The Chordettes were on crack.
Last night I had possibly the most disturbing dream ever. In it, I was lying in bed, drifting between being awake and asleep, my eyes half-closed, a pale bit of moonlight drifting in through the hideously ugly curtains. (Sadly, those are real and not part of the nightmare.) I had my hands tucked under the covers and was just drifting off to sleep when suddenly a HALF-DOZEN RATS scampered up over my body, right over my hands, under my chin, and down behind the other side of the bed. I yelped and started out of bed--only I was really awake now, yelping and starting out of bed. The line between dream and reality was so thin that I had to go hide in the bathroom for fifteen minutes before I was calm enough to spend any concerted time in the bedroom. Even now, I think I’d be half-convinced that I’d momentarily enacted out a choice scene from 1984 were it not for the fact that there is no space between my bed and the wall--nowhere for them to have gone. This was small comfort, especially at three o’clock in the morning.
So I got up and wrote more pony!fic, and also a few other comment ficlets that I’m going to clean up and post later. But first, I have to tell you about the three other dreams I had before the rats one--busy night last night, eh, subconscious?
First I dreamt that I was on LiveJournal, and all of you were convinced that I was dead. (Um, I’m not, by the way. Just clarifying: this post? Does not come from beyond the grave. It comes from Ireland.) Rather than do something sensible like log on and post a helpful HI! STILL ALIVE! or even a NOT DEAD--PINING FOR THE FJORDS! I just sat there, helplessly wringing my hands. So, yeah: dream me? Not too bright.
Then I dreamt that I was having a discussion with my father in which he was telling me something important about my brother, Daniel. Only about halfway through he stopped talking about Daniel my bother and started talking about Daniel Jackson and how his love for Jack O’Neill was so pure OMG! And I was like, jeeze, that isn’t even my fandom, get a clue, pops!
And then I had this really disturbing and sexually explicit dream about Ford. It started out with me trick-or-treating in my old neighborhood in Vermont. I was with a friend--I think this girl Vanessa, who I haven’t talked to since I was, like, 12--and we were knocking on doors in this housing development that I want to call St. Charles Place, except that’s a space in Monopoly and clearly I’m confused. ANYWAY...we were innocently trick-or-treating when suddenly I was KIDNAPPED! I was taken to a mysterious government facility (Yes, in Vermont. I know, dream logic doesn’t make any sense.) where I was dressed in a fashionable nightie and strapped to a table where I’m sure I was eventually going to be experimented on. But before they could do anything, I escaped! I snuck out a back door (I don’t know how I got out of the restraints--apparently, I have amazing contortionist powers!) and, ouchy irony! Immediately got kidnapped AGAIN, this time by creepy post-enzyme Ford, who had also apparently stolen Devon’s van. (That’d be Dingoes Ate My Baby Devon. A mini-crossover, whee!)
Anyway, Ford’s evil plan seemed to involve driving me to my old preschool. He parked and made me get out, at which point a guy with a gun (who oddly enough looked exactly like Ford--a fact that none of us acknowledged) leapt out from behind some bushes and started threatening to kill Ford. I, having apparently developed the world’s quickest case of Stockholm Syndrome, dove in front of the gun and begged the attacker to spare Ford’s life. Then the guy laughed and turned to Ford: “Hey, glad I could help you out, man.” Ford then explained that he had hired the guy to threaten him as a way to test me, and I had indeed proved that I was loyal. “Oh, goody!” I said (or something like it). “Let’s have sex then!”
So we started getting it on in the grass in front of my old preschool. I ripped off Ford’s shirt to reveal the disturbing sight of a horrible series of scars and pustules--after effects of the enzyme, apparently. Undeterred, I opened Ford’s pants and proceeded to give him a brisk handjob. He came and--okay, you might want to stop reading now, because this is gross and I apologize--his come burned, literally scorched my skin; I had to go put my hands out in a mudpuddle. Leaning over and looking at my newly scarred palms, I thought, “Oh, come on! I have a little bit of sex and I’m punished right away? WTF?” (See, I told you it was a crossover with Buffy!)
So, yeah. My brain is weird.
Now, I was going to post a couple of dream-themed songs, but then I remembered that I made a Sandman mix a while ago--for monanotlisa, I think? And I never sent it to you? (I’m sorry!) Well, anyway: in that case, I figure there’s no reason why anybody who wants it shouldn’t get to enjoy it, especially after sitting through all this blather. So here it is:
A Handful of Dust - A Sandman Mix
1. Mr. Sandman - The Chordettes
2. Cole’s First Dream - Paul Buckmaster
3. Paco De Renaldo’s Dream - Tindersticks
4. Red Dresses - John Murphy
5. Asleep - The Smiths
6. Sleepwalk - B.J. Cole
7. Dreamboat - Mirah
8. Cole’s Second Dream - Paul Buckmaster
9. Dream a Little Dream of Me - Dean Martin
10. The Thinner the Air - Cocteau Twins
11. Bird Dream of the Olympus Mons - The Pixies
12. Jim’s Dream - John Murphy
13. Once Upon a Daydream - The Police
14. Lux Aeterna - Clint Mansell
15. Cole’s Third Dream - Paul Buckmaster
16. (I’ll Love You) Till the End of the World - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
17. Tom Tom’s Dream - The MDH Band
18. Blue Moon - Cowboy Junkies
19. Last Night Sleep - CAN
20. The Dream Theme - The Edge
21. Sleep - The Dandy Warhols
22. Cole’s Fourth Dream - Paul Buckmaster
23. All I Do Is Dream of You - Arthur Freed & Nacio Herb Brown
24. Suite from ‘Restless’ - Christophe Beck
25. Death’s Door - Depeche Mode
26. Dreamers Awake - Paul Buckmaster
And yes, while that looks like a lot of tracks, it does actually fit on a standard 80-minute blank CD.
.zip file OMG, this took sooooooo long to upload. *hates yousendit*
backup .zip
2nd backup .zip because I have to go to bed soon. *gulp*
Please let me know what you think! Or, y’know, when the file needs to be refreshed.
Oh yeah, and feel free to Freud me. *g*
ETA: Also, look at the AWESOME ICON siriaeve made me! Because JOHN IS THE CHOSEN ONE!!!
So I got up and wrote more pony!fic, and also a few other comment ficlets that I’m going to clean up and post later. But first, I have to tell you about the three other dreams I had before the rats one--busy night last night, eh, subconscious?
First I dreamt that I was on LiveJournal, and all of you were convinced that I was dead. (Um, I’m not, by the way. Just clarifying: this post? Does not come from beyond the grave. It comes from Ireland.) Rather than do something sensible like log on and post a helpful HI! STILL ALIVE! or even a NOT DEAD--PINING FOR THE FJORDS! I just sat there, helplessly wringing my hands. So, yeah: dream me? Not too bright.
Then I dreamt that I was having a discussion with my father in which he was telling me something important about my brother, Daniel. Only about halfway through he stopped talking about Daniel my bother and started talking about Daniel Jackson and how his love for Jack O’Neill was so pure OMG! And I was like, jeeze, that isn’t even my fandom, get a clue, pops!
And then I had this really disturbing and sexually explicit dream about Ford. It started out with me trick-or-treating in my old neighborhood in Vermont. I was with a friend--I think this girl Vanessa, who I haven’t talked to since I was, like, 12--and we were knocking on doors in this housing development that I want to call St. Charles Place, except that’s a space in Monopoly and clearly I’m confused. ANYWAY...we were innocently trick-or-treating when suddenly I was KIDNAPPED! I was taken to a mysterious government facility (Yes, in Vermont. I know, dream logic doesn’t make any sense.) where I was dressed in a fashionable nightie and strapped to a table where I’m sure I was eventually going to be experimented on. But before they could do anything, I escaped! I snuck out a back door (I don’t know how I got out of the restraints--apparently, I have amazing contortionist powers!) and, ouchy irony! Immediately got kidnapped AGAIN, this time by creepy post-enzyme Ford, who had also apparently stolen Devon’s van. (That’d be Dingoes Ate My Baby Devon. A mini-crossover, whee!)
Anyway, Ford’s evil plan seemed to involve driving me to my old preschool. He parked and made me get out, at which point a guy with a gun (who oddly enough looked exactly like Ford--a fact that none of us acknowledged) leapt out from behind some bushes and started threatening to kill Ford. I, having apparently developed the world’s quickest case of Stockholm Syndrome, dove in front of the gun and begged the attacker to spare Ford’s life. Then the guy laughed and turned to Ford: “Hey, glad I could help you out, man.” Ford then explained that he had hired the guy to threaten him as a way to test me, and I had indeed proved that I was loyal. “Oh, goody!” I said (or something like it). “Let’s have sex then!”
So we started getting it on in the grass in front of my old preschool. I ripped off Ford’s shirt to reveal the disturbing sight of a horrible series of scars and pustules--after effects of the enzyme, apparently. Undeterred, I opened Ford’s pants and proceeded to give him a brisk handjob. He came and--okay, you might want to stop reading now, because this is gross and I apologize--his come burned, literally scorched my skin; I had to go put my hands out in a mudpuddle. Leaning over and looking at my newly scarred palms, I thought, “Oh, come on! I have a little bit of sex and I’m punished right away? WTF?” (See, I told you it was a crossover with Buffy!)
So, yeah. My brain is weird.
Now, I was going to post a couple of dream-themed songs, but then I remembered that I made a Sandman mix a while ago--for monanotlisa, I think? And I never sent it to you? (I’m sorry!) Well, anyway: in that case, I figure there’s no reason why anybody who wants it shouldn’t get to enjoy it, especially after sitting through all this blather. So here it is:
A Handful of Dust - A Sandman Mix
1. Mr. Sandman - The Chordettes
2. Cole’s First Dream - Paul Buckmaster
3. Paco De Renaldo’s Dream - Tindersticks
4. Red Dresses - John Murphy
5. Asleep - The Smiths
6. Sleepwalk - B.J. Cole
7. Dreamboat - Mirah
8. Cole’s Second Dream - Paul Buckmaster
9. Dream a Little Dream of Me - Dean Martin
10. The Thinner the Air - Cocteau Twins
11. Bird Dream of the Olympus Mons - The Pixies
12. Jim’s Dream - John Murphy
13. Once Upon a Daydream - The Police
14. Lux Aeterna - Clint Mansell
15. Cole’s Third Dream - Paul Buckmaster
16. (I’ll Love You) Till the End of the World - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
17. Tom Tom’s Dream - The MDH Band
18. Blue Moon - Cowboy Junkies
19. Last Night Sleep - CAN
20. The Dream Theme - The Edge
21. Sleep - The Dandy Warhols
22. Cole’s Fourth Dream - Paul Buckmaster
23. All I Do Is Dream of You - Arthur Freed & Nacio Herb Brown
24. Suite from ‘Restless’ - Christophe Beck
25. Death’s Door - Depeche Mode
26. Dreamers Awake - Paul Buckmaster
And yes, while that looks like a lot of tracks, it does actually fit on a standard 80-minute blank CD.
.zip file OMG, this took sooooooo long to upload. *hates yousendit*
backup .zip
2nd backup .zip because I have to go to bed soon. *gulp*
Please let me know what you think! Or, y’know, when the file needs to be refreshed.
Oh yeah, and feel free to Freud me. *g*
ETA: Also, look at the AWESOME ICON siriaeve made me! Because JOHN IS THE CHOSEN ONE!!!