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Dreams and Suffrage

6 Mar

I had a dream mostly from the perspective of a college student reminiscent of Ani DeFranco; she at least looked like her and was charming and outgoing. She lived in the dorm and was walking down the hallway at some point. Once she was alone, until she saw another student seated and said something friendly to them until she walked off.

In the final scene, she was in a simple and plain study room with two female friends. There were rows of tables and a printer, which the three were adjusting. When they were done with the printer–fixing it or something–the main character looked up and approached a studious male student seated at the next table. She said something friendly starting with, “Hey!”

Then the perspective shifted. It was from some distance and you see the other two girls staring at her in shock…and she’s still talking to the guy, except he isn’t there. Nobody’s there. He’s a figment of her imagination. The friends are upset because they realize she’s developed mental illness. She has no idea.

Earlier, I had a fascinating dream inspired by my newfound information that all women in this country weren’t really allowed to vote beginning in 1920; it was primarily white women. In 1924, Native Americans became citizens, so they got the vote in 1924. Another law was passed in 1952, so Japanese Americans could vote. Finally, laws preventing black people and poor whites from voting, such as literacy tests, were passed in 1964. In 1965, a law making it illegal to prevent people from voting based on race was finally passed. So it’s a bunch of technicalities, and someone spread an over-simplified version on Facebook, claiming that only white women got the vote in 1920 (quite a shock, after all that awareness of suffrage history); Native American women got the vote in 1924, Asians in 1952, and blacks in 1964.

The dream was supposed to be set in a slum, showing women who didn’t vote before 1964–and it was set in that year. For an instant it looked like that: a city street, old brick apartment buildings, someone stopping and standing right next to their bike.

But in an instant, it was like a cross between a flea market and a junk yard. There were narrow pathways lined with paraphernalia piled up and forming walls. People here and there were selling stuff, presumably including the stuff that created the walls. I had the perspective of someone walking around through these aisles and stopping to chat with various people.


Dream of Tiny Sea Monsters

21 Feb

I dreamed I was in the apartment at the back of my house, specifically the kitchenette, and I wanted drinking water. I was by the sink with a clear pitcher, and a mouse came out of nowhere and startled me. It charged at my feet—while I hastily backed away from it—before the rodent disappeared under the kitchen counter/sink. Maybe it was a small rat. I kept expecting to see it come up out of the sink’s drain.

I picked up the clear pitcher and filled it with tap water…only to notice creepy things swimming in the water, like giant slugs and small sea monsters or eels. One long one wiggling around in the water especially creeped me out. I dumped the water into the sink and poured again, in hopes that the sea monsters would clear away; it’s like how you turn on a faucet and rust comes out at first, but after a bit the water is clear. I saw another round of sea monsters, this time fewer and all small and yellow.

Return to Normal Life

4 Jan

Yesterday evening I arrived at home after spending a month with family in Phoenix, AZ.


I was startled at how much weight the cats gained; the cat sitter didn’t have time to hang out with the cats and dashed in, fed them, and changed their litter boxes, and these are very sociable cats, so I figure they spent most of the time eating and sleeping. Fortunately, now that I’m with them, they’re happy again, aside from my attempting to turn them into indoor cats.

I knew the return to cold weather would be a shock; the highs in Phoenix were between 75 and 80 degrees Fahrenheit the whole time I was there, and when I arrived in Oregon, it was thirty-seven degrees; but at least there isn’t any ice.

What I didn’t anticipate was that returning to my own house, where I live alone with cats, and returning to normal life, would be something of a shock. I felt somewhat disappointed and lonely after a month as a houseguest, even though I’m not compelled to live with people, only with cats, and I’ve read that this is typical of empaths. I also felt overwhelmed with the home improvements and cleaning up that the house needs. It has a new quirk: the door to the hall closet (or cupboard under the stairs) no longer clicks shut. The lack of central heat is a considerable problem; even the house in Phoenix has central heat.


The cats are extremely cuddly and fight over my lap. I can and shall get used to this life again. Dressing in layers helps.

On the front porch were two bins of mail, in addition to many packages, so I’ve been streaming the second season of The Crown while sorting through snail mail and cuddling the cats. That first night, one cat purred ecstatically, while another cat sat nearby and stared jealously. They took turns doing this; Virginia sprawled out on her back, and facing us was her sister Vita, huddled on a chair and glaring. Fortunately, they’re handling the situation better today; Virginia and Gabriel both occupied my lap without any growls from Gabriel, perhaps for the first time ever. I’m making a point of staying at home as much as I can, to reassure them.

Back from the Dead

31 Dec

I dreamed that Cheetah came back from the dead.


She was a feisty grey tabby who lived with me for two decades. She passed away on January 16, 2016.

In the dream, I lived in what looked like my parents’ house—the house that was recently sold. At least, it looked just like it, and the neighborhood resembled that neighborhood.

I had just flown back home from Phoenix and was walking down Smoke Road to the house. It was bright and sunny outside, with a bright blue sky, and I was surprised it wasn’t cold and snowy and was relieved, too, since I’d gotten accustomed to the Phoenix weather.

At the house, I was in the kitchen and again struck by how bright and sunny it was, how bright blue the sky was as seen through the sliding glass doors, and how comfortable the temperature was, how similar the weather was to Phoenix this time of year. None of the anticipated snow and ice. My cats, the ones I now live with, I think were there, at the house.

I went into a cluttered room, I think a bedroom, and there was a couch with a bunch of blankets on it. I reached into the blankets and pulled out…a perfectly healthy Cheetah. In the reality of the dream, I knew she had been buried in the ground and had come back to life the previous day, had climbed up out of the ground on her own. She seemed young again and perfectly healthy, and she didn’t object when I picked her up and cuddled her. She seemed like a much more mellow version of Cheetah.

After I woke up, I lay there in shock, as it sank in that I had just dreamed that my old cat, Cheetah, came back from the dead.

Joan of Arc, Private Eye

9 Dec

I dreamed I had the perspective of a young woman who was a private detective, at least an apprentice. My supervisor was a middle-aged woman (maybe the attorney on Bones). Oddly, I wore Joan of Arc armor for my job, sometimes. I may have had a cat for an assistant. I was in an urban area. At some point, I was walking along a path…I’m tempted to say along a sort of metal beam. I was attempting to solve a murder.

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.

Dreams of Highways, Detectives, and Criminals

21 Nov

I dreamed that one other person and I were fighting with a violent criminal who looked just like a Bollywood star, Akshay Kumar (who played the psychiatrist in Bhul Bhulaiyaah). It was dark out and at the edge of a highway, and there may have been a wrecked car nearby, or a parked vehicle of some sort. I managed to finally be on top of him with my knee in his back as I held his wrists together. I was impatient for police to arrive and take over, but when they did, they let him go. I felt very disappointed, diminished, invalidated, and betrayed.

It’s reminiscent of the overtly misogynistic attitude of not believing women but only men; if a male steps up and objects to sexual harassment or something, then people finally take it seriously; when men got PTSD during WWI, suddenly it was taken seriously instead of diminished as “hysteria.”


I had a dream about a father-daughter detective duo. The father was a very tall guy who looked like Robert Thurman, I think. The daughter was pretty and maybe 20 years old with a round face and long, straight, strawberry blond hair. The creepy thing was people often assumed they were a couple, despite the age gap. At some point, they were in what looked like a lab or hospital and standing beside each other between a counter and a slab. He said something about her mother, maybe wanting her to help in the investigation.


Oh, yeah: I had a dream involving a highway but it was weird–like a highway where people walk, or where sometimes people are driving and then suddenly they’re walking instead. I was behind a huge crowd of vehicles/people. A cop was chasing a couple of male criminals (or alleged criminals) right ahead of me. At a turnoff, I caught up with them, and we were people on foot at this point. They weren’t allowed to turn off or were waiting for something and blocking my path, so I had to step around them and felt awkward about it.