Lisa: A Love Story

Seven years ago I admitted having a dream featuring both David Boreanaz/Angel and Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson. Four years ago I got an Angel action figure for my birthday and brought him to the Crown for some photo ops. Last year, Sarah bought me a vintage 1999 action figure of The Rock at Miah's wrestling match. So, you can see that this meeting was prophesied, long-awaited, and finally inevitable.

When Angel and The Rock ventured outside of their respective residences (possibly a holding cell and a cardboard box at the intersection of Jabroni Drive and Smackdown Hotel Boulevard) and found each other, the first instinct of each was to fight. Angel's heart really wasn't in it, though--much like the events of the episode his tiny plastic accessories are modeled after. Knowing it was a risky move, Angel dropped his knife and went in for a hug. But The Rock is only human, after all--his heart softened and he accepted the embrace. His trademark single quirked eyebrow might have led passers-by to believe his initial surprise was something more cynical, but deep inside The Rock knew his life would never be the same lonely road again.

This is pretty much the best use of my new homemade light box I could think of. Sorry, everybody. Or maybe I should say YOU ARE WELCOME.

Sarah: Friends Say the Darndest Things

Mark:
Favorite quote from a coworker today: I'm not really too familiar with the service side, let me go ask someone who is a little more inept. Hold on...

Mallory:
I dreamed that I was making out with a starship captain last night. We were on an escape pod from the Battlestar Galactica. I had to save the President. We saved her. Then he showed me space and it was awesome. Then we made out. For a long time.
Then.
I realized Marci was sitting in the back seat of our space-car the entire time.
Em. Barrassing.

E (stolen from her blog, but she told it to me as well, so I'm hoping she doesn't mind that I spread the awesomeness):
I teach the six-, seven-, and eight-year-old children at my church.
Lesson: Gratitude
E: Adam, you love soccer. A lot. It's pretty cool that your body can play so well. How can you show Heavenly Father that you're thankful for your body?
A: Well... I could get a plate of cookies and put it on the counter. Then I could leave a note: "Dear Santa, Please give these to God."
E (laughs): That's one way, I guess.
A: Except I don't know if God likes milk. So, if God doesn't like milk, I'll leave a glass of 7-Up.

For what it's worth? I'm betting that God likes milk.

Sarah: Email

To: Sarah
From: Mom
Subject: You're late for school!

Sarah

I had this terrible dream early this morning that we all had to go to the dentist, and then we came home to get a bite to eat before I took you to school, and everything fell apart. I couldn't find both your shoes, or the hairbrush, and you and Jeff (who for some reason was REALLY goofy looking, with flappy ears) were just goofing off, the TV was on, you were turning somersaults and messing yourself up!

We were late! Bad mother dream!

I love you. Hope you made it to work OK in the SNOW yesterday!

Is your car running OK?

xoxooxoxoxo

Mom

Updated to add the following conversation:
Sarah: Thanks for the laugh this morning!
Mom: It wasn't very funny in my dream, with you guys just goofing off and not paying attention to the time! How are you supposed to get an education with that kind of behavior going on????
S: Hee.
M: And to reply to your email, I am fine, other than being a totally inefficient mother who doesn't get her kids to school on time!
S: I'M SORRY!!
M: It's OK. I finally found your other shoe and the hairbrush. And you were looking really cute, with that little red twirly dress on. And long hair that I was in charge of combing. Which is my preference, don't you know.

Sarah: Dream Journal

In the early hours of the morning, my brain came up with a few troupe names:

Natural Gas
A comedy group that cracks jokes related to the environment and living green. Yes, that sounded extremely un-funny to me as well.

44 Waynes and Reverend _______
I wish I could remember the name of the reverend. This name came up because someone else in my dream joked "he's like the 45th Wayne," as if this was a common cultural reference. Then that person had to explain to me who this group was. It's quite sad when you don't understand the cultural references in your own dreams, especially when your brain invented them. This group was a conglomeration of rappers, like the Wu Tang Clan. I am not sure if one must legally change their name to Wayne to become a member. They also sound like a bunch of scrawny white guys.

Sarah: The Good, the Bad, the Excessively Snowy

The Good:

For Christmas, Santa put this lip balm in my stocking. I have just recently started using it, and I love it. The Mint Julep flavor tastes like an actual mint leaf, the lip balm is very silky (like the Burt's Bees lip balm I usually use) and stays on for a nice long time. Savannah Bee products are carried locally at the adorable Liberty Heights Fresh. I want to try something in Orange Mint. That sounds delicious.
And speaking of lip balm, I also want to try this gloss/balm. So log that away.

The Bad:

Even with all of my faults, I've never been tempted to smoke. Sunday night, however, I had a very stressful dream.
Social complications and major life decisions rattled in my brain. So what did DreamSarah do to calm herself? She took a few delicious drags from a cigarette. I breathed in the smoke deeply. I felt my brain clear. The cigarette cleansed and purified my body and mind. My lungs expanded with the smokey air and life seemed immeasurably more manageable.
So I guess the point of me telling this to you is: Um. Why? Why did my unconscious mind want so desperately to smoke that sweet, sweet cigarette?

The Excessively Snowy:

More snow! Can't it just be spring already? My car was fine when I drove to work this morning, but was covered by several inches of snow by lunch time. I'm ready to wear shorts and read a book in the park and go barefoot! Oh well.

Sarah: Does this count as a seven degree thing?

I dreamed about Kevin Bacon. I know. Don't say a thing. Not even cute, Footloose Kevin Bacon, but older, hollow cheeked, floppy haired Kevin Bacon. Technically the dream wasn't ABOUT Kevin Bacon, but featured more prominently his wife, Kyra Sedgwick, whom I was having lunch with. I have no idea where my apparent fascination with this couple came from. I must have been in some sort of trouble, or at least I was hiding from something, because although we chatted about the new job I was about to start, I wouldn't tell my old buddy Kyra where I would be working. After Kev-y joined us, I left my purse leaning against the leg of the picnic table while I walked up to the hot dog stand counter . Through the thick fog (hey, where did that come from?) three men in dark suits rushed up to the table. One left a note near Kyra and whispered in her ear while another reached down and took my purse before I could reach it. I ran after him, but I could not catch up to the man. He searched my purse as he walked, discarding items that did not provide the information he needed (he threw my phone, wallet, and iPod! How inconsiderate.) until he came upon a globe paperweight. This mysterious thief carefully peeled off the price tag from the bottom of the paperweight, and then left my purse behind. My alarm went of, and I never discovered the following:
1. Why was I friends with Kyra Sedgwick?
2. Why didn't Kevin Bacon help me retreive my purse?
3. What was on the note?
4. Why the paperweight pricetag?

It was a strange and extremely specific dream. At least I didn't kill anyone in one of Lisa's trademark Dreams of Extreme Rage and Violence.

Sarah: Days Go By and Still I Dream of You...

My dreams have been boring, but these two tales from my friends J and M will delight you!

J: I had a dream that I was having Brad Pitt's baby and when it was born he got mad because it looked more like me than him...
Me: That's way funny. You should tell your boyfriend.
J: I don't think he'd be too happy if he knew I was having Brad Pitt's child.

M: You were in my dream last night!
Me: What did you dream?
M: You, me, Marci, Jessie, and Lisa were playing midnight tag in a place that was supposedly Smith's Marketplace. There was some creepy guy that was following us around, and I tried to tell you guys. But I was it. And you all ran away.

Lisa: Sleep... Oh! how I loathe those little slices of death.

I had a series of disturbing and morbid dreams last night that may or may not warrant analysis.

1. Something involving a helicopter crash into a swamp. Of course, we had to pull out all the dead bodies, including Gwyneth Paltrow, Luke Perry, and Michael Vartan. We rolled them all up into one big bundle with a tarp. After the crash, I decided to hook up with a chubby but nice Agent Sean type. His roommates were very happy for him.

After that one, at about 3 am, I got up and brushed my teeth and washed my face and then went back to bed. I guess I felt dirty?

2. All I remember is visiting Kelso in a prison or detention facility or something. He was wearing a helmet.

3. I was on the set of a new Law and Order spinoff set in the 1950's and starring Christian Slater, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Winona Ryder (as one of a set of twins). I was very scornful of the whole thing, and kept pointing out anachronisms in the costumes.

4. After (finally) having sex with her boyfriend for the first time, a young blonde girl slid into a refrigerator on a little cart and closed the door after herself. This was totally not weird because it was her job and she was a professional. After a few minutes, her boyfriend heard sort of a coughing sound and opened the fridge, only to find her dead with her throat blown open. Believe me, the whole fridge thing sounds a lot weirder when trying to explain it to the 911 operator.

After that one, I woke up (one minute before my alarm rang) and got out of bed.

Lisa: a dream is a wish your heart makes

Sometimes the least exciting dreams are the ones you want to come true. For example, the other night I dreamed that Blake and I accidentally found a GREAT apartment. It was way bigger than ours, really old and cool looking, with sort of a private courtyard area. The best part was that it was filled with a ton of old, ornate, dark wood furniture that the landlord wanted to get rid of. He said we could keep whatever we wanted as long as we sold the rest and sent him the proceeds. Unfortunately, I don't think we're going to find anything like that in Utah. Maybe if we were looking for a place in Italy...

A few nights before that I dreamed that I delivered an intelligent, logical, and not at all psycho-hose-beasty speech to a certain ex-boyfriend all about how we are both adults and don't need to pretend not to recognize each other when we run into each other, which happens to be a lot since we work at the same hospital and ride the same public transportation. I tried to remember what I said when I woke up, but it was gone--which is too bad, because I could use a little help in that department.

Lisa: Dream a Little Dream of Teeth

Yesterday, Matthew Baldwin of defective yeti talked about the "teeth falling out" dream, which I have mentioned before here. He brings up the logical point that grinding your teeth at night probably leads to dreams about loose teeth. I'll have to pay attention in the future--I'm not sure if I've had one of those dreams while wearing my mouth guard.

Another tooth-related dream I've often had involves retainers (you know, dental appliances). There's someone walking up to me in the dream who (whom?) I want to impress with my intelligence, maturity, and sophistication. I try to take out my retainer (which I haven't worn in my waking life for 10 years), but a new, bigger and more cumbersome one takes its place each time I do, a la Bartholomew Cubbins. I end up talking to the person with a huge lisp and feeling like a child. Waaah!

Sarah: Is that a taco, or are you just happy to see me?

So, this morning was ultra-bizzarre. I recently got a job, and my second day was today. I needed to be at work at seven, and so I set my alarm for 5:45 for plenty of alarm-snoozing time. In the wee hours of the morning, I had a very vivid dream where I worked next door to a Taco Bell. I went to this fast food franchise around 8 pm at the start of my shift to get some Diet Coke, and the guy working there (there was only one employee) was surprisingly attractive. Allow me to clarify. This guy was actually not very good looking. He was fine, not grotesque or anything, but I knew that he was SUPPOSED to be hot. So, whatever, I had a dream-crush on him. And I somehow got to Taco Bell without my wallet, so I had to go back to work, get money, and return to Taco Bell. When I came back, there were at least three Taco artists on staff, and the cup I was given for my Diet Coke, aka Sweet Nectar of Life, was bigger than my head. Before I could fill up my cup, I was woken up by my alarm.
Oh Holy Crap!!
My clock said 8:00. I WAS AN HOUR LATE FOR WORK! I immediately went into panic mode. How could this happen?! I glanced over at my roommate's alarm, and it said 6:47. Inexplicable!! I felt like I was in a twilight zone. I checked the time on my cell phone, because my watch died two days ago, and it agreed with my roommate's clock. I wasn't late... yet.
After I hurried and got dressed and wet down my hair (it froze in the 9 degree weather), I got to work. They told me to wait for a minute, and then informed me that they didn't really have anything for me to do, so I should come back to work next week, when they'd have "a bunch of new projects."
At this point, I was completely frazzled. My alarm clock had decieved me, I woke up needlessly early, and it's not very often that you meet a decent guy at Taco Bell! This is not a good start to my weekend.

Lisa: Excuses

I didn't get up and exercise this morning before work, because I was still shaken up by the airplane-crash dream I had had earlier. Seriously, this was a very detailed and disturbing dream! Not to be put away lightly before going about my usual routine!

Here's what happened. I was on a plane, arguing with Will Smith because he owed me some money. The Fresh Prince was trying to pay me in some kind of international airplane money, which was like a long tape on a spool, perforated into inch-long chunks that each represented a different amount of currency from various countries. Will was showing me the spool, and trying to convince me that if I tore off the amount he owed me, I would be reimbursed in my own currency by the airline upon deplaning. At some point during this conversation, I felt a tug on the spool, looked across the aisle, and realized that the tape had come unwound, gotten tangled around a female passenger's neck, and then snaked its way out of the plane through a crack in the wall, where it had presumably come in contact with a burning airplane part of some kind (an engine?). The tape was on fire AND was strangling this poor woman in a grotesque and overly prolonged manner while the surrounding passengers sort of tugged on the tape ineffectually.

Anyway, there was more violence, and then some crashing, and scooting along the runway on a broken piece of airplane wing, and a taxi ride to an apartment in India that I had no memory of living in. How could anyone exercise after that?

Lisa: This means something

I had a very strange dream last night that combined all of the following elements except one. Ten points if you guess which freaky thing I didn't dream about.

Lisa: Phantom Burritos

As you can probably tell from the book that's been in my sidebar, I've started the Atkins diet--or, as cult members call it, the Atkins "way of life." I've found that changing my lifestyle to such a radical degree has made me something of a broken record. It seems that all I think or talk about is the diet. My long-suffering friends, family, and coworkers have been subjected to ongoing prattle on what I can and cannot eat. I haven't been blogging much lately, because I've been updating my online food diary instead. Could this be the effects of brainwashing?

I've even started dreaming about the diet. I am devouring a delicious but carbohydrate-laden food (bean burritos, chips, M&Ms, etc.), when I suddenly realize it is not allowed. I become very distraught, spitting out the bite I have in my mouth and throwing the rest on the ground. Sometimes I even throw myself on the ground, cry, and pound my fists in despair at my stupidity and failure. While the foods change from dream to dream, the scenario always remains the same. Incidentally, Blake says that I chew a lot during the night.

Now, I'm not really complaining--I'd prefer to have stress dreams about food than about gory massacres. But I'd much rather dream about how thin I'm going to be. Or, even better, about Angel.

Lisa: Vah Beach

So, I had a dream that Sarah and I were walking down a sidewalk with my mom, just talking, and she said "But don't you want to lose weight?" and we (Sarah and I) linked arms and started skipping and singing at the top of our lungs. The chorus of our song started with something like this: "It's easier to get FAAAT....than THIIIIIINNNNN!!!!!!" All in all, though, it was better than the dream with the girl whose face had no skin on it. [Shiver.] As has been previously stated, I have serious problems.

In other news, my conference in Virginia Beach (or as the locals call it, "Vah Beach") is going much better than the one in Springfield last April. We're staying in this quaint old hotel that is really charming and fun. No narsty condom wrappers on the floor, and this time Blake got to come with me! Oh yeah, and the conference itself has been good, too.

I should also add that I am writing this blog from our new and fabulous PowerBook G4! Hurrah for Financial Aid!! And for exclamation points!!!

Lisa: Stressed much?

Here are a few more recurring themes from my dream journal:

Lisa: Dream Journal

I've decided to start keeping a dream journal, in an attempt to figure out what's going on in my subconscious. Which reminds me of The Cell, a movie that not only features Vince Vaughn AND Jennifer Lopez, but also lets you see the subconscious worlds of three very different people. The concept was intriguing, the sets were visually stunning, and boy, did it ever freak me out.

Anyway, I definitely have a few recurring themes in my that I could analyze, and also some very violent and morbid nightmares that I would like to gain more control over. Here are a few of the themes I can think of right now: (And thanks to Dream Doctor for the interpretations.)

Loose teeth: could reflect concern about my appearance
Filthy bathrooms: suggests an emotional blockage
Huge locker rooms: possibly indicates doubts about my identity or role

So, there you have it. If I come up with anything astounding, or have any really crazy dreams, I'm sure I'll let you know.

Lisa: Angel Wanna Cracker?

Well, I had another dream about Angel last night. For someone I don't even think is very attractive, he sure shows up in my subconscious a lot. I refuse to acknowledge that I am dreaming about David Boreanaz. It is the CHARACTER! Anyway, this time I was sitting on his lap feeding him crackers. (Crackers?)

Previous dreams I have had about Angel:

Lisa: your family crest is...blue and spiny!

Blake and I were sitting in church last Sunday, and (instead of listening like a good girl) I whispered to him all about the dream I had the night before. You see, in my dream, in “Jewish church,” everyone has to sit according to matriarchal clan, and each person has a crawly sea-anemone thing representing his or her family name attached to the back of his or her chair. There was more along those lines. Anyway, when I was done, he just said “that sounds very…detailed.” Thanks a lot, Blake!