Mark #2 - The Stars - Being Poor - The Graveyard - My Old Horses/Neighbors - SKOOOLLL

AKA a cool bunch of snippets!

Throughout the night, I made a huge, conscious effort to remember everything.  Everything.  So, whenever I would awake, I came up with a keyword for the dream to help me remember it.  It appears to have worked, because I actually remember more than usual.

The cool thing is, I even dreamed of writing down the keywords.  Talk about dream control.

Anyway, on to the dreams!

Jerry confronted me one day about how he knew about the party and what had happened.  I had no idea what he was talking about.


Then suddenly, unbidden, I remembered what he was talking about. It all came to me in a flash.


I had gotten drunk and had sex with our (irl) neighbor, Mark.  (not the coworker Mark.  Wow, I know a lot of Marks.)


I felt horrible, with immediate regret.


I did not get a good reading on what Jerry felt.  We can all assume it was not pleasant.  :|  *poker face*

Our neighbor Mark is an older guy, probably around 30 or so.  (For those that don't know, I'm fricken 19.)  He is a bassist in a garage-type band.  Jerry and I are on pretty friendly terms with him, cause he is a pretty cool guy.  He's got a little dog named Izzy.  Perfect conversation starter.  We see him out walking her a lot, that's usually when we see him to stop and talk to him.

But, not only does he have a lovely girlfriend and a happy-ass little dog, I don't think of him like that.

My brain probably went "Okay, okay, cheating dream, pick a person, preferably male-- AH.  MARK THE NEIGHBOR IT IS, WHEEL'O'SEX."

Guess it could have been worse.   Poor Mark the Neighbor.

I was lying with my Mom's cousin (so my first cousin? second?) and her daughter in their room beneath a huge sea of glow in the dark stars that covered all the walls and ceiling.  I felt at peace.


I know exactly how this got cranked out.  On Christmas Eve I was left alone too long with my period having just started that day, so I got rull, rull lonely.

Jerry was off with his family.  I do not get along with his father, and I think I might've had a stomachache.  Regardless, I didn't go to this awesome party that I loved last year with his family because I am a pussy who could not face his father.  (That I'm a Pussy feeling may have brought on the stomachache.)

So, I tried to go to work to talk to my coworkers.  And, uh, the only people there were new kids I barely know.

Feeling like a loser, I crawled back to my car.  In the midst of a crying/screaming/hysterical woman fit, I texted said cousin, being incredibly intrusive and asking if I could come over and crash their Christmas Eve plans.

Luckily, their Christmas Eve plan involved McDonalds and lying around barely dressed watching Tosh.0.

And Jerry and I just put glow stars up about three days ago, and I feel really peaceful looking at them.  This dream just combined warm fuzzy feeling + warm fuzzy feeling for a dose of happy.

In the mall, I saw a dress I really wanted.  When I inquired about it to a cashier, she told me it was just supposed to be a long shirt.


I looked back, and the whole damn display had changed.  (like dreams do.)


So I told her I would just take the long shirt, but found out it was $89.  I raegquit out of poorness, saying loudly to the cashier that I had better things to be spending my money on than ugly clothes.


Oh, no, my cheap brokeassery is making its way into dreams D:

I was back at one of my old houses that I have not lived in since I was seven or eight.  A man outside the house asks me if I wanted to come in, so I did.


This is a safe dream, no fears of predators or harm.  It is reflective.


I know what house this is - the house where I first found Buster.  (my first and only dog; read the last part of this post for full details)


In the dream, I got the notion that this was also where he was buried, while in reality, he is buried at a different house, because he died after we'd moved away from this one.


I procrastinated, doing other things around the house to avoid going out back like I knew I needed to.  but finally, I did.


The backyard is set up like a maze - it's over an acre of backyard, and my father used to mow it so that taller grasses would give it a maze effect.  Large stones dotted the grasses, and I found where he was buried, in dream, and sat and pondered his life and my life since.


I have not dreamed of Buster in years, and suddenly I've had two in the last month?

I think this might be me struggling to come to terms with his loss, after all these years.  It's still so painful that my brain wants me to move on, probably.

Carrying on with the past bit, on to the next one.

At the house I lived in in Tennessee right before we moved out of state (the house where Buster is actually buried), I was wandering along in the backyard like I always did.  My neighbor's horses, that I have not seen in the six years since I moved, came up to the fence like they always used to, letting me pet them.


When I left this house in reality, one of the horses was getting older, not doing so well.  But in the dream, she is as beautiful and healthy as I remember her.  I was beyond relieved to see all four of them happy, healthy, and still familiar with me.


I glance over to the neighbors on the other side of us and realize that we have not visited them since the move, even though we were so close right before the move.


This one move altered my life forever.

I was thirteen, just finished eighth grade.  My mother can't breathe in Tennessee, you see - the mold, pollen, any moisture, etc makes it impossible.  So she moved us first to New Mexico.  When she was unhappy there, we moved to Colorado, where they are now.  I myself moved back to Tennessee right when I turned 18, but that is a whole 'nother adventure.

So, I have a lot of grudges about getting moved like that.  And then getting moved again.  All the while, trying to keep my long-distance relationship with Tennessee-bound Jerry alive.

While in the end, I got Jerry and am back in Tennessee, the past still haunts me.

Okay, okay, the next dream is humorous, neeeext.

There is this brand of Vodka called Skol.

source: http://www.bartonbrands.com/

Anyone who drinks will tell you that it is the worst thing you can possibly drink.  It's super cheap - the smaller varieties even come in plastic - and people only buy it to get super drunk super fast.  Or if they are just poor.

My history with Skol is that I had an apartment party with some coworkers one night, and one of the attendants left his vodka in my fridge.  I called him up the next day like, hey, dude, there's vodka in my fridge.

He said I could keep it, so I eventually drank it all.

I've only had a couple brands of vodka, so I didn't realize the reason it was so dry/bitter/stingy was because it was the cheapest goddamn vodka in all the world.

This was also back before I knew to keep vodka in the freezer, if this puts it in perspective.

I mean, if someone left a liter in my fridge again, I'd probably still drink it (I hate waaaaste), but I know definitely not to ever get it for myself.  Cheapass vodka.

So, in the dream, I was stuffing Skol into my freezer while another coworker (who has been at my parties), Meagan, put tupperware made out of pressed condom wrappers back into my cabinets.


If there is deep symbolism in this condom wrapper/Skol/Meagan dream, I'm totally missing the mark.

That is it for me.  Finally!  Wow, I dreamed a lot.

I ate McDonalds right before bed like a real 'Murkin.  I had two McDoubles and a large fry.  O me o my.
I slept from 11 - 8 or so, but it was super choppy (that usually helps with remembering dreams.)  I was up and down all night between Jerry going to and from work (12 - 4a, wtf?) and our cats jumping on me and/or licking me.  Grr.

A Whole Lotta Stuff Crammed Into One Little Post

So I've been slacking on posting all the dreams lately.  I've been getting up super early this week, so it seems like all the crisp detail I'd had is gone by the time I could post.  So, here's a bunch of snippets~

I worked at a wardrobe coordinator for Kanye West.  Everyone that worked for him hated him, but we tolerated him.  Later in the same dream, I met Lady Gaga, but it was not even a big deal.  We waved at each other and kept walking.


I don't know if I like or dislike Kanye cause I've never listened to his music / the only thing I know about him is that he got up on stage while Taylor Swift was getting some sort of award or something.  As for Lady Gaga, I think if I saw her in real life I think I'd just stare blankly at her with a dumb look on my face.  (in a good way!)

That guy from Iron Man 2, Whiplash (picture below) was attacking my work place.  Through fear and whatever else, I managed to dial 9-1-1 and the police arrived and were magically able to take him down despite the hell he gave Iron Man.  hahaha.

image source : wikipedia

I'm lame.  I saw Iron Man 2 but not the first one.  But this guy and his crazy bird were hella scary, yo.

I walked into what was like an abandoned mall with a bunch of guys sitting around on the benches in front of all the closed shops.  They asked me to strip, so I did.

Impromptu stripping?  YaIcandothat.  Weird, but in dreams, everything makes sense.

I had a little duck that I loved and called my own.  I took the duck to the pond to let it play with other ducks. I thought that the bond I shared with this duck was special, so that if I called it back to me, it would come.

It didn't.

I can think of several people the duck could have represented... and how I've been shaped into having separation anxiety by people that I thought would still come back to me even after shit boyfriends.

....okay, there's four people this could be.  Only one of whom I still talk to, because she grew a pair and proved that I had misjudged her / she still wanted to be close to me.  Applause for you, lady.

For the rest... keep on perpetuating a stereotype.  G'won, git.

/soap box

Aaaand now we're caught up.  I've forgotten everything else.  Now, on to last night's epic-ass nightmares.

I do not know how, but mine and Jerry's cat, OHAI, died.  We often remind ourselves in real life, 'Man, we love this cat so much.  It's going to be horrible when she dies.'

I thought that to myself the entire dream, as I did an Inception-like montage of waking up without her crying, sobbing to Jerry.

So cute.

OHAI is not our only cat, but she is a perfect cat.  (We have another, but she is a fiesty little kitten that leaves us with scratches, haha.)  OHAI cuddles us to sleep, has a loud purr, licks our fingers like a puppy would, never scratches or destroys anything.  Best of all, after she got fixed, she started plumping up, so now when she offers her belly for scratchins, she's an adorable little ball of fluff with limbs sticking out.

I do worry about losing her, because there is not a single thing I dislike about this cat.  I love her.

Luckily, she's only about two now, so we (hopefully) have a long and happy life left with this wonderful girl.

I was trapped in a house, late at night, alone.  It's dark, my parent's won't be home until the morning, and my paranoia kicks in.

First, it's little flashes of white along the walls.  Then, it's a white face raking over the ceiling.

I bury myself in the covers, willing it away.  But then, the sounds start.  Howling, shaking, rattling.

Just as I'm about to lose it... the front door snaps open, and in walks my first, and only, dog.  Buster.  Deceased since 2005.

His body is strong again, and I know in my heart he must be an angel.  The light he emits chases away all the shapes in the darkness.  And I rise, going to meet him.

He's everything I remember.  A black lab, with big brown eyes and a white chest.  A red collar with a rabies tag, but no name tag.  I wrap my hand under his collar and he leads me out of the door, which closes behind us.

We walk for hours along a little paved country road, until it's already morning.  No cars pass us.

There is a time skip where I do not remember what happened, but eventually, I am back with my parents and he is gone, and we are unloading the house in the daytime because they believed me when I told them it was haunted.

I can't think of this dog without crying.  He was my best friend, and actually saved my life (or at least prevented disfiguration) when I was younger.  I was walking around my neighborhood when someone's unchained bulldog rushed at me.  Buster came out of nowhere, apparently having followed me, and intercepted the bulldog and held him off until my father was able to catch up to me and grab me.

While very scary, it is one of my favorite memories, that really solidified and exemplifies my feelings for this dog.  I was 13 when he had to be put down, but I still cry whenever I think about him.  There's just some animals that never leave our hearts.

Well, that's it for me.  I know I normally put a summary at the bottom, but I was not paying attention last night.  I ate a cookie before bed and probably slept a good 12 hours.