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Oregon is Burning

5 Sep

Today is the second anniversary of my mother’s birthday since her death. Add to that, it looks like the apocalypse outside. And that sociopath is dismantling DACA. I’m not in a good mood.

I’m not the only one freaking out over the hazardous air quality. The following is a letter I’m about to hand-write to my senators and representative:

Dear Senators,

Portland is snowing ash. Portland, Eugene, and other parts of Oregon look like the sky right in front of me: smoky and somewhat orange, with a glowing orange sun. For days, I have been smelling smoke, sometimes even from inside my house. When I ventured outside yesterday—coughing, mind you—I discovered that the public pool was closed due to the hazardous air quality, so I went to a nearby coffee shop, where several of the customers were wearing surgical masks. That reminded me of the handmade cloth masks I saw for sale in Tibet, and I’m going to make myself one today. I should have already done so.

I am absolutely FURIOUS that the narcissistic sociopath squatting in the White House pretends that climate change doesn’t exist and is an invention of the Chinese! Who from planet Earth doesn’t believe in climate change in the year 2017?!? This is proof that Donald Dump and his minions are aliens from another planet, probably Rexicoricus…whatever it’s called. Dump needs to be deported back to his planet.

We need to care about the planet we live on, which is planet Earth. We need to have a government that isn’t so evil and insane that it pretends that climate change doesn’t exist. We see it happening before our very eyes. Oregon is burning. Texas and Louisiana are drowning in flood. We are seeing record high temperatures everywhere. Meanwhile, that heartless monster Donald Dump is fiddling.

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Violent Dream

5 Aug

What was I dreaming about before I woke to Virginia vomiting? And while it was dark, what was I dreaming about before waking to the sound of a cat fight (and going outdoors…to discover that it was happening several doors down and the sound really carries, which is reassuring because it means my cats aren’t the cause of such noises, never mind that I still intend to have a catio).

Toward the end of this dream, the guy who was probably the protagonist stepped out of a building (where he had been conversing with a female friend) and into what looked like a large garage. There was space for many vehicles. He approached his, when someone came up behind him. This someone was a Hispanic guy with a gun, and Guy 1 was in trouble because of something he did in the past. The Hispanic guy spoke with him, and like in a TV show, it came out in the conversation what he previously did. Guy 2 was just about to shoot Guy 1, when a Hispanic woman came into the garage and shot Guy 2, thus saving Guy 1.

There was a lot more to the dream before that. I think it was mainly a conversation in a bar. Now that I’m a little more awake, it seemed more than a little like a TV show. It’s the second violent dream I’ve had in the past, oh, month.

My Latest Dreams

4 Aug

I dreamed I was walking on a beach, the same one I really did walk on yesterday. But I think I was a black woman wearing a gold dress, and I was invited to a wedding and there was stuff about fashion.

I had a dream from a secret agent’s perspective, in which I went to my boss’s office, and it was a huge, dark room in which you couldn’t see the walls, just the tall desk where she sat or stood and a podium facing her. Another was there, and he was very unpleasant and hostile, and the boss said with his personality he was unsuited for this case, and she wanted me to take it. I met a couple of white women who were psychologically traumatized; maybe I was saving them from their abductor. One had shoulder-length blond hair and was in her 30s or 40s.

Earlier, I dreamed something more interesting than the secret agent dream, but when I woke from that dream Gabriel was purring and head-butting me, and I didn’t have the heart to shift positions in order to reach over and grab my glasses and phone in order to write about the dream; I probably would have disturbed Gabriel in the process, and he would have jumped off the bed. Instead, I petted him…and fell back to sleep before having the secret agent dream.

A few nights ago, I dreamed I was at my parents’ house and they were both alive and in the other room, while I was in my old bedroom and going through my closet in a search for something to wear. Unlike in many dreams, the dream version of the house looked just like it did in this reality. I kept finding stuff I wore as a teenager, especially skirts made of double knit, and I made a huge double-knit pile on my bed (to get rid of, of course). I had a pile of other clothing, probably cotton blouses I made as a teen. I found a black late Victorian-style jacket I made in my 30s, which I still have.

I read that dreaming that you’re having trouble deciding what to wear means you are looking for a new identity.

Ashram Dream

27 Jun

I dreamed that I lived in, or was temporarily staying at, a house that apparently was turning into an ashram.

The dream didn’t start out as especially pleasant. I think there may have been relatives there, and it strangely was supposed to be Kansas. I ended up staying in a part of this big house that was separate from all relatives (thank goddess!) and in the back of the house and down a flight of blue-painted wooden stairs, so I think I was sleeping and staying mainly in the basement.

The stairs led up directly to a large kitchen. Eventually, a young man was in the kitchen preparing food. I had leftovers that someone left me from a fast food joint, and I came up to use the microwave and told the young guy that I only eat stuff like this in Kansas (in the Midwest might have been a more accurate statement).

Meanwhile, downstairs, some people were setting up a meditation room. I went back down after putting the food in the microwave, and some people were coming down the stairs to the meditation room.

As I went back up the stairs, a lot of people were coming down the staircase (which had a landing). I had previously noticed that the stairs were littered, particularly with a piece of patterned green fabric and a couple other, smaller things, perhaps newspaper scraps. This, with a crowd on the stairs, made things difficult. I was getting a little anxious as I slowly made it up the stairs, with many people behind me and more people coming down. I got to thinking I should hurry up and eat and finish so I can participate in this group meditation (though realistically, I should have decided to hold off eating). I thought it would be a pity if I didn’t participate, never mind that I had no idea this was going to happen.

As I was up on the second half of the stairs, I heard chanting. It got louder: the sound of many people singing a Hindu chant. I was nearly at the top of the stairs, when people who were old friends ran into each other and kicked up a happy conversation. The chanting continued to the end of the dream.

(Awake, I don’t find it hard to interpret this dream. Kansas was where I took up meditation in reaction to the extremely hostile, toxic, and creepy environment and in reaction to toxic relatives. I recently finally resumed editing a novel inspired by my experience in Kansas. The start of the dream was Kansas and toxic relatives…and the end was related to meditation and spirituality.)

The Menacing Staircase

27 Jun

I dreamed that I was in a city and had been meeting up with a realtor, I think–and he was charming and attractive. But some people I knew–maybe they were helping me house hunt–didn’t like him, as they showed while we were all just outside his glass-doored office, and he was inside with another customer. But I seemed detached from their group, about three people, as though I were invisible. They knew it would be at least fifteen minutes before we met up again, so I decided to take a quick shower. I went to the Art Deco hostel where I was staying.

In the enormous lobby, I passed a tall and skinny Middle Eastern young man, in his late teens or early twenties; he resembled Ms. Marvel’s brother. He was pausing in a doorway and overhearing his father yelling at someone.

I seemed to switch to his perspective. His father was yelling, “You have to be so devoted that you read the Quran while you are walking.” Something like that.

I had either his perspective or mine, when I kept walking and overheard what sounded like a dulcimer. It was wonderful music, and I looked around and saw a young guy in a corner, playing…playing…what at first I thought was a dulcimer, but it looked a lot like a silver radio, perhaps from the 1970s.

I returned to the young Middle Eastern guy’s perspective. He was holding a Quran open in front of him while walking, and he got to a delicate staircase that wasn’t along a wall but out in the middle of the room. It was like filigree and didn’t have a normal banister. As he was going up these stairs, it felt precarious, almost as though the stairs were swaying. As he got higher, about halfway up and at a landing or curve, he was resorting to putting the book down a few steps ahead of him and using both hands to grasp at the sides–well, there was a sort of banister or handrail on each side. It was quite frightening, and there seemed a likely chance that he would fall.

Family Nightmare

25 Jun

I had a nightmare in which I was watching a film based on one of the Worst Frenemy in the Galaxy’s favorite novels.

The nightmare was about a family in which at least one of the kids was an adopted teenager. The type of film looked like something used in the 1960s, and it all took place at the family’s house. At first it was pretty mundane, but it turned dark quickly. Two adults, I think the mother and the eldest son, were conversing in what I think was the dining room (a large, simply-furnished and minimalist room with a long, natural wood table and benches in the center). Off to the right was a wide and short set of a few steps leading down into this room from another room.

Curled up on those steps was a teen girl. The mother and son eventually noticed, and one of them coldly asked, “What’s wrong with her?”

Next thing: the girl’s clearly dead…and her severed head is lying a few feet ahead of her body.

Next, we see another teen girl who is a member of the family, and she has longish blond hair and a somewhat round face…on which she has removed some layers of skin. She’s sobbing, and she’s sitting on the same kind of steps (as though the body vanished) and before her is a large paper plate full of a white powder, which I immediately knew to be poison. She’s eating it. She puts the plate down, and a fluffy orange cat and perhaps also a toddler comes along and licks the plate and drops dead.

Amid all this, I was a horrified viewer and find myself wishing I never saw this and thinking, Trust that frenemy to be into something so sick and insane. I may have made a mental note to avoid anything she was into. I certainly would have in this reality!

 

I dreamed that I had a new house and it was all my own. I didn’t paint any of the rooms but kept the colors someone else had painted it, and it was odd. I had nice hardwood floors, but at least one room had graffiti walls, and a living room had greyish-yellow walls. There were no curtains. I’d been sitting in a room I thought of as the back living room.

I had an urge to do some redecorating, because I noticed that one room had an awful lot of empty space. I looked around and tried to figure out what were the color schemes of certain rooms. I had several old couches that had been at my parents’ house and that were somewhat worn out. One was a green loveseat in the back living room, which was part kitchenette or kitchen nook… but in which I had the loveseat and a yellow armchair where most people would have put a dining table and chairs. The green loveseat didn’t have a wall behind it; instead, it faced an open space that led to a hallway that stretched the length of the condo. It faced a huge window with a Venetian blind. To the right of the couch was the armchair. To the right, the fridge was in the far-left corner, and I’m not sure there were any other kitchen facilities. In the front corner of this room was an odd space, where the white ceiling was low, sort of forming a box, and a blue taupe was forming a curtain and hanging from the ceiling.

Down the hallway, I passed a section of wall with at least one door (perhaps a bedroom on the other side) and came to what I thought of as the front living room. It was the greyish-yellow room, with more old couches. One was yellow, and the other was predominantly turquoise in a pattern. I had been feeling so proud of my new place, but now I was thinking it kind of weird and in need of redecorating, but I wasn’t sure how.

At some point in the dream, I recalled that my new place included an apartment I could rent out, and I got to thinking that what I thought of as the back living room could become a second apartment with a few changes. As I was thinking about this, I noticed from that room the far wall (to the right, opposite direction from the front living room), and this wall was white and had a big metal double door with a black curtain partially covering it, and one of the 2 doors was open, to my dismay.

The new place was on a college campus, and anyone could just walk into my new condo. I needed to go use the bathroom and paused a moment to decide whether I wanted to get that door closed first, but I noticed a college boy standing with his back to that door, and I didn’t want anyone to notice that it led to my place, didn’t want to attract attention, so I decided to leave it open until I got back from the restroom. Meanwhile, I realized that a big screen tv was turned on to a kind of loud anime show; this was to the left of the open door. I felt embarrassed, because anyone in the hallway must hear it.

Outside the condo, I was in the hallway of the same building, which except for my condo was a university. It resembled a hallway in the high school from hell. Students were coming and going, and I felt ashamed of being an ugly and fat middle-aged woman amid all these skinny young people.

I headed to a vending machine, but as though my legs fell asleep, I stopped being able to walk and was crawling along on the floor and feeling terribly embarrassed. Lots of students were around. One young man asked me if I needed help, but I couldn’t talk and knew that if I could just get to that big freezer along the wall in the same alcove as the vending machine, I’d grasp onto it and pull myself up. I was terribly embarrassed and afraid that people would ridicule me and laugh at me. Meanwhile, the same problem happened to a young male student, and he was crawling along straight toward the freezer and kind of getting in my way. But he crawled quickly, so his legs were soon in front of me–his jeans were sliding down and I could see the top of his underwear and his butt crack–and his sneaker-clad feet were in front of me, as I dragged myself in the direction of the vending machine, and he dragged himself in the direction of the freezer.

Unsettling Dreams

15 Jun

I dreamed that I was at a tiny old-fashioned train station. I may have gotten off one train, but what I remember is rushing dangerously close to the tracks as a train passed me, and I got to an archway in the center of the tiny building, where lots of people were…getting onto a train. I didn’t make it to the train, but I’m not sure I wished to ride that particular train.

I was the only customer remaining and walked away from that archway in order to wait at a location I saw earlier. As I headed back there, I again walked very close to the tracks, and a loud metal locomotive came close to hitting me. I felt nervous about that both times.

I circled around and spotted a whole bunch of people scrubbing brown wooden floor–this was still outdoors–in the vicinity of where I wished to sit down and wait. I didn’t wish to disturb them, and I thought I could tiptoe through without stepping in the wrong place and without disturbing them. They wore I think 19th century servants clothes and were chatting among themselves.

I was about to take a step…but then the closest cleaner dumped some water right where I was going to step. She scrubbed vigorously right there. I looked around for another dry spot, and the same thing happened. Finally, I ended up stepping onto a wet spot, and it was burning hot. I made several steps, all burning hot, and I may have been barefoot. One of the cleaners may have belatedly warned me, but after a few steps I figured I may as well get to the bench and get my feet up off the ground.

 

I had several other dreams, not as interesting as that first one or the final one, and I think I woke after every dream.

My last of many vivid dreams took place in a strip mall where there were a lot of pedestrians. It was nighttime, and I think I had the perspective of a teen girl (I was a completely different person than in this reality), and I was with my mother (a slender blond woman who appeared to be in her thirties) and sister, who was also blond and about eight years old…though sometimes I think she was more like 12.

We saw a man in probably his thirties who was skinny and blond and had high cheekbones and wore jeans, t-shirt, denim jacket, and a black baseball cap. He killed someone right before our eyes, in front of a shop. The way he killed I think more than one person was supernatural–he held up his hands, and I think rays of light came out of his hands and hit his victims.

We were panicky and wanted to distance ourselves from him but without attracting his attention. So we sneaked away, but he noticed us and chased after us in and around some shops.

We reached the glass front doors of Walgreens and were about to dash in, when a couple of staff members met us at the door and wouldn’t let us in and said they were closing. I was terrified, anxious, and probably glanced in the general direction of where I thought the murderer was. Walgreens was the far left one. Of the strip mall, so I was looking toward the right. I thought I saw him in front of a shop and surrounded by other pedestrians. Lots of pedestrians were around and didn’t seem to have any idea what was going on, especially cheerful groups of teenagers.

My mother begged and pleaded to get inside and may have said she just needed cough medicine. One of the cheerful teens said she should write a letter to Walgreens demanding free cough medicine.

I don’t know if we got away. I woke up.