Spastic Dreams

Lately I'm having a lot of vivid and strange dreams. It's probably from too many vegetables & fruit instead of sugar.

This morning's still has me out of sorts. I was hanging out with someone I used to date. He was more like a blend of guys I've dated in an unfamiliar body. The spirit was familiar but the face was vague.

He started out harmless but became progressively sinister. He was running errands around town and I was tagging along, but we were not having a good time. We were bickering and after a while I realized I needed to get away.

We ended up at someone's house - a mcmansion-type house in the suburbs. Walking up to the house, I could see into the open garage a set of golf clubs strewn on the ground. I knew he was going to use one of those clubs to beat the shit out of me.

Then I woke up.

There have been many others, but mostly fun up til now. I loved the one where I was "skiing" on flat, red sand in Australia on short, wide skis and I was able to get up to to extremely high speeds just by turning side to side. Would love to go back to that one.

Then there was the one where I was a lesbian with a long-term partner, who wasn't David (duh) and he wasn't too happy about that (contrary to porn movie plots). That one was actually pretty sad. But he reassured me (while fully conscious) that he wasn't going anywhere.

I might need a cupcake pretty soon.

Analyze This

Lots of weird dreams lately. Nothing I can remember too clearly, until this morning.

I distinctly remember watching my dream like it was a movie - a really bad B horror flick.

It's late at night on an empty, secluded beach, somewhere in Hawaii maybe. A young adult couple frolics down the beach, running, the man chasing the woman. The woman is topless and has a beautiful rack - really beautiful.

She and her boyfriend run down the beach laughing, having a great time. Then they go into what looks like an old government office building right on the beach, like an old DMV office - faded beige metal siding with old aluminum-framed windows. Not much furniture inside other than a couple of old metal desks left in the middle of the large, empty room. It's been empty for a very long time.

They run into the building and off to the right - he's still chasing her and she's laughing - great fun - good times. At this point I join the dream. Something's about to happen but I'm not sure what. I'm crouched in the entry foyer, below the inside windows. The couple can't see me and I can't warn them about what's inside, behind the wall on the left.

There's a light outside that shines into the windows, bright moonlight, maybe - I can see everything clearly. It's quiet now - I can't hear the young couple but they're oblivious. I turn to look at the thing I knew was coming - I can't see it - it's invisible - but the light shows me a shadow of its skeleton on the inside wall.

It's a T-Rex, silently creeping around the wall toward the happy young couple. Before they know what's upon them, it begins to tear them apart, blood splattering everywhere. There is still no sound, just sprays of blood all over the walls. The end.

I woke up and didn't feel at all frightened or disturbed. Just another day. It was time to feed the cats.

Fraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak

I need to go to sleep and wake up in Canada, all moved and settled in whilst I was snoozing. Doing all this by myself is bullllllshit. Not feeling so positive today, obviously. I'm overwhelmed and every time I turn around there's another issue/problem/whining cat/deranged garage sale lady.

A few days after the garage sale, which was a couple of weekends ago, a weird lady came back to the house asking for a transformer for a lamp she bought. I should have told her then I wouldn't go looking for it and I should have shoved a $5 bill into her crabby, wrinkled mouth.

But I thought we might actually have it somewhere, so I told her I'd see if I could find it and asked if she lived in town. She said she didn't and that she'd be back the next day. Great! After she left I closed the curtains and locked the porch screen door.

Sure enough, she came back the next day and when she couldn't get the screen door open, she knocked/clawed at the front window. Funny, but that will never make me want to come to the door, so I kept working and eventually she left.

She came back again when I was actually not home and left a friggin' note on the door. I'm no accountant, but if she doesn't live relatively close by, she's just spent another $5 making repeated trips to my house.

I'd have gladly given her money back the first time, but I honestly thought she'd find the transformer on eBay or elsewhere, rather than keep stinging me like an angry wasp.

Came home today after a shoot and guess what was sitting on my porch? The goddamn lamp she bought with a self-addressed, stamped envelope taped to it. I know what you're thinking because it was my first thought, too - What should I send her in that little envelope?

Of course I'll do the right thing and send her money back, but it might be graphically enhanced and very securely taped to another piece of paper, or it could end up soaked in tuna oil right before it makes it into the envelope, because these things happen sometimes.

What a giant waste of time and energy. She must be a joy to live with. Speaking of joys, people have GOT to stop walking in front of the lens when I'm trying to photograph their goddamn properties.

Do you not see the big tripod and the shit attached to the top of it that makes the pretty pictures? Do you think we can just photoshop out the blurred vision of you obscuring the view, oblivious to the rest of the world and the people in it? Is my job somehow not as important as yours?

Unfortunately, because I'm a jangled mess of nerves right now, I actually told a guy today to please stop walking in front of the camera and to either come up or go down the stairs - one or the other, because I need to get the shot and move on.

Speaking of moving on... I had the flying dream again last night, but sadly, I was flying in and around a house to survey the best shots. Right after that, I was talking to Jennifer Aniston at a party. She'd had a major face lift and was still in recovery. As one might expect, she was aloof and not at all as friendly as you might hope she'd be.

Lucas Wolves

Last night I dreamt that we went to a big LucasArts shindig - a fancy, dress-up thing - in a huge, open air amphitheater. Kinda like Shoreline, but much bigger, and there was no stage or chairs - the whole thing was a big, grassy, stepped amphitheater.

We were down in the main area milling around with thousands of other people when I decided I needed to go find my shoes. I'd lost my strappy slingback heels and I was mad.

In my little black dress I ran up the wide, grassy steps, crowded with people on either side of the aisle, and at the top, found a bunch of animals all curled up, asleep in a heap. Stray cats in one heap, and I think there were tigers in another.

I passed them on my way to wherever I thought my shoes might be and suddenly encountered a pack of wolves. There were still a few people wandering about up there, but they were off in the distance.

Right in front of me stood a large, snarling, growling wolf. I started flipping out and screaming for my friend's sister, Suzie. SUZIE! SUZIE! I haven't seen Suzie in about a year, but apparently she's a wolf expert and only person you want in such a situation.

Suzie came from out of nowhere to escort me away from the wolf, who hadn't moved at all since I walked up on it. Problem solved. Thanks Suzie.

Lance Armstrong is an Ass

And I know this because in a dream the other night, we went on a date.

What a colossally self-absorbed jerk. The whole time, all he wanted to talk about is when and how much I work out because this is all he cares about.

"So, when you get up in the morning, what's your first workout? Running? Swimming?" I didn't answer.

He asked me this question while we were out on a run together. And after the run, he got onto his bike to go for a ride while I swam in a river near the road.

And because I'm a badass, I was swimming fast enough to keep up with him on his bike. But I knew this would be our first and last date/workout/triathlon.

After the all-day workout, he took me to his parents' outdoor restaurant somewhere in dusty, rural Texas. It was a collection of picnic tables under a long tent.

I must say, his father is a lovely person - so sweet and friendly - I felt like I'd known him all my life. While Lance was working the tables like a plastic politician I was helping his father serve food & bus tables.

His father asked me how the date was going with a look on his face like he knew the answer he was likely to get.

I told him there was no way I could put up with an ass like his son after all the shit I'd been through in the past - it just isn't worth it. His father nodded in agreement and we said a warm goodbye.

David agrees that he's a total ass because he screwed up a relationship with Cheryl Crow. She seems so nice and so easygoing, he'd have to be an idiot to mess that up.

So, sorry Lance, but I have to ask that you never call me again. And my first workout of the day is pushing the button on the espresso machine.

(I know, quite a departure from the previous post, but Debbie Downer is a drag.)

Damn That Richard Gere

Had a lovely day off shooting photos for the SF Food Bank, but I almost didn't make it. I went to bed early, but instead of waking up early and popping up out of bed, I slept a bit too long and had a horrible dream about fooling around with Richard Gere.

In the dream I'd been fooling around with Richard Gere for too long and ended up missing the Food Bank event. Even in the dream I realized I'd missed the event and I was disgusted with myself for being such an idiot.

After realizing I'd had this horrible dream, I then realized (after actually waking) that I had indeed slept too long and was so disoriented, couldn't remember if I wanted to leave by 7:30 or be there by 7:30. Of course it was the latter. I wanted to be there by 7:30 and I had 10 minutes to get ready.

I rushed out of the house, stressed that I would arrive too late and miss the start of the event. As it turns out, I arrived just as things were getting started. I was there right on time. But I don't want Richard Gere showing up in my head ever again. What a weirdo.