Category Archives: Dreams


Shamelessly mirroring one of the blogs I follow, I’m going to combine prompts in a wild menagerie.

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Last night I was riveted to Twitter as I followed the saga of #MPRRACCOON. If you’ve been away from the news, this was about a plucky lil “trash panda” who got trapped on the ledge of an office building in St. Paul, MN, and when some workers tried to rescue her, she scampered onto the UBS tower next door and started climbing up up up. Now, some of you may remember the story I poasted a while back of a raccoon who killed one of our parking lot cats. Since then, I’ve not had a favorable view of the creatures. But all that changed yesterday as I (along with loads of other folks) rooted for the Twin Cities bandit to make it through her ordeal safely. We held our collective breath as she began to climb again, hoping she wouldn’t plummet to the ground. She stopped, went down, and seemed to be done for the night. I went to bed not knowing her fate and checked Twitter as soon as I woke this morning, so happy to see she had made it to the roof!

Speaking of buildings, the other night I had a very weird dream. I was in a house with my daughter and we couldn’t find our cats. So, naturally we decided we needed to look in our other house. I love that in my dreams I have not only one, but two houses! Yay me. We walked outside into the snow ~ apparently it was normal for there to be snow in southern California, but it wasn’t that cold. We didn’t have coats on and just tramped through the snow in our regular shoes. Crunch, crunch. We did remark on it, like oh yeah, it snows now ever since the something. I wish I could remember what “the something” was in my dream. I’m sure it was important. Anyway. We entered house number two, and there were the kitties. But inside this house everything was all snowy. I guess roof construction hadn’t caught up with “the something” yet.

The most vivid dream I ever had was when I was around 7 years old. I was at the zoo and a wolf either got loose from an exhibit or I entered his cage by mistake. He trapped me in a corner and ripped out my throat and I died. I know you’re not supposed to die in dreams, but I did. Then I woke up and had strep throat. This is not to bash wolves. I have huge respect for them and wildlife in general.

That’s it for the prompts, except one, and nope I am not introducing zoobloggery to my repertoire here ~ it’s just a coinkydink that all the snippets have to do with aminals this time. Soon we will be back to noodling about movies, food, and migraines, patting myself on the back again for leaving Facebook and dating sites, whining about writing, etc. You know, all the topics that make this blog so darned irresistible to fans everywhere. Until then… mwah!


Like a Reprieve

Like a reprieve
Comes soft morning breeze;
Unwrinkled sheet between
Bisecting yet connecting
Blazing dreams
And cold quotidian chores.
A chance one more
To drift weightlessly
In apricot-tinged hope—
An undemanding tightrope
Thin glimmer
Love’s gold shimmer
A carousel of birdsong
Rose-petaled dawn.
Almost here
Almost there
Hearts tossed in the air—
One last shuddering streak
Violet periwinkle pink
Soon to dissipate
In the bright eye of day.


The Daily Prompt: Pink

Since You’ve Been Gone

Stephen King has a short story in Bazaar of Bad Dreams called “Ur,” which is centered around the notion of an experimental Kindle with an extra menu feature that gives access to alternative literary realities. Forex, say you type in a random number… in this world of words Shakespeare lives five more years and writes a couple more plays. You get to buy, download, and read these plays on the new Kindle. It’s addictive, as you might imagine, for you could spend day after day checking random numbers and writers to see if your favorites appear in parallel universes with new works to read.

But it’s also comforting to know that the authors we love will continue writing in their familiar styles in the alternate realities. If we search for Ray Carver, we don’t want to find vampire romances. We want what we expect. Most of us anyway. That’s why when I go to a vegan restaurant and order a lush looking dish of macaroni & cheese I’m invariably disappointed ~ it appears so beautiful and cheesy, but it never tastes as expected. I’m always better off with a salad where the veggies taste the way they’re supposed to.


I dream about my mother frequently. This month is nine years since she was diagnosed; next April nine years since she’s been gone. In my dreams, she just goes on as she ever was ~ present, helpful, sometimes annoying. Nothing super dramatic. In the last one, we were at a table with a bunch of other people (I don’t remember who) discussing an arts & crafts project. At one point, I turned to my mother and complained that my pantyhose kept getting runs in them the first time I wore them, sometimes right out of the package. She commiserated. I don’t remember if she had any advice, but it’s almost certain she would have. Because Mom.

This was a comforting dream. Mom was being Mom.


In the King story, the protag next discovers that the experimental Kindle feature also has alternative reality newspapers. Some of these are funny, especially King’s election ideas. And then our protag finds his local future newspaper. ~ doo doo doo doo ~

I am highly enjoying Bazaar of Bad Dreams.

Two for Tuesday ~ Driving Dreams

I’ve had two disturbing vehicle-related dreams since I bought my car in early January. The first dream occurred a few weeks ago. I was driving Sweet Caroline with one of my exes sitting very close to me. Really close. In fact, he was squashing me up against the driver’s door to the point where it became hard for me to steer. But I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to make him angry. Or interrupt him while he was jabbering away about something or other. But I ended up driving off a cliff. I gasped and then he noticed what had happened. He told me not to panic but to steer to the right and there were definitely things we could do to mitigate this unfortunate circumstance if we kept clear heads and used logic. Blah blah blah blah. He was still talking when I woke up.

I don’t know if that’s true. Should you steer to the right if you drive off a cliff? LOL

The second dream occurred last week. I was with this same ex and this time we were in his pickup truck. He was driving, yet even so he was somehow again sitting so close to me that I was squashed up against the door, this time the passenger door. He had the passenger window all the way down and locked in place, and he kept circling past this group of three dogs, stopping so they could jump up in my face, snapping and snarling. They hated me and wanted to kill me. I was so scared and asked him to please move over so I could get away from the window, but he wouldn’t. For whatever reason, I didn’t ask him to quit driving near the dogs. Finally, after doing this repeatedly with the dogs able to get closer to me each time, he opened the door and pushed me out on the ground to be attacked and killed. Then I woke up.

What’s weird is that I hardly ever, if ever, dreamt about this ex at all until now. Nothing memorable either. Something about the new car is triggering something about him? Idk. I do think and talk about him sometimes, as I think and talk about my exes generally, for life-clarification purposes, mostly to myself. Talking to yourself is a sign of genius, yo! I read it on the internutz somewhere.

An interesting thing that only just occurred to me is that since I moved to California my car pattern has been like so: blue Alliance, beige Stanza, blue Camry, beige Camry, blue Camry, beige Corolla. Huh. This must mean something!

Dream interpreters, fire away!

Dos Sueños

I think about driving a lot. Not in the guy-sense of woo I’m such a great driver, vroom vroom, but in the terrified doom sense of feeling I’m going to die in a crash at some point, either because I do something stupid or (more likely) some maniac smashes into me. Then there is the less dramatic but still horrible feeling that any day one of my daughters or I will end up in a minor accident. And massive paperwork/hassle/financial-messiness will ensue.

This isn’t anything new/weird for me. I just don’t talk about it that much.

And it isn’t irrational ~ car accidents are pretty damn common. This is a more reasonable thing to worry about than, say, your kid getting abducted/molested by a stranger, which people obsess over constantly.

Not that worrying helps unless it causes you to drive more safely or, better yet, stay off the roads. That’s pretty impractical though.

Earlier this week I dreamt I drove alone to a big house because I had to go to a thingie with my ex’s family. Dunno what thingie, not the point. Point is the house was huge and so was the driveway, yet there were already cars parked in it, all crookedly (I’m famous for my crooked parking), and even though there looked to be room, it was hard to maneuver. I managed to squish my car at an angle between two others. Everything was OK. But then I decided I should straighten a bit, backed up, and mashed right into another car. It was silver ~ this I remember, but not what I was driving or much other detail.

When I looked to my left, I thought I saw my ex sitting in the driver’s seat of a car a little ways away, watching me and smiling, but when I refocused it was some other man I don’t even know.


Then two nights ago I dreamt I was in a house with my youngest daughter ~ kind of a townhouse type of thing, but not a place where we actually lived. She was around 10 years old, and some other girls were there, too, playing I guess. There was a horrible loud noise and I somehow knew it was a plane… went outside and there was an airplane on fire in the sky, with stuff falling out of it, suitcases, whatever. The air began to fill with smoke and ash, but when I turned to go in, my little girl had opened the front door and the cat ran out. She began yelling and chasing it, which made it run more. Papers from the plane were falling all around us while the thing kept flying and burning. Finally my daughter caught the cat and we all went in the house.

At least I haven’t dreamt about tsunamis in a while.

The Ghost Camry

You may recall that my father had a white Camry ~ I took it from him when he drove off in the middle of the night, got lost, and ended up at the Redondo Beach police station. I drove it for a while, but then realized his V6 engine guzzled gas, so I let it sit in my parking lot. A tire went flat and the battery died (apparently you need to start cars once in a while just like Joel said about Daddy’s Porsche in Risky Business), so I sold it. The person who bought it was a neighbor of my ex-husband’s right here in Huntington Beach.

Wednesday night driving back from Irvine I saw the white Camry on Adams Avenue ~ I knew it was the same car cuz I have the license plate memorized. (Yes, I can still do these useless things.) Later I texted the ex that I had seen the car. He said as long as I hadn’t seen one of my parents driving it, not to worry. Hah.

But then early Thursday morning I had a very disturbing dream. I frequently dream about my mother since she died over 5 years ago, and I still miss her, cry about her, maybe not daily anymore, but often. I rarely if ever dream about my father; his death didn’t affect me. Anyway, I dreamt I was at a restaurant and it was raining hard. My father called on my cell and said he’d pick me up. I had been planning to walk and had a big silly pink umbrella. He said no, wait for him and he’d come by. So I walked outside with my pink umbrella and waited.

I waited a long time and was getting soaked despite the umbrella. Finally I saw his white Camry down the street, but he drove past me and didn’t stop. In fact, he sped up and zoomed off like a maniac. I heard the car after I couldn’t see it ~ I thought for sure the next thing I’d hear would be a crash. But then nothing. He was gone.


Hello Mother

I had a dream about Mom the other night. She had made a Great Gatsby tee shirt for me ~ it was dark blue, short sleeved, with white paint squiggles all over that were supposed to be fluffy clouds. Don’t ask me. In the dream, it looked right.

I had shown someone one of my scrapbook photo albums last week and was thinking about my long ago days of arts & crafts. Not sure if this prompted the dream, or what.

A little while ago I opened my Chrome browser (I’ve been using Firefox mostly) and noticed that my old bookmarks were still there, including Baggage Reclaim, my favorite relationship site. The first article was about how some of us struggle to please certain people who have impossible demands and how that’s a never-ending spiral of futility.

The first Unpleasable in your life tends to be that exacting and critical parent or caregiver and if your perspective on their behaviour and how you respond to it hasn’t changed in adulthood, you’re likely to have felt tormented by a similar boss, ‘friend’ or romantic partner. [link]

As always, very interesting bloggery from Natalie, and just in time for Mother’s Day too.


Last night I dreamed [FF dislikes dreamt ~ so much for writing Rebecca II] I was in a house with my father and some other woman, idk who. Kevin Bacon, my brother, was coming over. This was normal. As I got the door, Kevin said quietly, “Hey, is Dad single again?” I said yes. He just rolled his eyes.

The four of us sat in the living room and Kevin picked up a romance novel that was on the coffee table. “You still reading these?” he asked me.

I told him I was and he asked why.

“I don’t know. They’re just fun.” I stared at the cover where a couple smiled at each other dreamily. There was an aqua ocean sparkling in the background and a light blue sky with fluffy clouds. “Look how happy they are, Kevin. They’re much happier than any of us.”

He laughed. “Can’t argue with that.”

Then I woke up.


Note 1: I’ve been watching The Following every week.

Note 2: I now have contact info for a cousin back east and am going to call soon to tell her about my dad.

The Tsunami

I’ve been stressed lately. Things pile up; you know how it is. There are good things too, but even so. I don’t do well with any stress. I like none, zero, nada. Stress makes me worry about more stress. It’s a spiral, a rabbit hole I dive down quickly. And I eat the cake.

I had the tsunami dream a few nights ago for the first time in years. It shocked me. I had assumed all the water/drowning dreams were gone forever. I was high up in an office building, with some other women (I don’t remember if I knew them), and my cat. I saw out the window that the water got sucked out of a pool first, which was different from past tsunami dreams, and of course silly. I was very worried about the kitty. We were right near the ocean, like always.

Asbestos Dust said once that dreams don’t mean anything, and I think that’s right. I don’t think anything really means anything, not even thoughts. We were talking about that the other night at writing group, how thoughts are just the output of a bodily organ and you would do well not to feel too tied to them. Detach and you’ll feel better. You don’t feel tied in the same sense to the output of your liver or kidneys, right? You are not your thoughts. If someone  insults your beliefs then, they aren’t really insulting you. Maybe this is what makes us (retired) flame warriors a little different from the norm. We just don’t really care, right? I don’t anyway. It also helps with writing.

As soon as I write something, I almost don’t care about it anymore. I can take any criticism. It’s nice to hear positive remarks; and of course it’s great to sell something. But negative feedback doesn’t bother me. I think this is why I had fun as a Usenet flamer too (except for the colossal waste of time, which I admit now became a significant issue) ~ while I posted I was in character, and when something was “out there” it was part of a story, more or less, and separate from me (whatever that is). So no insults touched me. The other veterans were relatively the same, I think. New peeps were horrified by this, natch. And you couldn’t explain it to them.

Anyway. Yesterday would have been my father’s 83rd birthday. Today’s the 5th anniversary of my mother’s death. At the end of the month I’ll be 52. That seems so old. My daughters are both in their 20s now.

I’m still trying to write a bunch and do all the things I want to do. But I’m tired.

Lizard Dream

So I was driving around/through a congested area and decided I would get out, go beyond the town, even though that meant I wouldn’t be doing what I needed to do, didn’t care, I took off. The paved road ended and I was driving over sand, bumps, potholes, very fast, couldn’t be good for my car. The “road” was narrow and I saw a truck coming the other way, so I pulled over into the non-road area, cut the engine, decided to walk for a while with my blanket wrapped around me. Note: it wasn’t my green slanket, but my white regular blanket. Last night before going to bed, I spilled tea all over my slanket and left it on the floor to be washed today.

After I walked for a bit, I turned around and saw that the truck had stopped and people were looking at my car, so I went back. A little boy was putting stickers on my car. What are you doing, I asked? Oh, it was just Star Trek stuff. That was OK in my dream. On the rear window he had put a big poster (same one people have been sharing on Facebook last 24 hours.)

Then a man said, don’t step back. What? I looked down. A giant pink and yellow snake was crawling right next to my left foot. Then it bit me on the ankle, tangled itself around my leg. I shook it off. It wasn’t a snake, but a lizard. It started to crawl away, then returned, kept trying to bite me. I ran to my car, but it jumped in first. Then the man said, Dan, get out of there. I didn’t know if he meant the boy or the lizard, but the lizard seemed to listen and got right out.

I woke up crying because it was all so scary. Big pink and yellow lizard!!

Last night I had a date at a cool place, listened to music, had good conversation, etc. Turns out I can drink one glass of chardonnay without getting beastly sick, which is nice to know. But on the way back, I got really confused, as I do, on how to get to the freeway. First, everything here is “under construction” all the time, which is strange since supposedly California is completely broke. Where is all this construction money coming from? Second, they put up a bunch of detour signs and  barricades that make no sense, especially in the dark, and I always have trouble with that kind of stuff. But as it turns out I think I did this right, not sure. Anyway, I followed the detour signs, which made me go down a long, dark, bumpy road for quite a while until I hit the next freeway entrance. So maybe that inspired the dream.

In any case, life continues to be more interesting and less stressful than it was previously. No regrets.