Tagged: dreams

A most cuddleable psychopath.

Monday, February 13, 2012 -- 8:26 pm

Sometimes I have crazy, fucked up dreams.  Sometimes they are scary (being stalked by dinosaurs or chased cross country by creepy zombie bears,) sometimes they are awesome (dating a very charming, dancing-loving Sean Bean,) and sometimes they're just plain weird.  I try to post about any of my more particularly memorable dreams, because I have a sad tendency to immediately forget most of my dreams when I wake up and I really think some of them need to be immortalized in writing somewhere.  Other times though, even after waking my dreams remain very vivid, and I can recall with perfect clarity the crackfest that is my sleeping mind.

What follows is a dream I had a couple of weeks ago, co-starring my sister and a certain clinically insane Batman villain.

Okay, so my sister and I are highly skilled, top secret agents for some random, un-specified government organization.  I know we were highly skilled and top secret because we were both wearing snazzy black suits and sunglasses, and everyone knows that's the mark of a very highly skilled and top secret agents.  Unfortunately, I don't think we had any sort of top secret code names, so for the purposes of this blog post I will call us Agent Chelle and Agent Brenna.

So we're given the very dangerous but important assignment of infiltrating the hideout of the infamous Joker, the clown prince of crime, though for what purposes I couldn't tell you.  I remember there being a distinct air of anxiety surrounding our mission, due to not only the common sense knowledge that getting on the bad side of the Joker in any way is extremely hazardous for your health, but also the extra caution and care needed on our parts to ensure that Agent Chelle was never spotted by J or his goons or else he'd recognize her (for reasons unknown to me -- my dream self is obviously not high enough in the secret dream agent pecking order for the people in charge to tell me anything.)  In any event, we were dropped off in the middle of a suburban street, and due to our extra caution to remain hidden we spent a lot of time hiding behind giant piles of plowed snow along the side of the road.  I don't believe either of us were wearing sensible enough shoes to be doing so, either.

So anyway, in that unexplainably convenient way dreams have of moving you seamlessly from one scene to another, we magically go from snow dune diving outside to suddenly successfully having snuck into the Joker's factory-type lair -- we also seem to have superb timing, as Mr. J is just arriving back from some nefarious criminal doings.  We're hiding around the corner of a wall as he walks in, flanked with henchmen, but (here comes the plot twist!) for some reason beyond my understanding (probably because my brain is on crack... or in the throes of crack withdrawal... I'm not sure which) the Joker who walks into the room is in fact a Joker-shaped teddy bear.  He's two feet tall, brown, fluffy, and bear-shaped, only he's got the Joker's creepy grin and is wearing his trademark purple suit.  (The closest comparison I can make it to think of Lotso from Toy Story 3, but a much snappier dresser and about a hundred times more psychotic.)  But of course, being a dream, this all seems completely normal and comes to no surprise to either of us.

We watch unseen as Joker-teddy's goons lift him up to sit on this disturbingly violent looking spike-covered chair, and then they hoist the chair up like a tiny elevator to the floor above; all the while Joker-teddy is very angry and complaining that he needs to change his clothes because his suit got all wet.  I don't remember how we end up getting to the upstairs floor of the factory without being seen (though I'm confident it involved some very clever and tech gadgety-filled 007 hijinks on our part), but magically we do, and as we're sneaking around we're confronted by Joker-teddy henchmen.  GASP!  OH NOES!  CUE EPIC BRAWL MUSIC?  No, not at all, actually.  Instead of bashing our Secret Agenty faces in with lead pipes and brass knuckles, these poor goons catch us sneaking around in their hideout and their first priority is cajoling us into helping them pick out a new outfit for Joker-teddy to wear.

And so with that, we are escorted to another room where we proceed to shift through piles of tiny sets of jeans, leather pants, dress shirts, and fuzzy sweaters, trying to find something Joker-teddy would like to wear.  Selection is crucial, since presenting a crazy homicidal clown with the wrong ensemble will end with him becoming cranky and most likely shooting all of us in the face, so it goes without saying we were all feeling a little pressure at that point.

While we continue to argue amongst ourselves about which outfit would be best, I remember asking a goon if they had any nice teddy-sized dress slacks available (since we all know Joker-teddy does not typically wear jeans,) and then remarking to Agent Chelle about how badly I wished we had brought all of the Cabbage Patch Kids clothes along with us that we used to use to dress up our toys in when we were kids, because I was so sure we could have found something suitable in there.  The most amusing aspect of this thought process was me very clearly thinking to myself how, in particular, I wish we'd brought along a specific dress we used to put on one of my stuffed toys; it was red with little white flowers on it (and to be honest it was, in fact, an apron and not a dress at all, as it tied around the neck and waist but had no back to hide my doll's shame at all.)  However, despite that, I remember thinking perfectly rationally, "Yes, of course, that would be the most sensible choice."

Unfortunately, I woke up at that point and was never able to find out which outfit we ended up choosing and nervously presenting to the psychotic plush teddy bear in the next room.  Kind of disappointing, actually.  I would have liked my dream self to make an emergency call on my secret agent shoe phone (because all secret agents have shoe phones) and request HQ to chopper in the garbage bag of Cabbage Patch Clothes sitting down in my basement storage room.  I probably would have pulled rank somewhere during the conversation and started shouting at my superior on the other end of the phone and calling him a maggot, and how GOD DAMN IT, MAN, THE WORLD DEPENDS ON YOU GETTING US THAT FLOWERY APRON.

It was one of those absurd dreams where I woke up and just laid there giggling and smiling idiotically to myself.  Sometimes those are the best kind.

Where is Dana fucking White.

Thursday, July 8, 2010 -- 11:36 pm
Mood: 12 Dreadful agonizing fear.

The following is the one and only positively rad bear-related portion part of this blog post:

Me: @danawhite I had a dream where I was being attacked by bears and you came in and were all "I'll handle this" and fought them off, saving me.
Me: @danawhite Long story short -- you're sort of my hero.
*No reply for many days*
Me: No reply from @danawhite in response to my msg about dreaming that he saved me from a bear. I think I may have made him uncomfortable.
Me: Or perhaps @danawhite was in fact in real life bear battle and was brutally mauled? Bear fighting prowess does not exist beyond dreams?
Dana White: I didn't see it. Glad I could help :)
Me: @danawhite Huzzuh! Glad to hear you were not in fact mauled by angry bears. Rock on.
Dana White: lol

\o/

I am having serious doubts about this mountain camping trip. I was having doubts before, but after reading Fairfax Lake's far too convenient "Bear Smart e-Book" I feel like I'm mere moments away from a panic attack at the thought of driving four hours away tomorrow just to camp at some backwater mountain campground with a chance of bear encounters and "serious mauling" (the e-book's words, not mine) thrown in. There is something we have termed the "Brenna bubble" and bears are not a part of that bubble.

If you can't already tell, I have a pretty solid history -- which I believe I genetically inherited in some fashion from my mother -- of being terrified of bears. I have never seen one up close, but I positively, 100% sure, instinctively know that if I ever do I will end up dead. Watching The Edge when I was younger was like sitting through my own personal 2-hour nightmare.

If I end up actually going tomorrow I'm not even going to be able to walk to the bathroom alone. I will be a campsite Nazi. "DID YOU PUT AWAY ALL YOUR FOOD INTO THE CAR?!" "YOU CAN'T GO TO BED IN THE SAME CLOTHES YOU COOKED DINNER IN!!!" "IS THAT TOOTHPASTE I SEE IN YOUR TENT?!" Oh god. Hated and shunned by close friends, or hideous bear mauling? What do I do, what do I do, what do I do.

:x

Not even Dana White can save you now.

Saturday, May 30, 2009 -- 8:28 pm
Mood: 08 Allergies are owning my ass today.

Oh god I had the worst dream the other night. I was on vacation camping with my parents and our campsite was attacked by a bear. We barely escaped and drove all the way back home, but the bear showed up there too! So we proceed to flee across the country trying to evade it, but every time we think we're finally safe, the freaking bear shows up again! I tell you it was a bear on a fucking mission, bent on our gruesome bloody demise. (Where the hell is heroic, bear-battling Dana White when you need him?) So anyway, then we finally blow the bear up with a rocket launcher which I completely forget now how we managed to acquire -- but then in a completely creepy, nightmarish twist, all the greasy little bear bits start to piece themselves back together and it comes after us again! Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! D: My alarm thankfully went off before I could find out if I died a gruesome death or not.

Ugh. Bad, just bad. I then spent the morning getting ready for work while being paranoid that a grizzly was going to jump me at any moment in the hallway. It's like after I watch Jaws and then for completely irrational reasons am than afraid to have a shower.

Grievous is finished! He now sits in the corner of our main room, looking incredibly badass as he stares out across the span of my living room. Considering how enormous he is and how many pieces it took to put him together, it was surprisingly easier to assemble than I thought he'd be. He's not very sturdy though -- he wibbles a bit there and wobbles a bit there, but he has yet to fall down. *Joy*

Update on exciting house shopping! (Or at least, the prelude to exciting house shopping that inevitably must be done before actual house shopping can occur.) We've gotten in touch with both a realtor and a mortgage broker. We'll be meeting with them both over the course of this upcoming week and have a tentative date next Sunday to begin looking at our first houses! *SQUEE* Very very exciting~

So there’s this dream…

Wednesday, January 16, 2008 -- 12:05 pm
Mood: 03 Introspective

People who know me very well may be aware that on a regular basis for a few years when I was a kid I would have the same dream again and again. Some times every couple of days, other times it would come and go for the span of a couple weeks. In any event it was unequivocally "Brenna's Dream", and in a nutshell it boiled down to being in my grandparents house and having a T-Rex stalking us outside. I'd hide in a giant empty vase in the spare room upstairs and through a crack in the porcelain I would see the Rex's enormous eye peer in at me through the bedroom window. Then it gets all muddly with some random dinosaur rampaging destruction and the next thing I know my family and I are being chased by the T-Rex down a boat dock, and then I'd wake up. (And did I mention the sepia? The entire dream is in sepia colors. Yeah. Sepia. *shrug*)

Eventually I stopped having the dream and kind of forgot about it, until that is Jurassic Park 2: Lost World came out in theatres which I saw with my friend and nearly pissed my pants when my entire dream seemed to play out before me on the big screen. It was insane and I remember going home afterwards and flailing to my Mom and Dad that Spielberg had stolen my crazy dream story somehow, if I could sue, and if I could demanded royalties of some kind. That's not really the point of this whole story, but I think it's amusing.

In any event, after years now I'm suddenly having the same dream again, it differing sometimes from the original though because now it's me and my family in the backyard of our old house. There's my sister and I, and obviously the good ol' Rex (who I get the impression in the dream is a regular terror of our quiet neighborhood, it's more like "Crap, he's back. Duck and run. You know the drill.") We see him on the street coming towards the house and we freak and drop down behind the fence separating the parts of our backyard. Suddenly we're like "Where the hell is Dad?" and Chelle pops her head up and stupidly shouts for him and I get pissed and have to wrestle her back down into hiding. Then all of a sudden we're with my Mom in a cross between our shed and garage, and we're all boarding up the windows and cowering near the walls as the Rex's eye revolves around outside the windows. Then I wake up. I'd like to note that there is a disappointing lack of sepia tones in this version of the dream.

So I'm wondering, this is nuts, why am I suddenly having this dream again? Does someone out there interpret dreams? What the hell happened to the cool sepia? Please interpret and get back to me.

I Googled it quickly and the first result I got back was the following:

Dinosaur 

To see a dinosaur in your dream, symbolizes an outdated attitude. You may need to discard your old ways of thinking and habits.

To dream that you are being chased by a dinosaur, indicates your fears of no longer being needed or useful. Alternatively, being chased by a dinosaur, may reflect old issues that are still coming back to haunt you.

*So confused*

Nee ta ma duh tyen-shia suo-yo duh run doh gai si!

Wednesday, June 14, 2006 -- 7:39 pm
Mood: Hunger demons are eating my insides

"Fuck everyone in the universe to death!" Firefly quotes are the best quotes simply because they're in that crazy Chinese. LAWL. ~ ♥ Joss Whedon ~

So my crazy dream for this week -- I dreamt the other night that I was dating Sean Bean (which was a fresh change since I usually find myself dating either James Marsters or Johnny Depp when I'm asleep~) The only part I really remember was him and I dancing and grooving around in the upstairs hallway at Sobeys, and while we're dancing Sean Bean is dangling stuff over my head that was either a) silly string, or b) spaghetti; but in either case seemed very charming in a strange goofy sort of way. Dream Brenna was very smitten with dancing Sean Bean, which isn't very surprising in itself since Reality Brenna is also very smitten with Sean Bean at times, dancing or otherwise. Methinks I've been watching too many hours of LotR special feature DVDs the past week. Then again, it's never exactly a bad thing to dream about sexy dancing Englishmen~ *YUM* X3

Apparently I made the Dean's List Honor Roll at NAIT this year~ I got a big envelope in the mail today with a letter that said my weighted average came out to a nice fat 91% (damn you Business Management class bringing me down with a C!!!) I was very excited when I started reading the letter because I thought they were about to give me money or something grand, but instead of "OMG YOU ROCK HERE'S $$$!" it was "OMG YOU ROCK HERE'S THIS PIECE OF PAPER SAYING SO TO HANG ON YOUR WALL!" *Holds up her honor role certificate* It feels like high school all over again. Anyway, still cool and way better to receive in the mail than bills.

[ Rant to follow ]

All right, if I get one more middle aged woman at work ask me if we have the new issue in of People magazine out with the Brangelina baby on the cover, I am going to flip out and beat them unconscious with the debit pinpad. This is not the next coming of Christ, lady, it's just a baby. First off, the cover of the magazine has been in the newspaper and on the news, so if you know about it in the first place, then YOU'VE ALREADY SEEN THE BLOODY BABY! JEBUZ, what is the crack addict-like obsession some people have with delving into every miniscule bit of actor's personal lives? I openly swoon over the thought of a hot, sexy famous man like any other female on Earth, but I don't feel the compulsive need to hunt down pictures of his children and read about every place he eats, what he buys, and each step he takes outdoors. GET ANOTHER HOBBY, PEOPLE. YOU CREEP ME OUT.

[ End rant ]

Spiderman 3 has officially been added to my list of movies I'm rolling on the floor to see this year, right up there with drunk Johnny Depp pirates in Pirates of Carribean and adorable tap dancing penguins in Happy Feet. :D I'm so excited to see the movie version of Venom, I think I'm going to kill something. I've been trying to find pictures on the web but either I'm a really crappy Googler or they haven't been leaked yet. I still think Topher Grace is a rather stringy Eddie Brock, but apparently they're modeling him after the Ultimate Spiderman version, which is much more Topher Grace-sized. They've decked him out with some bleach blond spiky hair for the role. Let the sexiness ensue. X3

>_< I suckered myself into signing up for deviantART account. I really have nothing to say in my defense, when the bandwagon rolls by after a while you just have to jump on or get run over. Anyway, the link has been added to the My Own Hands list on the left if anyone is interested in the silly things I draw, which remain mostly uncolored and neglected on account of me being horribly lazy.