I had gotten a steal on a huge house. A house with hidden rooms and tucked-away stairwells and the kind of complicated, byzantine layout that makes one think of the inner ear. There was one room with a wall of windows, each pane capable of opening on its own if you had the proper key, the whole wall lit by large, twinkling glass bulbs that turned themselves on at night. The seller had left behind…
Last night’s Nyquil-induced dreams were incredibly long and detailed — the kind that you can fall right back into after you wake up wondering what the hell is going on inside your skull. The only bits I can really remember vividly are of being at some sort of dinner theater place, an auditorium draped thick with equal parts velvet and age. My companion and I had front-row seats to some big event, and as we…
Not eating for a couple of days does strange things to a body and a mind. Like, for example, causing a dream in which there is a band field show featuring two kids who look just like the Olson twins (circa late Full House), dressed up as The White Stripes, singing “When I Hear My Name.”
Last night I dreamed that I had awesome clandestine closet sex with Barack Obama at a party. And then I felt really, really bad for doing such a thing to Michelle.
I can’t sleep in my childhood bedroom anymore. This has been a problem for a while now. Every time my head hits the pillow and my eyes flutter shut in the darkness, I see things. Shapes of things looming. Eyes watching. Bad things. When I finally get ahold of myself and drift off to sleep, this absurd cycle of anxiety-ridden dreams and nightmares gets started. Just now I had entered that delicious limbo phase when…
• I woke up yesterday with a brand new grey hair. Funny thing is, I can probably pinpoint the exact moment it sprouted Thursday night. • Our office calendars use the Futurama credit-sequence font for the names of the months. This pleases me to an exceptional degree. • Speaking of calendars, I still don’t have one in the apartment for 2008. I’ve also decided that I need a datebook so I can write down appointments…
Because sometimes I dream about Tom Cruise, Vladimir Putin, machine guns, and political unrest.
I’m having the worst time falling asleep tonight. I suspect that has a lot to do with getting totally shitfaced at 3 p.m. and then passing out at 6, only to wake up and lounge around, still fairly tipsy, until bedtime. I laid down at 1:30, read a bit, then turned out the light and tossed and turned through a series of dream-limbo misfires — the kind that put you in such unpleasant scenerios so…
Weird, weird dream last night. I was chewing on some sort of fish or small-animal bones (why?) and I broke my front tooth. It hurt and looked ridiculous. I was so embarrassed, but couldn’t concentrate on my pitiful mouth because I was too busy trying to evacuate a house that was quickly becoming uninhabitable. According to some dream web sites, dreaming about losing teeth indicates that you’re self-conscious about something, or feeling powerless. It can…
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