I'm overdue to update you on my dreaming life.
January 22, 2008:
I was yelling at my mother, "It's been eight years since you died! Stop telling me how to live my life!" We were talking about my dating life while in the car deciding which ferry to take across Lake Champlain from New York to Vermont.
January 9, 2008:
I was back in New Mexico, and in my two weeks there I was stressed out about how early I should wake up so that I could get done what I needed to. But late at night this fellow I was dating would keep me up. He looked kind of like Robert the cop on Everybody Loves Raymond. But he and Robert (my cop whom I was dating in real life) had dated in the past. It was this fellow’s birthday. We were in a public building of some sort, and I think the room we were in had lockers. Eric and someone else were there to celebrate his birthday with us, but they ended up watching and cheering us on while we had sex for the first time. I was worried that my butt was dirty because I hadn’t been digesting very well. He poured way too much lube, and then I complained it was too much, during which Eric eagerly ran away and came back with a container to take half of it home for himself. The other person was some girl, maybe this cholla that the real Robert and I know in real life. I felt awkward people were watching, but just as we got started, I came like a hose without even touching myself. The fellow made some joke about what Robert (the real one) would do if he had been there, and I felt insecure that I wasn’t as sexually open minded as they had been together.
January 6, 2008:
I was with someone in a park, and I had a toy that I would wind up, and it would play classic songs. I held it against a tree, and we enjoyed the way I based us at the tree, and that was a romantic thing. I wanted to take the chip out of the toy and make something new with it. As the dream progressed, “I” wasn’t me anymore, but my father. I was convincing the guy on the date to live with me, wooing him, and I would talk about my stories of the Old West. The guy had all his belongings with him, in the park, and his father, too, I think. At one point I sat down far away from him, and so he just assumed he would have to move all his stuff over to me. But I walked to him to show that I wasn’t seriously being selfish. We were listening to “It’s All Coming Back To Me Now” by Celine Dion, but it wasn't coming from the toy.
I was at school in the writing program with everyone else, except the environment looked completely different. I can’t think of a place that it compares to. Maybe Room 359 in the Oxy library, or Inez Elementary School, where I briefly attended. The light came into the room in a specific way that meant the windows were facing south. I felt I was being taken advantage of by my fellow students for giving out too much personal information about myself all the time. Jenny Mitchell (in real life a former student of my writing program) walked in late, and I took her hostage so to speak. I was trying to find something that people took from me, and I felt her up in every which way. She was telling everyone to file rape charges. But later when I explained myself she wasn’t offended at all.
January 5, 2008:
I was in Alaska to see Mike Gravel speak. He was on an iceberg, and a huge audience watched from the shore. I was stuck on the iceberg, too. Some pre-teen singer kid performed after he spoke, and the iceberg would tip in every which way. I kept getting tossed underwater, and the audience didn't take much notice as I swam around below the singer.
December 15?, 2007:
I dreamt that my grandmother and mother met Robert. They were both homophobic, and then my grandmother said “Oh, he’s the top?” and then they both felt relieved and so much better about him and my sexuality.
December 2, 2007:
I was at Terence’s house (a guy I once dated). In addition to his usual roommates, he was also living with Alex S (my ex-boyfriend), Bordeaux (Alex's boyfriend) and Michael Pisaro (one of my music professors). I was shocked and delighted. The place was multistory and in Long Beach. It looked like one of those San Francisco Painted Lady houses, except spirally. Maybe the same dream, or maybe it was later when I was napping. Still in Long Beach. I was with several people. It was kinda post-apocalyptic and we were having to climb walls and run across freeways to get to where we were headed. I wound up on a beach, and Anna Oxygen was there. It was neat how chairs were sitting on sand underwater, but the water was placid and transparent enough that it almost wasn’t there. And these little strips of dirt were like underwater walkways. Anna introduced me to several girls who looked like the ones in my friend Jennifer’s dance troupe Body City. We were talking real estate about these cute little floating huts along a roped bridge above the same pretty water. I had my camera out and was photographing them.
November 20, 2007:
We were leaving the mall. My cousin Richard and my nephew Jamie were now father and son. They had a stand for various foods. Chicken that you pick with your hands like fruit. They were on a boat, and had many tasks to do, leaning it over and letting down the surface on which we were standing in a wheel-turning moiotion. When we went down for the arrival, all was fine, but Jamie was new at it, so everyone was a bit nervous. But it was Richard who made it go too far, and Uncle Rom and Aunt Sheila fell off the back side of it. Uncle Ron looked okay, and then as he was reaching and wedging himself up, he fell backwards and banged his head on concrete before falling even farther in.
November 16, 2007:
I went into the house realizing a bunch of people were about to come in. I didn’t want them to realize my mother was dead, so I went into the kitchen, where my mother was making food, and I told her she needed to make them see her. As each person walked in, she did some weird very fake looking spell casting like from "Bewitched," and they would say “hi” to her casually. The layout of the house in the dream was very accurate to how it actually is set up. At some point this situation became a party, and everyone had paired up. Alex Castle and I started making out.
Another dream I had earlier this morning: I was living in Albuquerque, but it was much more populous. I was walking around to get my errands done. I was at some bank or restaurant or somewhere. I complained that the lady in front of me was slow, and then she told me I could go elsewhere. And then a security guy and I got into a fight. I definitely didn’t lose the fight but still had to go elsewhere.
November 5, 2007:
The dream was like a movie or TV show, taking place in the old house I grew up in. My mother was dead, and I missed her, but I suspected maybe I could talk to her if I tried. I was lying on the floor or looking between couch cushions when she came and said she was still around. When she left, someone else in the house said “bye” to her, but my father couldn’t see her. It left this thought that maybe she was only dead to certain people. Some old rich man came to the house—someone’s father—along with other guests. The rich man used something of my mother’s, a fingernail clipper maybe, and then kept it for himself. I told him he had to give it back, and I got very upset because it was something my mother left when she died. Then, suddenly, he was choking and being held in positions that inferred like in a movie that a ghost was doing it. At some point he was laid out dead on the floor.
Older people saying 60s houses were called Kitsch Style, and that it was my style. And 70s houses were called Punk Style. And we were maybe in Old Town Pasadena, and we walked by a New England looking house with some circular designs, and they called it Japanese Style.
November 3, 2007:
A bunch of people came over to my house, including Katie, Brett and some big tough guys, including the ones I kicked in the face at the party last week (real life event). They were all here to antagonize me actually, and after the big guys were threatening me, Katie would say “and we’re not friends anymore!” We ended up on some kind of hill where there was a party or congregating of people.
October 15, 2007:
I had this new boyfriend, and he was slightly overweight, but that wasn’t a problem. He was in the writing program, and the moment we met I was so tired as I was going to class that I was mostly naked as a protest. And then we went over to the pool, which was a lot more elegant than it is in real life. And it was maybe night time but it looked like broad daylight and there was a security guard, but he either didn’t see us behind that bush or didn’t care. And we just kind of fell into the position of sex. And then there was a nasty earthquake, and the water in the pool was moving in waves the way it would. We walked around and enjoyed the way the world seemed in motion. A helicopter, perhaps for safety warnings, flew above us with a spotlight, but it got caught on a telephone pole and wrapped around it on some kind of cord. When it was still it was hanging upside down and probably really damaged. Then we went walking and I found Katie and Brett and others, and I had to give everyone a ride home.
October 13, 2007:
I had a gay cousin named "Wiscunsin." My grandmother was spelling his name to me over the phone, and he lives in North Carolina. I was hoping she said South Carolina.
I was working a special role in some kind of banquet. I had to help carry platters back up the stairs like I was one of the demons hosting it. Everyone thought we had super powers. But one of us really did, and I wasn’t sure whom.
October 10, 2007:
I went to a party uninvited, and they had a giant pizza and cut me a slice that was five feet long. I was acting shy and brooding because there were guys there that I liked.
Kalu was dead and then he’d come back to life.
We were living far out in the desert, and I was home visiting for Christmas. My parents remodeled in such a way that I had to move from where I was writing to let them change things. We had just celebrated my birthday and then my mother redid everything to celebrate Christmas. I wasn’t satisfied with my birthday, but then there were suddenly all these Christmas presents. My birthday party was yet to happen though, and I had one day left, so that evening I was expecting guests. Someone pulled into the driveway and bumped into my father’s white car. I could see it was this Asian woman who had been stalking me. Then she went into reverse and smashed through the window to my room. I chased after her barefoot through broken glass to get the license plate numbers. It was a California plate. I could read the first two-or-so numbers, and she drove really fast around the house. I decided to go backwards and see the license plate by tricking her. The license plate was in full view, and then she turned around and pointed a gun at me.
October 5, 2007:
My hedgehog Kalu and some guy I was in love with were flying off a tower.
October 4, 2007:
I was at Daiana’s house, and she was writing a poem using musical notation as a starting point. It had words on long lines going across the page, and musical indicators in boxes at certain measure breaks. There was some kind of criminal act that was being taken care of, and a police officer pulled over to solve the situation. This was just outside Daiana’s apartment, and we watched from the second floor balcony. The officer pulled out his gun and aimed it at the criminal, but then turned it to his own head and shot. And then he said something like, “who wants to come with me?” And fired at all the onlookers. I dropped to the floor of the balcony and crawled, worrying that the farther back from the balcony ledge I got, the easier I would be to hit. But it was the opposite (which would be true in real life). I waited until the police officer’s own blow to the head would finlly bring him down and cease the firing.
Julia and I were at someone’s house, lying on segments of a bed with an animal, maybe Kalu. She chose to lie down between me and the animal, and for most of the dream I was bothered that her butt was in my face.
Chris and family were visiting me and my parents in an apartment we apparently had to move into. I was being clever and quick and felt that I was surprising and impressing Amy with my humor. Jamie acted like a little kid and would interrupt what I was doing or tell me a related story to something I was saying even though it wasn’t. (Like my professor Michael Pisaro’s son during our meetings in real life.) I kept accidentally breaking my camera, and Chris insisted it was his, as if that were okay. I pulled all these little bits out of the carpet hoping one was the camera piece I dropped. The apartment was small, and I felt embarrassed.September 19, 2007:
Some members of a program from school (Integrated Media or creative writing maybe) slept over at my house. As we were waking up, I noticed others had come in through the night, such as my friend Katie and people she brought. She and her group were sleeping standing up in poses exactly like how they appeared when they arrived. Eventually the room filled up with the class, and my father was up and being funny. I don’t know how it correlated with our house, but the room basically looked like the Integrated Media room at school, except it was connected to little offshoots that were houselike. My father was like some kind of entertainer all of a sudden, and everyone was cheering for him after every time he’d yell out from some obscure place. I said “where is he?” and the people sitting on the floor all pointed towards a closet area to the side of the big open white space where they were sitting. There was this weird chest-like cave area like something from Disneyland with crazy colored lights pouring out of it. I felt really bored with the routine as I opened it, knowign exactly what would happen. My father flew out and did weird smoke, light and magic tricks that looked really produced while making his typical humor.
Afterwards I was talking about Kansas with two country girls in Integrated Media who seemed to really hit it off, as well as this other one with a Southern accent. I told the Southern girl how I was jealous of the first two girls, and then I suggested maybe she and I could be like the first two. The whole time we were talking with our faces really close like we were going to kiss. I was implying that she and I were both country girls, and then she said she was, even though she was from Chicago. And I wasn’t really from Kansas but was trying to impress her. She had a face mask on that had letters of some writing in cursive that couldn’t be read from her face, and the mask had the American flag on it in a cheesy way, as though it should say “god bless America." She had beautiful platinum blonde hair. We were about to kiss, and she seemed really into it, but then she left me there because she needed to talk to others.
September 9, 2007:
Apparently I had forgotten all about the fact that I had made other living situation plans a long time ago in case the current one (in real life) didn’t work out. My professor Sara Roberts was supposed to be my roommate, and we chose a very small apartment closer to the west side, either near UCLA or in West Hollywood. But we had to share a bedroom. The room had this depressingly empty, grey feeling, like a small back room of a house. Then, something about watching a movie, except it was a live video feed of our own burglary about to happen, and I kept rewinding so that it wouldn't happen.
September 7, 2007:
I was at an art gallery and Anna Magnusson was there. She showed me her art work. There was a sculpture, which looked more like a terrain. It seemed like planes of paintings that formed a topographical re-creation, but they were made of icing. At this point she started to become Daiana for a little bit. She told me to try any colors I wanted, and they all looked so tasty. Then I asked if I could steal her idea, and she said I could as long as it wasn’t an exact copy. Then she showed me another piece she made, which was a trough of fluid that smelt like cake, and was called cake. (Similar to a mixed drink recipe Katie talks about in real life.)
September 4, 2007:
I was with a guy and also Oprah. I kept stretching a wig over her head that made it look like she had a crew cut. It looked good and real on her, and I said she should wear it all the time, but she didn’t like it. Sometimes I’d grab the end of it from the front of her head and stretch it over my knees, and Oprah would get upset and say she couldn’t see anything.
September 3, 2007:
I brought my father with me to class. He kept raising his hand and asking questions that were completely unrelated to anything, and it finally made me so mad that I started yelling at him. Then, Michael Near (a medieval English professor at my undergrad) appeared and scolded me for being rude to my father. And then I yelled at him and told him to mind his own business. Later, I apologized to Michael Near, and we hugged. The hug lasted a really long time, and it was difficult getting him off me.
August 31, 2007:
My family moved in across the street from my childhood friend Ronnie’s house in the cul-de-sac where the Marksteiners (a family of Catholic military Republicans in real life) also once lived. We lived in the house where this old friendly man used to live (in real life) and who recently died (also in real life). I was up in a tree when Ronnie saw me through her window and then I needed help down. Also up there were some man and his kid, and I was being friendly and smiling to them. The man looked at me like I might need his help getting down, and I looked to him like I definitely needed his help. In the end, I think he did help me, but I also think I just fell to the street. Someone else moved in next to Ronnie, maybe Quinn? I was excited that we were all living so close. I had a party, and some fifty people showed up, and we all hung out outside. Then, either police or weather forced us all to go under a porch with only enough room that we had to lie down. I woke up a few hours later, and we were all still under there. Then I went on a date and came back and most people had left. I was really disappointed they had left.
Later, my mother had come home to that same house. I confronted her about the fact (of the dream) that she left me alone for several years as a child. She wouldn’t be sympathetic about it, and she was barely receptive to my hugs. But she would listen to me, and we went walking while talking about it. We got in a bus from behind, almost like an ambulance, and I shouted to the whole bus that my mother was a bad parent. My mother stayed silent. One lady was kind of giving me a “so what?” reaction, saying that her mother was a bad parent, too. Sometimes in the dream my mother was briefly my grandmother. Throughout the dream it was implied that my mother left me alone as a kid because she wanted to party and drink during the times she was gone.
August 18, 2007:
I cuddled with Melora (a cat I used to have) inside the dryer.
August 16, 2007:
Matthew Hodgson (my ex's ex after me) put old desserts under lacquer instead of throwing them away.
I climbed up a tree in a park, to get away from something, and I saw a huge amount of strange giants living in a neighboring tree, that no one could ever see from below.
I ended up at Katie's house, I think unannounced, just walking around in it, and some guy had moved in, and they were cuddling on the couch when I happened past them. (In reality, Katie recently posted a blog that sounded like she was in love with a guy.)
There was a baby that just came out (maybe of me?), and the guy who was nearest to me said that it was unsalvageable. The baby was tiny, like the size of my finger. It ran away. It turned into a cat that I was looking for, worried that people would steal it, since it was so pretty. In the morning, there were several cats, but I knew which was the one.
August 7, 2007:
My father and I were in Connecticut visiting my brother Chris and his family, and then my father wanted to go back to New Mexico, but my guilty conscience told me we should visit my grandmother in Vermont before she dies. And I was really just being lazy and wanting to go home and do nothing back in New Mexico. But since I was making a vacation movie, I thought it’d be a waste of film to end it now. When we got there, it turned out she had just died, so then my father was waiting outside in the tiniest sports car rental, the size of one of those remote control cars, and he was ready to floor it.
Somehow I ended up in Flagstaff and was waiting for my father to pick me up along the side of the freeway in a strip of land between the freeway and a tall fence. There were corpses of dead animals, types of diseases that only existed there, famous murder spots, a very long fence of death and danger. There were graffitied words, long quotes, that made the spot well-known. The local church just got out of service, it must have been a Sunday at noon, and some lady came out to convert me. I told her about my fears being there, and she and I hugged. I guess my father would usually pick me up at this location. Then, we went inside, and just as I was reading about “dirtnadoes,” one happened. Because it was made from the ground, it was much stronger, and I feared it would rip the roof off the church. I could hear it sear across the roof. The lady said no one had ever died from one, and I told her that I experienced one of those every time I passed through the town. The church in the dream then became my CalArts dorm, except almost everyone was black, and I kept going into people’s rooms and looking at their stuff and sometimes photographing it. The bathrooms were full of self-portraits, all of them looked like they were drawn while the people were outside the diagonal windows toward the ceiling with their heads poking in and facing downwards into the bathrooms. Everyone shaded the drawings of themselves with green and purple marker. They had a list of those who didn’t put up artwork, and at the top of the list were Stephen van Dyck and Tod Jackson, followed by Tony (my friend Leah’s ex-boyfriend). One black guy was being funny and hanging from really high in his drawing, and I looked above to where he must have been when it was drawn, and then the dream flashed back to when he drew it, and he almost fell.
July 30, 2007:
Katie and I were photographing the Albuquerque sunrise, even though it was where the sun sets. Then we were at CalArts, but the building was skyscraper-sized. We found someone’s dead body and were going to save it for some kind of art project of mine, but then they caught us and told us to put it in a bag immediately and give it to them. The body had a carrot lodged in its forehead, the reason of death, and I unconsciously took the carrot out and started chewing on it. When I realized I was eating it I got really grossed out.
July 29, 2007:
I was in Austin, Texas, out of some kind of persuasion by Tanner (this guy I know from online in my awake life). When I was there we went to a museum that wasn’t the same as the one I went to when I visited (in reality I never went to one). He was constantly groping me and trying to find a place where we could have sex. At some point, I think we were north of the Bay Area, yet still at the museum. Tanner became Alex G (guy I was dating at the time), and later RuPaul in male form. There were amusement park rides underground, and we stood waiting in line for our ride. It was as though we were waiting in line on the side of the freeway at night, and heavy traffic was going around a giant loop. The dream ended when a truck went right at me.
July 25, 2007:
School started, and I had another Hillary Kapan class. We had to fill out some worksheet, and he didn’t think I did much work on mine. Then other students started standing up for me, saying I had written a poem on it that was deep in meaning.
I accidentally went into some lady’s house when I thought it was mine. Then she followed me curiously to my place. It was Los Angeles, and it was snowing a lot, and I was rolling around in it out on the sidewalk.
I ran into Mrs. Marksteiner (Catholic military Republican woman who was the mother of childhood friends I used to have), but she was the lady from Home Improvement now, and Tim Allen was waiting at the curb. I really wanted to tell her I was gay, just to get her reaction, but she kept kissing me, and I liked it, and we might have made out.
We were driving around the West, and we came to an amazing city that was like a missing link between Louisiana and the Southwest. All these New Orleans-style old steeple buildings were sitting amid a valley next to a giant ragged stone cliff. Each building had its own clay or rock formation growing out of it like they had been covered in rock and then the rock mostly eroded off, but not all. The town was called something like Voy-Korsakov, it was in southwest Kansas, and it was around popularion 10,000 and in the desert.
July 21, 2007:
I visited Amarantha in Orange County (she doesn't actually live there), and she had all these little creatures crawling all over body. I got the impression she made them in Taiwan. One of them had wing-like horns and a third snouty horn on his face, looking much like a statue I made when I was twelve in real life. It had two spirits in one body though, so it had a double-word name. Two others were counterparts to each other—shared a spirit—and their names combined made a single word. They didn’t move on their own; they just kind of knew what Amarantha wanted them to do. I was skeptical that maybe Amarantha was claymation-animating the creatures, even though she was with us in person. I think Katie and Brett were both with me when we visited. Tucker Neel was in the dream, and he had tortellini hair.
July 1, 2007:
Jerry’s brother Craig was back, but he had changed his name to Ben, and either he just got back from Thailand or we were living there and he arrive there, too. Jerry was sharing bunk beds with him. He had had surgery to get piercings across his chest so that it seemed almost like a heavy long metal clamp had come down on him. He had a board going across his pelvic region, and penis going through the board, with two others installed at either end, but possibly rotten.
Later I went with Valerie and Jerry to a Nine Inch Nails concert, and each audience member was given a square platform seat to sit on. I left my bag by the hallway wall. It disappeared when I wasn’t looking. By that point, everyone had moved onward, and it was like a giant museum installation. I was alone in the room and it seemed as though Trent Reznor was still performing on that stage, which was so small it might as well have been a video. Looking for my bag, I walked around through the halls and rooms as though I were in a gallery. There were huge displays of candy, and large wall videos that Trent had made. The music was more like art-music, like the music I make. It was as though I had stepped into an artsy Chocolate Factory kind of place.
June 28, 2007:
It was the first day of class for fall 2007 at CalArts. I slept in and at the last minute chose a random class to attend because I was so lazy. In class, I sat down next to Nate (a guy I know through David Feldman whom I think has HIV, although that aspect of him wasn’t true in the dream). He and I talked a lot, and he distracted me from my worries about not knowing what classes I was taking. Every now and again, the professor—a woman whom I admired a lot, but I can’t remember whom—interrupted our talking because she realized I wasn’t doing the meditation position that everyone else was following. By this point in the dream, the guy and I were on a large bed in the back-center of the room, hiding under a comforter so that she wouldn’t notice that we weren’t paying attention. And we had sex in there. And later, we woke up, and everyone was gone, but we were in the house of some girl from the class named Annie, and it turned out she was friends with Katie before moving to North Carolina and Quebec and finally here. And Nate knew her too, although I think he had morphed into someone else by this point.
June 26, 2007:
It was a sunny, warm day, and Katie and I were in front of CalArts singing and dancing really gleefully in a circle with people we barely knew. Some kind of event had happened, I presume some sort of graduation event. Anna Oxygen walked up to us, kind of looking distracted yet wanting to acknowledge everyone’s presence (the way she usually does). I waved and called to her, and she responded smilingly, and then I told her she should join us, which I knew was something she’d really like. “Are you sure it’s okay if I join?” she asked politely. Then, Katie intercepted Anna’s question with “No, it’s not.” And then I said “Yes, she can join us.” And then Katie said, in a very assertive way, “no, she can’t.” And right at that moment, with one hand already holding one of Katie’s, I grabbed her other hand and started swinging her in the air in circles above my head. I kept swinging her and swinging her around and around, and then I walked over to an area that seemed like it was under either a gazebo or an overpass—something that formed a kind of outdoor ceiling with the front of CalArts. And then I let go of Katie and she flew into a top corner inside the ceiling and burst explosively into dust.
Dreamt that my old dog DJ was erect. And I gave Katie a disease through an inky pen.
June 4, 2007:
Alex and Bordeaux were finally moving, and I had to come back to LA to face the new reality. The apartment was a disaster where one room had been divided up amongst people and had boxes upon boxes of my clothes sitting like cubbies against walls with maybe one pair of socks in one, or two pairs of pants in another. I had just taken a nap after driving home from Pasadena, where I witnessed a gay group (support group?) meet from afar in a parking lot. Or it was just some guys who were friends. Actually, all I remember is walking into a parking lot and seeing cars full of guys (parked) staring back at me like I was invading. And now that I had napped, the landlord reminded me that I was expecting a call from Alex because Bordeaux had already left from Vietnam, and now Alex, some Mexican guy and I were going to have a threesome. And now Amarantha had come to pick me up to take me out, and then we turned back when we realized neither of us had money on us. The whole dream had a strong 2002 feeling.
May 29, 2007:
Dream within a dream:
Reality: Sleeping on an air-mattress in Dallas with Katie.
Dream: Sleeping on an air-mattress in Dallas with Katie.
Dream within a dream: Raped by a woman.
Dream: Afraid of waking Katie.
May 20, 2007:
I was in a house with Eric on a second floor, and I came all over myself. I put up one of those electric hail Mary signs at the base of the fancy master bedroom jacuzzi. It was early, but I knew Alex S’s mother was awake and around, and probably already saw me naked walking into the bathroom. And in there, I was suddenly with Channon and Tiffany (these obese girls I dated in middle school in real life) in a hot tub. They had made a special kind of drink, tea maybe? It was reminiscent of the jelloshot Anna Magnusson gave me last evening (in real life), but in liquid form. I said to Channon, “remember when we were 13?” Then I turned to Tiffany and said, “remember when we were 12?” And then I kept going back and forth until I hit zero. And then I said something like, “remember Tod?” And then Channon said something that implied that Tod was the square-root of six. Then people started showing up with towels who joined us in the hot tub who resembled CalArts undergrads. They heard us talking about Tod, and asked if we knew some girl. They said she hung out with Tod. I was worried that they knew who Tod was because of his wild ways and that I had been too much of a gossip in my blog.
And before that, I dreamt something about walking around the blocks in Santa Monica in the right order to be in style.
May 13, 2007:
My father was offered some kind of land deal in these green mountains under low hanging clouds in Tibet, although I’m skeptical that it was actually Tennessee. I was at Occidental (my undergrad) and could see one project from a site-specific class from CalArts ESP students from last year going on. One was happening on the roof of a building with a courtyard that doesn’t actually exist, right next to the library. And then Anna Oxygen’s project involved rollerblading alongside traffic on roads in Hollywood, and we were following her in a car. She was singing a cheesy early 90s dance song with backup skaters, and then it went into a store. At this point, something was directed at me, and I was no longer in a car, just walking, with no transition.
May 7, 2007:
I was in a class where the teacher, who was a combination between my mother, Sara Roberts (my mentor) and Cass (my cousin Amarantha's step-mother), or actually might have just been my friend Anna Schmitt’s mother, was in the other room digging up information while I told the other students to ask me questions about my childhood or geography trivia. When she came back, she described what she would usually teach in her 4th grade classes (or a year like that), saying that I would sing and was good at the music theory. Then she announced the first award goes to Katie for singing. And then the second and third awards went to me for other things.
May 6, 2007:
Alex S. showed me photos he took of a 1950s style hotel or lodge (101 Diner-style) where he took boulders and set them on the brick pillars of a fence going in front of the place. On the boulders he had each letter of a word—I forgot what the word was. It only had six or so letters and directly addressed the difference or contrast within the photo.
April 19, 2007:
Alex Castle said something to me that rhymed. Something like “I didn’t contribute to the cookie fund / I didn’t make fudge or have any fun.”
April 17, 2007:
I was with Alex S (my ex). We were on a ship just off the coast of L.A. There was a weird touristy attraction to climb down this tube and stand on a precarious rubber boaty thing from the ship. It was about as clear in the dream as in my explanation. I kept worrying that it'd drift far away, so I insisted Alex join me going on it. The ocean was stormy, and we climbed through a rubber tube like in a playground, except it was large enough that we could stand. And when we got on the boaty thing, it broke off from the main boat. It was no longer protected from water and drifted away from the coast. Then, it hit a point where it was static, and at this certain point, the water wasn't water anymore, but snow-glazed dirt-like-looking. Apparently, when you get far enough out to sea, the water no longer moves. It hasn't broken off to hit the coast. And the dream was very silent at this point. I could see mountains that would later become waves, and a water tower. It looked like New Mexico in winter.
April 16, 2007:
I was with my parents in our old house where I lived from ages 6 to 14. We had been selling the house to Chris—in reality my father is selling the more recent house to Chris but will still live in it—and Chris was apparently also moving in. I asked my father about the other house (the one he actually lives in in real life), because apparently we had both. We parked in the right side of the driveway—two vans and my father’s white car were on the left—came in through the garage to find a note left by Chris. Immediately my mother led my father into my father’s old bathroom. I heard them talking, and my mother was remorseful to Chris. I was in the kitchen trying to figure out why any of this was happening. I finally went to where they were, and I approached walking backwards to give Chris respect, but there were mirrors on all sides of me. He told me it didn’t matter, so I looked over. He was a fit-bodied Asian man with a nice tan, lots of tattoos and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. The wall that would have been facing the park from the room in real life was instead a large window showing a cave-like spot that the house created by being U-shaped. Some Mexican guy was walking into there, and I pounded on the window telling him to leave. He responded in Spanish, not understanding me. I said, “salgas!” which I didn’t think was correct in the dream. He said, “no, tu salgas!” And then he was threatening me and my family. Everyone else didn’t really care to notice, except my mother who calmly said I shouldn’t have said anything. The guy said he would get us later.
I got lost in a mall and ended up on the roof.
1 comment:
It is the truth.
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