bizarre dreams
Jun. 30th, 2003 07:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kjpepperGawd, what is up with my subconscious lately?
Last night I dreamed that it rained. Not just a light drizzle that hangs on like a bad summer cold. I mean a torrential downpour, kinda like what happens at the very height of New England weather tantrums, except that this had gone on for days. Nothing was flooded, except any flat piece of land - farmer's fields, meadows were completely underwater except for patches.
I was looking out of mine and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sundart's bedroom window at the spectacle, and was somehow able to see a huge field flooded out at the foot of a large hill rather than our neighbors yard and flower garden, and I looked up and the storm clouds were breaking up and there was the brightest, most vivid rainbow I had ever seen. The rest of the Casita were in the kitchen behind me, talking about some shit, or cooking dinner, I don't remember which, and I yelled at them that they had to come look at this, but they wouldn't come see, they were all like "yeah, yeah, rainbows, cocks, hell." So I turned back to the window and here's where it gets weird. It's like the sky was a web page, and the rainbows I was now seeing were someone's 1996 era collection of animated gifs of rainbows, because first of all they were too brightly colored, with no grading between the colors, and some of them did weird shit. One had a parade of cartoony people marching and having gay pride, the other had three kids climbing up one side and sliding down the other, several looked suspiciously like the My Little Pony rainbow, except without the words My Little Pony (but it did have the poofy white clouds) one had sparkles, and another kept morphing into different colors, like suddenly there would be a band of just purple in the sky.
Since no one would come look I decided to take a picture of the rainbow, so I grabbed our digital cameras (we had two in the dream instead of one that works but sucks and one that's broken but good) and ran down to Smith or some amorphous college-like campus that was near our house. I found the perfect spot to take a picture and at first used the other digital camera I had which was this swanky looking Kodak number, but it seemed that in return for an impossibly astronomical amount of megapixels of resolution, you had to stand there with the camera in your hand and wait for the picture to expose itself (shut up) like one of those ancient cameras with the flash powder and the photographer hidden under a black blanket. And even after I stood there and tried to hold still, despite the fact that a group of Russians were making fun of me, the picture came out as a bitmap - a seriously jaggy black and white image. Not even grayscale. Turns out that the maximegapixelled camera only took pictures in black and white or in greyscale. So I was pissed, and I hurriedly (the rainbow was beginning to fade, turned on the other camera I had (our sucky HP camera) and tried to take another picture with that . . .
And that's about when Valentino, whom I had forgotten to lock out last night, began attacking my toes.
'course I had a seriously strange dream the other day too. I dreamed I was playing on Austin's computer (as usual) and the phone rang. It was for me, but it was from my mother's dead favorite cousin Cecil, who apparently had gotten internet access and had been reading my LiveJournal, and wasn't too pleased about what I had been writing about my mother. "Of course your mother has seen this and has informed you of your immaturity," he said (for the record, he pronounced it "imma-CHUR-ity" like you're supposed to, not "imma-TOOR-ity" like my mother says it, which annoys hell out of me.) And I was like, no, she doesn't even read it. And he was like "Well, I suggest you lock up or delete what you've been saying about her. The entire world doesn't need to read your rantings on the subject." And I was like fuck off and go back to the Summerlands already and stop calling me. Hmm, should have checked the caller ID in the dream . . . anyway. I don't remember much of the dream after that, but I do remember waking up and thinking "What the fuck, the really really incriminating stuff is Friends-only anyway."
I'm stiff, sleepy and stinky, and I have to go sweep up the study since the Boy Cat overturned some plants or something back there. What a dumbass. And then I have to go to work. bleh.
Last night I dreamed that it rained. Not just a light drizzle that hangs on like a bad summer cold. I mean a torrential downpour, kinda like what happens at the very height of New England weather tantrums, except that this had gone on for days. Nothing was flooded, except any flat piece of land - farmer's fields, meadows were completely underwater except for patches.
I was looking out of mine and
sundart's bedroom window at the spectacle, and was somehow able to see a huge field flooded out at the foot of a large hill rather than our neighbors yard and flower garden, and I looked up and the storm clouds were breaking up and there was the brightest, most vivid rainbow I had ever seen. The rest of the Casita were in the kitchen behind me, talking about some shit, or cooking dinner, I don't remember which, and I yelled at them that they had to come look at this, but they wouldn't come see, they were all like "yeah, yeah, rainbows, cocks, hell." So I turned back to the window and here's where it gets weird. It's like the sky was a web page, and the rainbows I was now seeing were someone's 1996 era collection of animated gifs of rainbows, because first of all they were too brightly colored, with no grading between the colors, and some of them did weird shit. One had a parade of cartoony people marching and having gay pride, the other had three kids climbing up one side and sliding down the other, several looked suspiciously like the My Little Pony rainbow, except without the words My Little Pony (but it did have the poofy white clouds) one had sparkles, and another kept morphing into different colors, like suddenly there would be a band of just purple in the sky.Since no one would come look I decided to take a picture of the rainbow, so I grabbed our digital cameras (we had two in the dream instead of one that works but sucks and one that's broken but good) and ran down to Smith or some amorphous college-like campus that was near our house. I found the perfect spot to take a picture and at first used the other digital camera I had which was this swanky looking Kodak number, but it seemed that in return for an impossibly astronomical amount of megapixels of resolution, you had to stand there with the camera in your hand and wait for the picture to expose itself (shut up) like one of those ancient cameras with the flash powder and the photographer hidden under a black blanket. And even after I stood there and tried to hold still, despite the fact that a group of Russians were making fun of me, the picture came out as a bitmap - a seriously jaggy black and white image. Not even grayscale. Turns out that the maximegapixelled camera only took pictures in black and white or in greyscale. So I was pissed, and I hurriedly (the rainbow was beginning to fade, turned on the other camera I had (our sucky HP camera) and tried to take another picture with that . . .
And that's about when Valentino, whom I had forgotten to lock out last night, began attacking my toes.
'course I had a seriously strange dream the other day too. I dreamed I was playing on Austin's computer (as usual) and the phone rang. It was for me, but it was from my mother's dead favorite cousin Cecil, who apparently had gotten internet access and had been reading my LiveJournal, and wasn't too pleased about what I had been writing about my mother. "Of course your mother has seen this and has informed you of your immaturity," he said (for the record, he pronounced it "imma-CHUR-ity" like you're supposed to, not "imma-TOOR-ity" like my mother says it, which annoys hell out of me.) And I was like, no, she doesn't even read it. And he was like "Well, I suggest you lock up or delete what you've been saying about her. The entire world doesn't need to read your rantings on the subject." And I was like fuck off and go back to the Summerlands already and stop calling me. Hmm, should have checked the caller ID in the dream . . . anyway. I don't remember much of the dream after that, but I do remember waking up and thinking "What the fuck, the really really incriminating stuff is Friends-only anyway."
I'm stiff, sleepy and stinky, and I have to go sweep up the study since the Boy Cat overturned some plants or something back there. What a dumbass. And then I have to go to work. bleh.
