I have been having the most vivid dreams since my mom's injury. I waken from them astonished at their intricacy and absurdity, sleepily trying to psychoanalyze myself like college trained me to do. I enjoy dreaming - usually I just have nothing - that blacked out oblivion that foreshadows death. However, I often feel that my dreams aren't as restful because I waken midstream, and that sleep cycle remains incomplete. And then, they fade quickly as I awaken to the harsh reality of my present nightmare.
Last night I dreamed that I was at a party (?) andDM was there. He had a large binder of reggae songs - not sheet music but just pages of lyrics - and when there was a lull in the conversation he opened it up and started singing a cappella. Everyone joined in.
(01-24-2019, 01:21 PM)King Bob Wrote: [ -> ]Last night I dreamed that I was at a party (?) andDM was there. He had a large binder of reggae songs - not sheet music but just pages of lyrics - and when there was a lull in the conversation he opened it up and started singing a cappella. Everyone joined in.
Niceness!
Was I in key?
My voice is so raspy now that I give the label 'whiskey-soaked' new meaning. I sound like the bastard child of Stevie Nicks and Tom Waits. It works great for blues, but not so much for reggae. It might work for Dancehall, but you gotta yell in that, and that shreds my tattered throat even more.
You were good - you can sing better in my dream than in real life
(01-24-2019, 02:09 PM)King Bob Wrote: [ -> ]You were good - you can sing better in my dream than in real life
Not the first time I’ve been told that...
Stacy got me some valerian tea and it knocked my ass out last night but I did remember one dream. I was in China with Jonny going to some event. It was at South Shaolin, where I've not been, so I was excited about it, and we were waiting to be picked up for something but I forgot my camera. I ran back to my room which was like a disheveled antique shop but the door was locked so I considered crawling through the broken wood & rice paper window, when I realized I could just remove the slide latch. I rummaged through my luggage searching for my camera. My PRC escorts come in to get me for the trip, talking to me in Mandarin which I can understand enough to reply. I find my camera and put on my shoes (which apparently I didn't have on before) but they are two different shoes, a white vans and an orange vans (vans don't fit my feet which has always saddened me) and they are on the wrong feet.
Stacy says this means I need to tidy up my room. Which is probably true. But messy sparks joy with me.
Stacy said Ivor appeared in her dreams recently. He was giving her acupuncture with a lot of needles. tg was there too, and Elaine Avila and Jennifer Bailey showed up. I was off at a picnic table in Disneyland with Lea, our graphic artist's sig O, who makes balloon sculptures for a living (the balloon part is real - I just added that to make her dream seem more surreal).
Another remembered dream after valerian tea, and another about work. I hate dreaming about work. But my work has suffered with being away for my mom, plus it's been hard to focus on writing tasks, or any tasks for that matter, so it's not surprising that my subconscious is dwelling there. The office was being remodeled and all of the Tiger Claw phone receptionists were transferred to our side. There was an adjacent room where I was moved, one corner was lined with this awesome 70s wallpaper (a nod to the 50+ year old orange and gold wallpaper in the dining room at my mom's house which I've been thinking about since the cat was hiding there). My desk was across the room from that, but I wanted to move. And if not there, I was hoping that another room filed with files could be moved so as to set up a bigger barrier between me and the TC employees, because they were super noisy and I had to concentrate to write. Just as last night's dream had a test anxiety undertone (as I'm going through this test right now) this one was mostly about writer's block.
I might skip the valerian tea tonight.
No Valerian tea last night but I remembered my dream and it was a genuine DOOM Dream because Greg was in it.
And no, it wasn't wet. ew.
So I'm filling in at the counter of some sort of shaved ice shop. I don't know what the fuck I am doing there. The first customer comes up and I struggle to make the shaved ice order but fail miserably. It's some weird flavor, like coconut and sour cream. The shaved ice comes out all gloppy and I try to shape it into a nice ball with my hands so the customer can't see. I go to ring up the tab but I can't get the register to work. I look up and the shop is packed with waiting customers. Greg is against the wall, sitting at a counter. I plead with him for help. He rolls his eyes and makes some comment about my lack of cash register skills, then starts ringing up customers. I go back to filling shaved ice orders very sloppily.
I dreamt I was talking to Ace Frehley of KISS. We were just having an idle conversation, sitting on a couch, and Paul Stanley was behind me. He was talking to Michael Franti. Ace got all excited and snapped a pic of the two of them, and I photobombed it. I was trying to remember it during my commute, and randomly Franti was mentioned which jogged my memory.
Stacy said Ivor appeared in her dreams again. This is the third time. She said this time, she was telling him to stop appearing in her dreams because it was annoying.
Sorry — I’ll stop.
Have I told you that she gave me one of the best pieces of wisdom taht I have ever received in my life? I share it with my students, esp the the overwhelmed teens.
We were in the kitchen at the imaginary 55 Highland, and I had said that I “should” do something, I forget what it was exactly, and Stacy said “‘Should’? That word causes a lot of unhappiness.”
I will never not be in her debt for that.
(02-06-2019, 03:39 AM)Dr. Ivor Yeti Wrote: [ -> ]"‘Should’? That word causes a lot of unhappiness.”
Ha. Yeah, that sounds like my wife. I'll have to drop that line on her someday and she how she reacts.
Stacy saved me. If not for her, I would've sure ended up a nine-mile skid on a ten-mile ride. The DOOM Deadheads here know exactly what I mean.
I thought we had a no Deadhead policy?
(02-06-2019, 03:27 PM)Greg Wrote: [ -> ]I thought we had a no Deadhead policy?
Blasphemy!
I'm rather proud that I got most of the non-DOOM deadheads to see Jerry when he was alive. We have very fond memories of Scapino's pith helmet getting stolen, of Yeti's leather jacket marching through the crowd of spinners like, well, a yeti, of the cfs on stage for Chinese New Year, and of you Greg, telling me the jams were too long and holding a barf bucket at some raceway show...actually maybe that bucket was Phish.
As for ED, LB, KB & tg, I remember right well, I remember right well...
What a long strange trip(s) it's been.
(02-06-2019, 04:58 PM)Drunk Monk Wrote: [ -> ]I'm rather proud that I got most of the non-DOOM deadheads to see Jerry when he was alive [...] of the cfs on stage for Chinese New Year...
The rarest of opportunities and a treasured memory to survive the most dire black hole plummet, Stephen Hawking be damned (but most respectfully); we remain indebted for your generosity.