bloodyrosemccoy | Entries tagged with dream theater

This time the Joker had somehow managed to train the Cloverfield monster to follow his orders.

Of course, those orders turned out to be, “Carry on.”

My subconscious has got to be running out of redshirts by now.

Current Mood: be-nightmared

Yay! I got me a Metaquote! (Not nearly as good as Ish’s, though—come on, if you’re a genre-lover who has taken a creative writing class, you have had this experience. I know I have.)

It’s evident that my subconscious is less inhibited about awesome crossover fiction. I still think the greatest crossover ever is not Batman with Doctor Who; it is, undeniably, Wolverine Versus Alien. I am tempted to learn to draw, then learn to draw comics, just so that I can draw the scene with Wolverine’s chestburster, because that shit was comedy gold.*

Makes me sorta sorry I’m going off the Fukitol, really. But since I at least seem motivated to write now, it’s a trade-off, I s’pose.

*And yes, I already thought about the fact that Wolvie’s ribs are coated in adamantium. Clearly he’s still got some non-adamantium-coated costal cartilage, or he’d have a lot more trouble breathing—so presumably the alien could bust through that, and I think they would bend a bit outward from the spine. And quit looking at me like that.

Current Mood: nerdy
Current Music: Mannheim Steamroller ~ Chakra 3

All I can remember about last night’s dream is that the Daleks had declared the Joker their new emperor, and when Earth found out they considered it for a moment, shrugged, said, “Well, we’re doomed,” and went back to their routine. Because when the Daleks put that crazy bastard in charge, you’re so dead it doesn’t even matter what you do, so you might as well just go about your business.

ETA: Not even Wikipedia can save you now.

Current Mood: silly
Current Music: Indigo Swing? maybe?

So after five years of neverending pills, my friends, I have decided to take a stand. The missed doses, the muscle spasms, the brain zaps, the memory loss,* and the dreams have got to go. And so I stand up, and I say to you—“I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore!”

Okay, well, actually, I don’t say that, because I’m talking about being on Fukitol, and one thing about Fukitol: it’s hard to be mad as hell. Complacency is sort of part of the package, which is why it’s taken me so long to get sick of it. Oh, sure, there are a number of side effects, but on the plus side, you don’t actually care!

But lately, I’ve been getting tired of it. And so I went to my psychiatrist:

PSYCHIATRIST: Why do you want to quit?

AMELIA: I am sick of the side effects!

PSYCHIATRIST: The sexual side effects?

(pause while Amelia looks at him blankly)

AMELIA: No! I am talking about the side effects where I wake up and half my face is contorted like Popeye’s!

And so, as of two days ago, I’m on half-doses of the stuff. This phase may last a while, because while Fukitol has a famously spectacular assortment of side effects, withdrawing from Fukitol has even more spectacular ones. Such as vertigo:

MOM: So, how is the withdrawal coming?

AMELIA: *THUD*

And a sudden sensation of electrical shock when I’m just about to go to sleep. And of course the epic, epic nightmares when I do get to sleep, and the waking up every hour or so in a puddle of sweat. Not to mention the abdomen’s protests. It totally makes sense, though: the common wisdom is that your body replaces all its matter every seven years. This means that 5/7 of my matter has never known a time when there wasn’t Fukitol, so I can see why it would plunge into panic now.**

But yeah, it does sorta make it feel more auspicious to be going off a med I’ve been on for five years when I’ve got a fanfare, even if it does come in the form of the floor sliding out from under me.*** And it should fade soon enough.

At least, until I lower the dosage again.

Oh, yeah, the next few months are gonna be fun.

*This sounds a lot more serious than it is. Mostly it means “flakiness.”

**Pseudoscience is easy, kids!

***I become Captain Jack Sparrow. It’s apparently highly entertaining.

Current Mood: wobbly
Current Music: America ~ Are You There

National Shut-In Visitation Day
Pro Sports Wives Day
Satisfied Staying Single Day
White Shirt Day
Birthday - Thomas Edison (inventor)
National Foundation Day (Japan)
Independence Anniversary (Vatican City)
Youth Day (Cameroon)
Amelia adds: Lychee's Birthday!

My subconscious makes a lousy fangirl. I had a dream about running into Ian McKellen in a movie theater, and instead of me somehow turning him straight with my ethereal beauty and changing-color eyes and whatnot and then us shagging wildly,* I sat and chatted with him about books and listened to him recite passages from the play whose movie adaptation he was going to be acting in.

I distinctly remember myself saying, “It must be rather frightening to take on a role you care so much about and worrying that you may not do it justice.” To which he nodded moodily and then noted that his entourage would be waiting for him. As he left I thought, “What a nice man. I should send him a card, but he probably won’t know who did it.”

That was it.

I’d be crankier at my subconscious, but in fact I often am like that when I’m awake—I play up wanting to shag my befanned chosen wildly, but I don’t actually have much interest in it. I just know the rules of fanfic because of the internetz. Can somebody be sexually autistic? Because I think I am.

*This particular Ian falls into the list of Old Guys I’d Shag. There are a few others in this elite group, too!

Current Mood: crazy
Current Music: James Taylor ~ Only One

Pooh Day
Anniversary - Lewis & Clark Expedition Commission
Lee-Jackson Day (Virginia)

Last night, on Fukitol Theater:

We joined our hero in a small cell, awaiting her execution at 4:00 and rather surly about the whole business, and then we switched to her first person POV because it’s less cumbersome.

I had been captured by some villain—I was not supposed to be the hero, I had been captured playing the time-honored archetypal part of Ensign Ricky Redshirt—and when four rolled around I was going to be killed along with three other people. I wasn’t particularly bothered by this, since I figured (somewhat optimistically for a redshirt) that my family would show up to rescue me before then. But as the hour drew inexorably nigh, I started to get worried—suppose my family got held up? What if, despite their best efforts, they didn’t make the deadline? That would not be good.

So, as the guards led me out at zero hour, I rolled my eyes and said something like, “Fine, I’ll do it myself.”

This would have been a bit more of a problem if I weren’t a geek whose head was populated with supervillains who take forever to kill people. But since it is, the captor in question happened to be the Joker, and his evil plan was to pit the four of us prisoners against each other in some sort of elaborate Survivor-style game where we killed each other off, only I knew that he would just kill the winner anyway. Screw that. So instead of joining the antics of the other three in their fight to the death, I decided to kill our captor in the best way I knew how: I was going to get the three things Anansi used to trick gods into getting themselves killed.* I had to ask three Generically Tribal statues for these items, but it occurred to me that I didn’t actually know what they were or how the hell I was going to use them. “Dammit!” I thought. “If only I remembered that myth!”

So I did what any self-respecting person faced with this dilemma would do: I found a computer and looked it up on Wikipedia. I didn’t think this was actually legal in the Joker’s little game, so I was being very sneaky about it, but one of the other prisoners found me. He had the personality of Neville Longbottom and said he was a Canadian so he was going to talk to me instead of trying to kill me,** then went on to complain about how one of the other players (

jadewing) had cut off his internet access. I wanted to tell them that This Is Exactly What The Bad Guy Wants Us To Do and that We Should All Work Together!, but I figured nobody would listen, so instead I just finished my research and resolved to kill the Joker before the game got out of hand. I knew I was being rude to the guy by ignoring him, but he’d thank me in the end when we were all not dead.

Unfortunately, before I could figure out what the three items were, my alarm clock rang. This turned out to be another way to escape, but I’m sort of curious as to where the dream was going to go after that. What were these three items? Did I succeed in overcoming my redshirt destiny? What happened to everyone else? What kept my family—or Batman, for that matter? These are the questions I am left to ponder.

How was your night?

*I realize this is not actually part of the Anansi mythos, but you try telling my subconscious that.

**My subconscious, apparently, enjoys Canada jokes. It also enjoys really awful puns, though, so apparently my sense of humor is only intelligent when I’m awake.

Current Mood: curious
Current Music: Flogging Molly ~ Another Bag Of Bricks

UN International Day of Innocent Children Victims of Aggression
Flag Day (Finland)

All right, my subconscious has done it again. A couple of nights ago, I had the most intensely erotic dream ever—

About pie.

Yes, pie. And no, I can think of no better word to describe it than ‘erotic.’ There was nothing sexual about the pie at all, nothing like that. It was just that, in the dream, pie was an intense sensual experience. The dream narrative went something like this:

Delicious pie. Look at this apple pie. Beautiful, isn’t it? The top of the crust is so crispy and flaky. See the way the sugar on it sparkles. Can’t you sense the texture of the cinnamon now? That crust would melt in your mouth. And it’s so beautifully formed and fitted to the bottom crust at the edge—and that crust is a crust you could sink your teeth into. And if you peek under the crust—see those delicious, full slices of apple under the steam? Look at that filling, so sweet and sugary, and those slices are just the perfect consistency. Biting into those would be enough to send you into shivers of ecstasy. This is the best pie in the world. The other neighbors all burned their pie. But you’ve got your whole delicious pie to yourself. You can eat it with a tall glass of milk. Beautiful pie.

This was accompanied by camera swoops and pans,* and a steamy apply scent. I woke up positively aching for apple pie.

The best part, though, is that I don’t even like pie.

Yeah. I make sense.

*Oh, come on, I know you dream cinematically. Who doesn’t?

Current Mood: content
Current Music: OC Remix ~ Pirates of Dragon Roost Isle

John Parker Day
National High Five Day
Patriot's Day (Fla)
Sumardagurinn Fyrsti (First Day of Summer - Iceland)

Had another awesome dream last night. New Zealand had been rented by DnDers, who would hold an epic LotR-type campaign there every year, only instead of a table campaign, it was an actual campaign. With magnificent giant swans, mystical books, and car chases. You had to bring a lot of survival gear.

gondolinchick01 will be delighted to know that she was there.

Things I learned: Apparently Elven Queens have a term of four years, and are chosen by lottery. Aragorn has a minivan. And Lothlorien has, hands down, the best gift shops ever.

Now there's a DnD campaign I'd go on.

Current Mood: cheerful

Academy Awards
Birthday - George Harrison (musician)
Birthday - Pierre Auguste Renoir (artist)
National Day (Kuwait)

“Maybe we shouldn’t go out there,” Marvin said. “You seem indisposed.”

“I seem indisposed?” Kerry said. “You’re dead. How much less disposed can you get?”

This morning, just before I changed from asleep to awake, this is what surfaced. I don’t know any more than you do about this mysterious partnership, but I’m sort of intrigued now. Anyone want to tell me what’s going on here? Or will it remain forever shrouded in enigma?

Current Mood: hmm

Carnival Season
Epiphany
Little Christmas
Twelfth Day
Three Kings Day
Admission Day (New Mexico)
Christmas (Armenian)
La Befana (Italy)

Happy Epiphany, everyone! Or ¡Feliz Día de los Tres Reyes Magos!, if you’d prefer.

To celebrate it, my evil subconscious decided that it would—gods help us all—make an epic dream featuring bad puns.

I was in a mixed class of Deaf and hearing ASL-speakers. I think it was supposed to be taught in ASL, but it wound up being a telepathic lecture. A pair of suits, like a step down from the Men In Black, were teaching us something about the history of magic. “Is anyone in here a mage?” one asked.

This was the call for the mages (I wasn’t one—the dream made this clear) to show off. They did some floating-stuff Jean Grey junk, and then one girl in a sheer hippie shirt got up and released seven bats from her sleeves. I was impressed, even when one bat got stuck in my ear and then crawled around my hands feeling kinda creepy. I excused myself to the bathroom, which was through the gym, and after I cleaned up the guano I exited. A Deaf student from the class was walking by the cheerleaders, and the coach started yelling at me to see whether he’d picked any of their pockets. He clearly hadn’t, so I followed him and had a lengthy conversation with him in ASL—actual ASL—telling him to report that teacher for profiling him.

Then I went back to class, which ended, and then began the true intrigue. One of the professors in the school had drugged the bat girl and left her lying on a bed in one of the classrooms. His plan was to find the seven bats before she could, and then he would train them to play sports and thus they would follow his master plan: he was going to make the world’s first team of actual baseball bats.

At this point in the dream I actually paused and said, “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” I may have to fire my subconscious for that.

But it was a dream, so I told the drugged girl I’d find the bats (not that she cared) and set about looking with the help of a demonic but adorable ginger kitten whose head kept falling off until I tied a ribbon around its neck. And we set out into the sunset, to find some bats before we missed the bus back to campus. On to our next adventure!*

Yeah, even weirder than usual, I know. There’s actually an explanation. The plan this year is to take the Fukitol every other day, thereby hoarding it for my trip to Kenya. This means that I get to have withdrawal, which includes crazy dreams and rotating three pairs of pajamas each night because I’m sweating. With any luck that’ll taper off.

I’m not sure if stupid puns are also a side effect, but if they are I might have to wean myself completely.

*Some sort of Shrek fanfiction, I think.

Current Mood: oh, good grief
Current Music: James Taylor ~ Everyday

I had the most amazing dream a few nights ago. I have mentioned that I have dreamed in different languages before, including ASL. I have mentioned the epic nature of some of my dreams, how some are miniseries, and how my dreams appear to have commercial breaks.

I don’t think I’ve mentioned the physical sensations.

I remember being told that people dream in black and white. Even as a kid, I thought that was bullshit. I dream in Glorious Technicolor, Breath-taking Cinemascope, and Stereophonic Sound. And not only that. I have dreamed pain—probably not very accurate pain, as a bee sting that big in my foot would probably elicit more pain, but still it was there. I have dreamed textures and the feeling of weightlessness you get in water.

But this was the first time I ever experienced goddamn G-force in a dream.

It was a roller coaster. It was doing impossible things that involved me falling a lot. It swung me around and up and down, and it was completely dark. It was actually rather like being in the giant war machine in The Thief and the Cobbler, except that I felt completely, totally safe, although I was rather uncomfortable. My stomach migrated around as I was swung back and forth and up and down, and my head prickled like blood was rushing to my scalp. And when I lurched to a halt, I was out of breath and unnerved.

Makes me wonder if the BFG has been paying calls to my room while I’m asleep.

At least it’s entertaining, though.

Current Mood: sleepy
Current Music: Saint-Saens ~ Danse Macabre

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Page Summary

Fukitoff, Phase Two: The Side Effects Strike Back
My Inner Nerd Is Even Nerdier Than My Outer Nerd
Still Having These Effects
Fukitoff
Fukitol Theater
Tune In Next Time To: REM!
When I'm Not Around
Elven Pudding
Intriguing ...
Amelia's Evil Subconscious Finally Crosses The Line
More of Amelia's Evil Subconscious

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The Desert Mermaid

I Am The Boss Princess

Entries tagged with dream theater

Fukitoff, Phase Two: The Side Effects Strike Back

My Inner Nerd Is Even Nerdier Than My Outer Nerd

Still Having These Effects

Fukitoff

Fukitol Theater

Tune In Next Time To: REM!

When I'm Not Around

Elven Pudding

Intriguing ...

Amelia's Evil Subconscious Finally Crosses The Line

More of Amelia's Evil Subconscious