway, along with the leader of the cult and some other guy, who was apparently my boyfriend (barely remember him from the dream). So, my boyfriend, who was a highly revered figure within the cult, was sentended to death by way of electric chair, and the cult leader and I were handcuffed to each other, and brought to a rehabilitation center.

This center was run by a kind and dedicated psychologist, who in my dream was played by a former supervisor of mine. We had a very Lifetime movie moment where we had these huge breakthroughs where I resisted but he helped me through it. Meanwhile, about several days later, the cult leader (Reese) and I realized that the handcuffs were not even locked, and she went to escape, but I refused. I guess I had been "transformed" and "cured". She accused me of going mainstream, and that it wouldn't last long, and that I would be begging her to let me back into the cult. I kept insisting I had changed, that I had been cured, all due to the kindness of my rehabilitator psychologist. Anyway, she bolted.

Since I had been doing great in my recovery, I was offered the chance to go back in time and erase what had happened, but live a different life. So I chose to go back and be a teacher in the high school I had once terrorized. So I'm now there and other members of the cult were there and also teachers at the school. Erin, I think you taught gym. And apparently my boyfriend was alive and well and teaching history (you'd think I care that he was alive again). So everything is good, until Erin and I realized that the high school has fake walls, and behind it we see the raunchy feminist graffito, but disguised with a new wall facade. Zing! We hadn't gone back in time at all! My kind psychologist had tried to create a fake reality for us! When I thought I was being deprogrammed, he had brainwashed into thinking we were in an alternate reality! Zing!

So that caused us to turn back into the crazy cult gang again to hunt him down (this consisted a lot of running through the streets looking for him, which will probably be edited from the film version). Finally we enlisted the help of an expert investigator, who I believed was played in my dream by Phillip Seymor Hoffman. So then together we tracked down the original psychologist and got our revenge. We all tried to pretend we lived normal lives and weren't in a cult, so we went around trying to do "normal person" activities but got all twitchy and had withdrawal like we were drug addicts or something. I had just decided to succumb to my urges to live as a cult member when some asshole freshman was screaming outside my window at 8 in the morning from his walk of shame.

So, pretty amazing, huh? This definitely sounds like the film version could be directed by either Larry Clark or Michel Gondry. Erin would play herself obviously, Jason Lewis could play himself, and I am thinking Daniel Radcliffe can play Brandon, and maybe Kate Winslet will play me.

Anyway, I wonder if one were to analyze this, what it would mean. Do I have an underlying desire to belong to a cult? Does my trashing of Filene's basement respresent my frustration with society's current obsession with consumerism? The possibilities are endless.

So I had the most vivid dream early this morning. I remember every detail. I was going to a campus interview at "Johms Hopkins University". Meaning, it didn't really look like it. I was there with about thirty other candidates. Keith from Six Feet Under was my host. But, mostly in the morning we just played on the campus playground, and then had to take a quiz on reading comprehension (wtf?). Most people got mad and left. We had a huge break, so me and a childhood friend went over to the mall, did some crystal meth, and went crazy and bought out the Weather Vane store. I also lost my briefcase, so I had to carry my stuff in a plastic shopping bag. When I finally got to the interview, a chunk of my hair fell out and basically it was this panel discussion with the current staff and I asked dumb questions. I remember thinking as my alarm went off that I had surely gotten the job. I rarely have such vivd dreams.

It's 4am and I can't go back to sleep because of a disturbing sleep about how I was framed for murder and sentenced to death row. Mind you, the death row I was on also had a mini-mall with a Victoria's Secret. I kept begging for my parents to get me a lawyer, and finally they did and my lawyer looked strangley like Patrick Dempsey. I'll never know if I actually got the chair, because a tow truck showed up outside my window and woke me up. My bedroom window is about 5 inches from the street and now that it is warm outside and the window is open, which is weird, because if someone is out on the street talking I'm practically in bed with them.Hey, remember the band Tonic? And this song? Love it!

Hey, anyone like Eels? I'm intrigued.