shanmonster: (Purple mohawk)
I dreamed I was going to visit a friend in Toronto and had to take public transit. I knew roughly which stop to get off at, but then I had to look up the route on my phone, because I couldn't remember how to walk there. For some reason, the first part of the address was "Front Line Assembly." I typed it in time after time after time, and each time, autocorrect took over and turned it into something completely different, and wrong. The frustration was building and building. What did my phone have against industrial music, anyway?

I never did get to my destination. My friend must still be waiting for me.
shanmonster: (Zombie ShanMonster)
The people across the street live in what I call the junk house. Their yard is littered with garbage and broken things. This morning, I was amazed to see a man cleaning up. He was picking things up and sticking them in a garbage bag. At one point, he got something sticky on his hand. He kept wiping it on his pants, then finally gave up and licked it off.


The night before last, I dreamed I was buffering happiness.

Sometimes I love my subconscious.


I've been continuing on my burpee challenge. Today is day 69. Some days are harder than others, but I've yet to miss a day. Though I'm not done, I call this experiment a success. About three or four months ago, I hated burpees. The thought of them filled me with a serious case of the oh-nos. But now they're no big thing.

Yesterday, on my FaceBook wall, I ran a little experiment. I put up this graphic:

By my cut-off time of 10:45 pm (I wanted to go to bed at a decent hour), I'd gotten 213 likes. I spread them out in groups of 10 throughout the day, on top of my 68 burpees, and guess what? Like the burpees, it was no big thing.

I'm not even sore today, which surprises me. I guess I've levelled up again.

A few peanut gallery strangers showed up on my FaceBook wall and gave commentary. One expressed doubt that I'd go through with it. I can't help but wonder why he would think this, especially of someone he doesn't know at all. Maybe it's because he's projecting. Maybe because he wouldn't do it, he assumes the same of others. I find that peculiar and sad.

One other stranger showed up and said that people encouraging me to do push-ups was taking away from attention on world hunger. Time spent clicking "like" on my image was ostensibly taking away from clicking on the click-to-give-a-dollar charities.


The Dream

Jul. 17th, 2011 09:25 am
shanmonster: (Tiger claw)
Once upon a time, I dreamed regularly of war. I was a soldier. Sometimes I died in these dreams. Sometimes I took part in atrocities. Sometimes I was a hero. But I haven't dreamed of war in years, at least, not until the night before last. The dream wasn't detailed. A convoy traveled along a railway line in a narrow valley, driving trucks and armoured cars and such. But the enemy had set up blocks along the valley which could not be passed with the vehicles. The enemy thought this would stop them.

It did not.

Their vehicles useless, the soldiers began to march. The tromping of their feet made the ground shake, and they marched onward, despite the artillery being fired upon them. They did not take cover. They marched on implacably, stepping over the bodies of their fallen. The smells of blood, dirt, shit, and cordite filled the air.

The enemy were astonished at the tenacity of the soldiers. Some laughed at their foolishness. Some were awed by their bravery.

And then I woke up.

The Dream

Jul. 13th, 2011 10:18 am
shanmonster: (Tiger claw)
I'm a man, and I have a handsome, blond brother who looks like a cross between Alexander SkarsgÄrd (Eric, from True Blood) and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (Jaime Lannister, from Game of Thrones). I harbour an intense lust for my brother, and I am determined to seduce him. He eventually gives in, but something terrible happens, and his penis gets cut off before we can consummate our eros for one another. You would think such a traumatic event would be memorable, but I cannot recall how his penis came to be cut off from his body.

Distraught, I clutch his severed member in my hands, and then stuff it down my pants pocket. It gradually cools and shrinks in my pocket, but for a while, it is warm and comforting held tightly against my thigh.

Then I wake up.

The Dream

Oct. 8th, 2010 11:54 am
shanmonster: (Default)
There are numerous gaps in my teeth. Several teeth are missing. More are broken. Holes abound. So I take my jawbone out of my head and look at it. I realize the holes are rather evenly placed, and I put my fingers over the gaps. It's similar to the fingering position for a flute, so I blow on one end of my jawbone and start playing it like a musical instrument. I am able to play a few basic tunes. A woman asks to try, too, and I pass my jawbone to her. She tries, too, but my playing is better. Then I wake up.

The Dream

Sep. 14th, 2010 09:07 am
shanmonster: (Default)
I decide I want to race [ profile] knightky, so we go looking for brontosauruses to ride. We choose our mounts and sit up on their backs. I give mine a kick, but she doesn't really feel it and keeps grazing. Kyle's isn't going anywhere really fast, either. I yell at mine to giddy-up, and her head suddenly veers toward me at high speed on its enormous snaky neck. I barely dodge out of the way, and then she starts to lumber along, all while that horrid "California Girls" song plays over and over.

The Dream

Sep. 9th, 2010 11:39 am
shanmonster: (Default)
I am in a car with my parents back in New Brunswick. My Dad is driving. We are headed toward Mactaquac Park, and are approaching the sharp turn that goes to the causeway. Dad floors it. We are going 220 km/hour, and there is a construction crew working on the turn. Summer students are working all over the place, and there are dump trucks backing into the road. Dad won't slow down. He runs over a few piles of bookbags and jackets that are in the middle of the road, for some reason. We're headed directly toward a large dump truck blocking the middle of the causeway, and Dad won't slow down. I put on my seatbelt and brace for impact.....


I'm home, with home being a house I've never seen before. Shaun and Kyle are visiting. They both have short mullets. Neither will talk to me, except to brush me off. Kyle has a new tattoo on his ribs. It's really bad. It's some sort of terrible flash art with bad script on it. I can't read the script, because Kyle is being evasive about the whole thing. He and Shaun go off somewhere and ignore me for the rest of their visit.

And then I wake up.
shanmonster: (Default)
I don't know what I was dreaming, but I woke up with a jolt while yelping in fear at something. I'm pretty tired today. I guess adrenaline boosts in the middle of the night undo any rest you would normally get.

My bad foot has started acting up again this week, for the first time in months. I think it's because I wore my Doc Martin Mary-Janes all weekend when I did a lot of walking. They're very heavy, and I think my bad foot can't handle heavy shoes for a prolonged period of time anymore. I hope it's feeling better really soon. I have dance performances coming up, and don't want to be gimpy.

I want to learn how to weave a rag rug and to felt. I have so much gorgeous fabric, I think I could make a beautiful rug.

Well, it's time to go to the dentist. Again. Hopefully there will be no earthquake, this time.

The Dream

Aug. 4th, 2010 09:05 am
shanmonster: (Default)
There's some sort of girly beach show: a live nude girls sort of affair. I'm one of the women in the show, a ridiculously busty woman in a long fringed suede vest and not much else. I gogo dance and swing those bodacious tatas around like a wild woman. I take the vest off in a creative fashion, and catch the eye of a sociopathic scuba diver with a bushy black beard. He drags me off to a large moat around an office building. My ridiculous boobs disappear and I'm regular me again. I dive down into the water. It looks like Vlad Tepes' Sea World. There are stakes everywhere with dead and dying women impaled on them. The water moves their hair like fronds of seaweed.

The scuba diver is busily taking an axe to the legs of one of the women. She doesn't bleed. She's been dead a while. I swim to the bottom and hang on to one of the stakes, every now and then bursting to the surface for a breath of air before diving back down. I think he doesn't kill me only because I'm not trying to get away. And then I wake up.

The Dream

Jul. 12th, 2010 08:47 am
shanmonster: (Default)
I'm walking along a road when I notice a paperback novel lying on a side path. I go over to pick it up. It's "Of Mice and Men." I look further down the path and see more books, so curious, I walk over to see what they are.

A gate closes behind me, and it is suddenly night. The next book I pick up is "Little Women." I still see more. I bend down to pick up another, and a shuriken comes whizzing toward me, nicking my arm. I throw myself behind a rock for cover, and a couple more throwing stars come whirling out of the air at me.

I wait a bit, gather up the weapons, and look around. I realize the books were the bait for a trap. I'm being hunted. I can see a woman stalking the hills, looking for me. I wait until she has passed behind a rock, and make a run for it, diving into a little gully.

I just miss a snare. The area is booby-trapped. Every now and then, I see more books. They are all literary classics. "To Kill a Mockingbird," "Catcher in the Rye," "Heart of Darkness," "Wuthering Heights," etc. I resist the temptation to pick them up. The woman is now throwing small bombs at me. I run and dive for cover again, and wake up.


Jun. 23rd, 2010 09:15 am
shanmonster: (Default)
My stomach still hurts this morning. Grr.

Dentist visit this afternoon, too. Grr redux.

I dreamed that scalpels, needles, daggers, and other sharp things skewered my thighs, and I had to move carefully lest these poky things bang up against things and hurt me.

I have no idea why my legs were all stabbity, but they looked something like this:

[Wound Man]

My knitting is coming along nicely, at least, and Shaun is coming to visit me tomorrow, so good stuff is happening. Phew....

Link time:

How to Convert an Ordinary Suit Coat into a Tail Coat: You never know when you're going to need tails.

All-Natural Almond Milk Recipe: A recipe I'm going to try out to see if it helps with my upset stomach issue.

Gimcrack Hospital: A blog I recently discovered for myself that's full of all sorts of interesting ephemera.

The gayness of Nightmare on Elm Street 2 explored : It's really, really gay.

This picture makes me smile.

[Not naked if you're wearing a coat]

The Dream

Jun. 17th, 2010 10:02 am
shanmonster: (Default)
I'm sitting in my chair when movement outside my window makes me look. It's a large turkey vulture, floating on the air currents, wings spread wide. It seems to hover right outside my window, which I find thrilling, because it means I can study the bird at leisure. It suddenly veers toward the building, and lands on the window sill above me.

It poops on my window sill, then flies away.

I walk out of my room. I'm in a different apartment, but it's still home. I walk by a bedroom and could swear I saw the vulture inside the room. I peek inside, and yes, the bird is walking around in there. I'm all excited. I have a pet vulture!

I go into the kitchen to see what I might have to feed it. All the meat is in the freezer, and I think I'll have to defrost some in the microwave. The bird walks in, and just like a dog, starts wriggling and wagging its tail in pleasure. I pat it on the head, and then realize I'd accidentally left a couple of raw steaks out on top of the microwave for a couple of days.

Since vultures like rotting meat, I pick them up and toss them to the bird. It starts tearing into one of them and I wake up.


Apr. 8th, 2010 10:40 am
shanmonster: (Shh...)
Anyone who knows fairly well knows I loathe calling people on the phone. Yesterday, I had to keep calling the appliance repair centre over and over again.

So last night, I had a phone dream....

The phone rings. I answer it. It's someone who wants to book a hotel at with Delta Hotels. I go through my Delta Hotels spiel, find out what city and what hotel they want. They then mention they are attending a conference. I go to look up the conference rate, only to realize, wait a minute. I'm at home. I don't have access to any of the rates or availabilities. I don't have the software. How did this person call me at home? At a loss for what to do, I say, "I'll be just one moment," then hang up on them.

Then I wake up.

I sure hope the washing machine gets fixed today.

The Dream

Feb. 13th, 2010 02:07 pm
shanmonster: (Shh...)
I dreamed I was making out with Neil Gaiman. It was very awkward, and he had terrible skin. I escaped him by waking up.


I have absolutely no idea where that came from.

The Dream

Oct. 14th, 2009 08:14 am
shanmonster: (Default)
I'm in a comic shop when a comic book suddenly catches my attention. It's issue 5 of the 12-issue series Poison Elves vs. Alien. I pick it up in excitement, and ask the shopkeep if he has the first four issues, and he says no. Then I wake up.


The Dream

Apr. 25th, 2009 09:54 am
shanmonster: (Tiger claw)
A small, incredibly detailed, and low-hanging black cloud with strange wisps appeared in the sky above me. It moved quickly, and I ran through the apartment, from one room to the next, watching it through the windows. And as I watched, a long column descended from it into a beautiful, black tornado. The column was striped, bulged in entasis, and the top of it ended in an Ionic capital.

I stared at it in awe, this black tornado that was also a fine example of classical Greek archaeology, scared to blink in case it should disappear.

Then [ profile] f00dave came home, breaking my concentration. When I looked back, the tornado was dissipating into a long, thin brown wisp. And then it vanished and I woke up.

The Dream

Mar. 28th, 2009 01:37 am
shanmonster: (Default)
I disguise myself as a man and break into a men's prison. While there, I watch a man excise his third nipple with a pen knife.

Then I wake up.
shanmonster: (Default)
Life lesson: Don't wear a thong under camo shorts while doing squats. You'll get a chafed bum.

Dream: I'm standing near the front of a bus on a highway when I notice the clouds are growing funnels. A tornado touches down close to me, then dissipates as suddenly as it appeared. Then another tornado whooshes past. Oncoming traffic swerves to avoid it. The tornado is dragging along a huge yellow tractor. I can see the slumped driver staring at me with his dead eyes as the cyclone passes by me. And I wake up.

shanmonster: (On the stairs)
My shortest-ever weird dream happened the night before last. It was simply this: I dreamed I was tea-bagged by Hitler.

Don't ask, because I have no idea.

Link time.

Lunchbag Art: Every day, a dad decorates lunchbags for his kids. I think that rocks (thanks, Ted).

Diary of a Pakistani Schoolgirl: "A Pakistani seventh grade schoolgirl is writing a diary after Taleban militants in the troubled north-western Swat district ordered schools to close as part of an edict banning girls' education. Militants seek to impose their austere interpretation of Sharia law and have destroyed about 150 schools in the last year. News of further attacks and a Taleban invitation to public floggings appears in the latest extracts of the diary, which first appeared on BBC Urdu online."

Insane Feats of Strength: This guy blows me away. I am amazed. It's also compelling evidence that you don't need expensive equipment to get in shape (thanks, [ profile] gha5t).

Andrew Wyeth died (last week, I think). Though he has been derided as a pop artist, I have no shame in admitting I love his artwork, and find it very moving. The German is one of my favourite paintings of his. The model is Karl Kuerner who had been a German soldier in WWI (I think).

The Dream

Dec. 16th, 2008 06:01 pm
shanmonster: (Sigh....)
The world is filled with androids who look like they are made from the same plastic as Barbie dolls. Until now, they've gotten along just fine with humans, but something has made them change. They have begun to murder humans. They are devouring them, swarming on them like zombies or piranhas and tearing the flesh off with their teeth and their hands.

But one thing slows them down: a small boy, no older than eight years old. Very few humans are left, now. Kathryn and I have been chased by androids into a large complex, and I see the little boy. He leads us to a closet and hides us inside. Then we hear him speaking with the androids and it becomes apparent that he is seen as a god by the androids. They will listen to him -- to an extent.

He leads us outside the complex, the impassive androids flanking us all the way. Then the androids begun to walk ahead of him, towards Kathryn and me. Blood from their last victim splatters them. We start to run, and they speed up.

Sirens blare from all around, and I wake up to fire trucks driving by.

July 2017

232425 26272829


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 23rd, 2017 03:44 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios