I am a poster girl with no poster
Due to my own stupidity and a few long tapes, I was up working until 1:30 a.m. last night. Today. Whatever. I totally blame that and the chocolate milk I had at 11:30 for the weird dreams I shall relate for your amusement and concern. Comments from the peanut gallery can already be heard in my head. Whoops, maybe I shouldn't admit that...
I dreamt I was in a big concert hall/theater that was kind of run down and worn, faded black seats, torn curtains, big holes in the roof that let in the afternoon light. The stage was dark creaky wood, and on it was a beat up grand piano. At the piano playing was Ray Charles/Mel Brooks (he kept changing back and forth. Yes, I know. It doesn't make any sense). He was playing a piece by Miles Davis on the piano. No, that doesn't make a lot of sense, either. I was turning pages for him. Yes, he was blind. Sometimes. When he wasn't Mel Brooks. He asked me to ask my brother, who was sitting in the audience chairs with my dad (no one else was there, this was a rehearsal) if he thought he could add that last bit of improv onto the piece, because he had just gone completely off music and was just playing around, but wanted my brother to either play it or transcribe it, I wasn't sure which. I kind of coughed. I said I could ask him. So I walked down from the stage and told Quinn what Ray/Mel had said, and gave him the stack of music. But I didn't remember what song it was. Quinn kind of laughed, in that way that says oh, crap, and took the music. Ray/Mel was wearing what looked to be khaki pedal pusher pants as he sat at the piano. But then he was definitely Mel Brooks, and he walked up to me, having changed into different dark brown pants, and said "I figured out what that noise was. It was bats." I looked up, and there were bats nesting in the roof, near the big holes. I smiled and said "Oh, good. Yay, bats." He said "You like bats?" I said, "Yes, bats are these little, fuzzy, furry..." and I gestured to show fuzzy, furry, little, and flying, and ran out of words to be articulate with, and felt stupid. Mel Brooks sort of smiled and nodded at me, and walked away, thinking I was crazy. I felt even more stupid. But then I looked up and saw bats flying, and felt happier.
There was a woman walking her big fluffy black husky dog, training him. She was trying to train him to not pull on the leash without yanking on him and yelling. There was a trainer helping her. I was the woman, and I was the dog trainer that was watching them, and I was me. I walked up to the dog trainer, and she asked me if I'd borrowed her pants. And I told her that Mel Brooks must have borrowed them, because it was hot, and I'd thought it was odd he was wearing those pants. I laughed and said "Dude! Mel Brooks totally wore your pants! He couldn't have borrowed mine, because they would have been too long." I just thought it was cool Mel Brooks had borrowed her pants. Then I was going to meet a boy, and I was in high school, and I changed into a pull over flowered brown dress that looked a little like a 30s house dress, badly wrinkled, and really ugly dark brown nylons. And no shoes. And as I ran around feeling the nylons run and rub on my feet, I thought, I should have picked out shoes. But I didn't want to get caught making out in the dressing room, so I was meeting the boy in the marshes ( a little scenery borrowed from Arcata for the dream) because I thought it would be more romantic. And less with the getting caught. But I had to sneak off campus first. In my brown dress and torn nylons.
And then I was driving, and playing on the radio and somehow on TV and somehow in the neighborhood around me, was the song "Cake, Glorious Cake" (surprisingly *not* to the tune of "Food, glorious food," it was more like a hymn, but the tune is gone now.) sung by the Simpsons in an episode, all about how cake affects the weather. (Yes, I am crazy. You can shut up now.) And I was so surprised and laughing so hard, that I missed my turn and had to go around the block. And I heard Homer sing a line asking "What does cake have to do with Oxygen," and Lisa singing something about how cake makes the air flow differently, and I don't know what all. I knew I had to get a copy of that song for
bhagwanxbecause of his love for cake. (That part is true. Just ask him.) So I was desperately seeking access to the interwebs for to get him a copy. And I was surrounded by some type of collection of his, little black and silver boxes that had statues or something in them, and I had to go through them a little to find a computer, and I knew I wasn't quite putting them back properly and he might get mad. But I figured he'd forgive me if I could get him the Glorious Cake song.
I woke up almost convinced it was a real song, and then thought, wow, I really do need to get to the interwebs, for to tell this dream out before I forget it. I am completely crazy. Good to know. I had a lot of trouble waking up this morning. I meant to get here (the office) as close to 730 as possible because I have to leave early today for the basement waterproofing people. Um, got here at 930. ish. Which is when I'm supposed to get here normally. That was as close to 730 as I could manage. How sad is that?
The night before I had a dream about a jungle, and bad empire-like government personages, and huge gorilla/elephants, the biggest one was my father, and I was a gorilla/elephant child, and my father was going to have to come down on the goverment people and punish them for doing something, and there was rain, and a bar made of bamboo, and mud, and most of it's gone now. But the jungle was lush, the rain was unsurprising image-wise, and the gorilla/elephants were very, very large. And scary. And I got in trouble for spying on my father and his goverment-crushing fu.
Random note: due to crafty things I am doing for some xmas presents, the tips of my left thumb and forefinger are completely numb. Have been for two days. I think maybe I'll move on to other crafting for a bit, so as to get that feeling back. Homemade xmas presents are hard on the body.
Did I mention that I was crazy? Because I think that should be stated quite clearly for everyone's safety.