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A Theater, a Staircase, and a Corgi

22 Nov

I dreamed that a theater group was doing a play set in an Eastern European house, and they grabbed me to play an extra. Unfortunately, I wasn’t familiar with the play and nobody told me what I was supposed to do, before I was in costume (a white blouse and a boldly patterned wrap-around skirt that felt like it was going to slide off) and on the set, but which appeared to be in someone’s basement.

The stage was just a section of the grey concrete floor. I stood upstage center and clutched some kitchen tools in my left hand, while I watched the real actors perform. To my right was a stove, and I think beyond that was shelving, storing lots of kitchen stuff. To my left was a counter and more kitchen stuff. I came to wish I was wearing an apron and realized I was acting more like an audience member than an actor, so I turned and looked down at the tools in my hand and paid attention to what a couple of men were doing to my right. They had become curious about a couple of antique iron cornbread forms or sort of muffin tins and were pressing what looked like crumbled daisies into them.

I was strictly an observer even while on stage, and the real actors were ignoring me and not interacting me during my “performance.”

I checked an online dream dictionary that indicated that dreaming of a theater reflects your present social life. Hmmm.

*

I dreamed I was walking down many flights of stairs at one end of what I think was a tall abandoned building. When I reached the last, bottom flight, I was in an eerie basement, and all this sand-like dust was flying upward somehow, in slow motion. It created a hazy atmosphere. I felt afraid and wondered if something evil lurked in the basement. I was afraid I was going to be killed and considered turning around and going back up.

Next, I was with a small group of people and telling them about the dream, and they didn’t seem as fascinated as I was.

*

I had a dream in which I got off a plane and drove partway from the airport, but because I had a magic or super hero ability to walk extremely fast, I went by foot, leaving my car in a rural area surrounded by cornfields. I was walking along between 2 fields.

Later, I was with a few people at a motel. They included my mother (who died last year) and brother, in addition to people I don’t know in this reality, some family friends. And there was a corgi.

I thought of this as a temporary living situation but seemed very moved in, or at least someone was, and with lots of stuff, books and figurines, all over the hotel room. It even had a couch, and at some point, I was lounging on it. There was a sense of waiting. Oh, yes: this was after we all ate out for lunch. I took a nap afterward and felt impatient to eat out for dinner with everyone, but then I reflected that it seemed like all I did was eat and sleep, like Garfield the cat. I was appalled at myself and didn’t mention dinner.

We all agreed it was time to go out, and I explained I needed to go get my car, because I left it not far from the airport. I felt like being sociable–that seems like a big part of my dream. So as we went out of the hotel room and were walking along the concrete walkway just outside it, I had a grocery cart and the corgi on a leash. I noticed a tiny wagon with some of my stuff in it, particularly a bunch of clothes (including a red plaid flannel shirt), so while everyone was still walking, I quickly scooped up the clothing and put it in the grocery cart I was pushing.

I was planning on going and getting the car and perhaps not bringing anyone except the corgi. At the moment, or before I scooped up the clothing, I considered putting the corgi in the cart.

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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.

Feline Dream

8 Jun

I dreamed that I lived in a small apartment with Cheetah (the elderly cat who died in 2015 at almost twenty years of age), another adult female cat, and a new kitten. Cheetah attacked the kitten or tried to, and I rescued the kitten. The apartment had a sliding glass door in back, and all the felines managed to slip out, and I went searching for them. Cheetah was angrily and slowly walking around. The kitten was clinging to the other cat and was the deep orange of a red guinea pig and may have turned into a guinea pig.

I was going to take a trip soon and decided to ask my mother to babysit the kitten so Cheetah wouldn’t be a threat. In the dream my mother lived nearby, I think in the same apartment building.

Great: both my dead cat and my dead mother in a dream.

One of those Mother Dreams

4 Jun

I had a dream in which I lived in what looked like a large and spotless house with my mother. I woke from a nap and i didn’t know where she was; I didn’t think she was home. I went to the living room–a very large and modern living room I think with white carpet–seems to me like the room was white and black in its color scheme. I lounged on a couch and munched on Oreo cookies while watching a quirky show about two young women living with their mother. The decor tended to change slightly depending on what projects they were working on. For instance, their kitchen had strings of onions hanging from more and more things–such as draped over the fridge and hanging from each side of it.

Though I assumed my mother was out, she appeared walking down a hallway to the living room, and I think another woman, a friend of hers, appeared, too. My mother (who didn’t look anything like my real mother, more like one of the beautiful and glamorous Indian actresses in this show about the Buddha I’ve been obsessively watching). She didn’t say anything or smile; her facial expression seemed aloof, and I felt ashamed of being caught idle on the couch and munching on junk food while watching tv. (I suppose watching tv wouldn’t have looked so bad if it had been a documentary.) She wore something glamorous that included a leopard print, and she looked like she had just taken a shower.

It just occurred to me that the Oreo cookies matched the black and white color scheme of the living room.

Since my parents passed away–my dad in May 2014, my mother in March 2016–I continue to have dreams in which they are still alive. My sister said, with considerable relief, that she no longer dreams about our parents.

Today it sounded like aliens were trying to communicate through the toilet, before it sound was singing birds. Perhaps there’s a nest in the attic. (That actually wasn’t a dream.)

A Nightmare, Toxic Relatives, and a House

17 Apr

I had a disturbing dream in which I owned what appeared to be a large old house that was sparsely furnished, and I was planning on living there, but a woman who was present in the front room with me informed me that the reason my mother and aunts went out was because they were planning on…I forget the terminology used, but it was something to the effect of pretending that the house wasn’t mine and claiming it as theirs by requesting some sort of ticket or token.

I think in the reality of the dream, this was a house I bought and had nothing to do with these evil relatives. I felt utterly horrified and knew I had to act fast, but I didn’t know how.

These relatives returned and were having amiable, cheerful conversation among themselves while not acknowledging my existence. I was panicking. For the sake of someone else who may have been present, I started scratching a message in a rubber rug (like in a car, but larger and partially rolled up), but the message was not showing up well enough for someone else to read it.

In this reality, toxic relatives stole a house from me (after years of their talking down to me, verbally abusing me, and slandering me), a house that an uncle left me. I was in the room when he was talking with my mother about who should he leave the house to, and she suggested me because of my passion for old architecture. So he did.