jaelie: (Default)
Weird (but fun) dream last night:

The dream started out with me as a normal person who had been kidnapped by some crazy dude who looked a lot like Steve Buscemi. I was being held in a room in an insane asylum. I was keeping a journal, and apparently I had several books worth of journals so I had been a captive for quite some time.

At one point I was rescued by some "angels." Apparently there exsisted a secret world. Of course there was. I mean, really, I love White Wolf games, so this one is no surprise to me. Anyway, this secret world had two different types of supernaturals. Kind of like angels versus undead. I call them "angels" because they had feathered wings and could fly (plus they had this glowy golden aura sometimes), but I don't know that they were specifically angels. They had a "good" agenda, though. The undead were a bit like spiders in that they could run up walls and across ceilings, and could leap crazy distances, but not fly. The undead outnumbered the angels and were winning.

My rescuers turned me into one of the angels (I have no idea how that worked out). They turned me so I could help rescue another angel. We were hiding out in some concrete steam-punky looking catacombs underneath a huge warehouse, where they told me what was going on. I had to disguise myself as one of the undead to rescue the other angel (a child) they had captured. Myself and another angel went - we had an illusion that could alter appearances, but not entirely, so our wings looked like wire coat hangers with feathers glued to them in a kind of disdainful mockery of the angel wings.

We met up with the undead on a roof top in some gothic-stylized city. Very picturesque. Myself and the other angel had pretended to "climb" up the wall ala the spider-walk that the undead did, and met some undead there. The child was there, too, and we argued over the kid. The arguement escalated into a fight and during the fight, of course, our true nature was revealed. Then it got nasty. And very cinematic.

I woke up at some point during the fight. I think we were winning. Darned alarm clock.

Writing all this out makes me see some definite movie themes in this dream. The insane asylum room looked remarkably like the hotel room from The Lost Room. The theme with the angels versus the undead reminds me kind of the Russian movies Night Watch and its sequel Day Watch. Nifty.
jaelie: (ReaperCon04)
There really isn't much to update since I last posted.

One week of not much. Now, mind, I'm not complaining. Not much means no upheavals, be they emotional, mental, or physical. However, it also means no stretching, no motion, no advance.

Just.... stillness.

Perhaps the cold front brought this lethargy when it blew in a few days ago. My only motivation is to curl up under a heavy blanket and cuddle next to my husband's radiating warmth.

Read a book.

Drink some warm, tasty tea.

And yet I wake up to the insistent whrr of my four-legged companion, stumble out of my warm bed and into my fluffy robe. Blearily I stagger down the hall, around the corner, through the dining room and to the back door to let the persistent pup out for his morning romp on the dry, yellowed grass and his very worn dirt track around the perimeter of the yard.

While he runs his laps, I sit on the cold concrete and wrap my arms around my legs and listen to the morning. Soon he comes dancing back to me, tail flying, smiling and ready for his cookie, which I give to him not bothering to stifle my laugh. Inside, he still whrrs, though, because now he wants his walk. I scratch him, and then stumble to the shower, then get ready for work.

I need to get up earlier so we can walk, especially now that the weather is so nice. Sunny and cold, with a slight breeze. He dances every time I lift his leash, and I smile at his antics.

At work, I make a list of things to do. While taking care of the more menial tasks, I daydream about living in the country, distanced physically from people, but in some odd sense still connected to family and friends.

I daydream of the simple, harder life of living on a farm, taking care of animals, learning to garden, enjoying fresh air and long, lazy evenings. Of watching my greyhound really get to stretch his legs and fly. Of sewing and making my own whimsical clothes, and wearing them because there is no one to please but myself.

Of actually seeing the stars.

It's not an idyll. I lived on a farm growing up, and know the commitments. But maybe it's the uncomplicated comfort of returning to my roots.

I daydream occasionally of children, too.

I love children. Babies, not so much, but children? Their open acceptance of others, their fanciful imaginations and delightful games of pretend. Their laughter, and even their tears. Reading to them, playing with them, comforting them, listening to them, talking to them, teaching them.

I'm not in a rush. It's something that will happen when it happens. Regardless of now or later, I think that maybe one day I'll be a good mother. I know that Matt will be an exemplary father, like his father before him.

I don't really know where I'm going with this, other than maybe putting dreams to words.
jaelie: (Default)
So this morning I had my first zombie dream ever. I don't even like zombie movies, so I am amused.

The dream was weird, pointless, and entertaining, as my dreams often are.


Things I understood in my dream: The zombies were originally created by an alien race that hovered over our planet in huge chrome egg-shaped ships. The alien-created zombies were mindless and controlled by the ships above them. The world was virtually covered in zombies and only a few humans remained. However, at some point, some of these zombies mutated into sentient, self-sufficient zombies with some vestiges of their old personality, except evil (of course). These intelligent zombies could control the mindless ones. When the aliens realized they could not control the zombies any longer, they just left. The world was in chaos.

Ok, things that happened in my dream...

I was standing alone in an enormously wide, vividly green, open field very much like the plains of Kansas. The sky was dark gray and stormy, and I stared up at the sky watching the silver egg-ships leave.

Another scene I remember was hiding in an old World War II concrete bunker, evading a zombie king and his countless minions.

I traveled the world with Matt trying to find other living survivors. We were able to basically drive a car until it ran out of gas, unless a gas station was near. At one point, we were refilling at a gas station and one of those smart zombies showed up with her cadre of mindless goons. Matt hosed them down with gas directly from the nozzle and as soon as he shut the gas off, I lit 'em up. We drove away, with a huge, blasting explosion behind us.

Oh, and for some reason, we were in Russia driving south with our final hopeful destination being Australia, because apparently there were less zombies there.
jaelie: (Default)
I lived in a large, older home from around the late 1800s. It was at the top of a hill, and I shared the home with the mayor and her ten-year-old(ish) son. I had the third floor all to myself. The first floor had a foyer, a formal dining and a parlor in the front, then a kitchen and a breakfast room, a sun room and a bathroom in the back. The second floor was the mayor's. I don't recall everything, but at some point there was this huge flood that washed through the city, but since we were at the top of a hill it only went up about two feet around the outside of our house. We stuffed towels etc in all the cracks and kept most of the water on the outside.

When all the water abated, the mayor went out to check on her citizens. Unfortunately, all the villans came out, as well, to loot and plunder the flooded homes. I was upstairs in my suite looking out the window when I saw five of them eyeing our house from the sidewalk in front. I went to my closet, got out my shotgun and went downstairs. By the time I got there, they had already come in the back door. I warned them that if they didn't leave, I would shoot. They didn't. So I worked the action of the shotgun (with difficulty, heh, which was realistic enough) and waited for them to come into the dining room from the kitchen.

I woke up at some point during the ensuing gun fight to my beep-beeping alarm.

Too bad Matt wasn't awake. Heh.
jaelie: (Default)
These are some amusing anecdotes that my sister and Matt have shared with me:

Growing up, my sister and I shared a room. One night, when we were teenagers, she came in, and not wanting to make noise if I was sleeping, asked me softly, "Jay, are you awake?"

"Yes," I responded, not moving in my bed. "Now shut up and help me put out the fire."

Another night, many years later, Matt was reading next to me as I slept. I rolled over and started mumbling. Amused, he stopped reading and listened. Apparently I said enough that he gathered that in my dream, I was sneaking around and had stopped at a door that led to a basement. He asked me if I was going to go in.

"No, you go first!"

I think he almost died from trying not to laugh out loud.

And most recently, again, Matt was reading as I slept. I rolled over and said, quite clearly, "I think those explode!"

October 2016

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