Not Quite the Cake-Taker But Still...
This has been a day of weird. I was alerted to morning relatively early--that is if you consider 6:15 early--when Steven hit play on the dvd player. The player Peter had been using last night and had left with the volume well into the 40's (normal movie watching range is 25 when you're trying to be considerate, 30 if you're alone in the house and eating, 35-40 if there's a large audience or godforbid background noises. Pete usually cranks it to like 47-50 when other people are around cuz he likes the fact that no one else can hear anything) So yeah, startled awake by the sound of loud disney themed opening credits.
Which brought the oddness of my dream to light.
So from what I can remember:
It was late, night had already fallen across the city, I was turning into a parking garage off lower lake st. I had arrived in the city to finish my leg of the charity set up for the next morning's event. My name proudly displayed on the sign in list by a simple 'Kat'. I was well enough known and expected that no other part of my name was needed. Others listed in alphabetical order by last name further down had kohl's or other ofiliations scribbled by their names. Erika was meeting me to take over, when I got there she was looking over an order form for some other fundraiser type thing. A male voice off to the side said 'What you didn't want the knives to go with the new baby?'. Erika laughed as she handed the order form back to him. As I came around the corner I realized that the voice was indeed one I recognized for it belonged to Jensen. (yeah, that Jensen). He proceeded to make some kind of crack about possibly being able to buy a kit to make your own baby in this particular broucher...and then immediately found the joke either distasteful or the thought of home-grown test-tube babies horrifying as you could tell from the going-to-be-sick look that crossed his face. 'Hey Erika' I said setting down the supplies I'd been carrying and taking the sign in sheet to look it over. Though still being highly aware of the extremely gorgeous man sitting almost out of place in the quiet afterhours office. I was going to inquire about the orderform being passed around when a sign between the computers caught my eye. Wedged in and upside down--green background with white lettering like a street sign--I still managed to find his name. John Davis. What the hell was that? And she showed me the new promotional signs; the backsides had old graphics for easter (only not retail easter but religious easter) and the newer adverts all clearly displayed John Davis' name as if he were personally giving out merchandise or going to personally make sure your credit application is approved..or whatever. I also remember vividly having an extreme adverse reaction to these signs as if they were proof of hell on earth.
I kinda think I blacked out or retreated into a weird panick mode as I thought about all the changes that the store has undergone since I left that seem to represent some sort of hellish downward spiral.
Then I came to and I was at an odd angle as I watched a pair of extremely hideous boots--a weird hybrid between workboot and cowboy boot--hit the pavement just after the black car came to a stop outside this downtown building. Two tall men (extremely so from my vantage point) walked up to the front of this building under cover of night and...talked with an older man who not only ran it but his family had been owners of this establishment since the Fire. Speaking of fire not long after the front windows shot out in flames. And then someone yelled cut...and I realized I was on a set. And yeah...
The next morning I was back there for the event and there was a extremely obnoxiously know-it-all girl outside the actual building that had insipired the set and she was talking about the real events that had happened here and how the owner of the building was actually a fairly well known important person and...blah, blah, blah. Oh how I tried to stop listening to her going on and on. Like someone in the town had won an award and been chosen to be in this random scene based on a true mystery. I was here for a charity gig and not some filming thing, but man were there fannish people now registered for the event. And here I'd been having a dilemma about if it would be weird for me to order something from Jensen's fundraiser sheet if I didn't have a place of work he could bring it to, and how I'd have to just put my cell number on it, and well if for whatever reason that was an issue he could call me from the store number. (yeah, i clearly remember having THAT thought before I realized there were fans running around). I found the form on a table (almost set up like at a silent auction) and realized that the knives he'd referenced were odd little collectors items that have the handles stamped with sports logos. As was the next item on the list being patches (some square some pennent shaped) that you could choose your sport logo. And I wondered genuinely if they were limited to certain sports. I remember seeing baseball and football logos, but I couldn't think of six logos (the number of each set) without branching out into like soccer or something. Anyway, I was going to ask when i opened the door to the now crowded office. (which seemed now to have been filled with random things found in my mother's room, like a photo of me on the wall--one that i was embarrassed by because I was making a severe face. As I was staring down someone famous or powerful, idk. And my ma had framed this shot because she was proud...but I was like oh my god why didn't i notice that picture on the wall before?
Anyway, so I'm kinda mortified, as now my own mother is coming around with hotdogs, and she offers one to Jensen and he spots me from across the room (it's really not that big) and says something else to her. And I make out something about no ketchup. And I make my way over and he just smiles at me and says 'you look like a hotdog girl' as he hands me a half made hotdog. Which I take, of course. He continues to put toppings on his own as he says something about my not liking ketchup. And I stammer something about my resolve being strong since I was 8. Which means I haven't had ketchup on a hot dog in 21 years. And i can't stop myself from talking about hotdogs, so I start eating before I've even found my way over to the tomatoes and cucumbers. And I'm slightly fascinated at the look on his face that seemed like he'd just done the math in his head. And... he went to say something but I don't know what it was going to be because there was this loud noise from up the stairwell that woke me very sharply.
Registering the dvd sounds and steven quickly turning the volume down I closed my eyes and the dream picked up only now I'd gotten my question about sports out and was saying something about football when I woke up for real laughing my ass off. Why would Jensen be selling stuff at a random Kohl's sponsored charity event, and then be delivering it to the store? No. seriously. I mean even now in retrospect I can go...oh well maybe he wasn't and I'd just misunderstood the scene I walked in on with him and Erika. And it really is all for some silent charity auction stuff, but still.
This is the second time I've had a dream about Jensen in Chicago, me being retarded and at a lack of words, weird food things and someone waking me up just before dream me finally figured out what she was doing.
(although last time I was awoken by my ma just as dream me was walking over to dream Jensen, this time I got through the first part of retarded ice breaking conversation before I was woken.)
*** Okay now, I totally get where Kohl's Charity Events came into play--(the MoD event last weekend fell through without me, even after I'd practically set it all up before I left), John being the devil isn't a far stretch considering that there was already a minor kohl's theme going on and well i keep hearing about changes and the store going to hell. The random bits with my ma...well two weeks ago when she was on SB we were talking about repainting and I realized there was a photo of me on her shelf from a time when I was much more sure of myself (though I wasn't staring anyone down). And well sports and hot dogs... it's getting to be summer. But how did Jensen wander so magically into my dream? Seriously.
I find it kind of oddly sweet that even in my dreams I'm not cool around certain people. And apparently I feel horribly torn about not being in charge of A-Team stuff. I'm glad I don't work for those self-serving sycophants but why can't someone take over the important things?
On a super weird kinda 'personal' note. I learned through a series of events today that my eldest brother was under the impression that bedrooms and the beds in them are exclusively meant for sleeping. And that 'knowing' happens somewhere else--though he didn't say where.
Is it wrong that I'm curious as to where. And baffled at how this revelation managed to slip by unknown for nearly 37 years?
Which brought the oddness of my dream to light.
So from what I can remember:
It was late, night had already fallen across the city, I was turning into a parking garage off lower lake st. I had arrived in the city to finish my leg of the charity set up for the next morning's event. My name proudly displayed on the sign in list by a simple 'Kat'. I was well enough known and expected that no other part of my name was needed. Others listed in alphabetical order by last name further down had kohl's or other ofiliations scribbled by their names. Erika was meeting me to take over, when I got there she was looking over an order form for some other fundraiser type thing. A male voice off to the side said 'What you didn't want the knives to go with the new baby?'. Erika laughed as she handed the order form back to him. As I came around the corner I realized that the voice was indeed one I recognized for it belonged to Jensen. (yeah, that Jensen). He proceeded to make some kind of crack about possibly being able to buy a kit to make your own baby in this particular broucher...and then immediately found the joke either distasteful or the thought of home-grown test-tube babies horrifying as you could tell from the going-to-be-sick look that crossed his face. 'Hey Erika' I said setting down the supplies I'd been carrying and taking the sign in sheet to look it over. Though still being highly aware of the extremely gorgeous man sitting almost out of place in the quiet afterhours office. I was going to inquire about the orderform being passed around when a sign between the computers caught my eye. Wedged in and upside down--green background with white lettering like a street sign--I still managed to find his name. John Davis. What the hell was that? And she showed me the new promotional signs; the backsides had old graphics for easter (only not retail easter but religious easter) and the newer adverts all clearly displayed John Davis' name as if he were personally giving out merchandise or going to personally make sure your credit application is approved..or whatever. I also remember vividly having an extreme adverse reaction to these signs as if they were proof of hell on earth.
I kinda think I blacked out or retreated into a weird panick mode as I thought about all the changes that the store has undergone since I left that seem to represent some sort of hellish downward spiral.
Then I came to and I was at an odd angle as I watched a pair of extremely hideous boots--a weird hybrid between workboot and cowboy boot--hit the pavement just after the black car came to a stop outside this downtown building. Two tall men (extremely so from my vantage point) walked up to the front of this building under cover of night and...talked with an older man who not only ran it but his family had been owners of this establishment since the Fire. Speaking of fire not long after the front windows shot out in flames. And then someone yelled cut...and I realized I was on a set. And yeah...
The next morning I was back there for the event and there was a extremely obnoxiously know-it-all girl outside the actual building that had insipired the set and she was talking about the real events that had happened here and how the owner of the building was actually a fairly well known important person and...blah, blah, blah. Oh how I tried to stop listening to her going on and on. Like someone in the town had won an award and been chosen to be in this random scene based on a true mystery. I was here for a charity gig and not some filming thing, but man were there fannish people now registered for the event. And here I'd been having a dilemma about if it would be weird for me to order something from Jensen's fundraiser sheet if I didn't have a place of work he could bring it to, and how I'd have to just put my cell number on it, and well if for whatever reason that was an issue he could call me from the store number. (yeah, i clearly remember having THAT thought before I realized there were fans running around). I found the form on a table (almost set up like at a silent auction) and realized that the knives he'd referenced were odd little collectors items that have the handles stamped with sports logos. As was the next item on the list being patches (some square some pennent shaped) that you could choose your sport logo. And I wondered genuinely if they were limited to certain sports. I remember seeing baseball and football logos, but I couldn't think of six logos (the number of each set) without branching out into like soccer or something. Anyway, I was going to ask when i opened the door to the now crowded office. (which seemed now to have been filled with random things found in my mother's room, like a photo of me on the wall--one that i was embarrassed by because I was making a severe face. As I was staring down someone famous or powerful, idk. And my ma had framed this shot because she was proud...but I was like oh my god why didn't i notice that picture on the wall before?
Anyway, so I'm kinda mortified, as now my own mother is coming around with hotdogs, and she offers one to Jensen and he spots me from across the room (it's really not that big) and says something else to her. And I make out something about no ketchup. And I make my way over and he just smiles at me and says 'you look like a hotdog girl' as he hands me a half made hotdog. Which I take, of course. He continues to put toppings on his own as he says something about my not liking ketchup. And I stammer something about my resolve being strong since I was 8. Which means I haven't had ketchup on a hot dog in 21 years. And i can't stop myself from talking about hotdogs, so I start eating before I've even found my way over to the tomatoes and cucumbers. And I'm slightly fascinated at the look on his face that seemed like he'd just done the math in his head. And... he went to say something but I don't know what it was going to be because there was this loud noise from up the stairwell that woke me very sharply.
Registering the dvd sounds and steven quickly turning the volume down I closed my eyes and the dream picked up only now I'd gotten my question about sports out and was saying something about football when I woke up for real laughing my ass off. Why would Jensen be selling stuff at a random Kohl's sponsored charity event, and then be delivering it to the store? No. seriously. I mean even now in retrospect I can go...oh well maybe he wasn't and I'd just misunderstood the scene I walked in on with him and Erika. And it really is all for some silent charity auction stuff, but still.
This is the second time I've had a dream about Jensen in Chicago, me being retarded and at a lack of words, weird food things and someone waking me up just before dream me finally figured out what she was doing.
(although last time I was awoken by my ma just as dream me was walking over to dream Jensen, this time I got through the first part of retarded ice breaking conversation before I was woken.)
*** Okay now, I totally get where Kohl's Charity Events came into play--(the MoD event last weekend fell through without me, even after I'd practically set it all up before I left), John being the devil isn't a far stretch considering that there was already a minor kohl's theme going on and well i keep hearing about changes and the store going to hell. The random bits with my ma...well two weeks ago when she was on SB we were talking about repainting and I realized there was a photo of me on her shelf from a time when I was much more sure of myself (though I wasn't staring anyone down). And well sports and hot dogs... it's getting to be summer. But how did Jensen wander so magically into my dream? Seriously.
I find it kind of oddly sweet that even in my dreams I'm not cool around certain people. And apparently I feel horribly torn about not being in charge of A-Team stuff. I'm glad I don't work for those self-serving sycophants but why can't someone take over the important things?
On a super weird kinda 'personal' note. I learned through a series of events today that my eldest brother was under the impression that bedrooms and the beds in them are exclusively meant for sleeping. And that 'knowing' happens somewhere else--though he didn't say where.
Is it wrong that I'm curious as to where. And baffled at how this revelation managed to slip by unknown for nearly 37 years?