Archive | November, 2018

Bad Dreams

28 Nov

I dreamed about a communal home, similar to that in my Nanowrimo novel, but the home was a large cave. Even though it was a cave, it had many rooms.

There was some drama. A tall young man found out that he didn’t belong at that communal home and had to move out. (That wouldn’t likely happen in the world of my novel, since it isn’t exclusively extended family.)


I had the front door closed and was expecting someone evil to arrive and try to get in.

He arrived and was yelling at me through the door. I knew that in order to make him completely vanish from this world, I had to throw salt at him. So even though the person who’d left a bit ago warned not to open the door, I grabbed a bag of salt and hesitantly opened the door very slightly.

Of course, he took that as an excuse to grab the door and my wrist and to try preventing me from throwing salt at him. He was young, short, skinny, and blond. He was manipulative and accusatory in a way reminiscent of Asshole Audrey. Because he had my wrist, I was having trouble trying to throw the salt–I was holding the bag with one hand and needed the other to throw it. He was a demon or something.

While he was yelling at me and holding my wrist, I exclaimed, “I just opened the door to throw salt out to protect the house!” As though I thought that if I explained this, he’d leave me alone.


I dreamed something involving an evil…entity or villain with a laugh similar to that of the Shadow from the old radio show. Orson Wells. Or maybe that wasn’t the villain although this sinister one was threatening and maybe blackmailing.

The opponent looked like Donald Sutherland in the 1970s and was suave and confident, not letting the other one have the satisfaction of intimidating him.

First, the laughing one came and yelled for his attention…in front of an open garage door, maybe?

But next, the setting was the top of a boat with really loud music, like a party was supposed to be happening, although there appeared to be no more than four people present. The boat seemed to be on land and surrounded by jungle.

Demonic laugh looked around… and Donald Sutherland appeared, wearing a dark blue or black velvet smoking jacket with dark trousers and an ascot. He was looking elegant and calm, with hands in his pockets as he casually strolled toward his opponent.

Costume Shop Dream

22 Nov

I worked in the costume department of a theater in that last dream. People bustled around a warehouse-like area.

At the end of the dream, I was with a small number of people in this narrow section with white countertops and maybe mirrors–I think it was a narrow section surrounded by a huge room.

A young woman (I think we were all young) came by with a paper bag full of stuff and a white receipt. She was talking about laundry for a specific show. She said, “I can’t believe how little they spent on laundry for that show.” I pictured a dry cleaner, but I was about to say that nobody did laundry for that show, when I looked up at the slip of white paper she’d taped up on the mirror across from us. It said $7.60.

That confused me. I went from believing there wasn’t a dry-cleaning bill for that show… to agreeing with her.

Another person in that little space with us was a very slender gay guy (also very young) with whom I was kind of obsessed. He had short, dark hair and was very pale. He was flaming and elegant and was that day wearing dark pink jeans–like cranberry-colored–and an off-white with cranberry dots (or some pattern) satin collared shirt. He wore a lot of make-up, maybe even a white foundation like a geisha or an 18th century aristocrat. He had a cute little purse that matched his outfit…but it was really a trinket box rather than a purse, and it was homemade, with an assemblage of little red things (such as tiny plastic animals) decorating all around the edge. He soon left, saying, “Goodbye, darlings,” to us (two females), and he left the trinket box behind, so I cheerfully was trying to close it (it was completely empty, an oval about six inches long, and looked like white cardstock inside). I struggled to make the top and bottom line up and close, because the assemblage was getting in the way.

He was really cool and charming and probably wasn’t as into me as I was into him, although when I was in my twenties, quite a few gay guys liked me.

(Yesterday, I was typing up a letter I’d written when I was a theater student. So many memories.)

Office Dream

11 Nov

I dreamed that I’d worked at an office where almost everyone hated me, a hostile environment. I was fired or laid off and was doing projects at home and feeling resentful about the job.

My one friend in that work environment had been a stout, young (30s), light-blond woman who worked at the front counter, so maybe she was a receptionist. The room she worked in was separate, in front of, the main office, a huge room with cubicles, where I had worked.

She visited me in my apartment and was kind and encouraging.

There was something that I had to do at that office. After talking with her, I went back to the office. I had a big cardboard box with red writing on it. I stopped at the front desk with this box in my arms, and I talked with the friend. I had the intention of going into the big room with all the hostile people, but now that I was there in that workplace, I was terrified of going in.

Dreams of Empowerment and Stuff

3 Nov

I had a dream about several butch lesbians who were young (20s) and quite androgynous. I think we were college students, maybe coworkers. There were at least 2 asshole boys, probably jocks, who kept harassing us and trying to scare us.

The place looked like the basement of a building, a school. There was a long hallway, and the room where we gathered was kind of long and had a long table in the center, where we sat and talked. I had been more butch myself but toward the end had shoulder-length black hair. We all had dark hair.

The assholes would jump in through the doorway of that room to scare us.

On the last day in the dream, one of the assholes was lurking in the hallway just outside the room, and as though I was switching back and forth between omniscient and one person’s perspective, I kept going back and forth between being that girl chatting in the room with Sykes, and seeing the asshole goofing off in the hallway. He was dancing on a table on wheels that rolled down the hallway and back. I knew he was planning on sneaking up on us, while 3 of us were In the room talking about how those assholes kept bothering us. I was very anxious, thinking they wanted to harm us and expecting something bad to happen any minute. And the assholes were so smug and arrogant, so self-entitled.

At some point, there were several people in front of a coat closet in the hallway, and they included at least one conventionally attractive young blond woman.


I had a dream involving a cute little pig at a park along with a fat, short-haired, middle-aged woman who, after she greeted the pig and touched its nose with her finger, developed an ability to fly. She was delighted, as she slowly started drifting into the sky. There were a bunch of people nearby, and she happily called out to them, “Hey, look, I can fly!” She kept saying it and flying higher, until she was slightly above the roof of a small building and glided forward, above it. She was utterly delighted, not worried that she wasn’t in control. She added, “You might be able to fly, too!” There was a sense that others could develop this ability. Joyful.