dglenn: Spaceship superimposed on a whirling vortex (departure)

Finally managed to fall asleep and stay asleep for ... [checks] ... nearly an hour and a half. (Oh. Well, that seems anticlimactic.) Woke up because a dream got too detail-heavy to support its own weight and burst: I was on a pirate ship, apparently in the PotC ficton since we were talking about trying to capture Jack Sparrow (this is already odd, as I've not seen any of the movies yet!), and what started making it fall apart as a dream was that as a result of that conversation we then sat down to work out exactly how much faster our ship was than Sparrow's, under what conditions ... and that turned into, ah, something in between {looking-up the combat navigation rules of the game our universe existed in | choosing which sail-racing or naval-combat game to swipe the relevant rules from |creating a yacht-racing game that would also scale up to pirate ships and down to Laser-class and generalize to use as part of a combat system from scratch and trying to work out how to best model the real world effects of crew-experience on various points of a race} in order to determine how long it would take us to overtake the other ship when it was trying to evade us and which tactics we should use. And that brings up the second odd point: I've never played a yacht-racing tabletop game, only even ever looked at a naval combat ruleset once about twenty five years ago, and the closest I've come to ever playing a naval combat game was a couple of sessions of Star Fleet Battles (yes, I know that spaceships do not use sail power...), also about a quarter-century ago.

When it got to the point of starting to designing a table of situation modifiers to skill-rolls to determine the likelihood (and magnitude) of a mistake at each possible action-point (tacking, overtaking, turning to bring weapons to bear, etc.), the amount of detail I was trying to track and manipulate became more than I could manage at the same time as I was also following the plot and sensory aspects of the dream, so, *kerplop*, I found myself awake again. ("Dreamer overboard! Man the lifeboa... Oh, never mind, too late, they've woken up.")

Y'know, I really do not think ninety winks was enough, however fascinating the problem of modelling the effects of skill and experience in a contest between two nearly-perfect crews in closely matched ships seems at the moment. And that was what {we-in-the-dream | er, I-the-dreamer} were/was assuming would be the most difficult part of the racing/combat model we'd have to get right if the ruleset were going to work for both a modern America's Cup simulation and a tall-ships era pirate game. (I'm not sure whether to elaborate on what I came up with before I woke, or assume that it'll just be re-inventing the wheel (okay, bad idiom to pick given that we're talking about ships -- but since ships that size are going to have a wheel to control a rudder, rather than a tiller or just a steering-oar, I'm allowed, right? We hadn't gotten as far as adding biremes and triremes and little 1- and 2-man fiberglass hulls to the game design yet ...). Then again, the whole concept of being aware that we were operating within a tactical simulation game and trying to sort out -- or to choose -- the ruleset within we which we existed, was nearly as fascinating as the modelling problem, and it didn't have the surreal "transplanted into the game from 'reality'" or "things even feel turn-based" aspects of, say, Erfworld. Everything seemed natural and continuous (and the air tasted rather salty, but I digress) except for the "can we do this?" and "how do we do this?" tactical and strategic planning conversations and the awareness of charts of probability modifiers.

[ETA: And here's the third odd thing (or is it fourth?) -- it wasn't until I'd already posted this and started to fix the typos and missing words that I finally got around to asking myself, "wait, what makes me think that I know enough about sailing to know what factors to consider in such a simulation or what the effects of mistakes will be?"]

Sheesh. Sorry about the run-on sentence and paragraph structure. An hour and a half of sleep was obviously not enough. Why does my body insist on waking itself up too soon?

I'm having trouble shaking this "I need to finish the game design that I started in my dream" feeling. But good googly moogly, I do not need another Project right now.

dglenn: Spaceship superimposed on a whirling vortex (departure)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 02:46pm on 2007-05-20 under

In one of my dreams last night, I overheard two people talking in the background (I no longer remember what the main action was -- whatever it was, it wasn't as memorable as this fragment):

"I'm still waiting for my hands to come into tune."

"Oh, I'm still waiting for my hands to come in."

There was a definite sense os "come in" connoting "grow in"/"grow out".

dglenn: Spaceship superimposed on a whirling vortex (departure)

Ugh. Felt more tired most of today than I had last night, which was annoying enough but not unexpected after a long day like that, but then I woke up from a nap during which I had a dream that included a shouting match with Pat Robertson over his throwing out a whole lot of my stuff and a lot of other people living in my house whom I hadn't made any agreements to let live here ... and when I woke I had a blinding headache (which I am now trying to knock down to "able to go to rehearsal" levels in case I have a ride to 3LF tonight). Ow. Ow and -argh!-.

dglenn: Photo of clouds shaped like an eye and arched eyebrow (sky-eye)

Not sleeping well lately; mostly leg issues.

Dreamt I was some sort of stage manager / entertainment coordinator or something for a large event where Dept. of Fath Homeland Security decided that musicians were suspicious because they carried too much stuff and some of it was electronics, so they made all the musicians park farther away and lug everything in by hand through inspection checkpoints, so all the musicians / engineers / roadies were late and pissed off and I had to try to calm them down and get everything back on schedule. (Dunno whether this was related to having read about a bomb squad blowing up a £1000 bat detector that was part of an environmental impact study or something, just before falling back asleep the second time.)

That dream somehow managed to seque into one about playing with 3LF at a small outdoor festival (smaller than the Maryland Faerie Festival), discussing nuances of dances and their corresponding music afterward with members of the audience while loading gear into a car that was a cross between a 1970s Corvette (C3), a 1984 Corvette (C4), and ... whatever year of Thunderbird was really tiny and had the funny, curved back seat, but the dream car was much more Corvette than anything else despite having a rear seat) ... and, on waking reflection, apparently a TARDIS -- I was fitting stage risers into it at some point. We wound up trying to determine the year of a particular dance and someone with a wireless 'net connection Googled the choreographer and found out he'd died young in 1920, allowing us to determine that the dance was probably from between 1910 and 1920 (for readers not familiar with 3LF, that's centuries late for most of our repertoire). It seemed as though we were trying to talk about the Maltese Bransle, but remembering some of the moves the dancers demonstrated now that I'm awake, it was actually a cross between Karabushka and The Electric Slide with just a smidgen of Maltese left in it. (Actually a rather pretty dance, especially since Emma, whom haven't seen in ages in real life, was there in her uber-voluminous ethnic dress with a skirt that comes out to about twice as much fabric as a full-circle skirt; it moved really dramatically for the steps I dreamt about.)

I think that noticing the incongruity of the Electric Slide steps showing up in a 3LF dance was what woke me.

[ETA: when I woke up with a dream in my head that I felt I had to share, I'd completely forgotten that the automagically-posted quote of the day queued up for today was somebody else's dream.]

Okay, now I'm awake and trying to figure out whether I can get to Riversdale in Riverdale (oops, it's "Riverdale Park" now) by noon for a HCB gig (about half the band, low-key, with some ECD tunes as well as our usual repertoire) since my earlier tentative leads on transportation didn't work out.

Event details, that I really meant to post at the start of the week:

Children's Day
Come out and play! Early 19th century amusements include stilts, hoops, marbles, Maypole dancing, and a puppet show. Refreshments and children's delights will be sold.
$1/child, $3/adult; children must be accompanied by adults.
(Event starts at 13:00, I'm supposed to be there at noon to get set up; not sure how late it goes.)

Er ... anybody going thataway from Baltimore with room for me + guitars + woodwinds?

dglenn: Me in kilt and poofy shirt, facing away, playing acoustic guitar behind head (Default)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 05:26am on 2007-05-05 under ,

[livejournal.com profile] juuro describes an especially interesting meta-dream:

"Since it is well known that the act of observing changes not only the observer but the observed as well, version control seemed crucial to storage of dreams in this dream. Unless a single, clear trail of accesses to a given dream is maintained, a proliferation of variously mutated dreams will be floating around. Thus, in the dream I was returning a dream to the Version Control System, and checking out another one.

"However, as I approached the waking state, I was wondering what is the group that I am sharing a dream repository with."

(2007-04-29; this quote is most -- 80.7% -- of the entry.)

dglenn: Me in kilt and poofy shirt, facing away, playing acoustic guitar behind head (cyhmn)

The good: I just realized that with all the stuff I did yesterday and the additional handicap of doing it starting too early and on too litle sleep, I managed it without needing to take codeine, and with only my ordinary daily dose of Ultram & ibuprofen.

The bad: today I feel utterly craptastic despite having caught up on sleep. My planned short grocery run today is hereby postponed. As is just about everything else under consideration for today. I'll maybe watch some of the television I slept through last night (if I decide that I can bear being exposed to the traffic noise from outside without earplugs), poke haphazardly at a PHP thingie I'm toying with, try to remember what email seemed so urgent to deal with today when I was thinking about it last night, and rest.

Maybe I'll be in shape to do the fun things I wanted to do tomorrow by tomorrow if I let my body catch up this evening.

Still, being able to get through as much of yesterday as I did before I fell over is something.

The power steering fluid is still leaking, but I think I managed to slow it down a little. I'll know better after another day or so of watching it. At least the 'stuttering" of the power assist when making turns at low speed has gone away (though the "mushiness" at high speeds is not related).

I'm getting tired of having half a car. I can drive to the grocery store, so it's not as bad as the time I've had to lug groceries home in a backppack, but I'm still stuck when it comes to anything far enough away to make me nervous about breaking down, or for which there's no reasonable alternative to highways where the minimum safe speed is higher than the "feels unstable" speed of my car right now. Which means any of the rehearsals lately, at least one upcoming gig, visiting [livejournal.com profile] anniemal, and most social stuff. And my selection of stores to shop at is limited by this as well.

Thing is, even when the insurance stuff finally does get sorted out, I don't know whether I'll be any better off. With a $250 deductible on uninsured-motorist claims, I'm not sure how I'll be able to afford to repair/replace my car even after I get the insurance money.

In the meantime, I patiently move the car from one side of the street to the other and back twice a week...

I had some strange dreams last night and this morning. In one, I was helping an older me balance our checkbook by carefully frying receipts in vegetable oil, while a younger me asked questions.

dglenn: Photo of clouds shaped like an eye and arched eyebrow (sky-eye)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 10:33am on 2007-03-17 under

I just woke up from a dream about getting a speeding ticket in Maine for doing 22 MPH in a 20 MPH zone (on a looooong, straight, downhill stretch, one lane each way with a median, after I had made two U-turns to get out of the way of faster cars behind me ... who turned out to be unmarked police cars). In the dream, my mother was following me, and we both got tickets. We had to follow the police to ... I'm not sure whether it was a police station or a courthouse ... and fill out very confusing paperwork (which I was asking a question about when I woke up). It wasn't until after I woke up that I realized the friendly but absolutely firm senior officer had a rural Virginia accent, despite conversational clues that she'd lived in Maine all her life.

dglenn: Spaceship superimposed on a whirling vortex (departure)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 08:35am on 2007-02-25 under ,

Oy vey. It's so annoying to dream that I'm reading. Every time I trip over a typo and scan backwards to check context, the text I'd just read changes. If a sentence poses some interesting puzzle or inspires a tangential thought, when I resume reading the entire paragraph may be about something else, or (more often) may have become so jumbled as to no longer make sense. After a few rounds of that, I might get annoyed into waking up enough to realize that my eyes are closed (though sometimes I have to manage to wake up a little farther than that to fully understand that it means the book or magazine I was reading didn't actually exist). And when I make note of an interesting turn of phrase I wish to quote, it likely fades with the rest of the dream in the course of waking up enough to realize I'd been dreaming. And then, of course, there's the problem of half-remembering something a week later as, "I recall reading somewhere that ,,," and not being certain whether I was holding a magazine, or curled up under my blanket with my eyes closed near the end of some night's sleep, when I read it.

So a few minutes ago I woke up trying to reconstruct the riddle that amused me when I figured it out but which I forgot key parts of in the process of realizing that the magazine I found it in didn't exist and I needed to wake up to pee. "Why is [something] like root beer?", and the answer being that they were each one changed letter away from a financial term having to do with automobile loans. I can remember the layout of the page, its background colour and paper type (glossy but thin), and a wrinkle where something had creased it before I got my hands on it, but not the missing word nor why it seemed to make sense.

So is my unconscious telling me that I need to spend more time curled up with books and magazines instead of reading on the computer, reacting to the fact that I spend so very much of my time looking at text in general in any medium, or just being annoying for the sake of being annoying?

And how is what like root beer, dammit?

dglenn: Spaceship superimposed on a whirling vortex (departure)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 11:58am on 2006-11-22 under ,

For a dream that stuck mostly to a single plotline, that was kinda jumbled anyhow ... dreamt that I was going to Goddard Space Flight Center for something or other, with [livejournal.com profile] anniemal, and along the way we met someone who assumed we were there for a ride into space, at which point the story of the dream became that we were going into space but had won some sort of lottery unlike the very wealthy other passengers who had paid NASA to go. The place looked almost nothing like Goddard does in real life, except for one building near the visitor's center -- it looked more like a cross between a very old, run-down airport, and a military base with lots of "top secret, don't go here" areas and armed guards in military uniforms, and I kept getting lost. My excuse was, "It looks so much different in daylight." We finally found our way to where we were supposed to go for processing, and they handed each of us one blue-and-white padded plastic flip-flop and told us to remove our right sock, so we could get surgery -- I think they were going to implant either an RFID chip or some sort of health telemetry in our heels. I'd worn tights instead of stockings & garter belt, and was cursing my lack of foresight. The receptionist who gave us our instructions then made a comment to me about the surgeon, using a very convoluted euphemism to say that he also performed MTF SRS, at which point I looked up in shock and said, "But I don't have my psych recommendation letters with me! Is he any good at that? What does he charge? Can I come back?" And that, of course, was the point at which I woke up.

(Why dream about going to Goddard to prep for a ride into space, instead of Johnson or Kennedy? Probably because in real life I've been to Goddard a bunch of times (other than going away to university, I've never lived farther than a thirty-five minute drive from Goddard, in fact), seen Kennedy only once or twice, and have never been to Johnson. And the excuse from the dream doesn't make sense since I've been there during daylight as well as at night. Dreamlogic -- *shrug*)

dglenn: Spaceship superimposed on a whirling vortex (departure)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 09:55pm on 2006-10-24 under , , ,

I just woke from a charming dream in which the cheerleader from the NBC television series Heroes was a perfectly normal college student studying architecture, asking her perfectly normal father (same actor as her faher in the show) for help with some CAD software she was using for class. Except for ome scene involving the lights not working in one room, I wasn't in the dream, just watching it. I woke when something she asked got me thinking about dramatic modifications that could be made to the type of house I grew up in, in Bowie. (I think it was the act of looking for graph paper that woke me. Oddly enough, one of the mods would have made it a lot like a house another dream -- several years ago, but the interesting house stuck in my mind -- was set in.)

The sucky timing part is that I'd planned to be at 3LF rehearsal for the past two hours, not asleep for the last five. I think this makes a solid month I've missed. :-(

Getting woken up too early this morning by a recently-broken-up couple (high school students?) having a very loud argument over whether to get back together, on the sidewalk below my bedroom window, probably didn't help. ("Yeah, but that shouldn't count! That was when I wasn't on drugs, or it was when I was high but lying to you about it, so you can't ..." WTF? Maybe it would've made sense if I'd woken up a sentence or two earlier, but I dout it.) If I were healthy, I'd just be feeling a little grumpy about insufficient sleep right now; instead the fibro caught up with me and turned out the lights a little before five PM. I'd hoped for a two hour nap, but slept through a couple of alarms instead. Feh.

dglenn: Spaceship superimposed on a whirling vortex (departure)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 03:44am on 2006-10-08 under

Just woke from a dream in which I was dead ... and trying to figure out how to keep my computers running as long as possible after I died. Woke up while trying to figure out how long the automatic payments for the Internet connection would keep working, and whether whoever else took over from me would get to keep the same static IP address.

I'd only been asleep for sixty to ninety minutes, and the waking-up felt very sudden, a lot more like being jolted awake by the sound of a car crash or having one's tent collapse ... or getting a sudden, painful cramp. Hmm. I've got a cramp in a muscle below my left shoulderblade; I wonder whether I jerked suddenly as I woke up and caused that, or that was what jerked me out of the dream in the first place. (It was the "have to stop and think about the details" kind of point in the dream which tends to be a way that dreams wake me up, so it seems likely that the dream was what did it.)

It's a disorienting feeling, lurching from dreamland to the waking world like a driver trying to operate a clutch for the first time. It's a physical feeling of disorientation -- I feel it in my stomach and my gut -- which makes it tempting to perceive it as a feeling of physical disorientation, as though my body had been in a different place, not just a different state ... as though my body had been "in dreamland", not just my mind, however much I rationally know that wherever I go in a dream my body stays in the bed. (But if I type the word 'phenomenology' when I'm this tired, the "Mu-Nu-Mu-Nuh" song will perversely get stuck in my brain, with Muppets singing "Phe-no-me-na" instead of "Muh-nuh-mu-nuh", so I'd better avoid mentioning that particular branch of psychology / philosophy. Whoops, too late. (Yow -- I wasn't expecting visuals to go with the earworm, but there they are. (Wait, am I awake? If this entry exists in the morning, then I guess I will have been awake and actually typing it now. Besides, I don't usually hear the keyboard clacking when I dream I'm typing.)))

Where was I?

Oh yeah -- when science fiction authors depict teleporting or entering/leaving hyperspace as being physically uncomfortable, this is what I imagine it must feel like. (When they describe it as not-uncomfortable or don't specify what it feels like, I imagine it differently.) It's a feeling of WrongPlace, a feeling of suddenly HavingBeenMoved (as opposed to having moved). It's also a feeling of having been moved slightly wrong somehow, so my internal organs aren't quite in their proper places and need a few minutes to realign themselves. There's stomach discomfort, but it's not exactly nausea; it's not the feeling of needing to throw up, but closer to the feeling of already having vomited, minus that really awful taste and irritated throat. (It's not quite that feeling, but closer to that than anything else I can think of right at this moment.)

I don't remember how the dream about being dead and worrying about how long things would continue working started. The last thing I remember before that was a dream of being at an event a little like Pennsic, a little like RenFest, a little like a week-long version of Starwood, at which I found that one of the vendors had, in addition to some cute leather clothing (I bought a sexy top that would be completely the wrong style for my body in real life but was really hot on me in the dream), DVDs of recent television shows that I'd missed because of not setting the VCR in my tent correctly (it needed to be set each day for some reason; I couldn't program day ahead of time -- and there was no sign of electricity in my dream other than my having a VCR and a DVD player in my tent and managing to keep my PDA charged). I don't remember how/whether that dream ended, except that at some point I was showing the merchant how my PDA worked and she seemed impressed by how useful such a device would be to her despite my having a lot of things go wrong (including the buttons being in the wrong place and forgetting which did what).

It's taken long enough to write this that my stomach feels normal again, though my back still hurts rather a lot. I wonder whether I can get back to sleep now. An hour of sleep just isn't enough.

dglenn: Spaceship superimposed on a whirling vortex (departure)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 10:39am on 2006-10-03 under ,
dream )

And here's where I finally get to the one thing that, on waking, seemed to make this dream worth bothering to describe and share: I tried to edit the file right there on the chalkboard by writing vi commands on the board. First just dragging a fingertip through the dust on its surface, then picking up a piece of chalk to do it right. My supervisor questioned this, and I reassured him that it should work, and it nearly did. The only problem with this in the dream was that there was no termcap entry for the chalkboard, so I had to use vi in "open mode" (that is, as though the blackboard were a printing terminal instead of a screen -- open mode is where vi behaves like ex, a text editor that doesn't rely on being able to move the cursor around on the screen), and I'm not good at that, so I eventually gave up and went to the battered (and glitchy) Sun in the corner to finish editing the file.

a little more of the dream )


And if any of you Emacs-using heretics have had dreams in which your editor worked just fine on a slate blackboard, I don't want to hear about it, okay? I'll go brush up on my 'ex' commands just in case the dream meant something.

dglenn: Spaceship superimposed on a whirling vortex (departure)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 02:27pm on 2006-09-24 under ,

Bad dream! Baaad dream! No ... uh ... dream-biscuit!

dglenn: Spaceship superimposed on a whirling vortex (departure)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 08:16am on 2006-09-08 under

Uh ... I may be too analytical for my own good. About an hour ago, I had the following conversation:

"According to the documentation, we should be able to install and test this as of fifteen minutes ago. I really want to see whether it works. Why are we waiting? Let me install it."

"Fine, if you can do it without my help and without waking me, go ahead; me, I really need the sleep so I'm not doing squat until the alarm goes off. And since, despite being very thoroughly and convincingly modelled on [$name], I know that this instance of you is a figment of my imagination -- since this is a dream -- I doubt you can install it without waking me up. Waiting an hour won't kill you."

Of course, once awake and out of the dream, I have no idea whether the thing we were trying to do worked (actually it's starting to fade so now I don't even remember what the device was, except that it was made of wood and fit into something motorized), so my "I'm so clever" logic in that conversation did have a fatal flaw.

But I really did want that last bit of sleep.

Huh. Had two other shorter, less memorable dreams, woke up, posted this, then got around to looking at a clock and realizing that it's now the time I had thought it was toward the end of that first dream. Yep, nothing like breakfast surreal to start the day...

Mood:: surreal
dglenn: Spaceship superimposed on a whirling vortex (departure)

A Thing That Sucks, number (n+1) out of (m):

When you're a third of the way into a murder mystery novel that you started reading because you couldn't sleep, at the point where you're getting some idea how the subplots all hang together and are really interested in the next clue, and you shift your position in the bed because your shoulder is getting stiff, and the act of moving wakes you up so you discover that you'd actually been asleep after all, dreaming that you were lying awake reading, and the book you were in the middle of doesn't even $%^@ing exist, and even though it was your own @!$! brain that was making up the story as the dream went along you still have no idea how to get back to it to find out what happened next.

That's one of the things that sucks.

And the fact that it always seems to happen right at in the middle of some suspenseful action by one of the characters that you really want to find out the results of, a) makes it just that little bit more annoying, and b) yes, yes, does in fact mean that this particular (meta-virtual-somno) eit has happened to me more than twice (the most recent being a few minutes ago).

After so much trouble falling asleep, couldn't I have at least dreamt of, say, being asleep? Or at least dream a real book that I can go read in real life later to find out how it ends, or maybe even just have my dreaming unconscious leave the Cliff's Notes for the imaginary novel in some corner of my brain where my waking self can look at them later? Or maybe, just maybe, as a consolation prize, leave enough details lingering to be able to start over from scratch and write the %*^$ing story after waking up?

It's just not fair! [stomp]

dglenn: Spaceship superimposed on a whirling vortex (departure)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 09:13am on 2006-06-02 under

For the last three mornings, one of the dreams that has woken me each morning involved hearing Big Ben.

I don't even know what Big Ben sounds like in real life; if I've ever heard it firsthand, it was as a toddler too young to remember. (I may have heard it in the background of a television show, but if so it didn't manage to stick in my conscious memory.) And at least two of the dreams didn't even take place in London -- the mismatch of detail from "knowing" that the bell I was hearing was in the wrong city for the rest of the dream was what woke me. (One dream may or may not have taken place there; I don't remember enough of it before the waking moment to say one way or the other.)

dglenn: Spaceship superimposed on a whirling vortex (departure)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 10:38am on 2006-04-22 under

Just woke up feeling tired and drained from a really intense dreamm.

Dream of last minute job interview the day before Pennsic, and a shiny red shirt )
dglenn: Spaceship superimposed on a whirling vortex (departure)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 10:34am on 2006-04-06 under

Breathing much better (not great, but I think I can talk now); still having trouble with dizziness and nausea.

This morning I dreamt that I moved to New Hampshire. Suddenly. Read more... )

Somewhere in there was a dream about writing up the other dreams for my LiveJournal, and finding a started-but-never-posted entry in the file I usually compose entries in (that file actually contained my last non-QotD entry in real life when I woke up for real and started writing this entry).

Then came a dream about band practice and filk entered the picture )

I think that was the last dream.

All in all, I woke up eight or nine times (not counting the times I dreamt I woke), managing to see what time it was before falling back asleep a couple of times. And in none of the dreams did I figure out why I had moved to New Hampshire so suddenly.

Mood:: surreal
dglenn: Lego-ish figure in blue dress, with beard and breasts, holding sword and electric guitar (lego-blue)
posted by [personal profile] dglenn at 12:04am on 2006-02-24 under ,

I slept through CSI and the Monty Python special (not to worry -- VCR caught 'em), and had odd dreams ... dreams of befriending a family of small (about a meter tall) space-aliens trying very hard to figure out how to blend in here based on television shows, and introducing my girlfriend to my parents on the day one of my brothers was supposed to be on a live television broadcast. Things went wrong in odd dreamways, including my oversleeping, confusion over the schedule, difficulty tuning the television (in dream lack-of-consistency, I had both antenna issues and problems figuring out which cable channel number matched the station), the aliens worrying about screwing up and blowing their cover, etc. Then the house caught fire ... except that instead of being my mother's house, it was my house -- just larger and with a whole lot of people in it, but same basic floor plan and my stuff was in it; oh, and either freestanding or an end unit, rather than flanked by two other row houses as mine is in real life. Everyone else got out and I stayed behind to help the space aliens.

At some point, an alien catlike creature entered the story. So I was trying to gather up any exposed film not in the freezer and trying to decide whether it'd be safest in the freezer or carried out of the house with me, trying to decide which guitars to save, and trying to buy the aliens time to get out unnoticed. That's when a fireman started tapping on the door-to-nowhere at the bottom of the back stair. I yelled through the glass, "Won't open! Painted shut!", and he motioned me to back away. Then he and two others kicked the door in (their being able to do so from atop a ladder didn't seem odd until I woke up and started writing this down). Either Perrine or the alien pet scurried down the stairs and around the corner (somehow we were suddenly atop the stairs), and the first fireman asked, "What was that?"

"A cat," I replied.

"With eight legs?" the fireman asked.

"She just looks like that when she runs. She has an unusual running gait."

So I was trying to catch her, in a house filling with smoke, while a fireman urged me to leave, when I woke up.

And, awake, smelled smoke. The sirens came a few moments later. I went to the third floor to see where the fire was, and the fire trucks pulled up in front of my house. The view out the back was very similar to the end of my dream, with thick smoke obscuring view of anything but the swirsling shapes of the smoke. I ain't opening that window for a better look.

The house two doors uphill from me is burning. Mostly, it appears, in the back. I watched a firefighter chop a hole in the roof with a chain saw.

I poked my head out the front door to ask whether I needed to stuff Perrine in her carrier and flee; if I'm interpreting the firefighter's hand gestures right (they were all a bit busy to come over and talk to me, and got really irritated when someone else entered their wok area on the sidewalk), I'm to stay put and just be out of their way. (I wasn't certain at first which house was burning. If it'd been the vacant one I share a wall with ...)

The one that's burning was inhabited. I thought I heard a firefighter yelling to another that everyone was out; I'm not certain. I hope so. (This is the house that's used for some sort of drug-rehab program. Mostly good neighbours, but they change on a regular basis -- though I could do without the Really Loud music a staff member plays sometimes when they're between groups of patients/residents -- so there's a fresh round of "get used to the neighbour who dresses oddly" every few months. I hope that means fewer personal belongings to lose. I'm not sure whether a group was living there right now, or just the one staff member.) No more sirens, so I presume it's under control with just the equipmemt the first alarm sent out.

A chance to photograph fire equipment from a different angle -- though as I said, I'm not leaning out the back window. My house already smells like some sort of resinous incense, and the sharper, nastier smells are starting to creep in behind that. More than enough will get into this leaky house without my opening a window for it.

So. I'm awake now.

[Added at 00:35] The fire seems to be out. Firefighters are now hurling chunks of debris out a second-floor window into the back yard and hosing them down there.

Inside my house there is a light grey haze, mostly noticeable only when looking at a lamp from a distance.

dglenn: Spaceship superimposed on a whirling vortex (departure)

This morning's dream didn't exactly have me feeling rested when I woke.

long description of a stressful dream )

Interestingly, all but the first tornado looked grainy, and the sky was a different brightness near each, as though each were spliced in from a different really old newsreel.

When I woke, I felt a very strong need to go look and make sure that my car was still in front of my house, and had not actually gotten towed yesterday.



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