Wednesday, July 6, 2011

April blizzards bring May wizards

A topical title.

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M, S and I were wandering around a rainy town, which appeared to be a suburb of Toronto, but in a very wealthy neighbourhood. It soon began to storm, with thunder and lightning crashing down around all of us. This storm was caused by a group of angry wizards in the atmosphere, who patrolled the city from above.

We decided that we needed to take cover somewhere, and we deduced that the best place to go about this would be in one of the expansive houses on the street we were on. We walked down the street until we found a house that looked relatively uninhabited and proceeded to cunningly break into it. We had to keep quiet, but unfortunately I didn't make the smartest footwear decision that morning, and kept pacing around the hardwood floored living room repeating the phrase "oh god they're going to find us" whilst M and S chastised me for being an idiot.

The wizards were sending down glowing blue detection orbs (opalescent baseball-sized spheres that float through the air, periodically sending out waves of light to try and detect movement) into all of the houses in Toronto to try and find any people who were moving around during their inspections. Luckily, they didn't catch me as we all cowered in fear. We needed a way to get home.

M said she would bus, but I was dismayed because she lived in the opposite direction as me, and I didn't want to go home alone. S also said he was taking the bus home, so I asked him if I could bus with him. He said yes, and M decided to go with us after all, even though she doesn't live that way.

I was glad about this, because it registered that there is safety in numbers, even when there are angry wizards in the sky. The TTC bus number 1022 pulled up, but we were unable to take it because it isn't going to where we want to go. S decided to get on the 53, so I follow suit, before realizing that I didn't have a ticket and subsequently began to cry. He handed me the transfer he had just used, and the bus driver felt bad for me and let me use it to go home.

Monday, July 4, 2011

Vaughan Mills

Short and sweet. Kind of.

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I was waiting at a bus at the terminal with two co-workers of mine, and I believe we were going to go see a movie in the theater there. One of the co-workers was angry because he was waiting for someone named Kim, but she didn't have a phone and was nowhere to be seen. An old woman pulled up in a car next to the bus terminal, and we were all hopeful, but she wasn't Kim.

We all spotted the Christmas bus (a big blue bus garishly decorated with snowmen and pine trees and "HAPPY HOLIDAYS" scrawled across the side) and got on it, even though it was going in the wrong direction. We ended up at Vaughan Mills mall, where I went to my new job, and also managed to ransack a store by shopping too hard (there were pants all over the floor by the time I was done).

I then got lost in the mall while trying to leave, which is irresponsible of someone who works there, where I ran into a friend of mine and informed her that Vaughan Mills was building a life-size chocolate replica of Disney World (which was actually the mountain from Canada's Wonderland), and then again tried valiantly to leave the mall via a very crowded, very Asian Swiss Chalet. There was a picture of rice on the door, and eventually I had stepped on enough people that I was able to exit the restaurant and find the bus terminal.

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Religion confusion

I..I don't even know.

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For whatever reason, my friends and I decided to go and watch the Islamic Olympics, so we did. One friend drove us to where it was being held, and we watched the games; they were not actually all that exciting, so we left, and we drove another friend and her 13 year old brother home as well (they had also decided to come see the games, and we just so happened to bump into them there).

There were Stars of David everywhere as we drove through whatever town we were in (there were a lot of decrepit buildings in it, and the roads were cracking cobblestones), and the conversation in the car frequently centered on a girl from school whom we collectively didn't like.

Eventually I got home, and decided to start running laps around my backyard, which had increased dramatically in size, and also acquired a small pond, which was unfortunately making everything muddy. Outside my kitchen window grew an apple tree that grows Christmas tree ornaments that look like real apples covered in ice. I ran laps for a good 20 minutes before an old friend from grade 3 joined me.

We raced together, despite the mud, and mom mother was yelling at me to stop because I was going to burn 200 calories. I was sweating from my eyes (although dream-me didn't register this as crying), and after a few more minutes my friend gave up, but I kept going,

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Band kids

Okay. This one is probably one of the longest, most detailed dreams I've had, so strap in for some solid confusion.

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In an unnamed community center/park complex, I had acquired a new bedroom. It was essentially the same as my bedroom now, with a colour scheme of bright blues and yellows, but I no longer had a desk, and my room had been filled with bookshelves. All of the books on said bookshelves were colour-coded, which was very aesthetically pleasing, so I wasn't peeved.

My cousin was over at my house, trying to convince me to dress fancy that day, and little did I know that this would prove very helpful later on. I fished through a drawer of ostentatious purple bras, my favourite of which being the one literally made exclusively of rhinestones. I decided on a plain one, but I couldn't find a shirt to go with it, which apparently didn't faze me, and I left anyway (at some point later in the dream I acquired fancy clothes).

It turns out that the 3 bus had be re-routed to go right through my room; around my bed, around the bookshelves, and out again. However, the piles of clothes on my floor made it damn near impossible for the bus to pass, so I had to kick all of the clothes under the bed. The bus driver kept driving.

There was evidently something wrong with the structure of my bed, because the conductor of an orchestra comes into my room, fixes the bed, and informs me that musicians are generally really good at fixing things involving nuts, bolts, and screws. I figured that this is because we frequently fix music stands when they're flimsy. This was logical enough, so I accepted his statement and tried to carry on with life in my room, relishing in the fact that it would now be extremely easy for me to take the bus to school.

Suddenly all of the grade 9 band, dressed in full band regalia, files into my room with all of their instruments fully assembled. I didn't even know where they got 30 chairs, but I assumed they had gotten them from the downstairs portion of the complex where I lived. I suddenly really had to pee, so I ran away from them. Another member of senior band came with me, and together we quested to find the bathroom, but all this resulted in was us finding some sketchy little hotel room within the complex, which was incredibly creepy and also had no bathroom. She eventually went back to find the band, and I met up with a friend of mine, R, to continue my complex-wide search for a bathroom.

We wander through the community center until we come the pool. Now, this pool is not like most community center pools; it is a complex series of pool-roads, and the only way you can get places within the community center is to swim or wade there, and some of the waterways are more viscous than others. Naturally in an attempt to do something probably really mundane, I hurt my leg.

Technically we hadn't paid to swim, so we shouldn't have been there, but luckily no one noticed, despite everyone being in bathing suits and we were in street clothes. We finally got out of the pool and found a washroom that had no door, as well as two toilets that weren't in stalls, and three toilets that were in stalls. In an uncommon display of exhibitionist attitude, I took one of the ones not in a stall. Suddenly, a woman walks in smiling, telling us that she didn't see our swim passes, and that Sick Kids and some other organization are involved, and that if the kids in the pool get sick, it's our faults. She then politely informs us that this bathroom has a door.

A friend from class walks by and tells us that the group picture for a project we had done has already been taken, and I freak out because I'm wearing jeans (however, I had donned a classy shirt, and somehow was now completely dry). I sprint like a true athlete across the field back to the complex where my room is, and passed a group of Russians who were all jumping on each other piggyback-style, and the guys were just greeting each other over and over again. They were hanging out with one Asian guy. At this point I'm run-limping because I had hurt myself before, and the Asian guy from the Russian group starts running with me and hitting on me. I try to kick him in the chest and run-limp a little but faster.

There are some blurry events, and I am with S waiting for the bus, when an old elementary school classmate shows up. I want to confront him about him thinking I stuffed my bra in grade 8 (which I did not, thank you very much), but I'm too concentrated on sending S a completely incoherent text message. The classmate leaves, and S and I board the bus.

I texted M, asking if she would hang out with me, but she told me she was going to be a "total LL girl" at a party that night. My first thought was "why didn't you invite me?", closely followed by "what the hell is an LL girl?", but I didn't bother asking.

I tried to build a paper tower by folding a lot of paper around itself, but it wasn't very sturdy, and it broke when I twisted the top of it.

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Sunday, July 3, 2011

Spongebob

I assume that this was my subconscious trying to get in touch with my inner child, but either way, I don't understand the entire premise of this dream.

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I was still myself, that being having a normal human body, but I had developed certain Spongebob Squarepants-esque features (namely yellow porous skin, a long yellow nose, as well as having donned his outfit).
I knew that I had a project due for my philosophy class, so I went into a different classroom to find that only five people had shown up that day. My English teacher told us that our challenge and change class was cancelled, so I decided to go home, completely unfazed by the melding of three courses that I had just witnessed.

When I got home from school being cancelled, because I only had one class per day apparently, I noticed that I had five jellyfish stuck to my head, and they were bobbing up and down as though dancing to some sort of music. It was in that moment that I remembered that I had signed up for a track and field tournament, which was the only way to get the jellyfish off of my head.

In true Spongebob fashion, Gary the Snail insisted that I go through with the tournament, despite my having signed up for high jump, which is my least favourite event. My event was taking place at a church that had conveniently relocated to the elementary school closest to my house, but unfortunately I had missed the last call for high jump, and a lot of people were mad at me for it.

I trudged back home, defeated without even having competed, only to find a committee of world leaders assembled at the side of my house. They were all deep in discussion, but I noticed an abundance of golf balls littering the ground around them, so I was forced to interrupt by pointing to each golf ball individually and counting them out loud obnoxiously. There were 71 golf balls grouped in a clump right where the leaders were standing, and I announced this to them. There were a lot more golf balls lying around on the ground, but I didn't have it in me to count them all.

At some point in the dream, I had stopped being Spongebob.

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Teal dress pants

This one's pretty long and deeply confusing. I have all of these dreams written down in a notebook, which is why they're being posted so quickly, not copious daily naps, unfortunately.

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Someone had decided to change the shape of my dog's ID tag from a dog bone to a lighthouse, and I was furious about this. I decided to go to the pet store by myself to get her a new one, however I must have misunderstood the bus routes, because the 2 had taken a weird route that day, and I wound up at a strip mall near the highway. I was dismayed to learn that I am subconsciously racist, when I got very anxious upon noticing that the only other people at the bus stop with me were rowdy minority men in their twenties.

I received a text, but my phone wouldn't allow me to check it, because all of its menu settings had been changed to things like "durr". I thought someone had hacked into my phone, although I wasn't exactly sure what that entailed, and I had 35 new messages that I wasn't able to check. One of the guys at the bus stop asked me if he could borrow my phone, but I got scared and said no.

He kept approaching me, so I ran to the bus stop on the other side of the mall's driveway. He still followed me, so I sent a frantic text to S, asking him if he wanted to go to the pet store with me. He responded with the only text I was able to check, which read "sure why not". By this point I was running, and I hid in the first space available; someone's junk removal bin.

I just so happened to find S in that junk removal bin, so I urgently explained to him how scared I was. Just then, the owner of the house the bin was in front of came out talking to her neighbour about reported theft in the area. I piped in, saying that I had been followed and chased by a man who wanted to steal my phone, and I had just managed to get away. The woman invited us into her home to calm down, and we accept, except in trying to get out of the bin, S got crushed, but he was fine.

As we walked up the long wooden walkway to get into this woman's house, we saw the same guys over in the next house, just ransacking it. Just as they saw us, the woman rushed us inside her house. She quickly led us through her house until we got to the room furthest away from the front. Up until this point, the weather had been grey and dreary, but now sunlight poured into the room while we hid behind a couch. The pathetic fallacy assured us that we were safe.

Soon the woman's family members came rushing into the room to make sure we were alright, and it turns out that this woman was my godmother. There were at least 6 relatives in the room (and I was visibly traumatized at this point), all with oddly-coloured patterned hair, the majority being black and teal dreadlocks. They had all brought gifts for us as well; I was given two rings that were big and encrusted with jewels the same colour scheme as everyone's hair, and I placed them on the table as one of the relatives sat down behind me and gave me a hug, then began to read to me from a book of French poems.

Eventually we left, but just went to my house, where I was anticipating going to some sort of party later, and a friend who had been waiting for me at my house showed me a group picture where a girl from school was flashing the camera. I cringed, and we left for a fancy hotel where the girl from the picture was placing rocks of salt with drugs in the center of them into plastic glasses of Jack Daniels. I politely declined, claiming that my cup had broken (not entirely a lie, the cup had a crack in it), and I diluted the salty drink with a lot of water.

There's a hazy transition, and then I am walking to the 2 stop with a bunch of people, one of whom I apologize to for being creepy, but it turns out to not be him anyway, and I still look creepy. I appear to have donned teal dress pants, so I go home and change. I return to the group at the bus stop.

Too many grapes

I can't exactly pinpoint the events that sparked this dream, and I'm not even going to try.

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A bunch of assorted friends and I are out for a quick meal at a small, seemingly sketchy restaurant which just so happens to have an open buffet and salad bar, which is delicious. There is a waitress standing next to me as I load my plate with pineapple. I assume she's some sort of salad bar bodyguard, which is the only rational way I can explain her actions.

I proceed to grab a bunch of grapes, and this waitress breaks into bloodcurdling screams about how I had taken too many grapes. Enraged, I scream back that I had only taken the bunch, and load the grapes onto my pineapple-laden plate. The waitress then whips out a fork-knife and a knife-fork*, which may look similar, but are, in fact, very different tools.

She then chases me around the restaurant, and to my dismay, no patrons even attempt to help. I manage to escape onto the roof of another building, which is covered in ice (because if I had gone out of the normal entrance, the waitress would have found me and killed me). There is a miniature Eiffel Tower on this roof, which I grab on to stop from falling, although on two occasions I nearly slip off the roof. I manage to get down off the roof safely.

The following day, I have hired bodyguards to ensure that I don't get killed. I am safely placed into a van, where I am told that the volunteer work I am doing is now sponsored by Zellers, whose name has recently been "modernized" to Z-dot. I am instructed to don the bright red Z-dot shirt as the van sits parked in the playground of an elementary school.
                                                 
                                                   *
                                                 
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Zombie goths

I was hoping to be able to start this off with at least a somewhat ridiculous dream, so here it goes, apologies for lack of being as ridiculous as I had hoped. This little bit of my subconscious happened right before the start of first semester grade 10 exams, back when I still had a "job", which might explain some things.

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Two of my best friends (M and S, for future reference) and I are walking through the University of Toronto campus, which is now situated in New York City, during the week before school starts in order to get our minds off of impending essays that we would inevitably have to do to pass school. Clearly the only feasible remedy to this would be to have a picnic, and we did this with vigor.

During into our panic, we run into a schoolmate of ours who is also stressing about this essay. We rise from the carefully laid-out picnic blanket and decide to go shopping. We tread merrily across the cobblestones adorning the streets of New York to get to a mall, where we go to the nearest Jacob store and begin filling up our cart. M picks up an obnoxious shirt covered wholly in chains and sequins, which we all protest to be absolutely garish, and she decides against buying it.

In order to leave the store, we must take the horizontal elevator, which we board and subsequently use to transport us to a lower level of the store, where we start walking toward a Starbucks. We then happen to meet up with other employees from a store which shall remain nameless, who are all dressed in full work attire. We all talk for a few minutes, and all of the workers except for one whom I had never seen before, leaves us for bigger and better things.

Because I am apparently more personable and have some semblance of social skills in my dreams, I lean over and give this stranger a hug, and he walks the remainder of the way to the Starbucks with his arm around me, all the while I am trying to fight him off (there go my social skills). I order a chocolate chip marble cookie once it is my turn at the cash, and the stranger attempts to give me a hug, but I beat his arms until he gives up.

From the Starbucks, we all descend into a basement parking lot that happens to be inhabited with zombie goths. The majority of these zombie goths have grey skin and greenish-teal mohawks, and I'm subsequently terrified; we leave and congregate on a patio above ground. There we see another one of our friends pushing a full shopping cart around, and desperately looking for a way to get home to Woodbridge. M offers to help this friend find her way home.

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