Ent Adventures

1-18-17
I was some kind of adventurer, currently out on a quest with a giant sentient tree (much like a Tolkien Ent). He wasn't giant when we had started out and over all that time, we had grown quite fond of each other. I think our present quest was to locate and procure a certain rare flower. 

We were growing ever closer to our goal, and had recently arisen from camping for the night. We were in a terraced area, like a steppe farm for flower gardens, that was surrounded by dilapidated apartment buildings. The apartments were so old and crumbling that they had a n ancient beauty to them. The Ent turned to me and confided that he had a fatal condition, akin to a contagious, cancerous tree rot. A part of him had died from it already but he had contracted it again during our travels. I was both upset by his secrecy and devastated at the impending loss of a friend. He conveyed to me that these were his laser moments, but that I could find a sapling from his very bark here in these gardens. I made him promise that it was true as I slid down his trunk torso and down one weighty tree leg. He affirmed slowly and in the deep ent voice before he fell. 

His fall downed half of the flowers in the area and, due to the different staggered levels of gardens, he slid away and into a small valley. 

I called upon my other adventurer friends to begin a frantic search for the tiny sapling. 

Candy Hearts

1-14-17

It looked to me like a very wide hallway at an upscale mall - tan tile flooring, floor to ceiling windows comprising one wall, and all of it shiny clean.  There was music piping in over a speaker system and a few people milling around, including a comical fellow on a small unicycle.  I'm there with my mother.

This particular place isn't a mall hallway, but rather a store.  Display cases are lined up in the shape of an oval with a hollow center.  They're the kind where only the top part is glass and the bottom is for storage.  Each houses a different type of sweet treat that are twists of old favorites.  I'm asking my mother to read the label signs to me, pointing at what looks like a giant peanut butter ball covered with a layer of chocolate.  She's giving me grief about eating such horrible things.  I tell her that I'd much rather eat popcorn as a giant popcorn cart rolls by, being pushed by a Zach Galafanakis character.

Next I'm standing alone and have realized that I have a missed call on my phone.  The caller ID shows a number and area code that I don't recognize, and the contact name as "❤️." I'm listening to the associated voicemail and recognize the voice instantly as Jett.  That's when I realize that she, somehow, must have changed her name in my phone to a heart emoji.  The voicemil says that she will be in St. Louis shortly and can't wait to see "the little man," referencing my almost 6 month old son.  I haven't invited her and have no idea where she got the idea that this would be ok.

Storming Off

1-9-17

A group of us are in this giant theater bigger than any I've ever seen there are more screens than I can count and the experience is going to be similar to IMAX. The seats have full backs to them with speakers jutting out to the sides of where your ears will be. The stadium seating is so staggered that your feet are behind the prior row's headrests. It is fun but nothing has started yet. We are at our seats but many others are still just coming in. 

Nathan is seated to my left, but I'm standing. I'm indignant about something. Something is amiss, and I'm incredibly upset that he doesn't seem to give even the slightest hint of a care. I'd be making a scene, but no one is paying any attention to us. 

I ask him how he can not care. I'm in disbelief and terribly hurt. I convey to him that if he doesn't start giving a shit, I'm going to leave. He doesn't even look at me, but I can tell he is flippantly amused. He asks how I'm possibly going to leave without a car. My mind spins, somehow not having considered this incredibly obvious obstacle. It's that big of a deal to me, though, so I answer that I'll find a way. I storm off in the most dramatic way that I can muster.

The next thing I k ow, I'm at our hotel/Air B&B/lodging of some sort. It's a very spacious and open house with lots of shiny beige tile. I've gathered my things and am leaving. I don't know where I'm going or how I'm going to get there. I leave the house and enter an impossibly long corridor in which the walls are made of glass. Outside the corridor is nothing but endless ocean waters. There is no land as far as the eye can see. I start walking. 

Cat Rescue & Nerf-meat Wars

12-13-15
It was the hottest part of summer, and I was at a block party.  The setting is a city that has seen better days; it has a little bit of grit and decay, but there's also a sense of safety and community.  The block party is taking place on a residential city street, with long folding tables lined up end-to-end.  Upon checking out the table containing all of the food, I found that there was hardly anything left.  A few pretzels and tortilla chips swam in their respective bowls, and a sparse smattering of other things were strewn about, but nothing was up my alley.  I took some pistachios back with me to the table, sitting next to a few girls around my age.  I was new in town, and as I sat there with my pistachios, one of the girls decided to make her friend and take me under her wing, so to speak.  We sit very close to each other, our chairs touching, like we'd known each other for years and were thick as thieves.

Some time later, I'm wandering around the city streets with a few of the aforementioned girls.  We round a corner were some kind of pharmacy or convenience store sits, and in the middle of the busy sidewalk, I spot Gandalf (my husband's cat when he lived at home) and Xena (brother-in-law's cat when at home).  The ears of both cats are drooping and folded over.  They are panting hard.  I'm immediately stricken with shock by the sight of them.  This is devastating, seeing them in this state.

I erupt in a frenzy, shouting at my friends that they need water.  I look around, frantically, not knowing how to provide the cats with saucers of cold water.  One of the girls turns her opaque white plastic cup, and dribbles water straight onto the sidewalk.  The desperate cats greedily lap up the streams of water and lick the damp sidewalk.  My mind races: 'There must be some place I can take them.  They have to get out of this heat...'  One of the girls knows of an abandoned foreclosure.  The house has been long forgotten, and will be a safe place for them, for now.

Gandalf (bottom) & Xena (top)

I take Gandalf and Xena to the house and into a room that is in shambles.  There is a sectional sofa that is at the end of it's rope, a filthy kitchenette covered in litter, and several TVs attached to the very top of the walls where they meet the ceiling. Torn paper and other debris is everywhere. There are a handful of other cats taking up residence here, as well, and I recognize a couple of them from their days in the shelter where I work.  I sort through dirty, food-encrusted dishes in the sink until I find a few cleaner ones, and fill them with food and water for the cats.

Having provided food, water, and shelter, I get on the archaic desktop computer that sits on a desk right next to the sectional.  Using the headphones that have a gaming mic, I Skype my husband.  I get through, but there's something wrong with the connection, and he can't hear me well at all.  I'm trying to tell him what's going on.  Struggling at the computer, I stop what I'm doing when the four TVs simultaneously turn on.  All the noise from the TVs will further hinder my husband from hearing me, so I then turn my attention to getting the TVs turned off.  The remote works, but the TVs won't turn off.  I try turning the volume all the way down, pressing mute, punching random buttons... but I'm having no luck.  That's when Nathan walks through the door.  I hadn't noticed that he'd left our Skype session.  He's carrying a giant cylindrical box fan, as if he had intuited how stuffy and hot the room had become.  Easily, he turns the fan on and the TVs off.

Electronic crises aside, I plead with him to consider the plight of the kitties.  I point out a long-haired white cat with gray splotches.  He's a good cat, and I know him from the shelter, I just loose his name while begging.  He doesn't give me a concrete answer, and instead points out that we need to get Gandalf and Xena back home before anything else.  I continue to plead with him, telling him that if I can foster some of the other cats in the room that he will never know they're there and we'll only keep them until they have homes.

I continue to plead my case as we leave the room, and enter the main hallway of the home.  He is skeptical and not committing to any answer.  I notice that the hallway and the rest of the foreclosed house is nicely furnished and not nearly as torn apart as the room we just left.

The next thing I know, we've returned to the house, and are standing outside.  It sits at the end of a row of houses, each with a pathway across a canal that separates the front lawns from the street.  We are met by a looming, tank-top clad thug.  Like a hood rat bouncer, he refuses to allow us entry to the house.  After some squabbling, I acquiesce and tell him that I really don't care, that I just want my cats.  The thug shouts to a lackey inside the house, and I suddenly remember the white and gray cat's name.  "Haven!" I yell as an addition to the thug's commands.  The lackey emerges, carelessly holding a cat, but it is not one that I recognize.



12-14 nap
The setting includes a sprawling, green outdoor landscape as well as a very large and very modern building that might be a country club.  There is a massive game going on between two teams.  They are playing a game akin to paintball, but with Nerf guns.  The twist is that,instead of Nerf darts or paintballs, the ammo is some kind of strange, loose meatloaf.


I'm not in on the game, but when I find an errant gun, I join as a rogue element.  Without a team, I shoot anyone and everyone, and I'm quite good.  To reload the gun, you have to pick up meatloaf from off the ground, roll it back into a ball, and place it in your gun.

Waifs & Wraiths

I'm not sure if it was my dream that scared the crap out of me, or the fact that I awoke from it due to the sensation of someone touching my left big toe. Once again, I can't remember the beginning, but I remember the last half.  This is one of those dreams where I'm not actually in it, but I can see everything and I can feel what everyone is feeling.  Kind of like a "third-person omniscient" perspective, for my literary friends.

12-8 

Kaonashi in "Spirited Away"

The setting is some sort of health institution, either a nursing home or a hospital.  There is a woman in her 40's or 50's, a young woman (maybe early teens), and a shadowy figure.  I don't know who the older woman is, but I feel like we are very close.  I feel like she is someone special to me, like a loved one.  The shadowy figure in the doorway is a tall black waif with a white face, much like Kaonashi (from "Spirited Away), but with a more slender face and wider eyes.  This waif also has long, stick-straight black hair streaked with dove-white.  It is not menacing or ominous, despite it's appearance.  When this waif places it's white, paddle-like hands upon you, you pain and sadness are lifted from you and replaced by an easy sense of euphoria.

Wraith

There are also creatures that are the opposites of these waifs.  I am not certain what evil they wreak.  The sinister creatures are similarly dressed head-to-toe in black draping, wearing a hood reminiscent of a wraith.  Their face is hidden and obscured by darkness; you cannot see any part of them within the cloak.

The woman in the nursing home/hospital makes those around her sad and filled with pity.  She is exhibiting strange symptoms in that the hard palate of her mouth is splitting to form a gap along the middle.  This gap indicates a correlating space forming between the right and left hemispheres of her brain.  As a consequence of these symptoms, her face will slowly begin to protrude from around her nose.  What everyone in this setting (except, perhaps, the waifs and wraiths) is unaware of is that all of these symptoms indicate that she is turning into a waif.

The younger girl become inconsolable, sobbing with intense emotional distress that I can feel.  She runs from the room, across the hall, and into the hallway of the room directly opposite the previous one.  Soundlessly, mouth forever slack, the waif follows.  It floats across the floor and appears quickly, but is not startling.  It looks down at the girl wracked with sobs, and a wraith floats slowly past in the hallway, paying no mind.

"Help me," the girl says to the waif through her tears. The way she says it is like the emotional pain is literally unbearable.  The waif lifts her up with large paddle hands, and relief washes over her as the pain from within dissipates.  Like a sledding down a snow-covered hill, she reaches complacency, and begins to slide further towards the inevitable euphoria.  A little bit of it trickles in at a time.  Right before the surge, I wake up.

Supeer(natural) Hero(ine)

I don't remember much from this one, but I'll do my best.
As a side note, I've had memorable, vivid dreams during every nighttime sleep and every nap.  I don't know what has brought it on, though.


12-6
Starting from where I remember, I'm in a two-story house that is seemingly unoccupied.  The furnishings are antique, and everything appears in shades of grey and lackluster blue.  I'm attempting to escape from the supernatural beings/monsters that are inside.

Ian Somerhalder as Damon Salvatore

Once outside, I learn of a rumor that Damon (Ian Somerhalder from "The Vampire Diaries") has betrayed and thus seriously offended my brother, Ben.  I do not have a brother named Ben, nor did Damon do anything to offend this mystery sibling.  I'm seriously conufsed at the accusations, and panic as Ben has placed a bounty on Damon's head.  

The supernatural villians from within the house trickle out, all of them after Damon.  I order him to get behind me, with the intent of protecting him.  Snarling, menacing creatures approach, but dare not harm me to get to him.  I see people I once knew, now turned to vampires and other supernatural beings, their faces darkened with gothic makeup.  Damon stays close behind me.  So close that I can feel him pressing against my back.

I warily make my way through the string of villians, and end up back in my living room.  Damon pours me one of his bottles of booze, brown and fragrant like in the show, into two tumblers and hands one to me.  We sit on my couch together, and I take a swig.  I cough and make a face, describing to him how awful the taste is.  I'm anxious and figety, wondering if I should tell him that I'm in love with him.

I'm not legitimately in love with the fictional character of Damon Salvatore, nor the real life actor that is Ian Somerhalder.  It is true, however, that I find him mightily scrumptious - he's one of my favorite TV actors.

Dreaming about an Ex, but it's the Animals the Break My Heart

Much more vivid dreams recently.  Last night's were sad and/or depressing.  First one was between 11 pm and 4 am.  Second one was between 5 am and 10 am.

12-5-15
#1 - Strange Ex Encounter
I was shopping at clothing store where everything was my style.  The store itself wasn't very fancy, with industrially short blue carpet and off-white walls.  One of those gateways that beeps when you steal something was placed at the entrance.  I had made a purchase and was giving one last look at some black leather bags near the front of the store when I notice a guy walk in.  He presses a button right near the door.  Initially, I'm alarmed.  He's facing away from the store, standing in the doorway, and has pressed a round red button.  What???  A moment later, I realize he has pressed the delivery pick-up button.  It is still strange because this is a clothing store... what would he have ordered for take-out??

I continue to watch as he is given a parcel in a plastic bag, and realize that I know him - it is Stely.  I stay among the bags until he is out the door, and then follow him.  By the time I reach the sidewalk outside, he is crossing the street, weaving through traffic.  He stops on the opposite sidewalk, and I holler his name.  He looks for the source of the holler, but the wrong way.  He is looking down the street.  I call out again.  He looks the other way, up the street.  I keep calling his name, waving my arms now, until he sees me.  He turns and spots me, his face remaining bleak, and I'm not sure if he'll ignore me or cross back.

The next thing I know, we're walking side by side on the sidewalk.  It's a downtown area that has seen some wear-and-tear.  I'm asking him what happened.  "Did you assume I'd Break up with you after not hearing from you for two weeks?" I ask indignantly.  He tells me about how his life has taken a turn for the worse.  He had to take a job at $16 an hour, and that only adds up to $7000 a year.  He explains that money is extremely tight - he doesn't always have enough to buy food.

As we continue to walk and talk in this melancholy way, I feel frustration but it has become diluted with pity.  I let him drive my car to take me home, since I don't drive anymore.  In the car, I extend an invitation to come up when we get there, telling him that I can offer him some good homestyle eats.  He somberly declines.

Somehow, We end up at a movie, but it is being shown in some sort of clinic.  We're in metal folding chairs with floor-to-ceiling windows behind the movie screen.  The floor is linoleum and there is a reception desk of sorts off to the right.  I remember a few scenes, all of them very weird.  In one, a man is quite gassy, and his friends keep lighting his burps and flatulence until the flames travel up to his face, inevitably killing him.  In another, a thief is about to steal a seemingly empty red car.  The owner is actually in the back seat, boiking his mistress.  The thief plops something heavy on the hood of the car, and the owner, thinking he's been caught, sneaks his mistress out of the passenger door of his 2-door coupe.  He sits in the passenger seat, feigning nonchalance. The thief slides into the driver's seat, and the owner turns to look.  As he does, the thief deftly turns the man's head forward with two hands, snapping his neck.

He did that way too easily, we agree as we critique the movie.I've been eating a McDonald's cheeseburger during the film, and I look at the last few bites in the wrapper.  I consider offering it to Stely, but decide that it might offend him. A conversations starts up about what town we are in.  I ask if that city is in Utah, but my audience is a group of geographically-challenged stoners.  I decide that we are actually in Colorado, and show the stoners a digital map of the western states.

I get dropped off at my college townhouse, but inside it is my current home.  I've left a saucepan on the stove - cornflakes in milk are simmering, but they've been doing so all day long.  Oops!  I try to switch the burner off, and the flame fluctuates, but won't extinguish.  I try to blow out the flame; it flickers and then grows larger.  A low flame starts to spread across the stove top.  Easing an oncoming panic, I realize I have a fire extinguisher, and spray the stove top with the foamy substance.  This seems to do the trick, but the burner still won't lose it's flame, and the fire continues to relight and spread.

I try the fire extinguisher again, and realize that one of the spots isn't a flame at all, but a red dot of light.  It's a laser pointer light!  That must be what's causing all the issues... It must be relighting the flame... Right?  Fearful of who might be shining a laser pointer into my house, I duck down behind the kitchen island with my fire extinguisher.

What is peculiar about this dream (besides the obvious) is Stely (name replaced).  He is an ex-boyfriend, as the dream suggests, but we didn't break up in this manner.  Also, he passed away in the mid-2000's.

12-5-15 #2 - Pet Store Heartbreak

I was at a large chain pet supply store, like PetCo or PetsMart.  Many such places have an area of adoptable pets, and the shelter I work with was partnering with this store.  I'm out in the aisles, and there are puppies out and running around.  They aren't escapees.  They're not out on accident.  Regardless, I'm chasing after them and trying to corral them.  They are knocking things over and weaselling their way to the back of display racks, and I'm fishing them out and righting things.  It's all in good humor, and the puppies are super cute.

I walk down the strip mall from the store previously mentioned.  There is a second chain pet supply store, but it isn't associate with the shelter I work with.  Rather, it is associated with the local humane society.  I'm with my parents, and my mother really wants to take an innocent look at the puppies in this second location.

Not long after we walk in, my mom reports that there is a 250 lb dog in the humane society's care that they plan to put down if he is not adopted. She says she may call someone (I forget the name) to see if they can take the dog.  Already, I'm disappointed and distraught.

There's a separate room where they have the pets.  The walls are dark, the cages are too small, and all of the animals seem listless.  It seems as though every cage has too many animals for the space.  I see a litter of kittens crammed into a tiny glass cage.  None of them are playing or wrestling, and instead the litter is sitting upright, staring out without a sound.  A mixed-up litter of puppies is in one cage that is lined with hamster bedding.  One of the puppies is all scratched up and wobbly on his legs.  He can barely stand, and I think to myself that I'm not sure if he's going to make it.  My devastation plunges further.

We open a door on the opposite side of the room to steps going down to an area of similar aesthetic with more animals.  The steps are wide glass fish tanks full of fish.  I descend the stairs and look back to encourage Murphy (my last dog, now in doggy heaven) to follow.  He is apprehensive and anxious in that he is not sure how to get to me.  He doesn't realize that the fish tanks are solid stairs.  Seeing this, I attempt to reassure him, telling him that it's okay, but after a bit of anxious hesitation, he turns tail and bolts.


In the downstairs room, immediately to the right, there sits a round metal cage with glass walls.  It is the size of the ferret/chinchilla habitat you'd see at a PetCo.  Inside, there are two penguins, barely fitting in the enclosure with the tops of their heads poking out of the water and their faces obscured by the rim of the cage.  My world is rocked as I hit rock bottom.  What in the world...?!  The penguins move nothing but their beaks as they listlessly chew on shredded fish meal.  This was the last depressing straw.  My heart couldn't take it - so I woke up.


I consider both of these as A-ok weirdo dreams that end up terribly, in the form of a nightmare.  No good.