Abraham slept from 8:30 to 5:00 last night, so I actually managed to have a long, involved adventure dream of the likes I’ve not had in quite some time.

The earliest part I can remember is that a friend of mine needed me to sell her a car. I wasn’t actually a car salesman, although I had an office at a used car dealership. I was sort of a PI/answer-man, so the owner of the dealership let me have my space because it brought people to the place to come see me.

All of this takes place in a Children of Men/Half-Life sort of near future. Eventually I wind up under government investigation and they’ve captured some of my “business associates” so a game of cat and mouse ensues where I have to figure out how to free them without being caught myself. There is a mole among all of the people I’m around, which makes it doubly hard. We’re the good guys, of course, fighting against a corrupt government. The division between rich and poor is extremely polarized. The rich are indolent, basically spending all of their time schmoozing, buying expensive stuff from flashy places and slumming. There was an interesing dynamic between the shiny storefronts and their dark back alleys. Restaurants where people are served plates of precious gems in high-rise towers are steps away from guys playing Rube Goldberg-like relays races with kegs and cases of beer.

I’m weaving my way through all of this, keeping one step ahead of the pursuit, and also trying to track down my love interest, who is avoiding me for some reason. I eventually run into her in a dingy outskirt at sunset, we finally admit that we love each other and then I figure out she’s the mole, but too late. I try to escape back into the flashy places, but they’ve been arranged so that I can’t escape.

I wanted to dream to continue, but the baby cried.

Lately I’ve been having many dreams involving various forms of transportation and how they fail me. A frequent one has me in a tiny boat that keeps getting swamped from rough water, leaving me stranded in the middle of a lake; another has me trying to get my unwieldy bike down a steep and narrow staircase, with no railing or walls, a fall would mean certain injury.

I’m guessing these dreams are subconscious attempts to deal with my fears of maintaining a strong family and being a good father. It isn’t an easy task, and I’m not confident that I have a complete grasp on what it entails. Thus, the lack of control over my various forms of transportation.

The dreams could also reflect a similar stressor at work, with my current workload. I like being busy, but two designers and nearly 70 sites to maintain/convert is a pretty hairy recipe. Thankfully we’re getting the designer I replaced back in mid-May.

I suppose the dreams don’t need to have specific causes pinned to them; although it seems fairly clear to me that I’m feeling a distinct lack of control over my life; and for those who know me, they know I like to be in control.

A couple of nights ago I dreamed I was at a Guns ‘N Roses concert; they were playing Bon Jovi covers. In the dream, I kept trying to fall asleep, but kept myself awake because I didn’t want to miss the music. I ended up waking up fully because I tried so hard not to fall asleep, while I was already asleep. I’m assuming that I was trying to switch between sleep stages but not letting myself do so.

Last night I dreamed that some important guy had created a new, puzzling, adventurous world to explore; one of the puzzles was figuring out how to get into the world in the first place. I figured this out before anyone else; it was as simple as asking the man for the key. Once inside the world was Escher-like, labyrinthine and full of junk. You had to sort through all of the junk to find the useful items for the journey. I figured out fairly soon that although the world was so large, none of the paths you followed got you anywhere. I realized that this was also an inherent puzzle to the world. Upon figuring it out, I could leave and get a true adventure from the man. Having proved myself, I did so.

I’ve been playing both Portal and Half-Life 2 lately, so I think that gaming fired off that particular dream.

My new recurring nightmare places me in something like an Egyptian tomb, at least in terms of decoration and danger, and the low ceilings, dim light, and definite sense of tons of weight overhead. I’m part of a team exploring this place for its treasures and dangers. There are many rooms, each with its own particular trap and the doors to the room are of the secret passageway revolving sort. In the first room each team member becomes fascinated with one trivial aspect to the exclusion of all others. This is bad as the chances of survival for one person alone [me] are virtually nil. I try to rescue them but the door to each room closes after a certain time so I have to leave or be caught. I go to another room, intending to rescue the other folks eventually, where some sort of demon critter tries to overwhelm me, I escape from here as well. Now all the rooms are opening and releasing their critters who are after me. I run back to the original room where I’m cornered. I’m trying to keep all these dudes at bay and manage to creak open the original door and yell for my teammates. Right before I’m overwhelmed they show up to be slaughtered but allow me time to attempt escape. I don’t make it, but always wake up before getting sacked.

I’m pretty sure this is just the 2.0 version of my old nightmare [mentioned in passing here] which is pretty obviously about abandonment, trust and being frightened about independence and my ability to cope with things. I know when I have the dream that I’ve had it before, but instead of lucid dreaming my way out of it, I just try to beat my subconscious at its own game.

Weird dream last night. I’m in a spaceship with some random acquaintances who are my crewmates and we’re traveling through space and/or time for some reason. The trip removes or retards all of our primary sexual characteristics but no one seems to care about that or anything much, except me, even when some folks die under mysterious circumstances. Eventually someone figures out that we’ve lost all ambition and will to power as well as the naughty bits. I still have some, but this is explained because I am Chief Engineer, and therefore have more in the first place. We’ve still got intelligence, but nothing to drive it.

We land on this planet and start a collective farm that looks like my Aunt’s in Noblesville, only not surrounded by development. There are lots of strange critters and more crew die, but no one is interested in helping out, or even mourning really. Then it turns out that one of the crew has become obsessed with a local devouring monster with spider-like associations, and has been feeding other crew to it. This girl gets a cut on her finger trying to protect the evil thing when we burn the barn it is in, and an egg is secretly laid in the cut so another monster will be born and the crazy girl is sort of erotically and secretly pleased by this and doesn’t tell anyone. Somehow I just know it is going to hatch and devour her from the inside. I hate when my dreams set themselves up for obvious sequels. This one was especially weird due to the associations of gender identificaiton, sex drive, and ambition.

This dream had MacGyver in it. Also this humongous underground pyramid complex that we seemed to be both trying to escape from and trying to get into. We’ve escaped to aboveground, a very nice grassy area with a few trees ahead. There is no sky or even anything that could be called a horizon, just the grass, the trees and nothing. I think this happens in most of my dreams, but I’ve never remembered noticing it until now. We make it to the little copse and find that is overlooks a bluff into a cold rough sea. Jumping in would be a bad idea because we’d freeze, although we could probably make it to the other side easily enough. MacGyver just jumps in, but I climb over the side and realize that I can peel up the sod that I’m clinging to. I do so and find a ventilation shaft that I can crawl into and that I know leads to where I need to go.

I know there was more taking place in this dream before I pick it up here, but this is what I remember. I’m driving around town in a fuel-efficient sort of go-cart, except it has bigger wheels and I see a steamroller fall off of a bridge right in front of me. The guy jumps out of it like he’s in a video game and jumps again so he’s not crushed by the thing. His buddy is driving a huge dump truck and drives it over to see if he’s okay, thereby causing it to overturn as well. He also jumps to safety but they’re below the vehicles [which are on a giant pile of scrap metal] and the weight is slowly overbalancing things. Some girls run by to make sure they’re okay but also don’t seem to notice the impending doom hovering above them. I yell for them to get out of the way, and they walk away, but still in the path of the avalanche, so I run down and do a sort of baseball slide scooping them all up and out of the way just as the heap of metal comes down. Later I’m talking with the group of girls at one of their mother’s houses and they all leave the room except the girl and her mother. The girl is attached but tells me if I fax her my email she’ll give me her phone number.

I don’t write here because I think that my life and thoughts are important, but sometimes I wonder if I write here to make myself think that my life and thoughts are important. It is a small change. They are removing the ceiling tiles and doing electrical work in the office, the result is a significant amount of chemically-treated fiberboard dust and mild wheezing for me. I hate things that make me wheeze. Last night, for whatever strange reason, my apartment smelled like wet cigarette ashes. Few things smell worse. I saw a woman walking a beagle named Rosie and it tried to bite a man. My cousin is getting married in a month. I dreamed that I had a huge booger that I couldn’t pick. I ate pigs-in-a-blanket. I’ve been wearing the same pair of jeans for 5 days and they don’t smell yet. I need a hug. I need to buy new t-shirts, but they have to be the right kind and they are hard to find.

Only one thing that I wrote today strikes me as important. Can you guess what it is? That’s right, the booger dream.

The library is a natural resource. And I really enjoy that pun. I had a dream that I was in a library, and specifically in a computer room in a library with a bunch of ruckus friends. This computer room was from an Irish movie I saw years ago, and I remember a character watching Frank Patterson[?] sing at the papal visit to Ireland on the computer. Maybe that didn’t actually happen in the movie and I dreamed it, and remembered dreaming it in this dream. [Update: When Brendan Met Trudy, thanks TS!] So this room was not real to me, but real to my experience. In any case we were being loud and an old mean librarian came in and started copying our identification in order to report us to the Department of Homeland Security. I grabbed what she was copying of me and discovered it was a copy of my social security card. I refused to give it back to her, saying I didn’t want her to have my social security number, and she said she’d have me arrested and no one would ever hear from me again. I think I called her a dinosaur and said I hoped she got replaced by an upgraded librarian with piercings and tatts. Then I woke up because my pillow had fallen off the bed. I managed to grab it before it landed on the floor, although I felt very strange because my mind was still mostly asleep and my body was wide awake thrumming.

So I recently finished rereading The Rediscovery of Man by Cordwainer Smith which has this big government thing in it called The Instrumentality of Mankind. So I’m dreaming that I’m interacting with one of the main dudes in the Instrumentality and we’re trying to figure out what to do with these people who are selling the opportunity to be John Malkovich. I think I was sort of John Cusack’s character but not really, although Cameron Diaz and Catherine Keener were trying to kill me. I started hanging from a garage door and saying “I am the voice of the audience” since I knew I was in the movie but not of it. Cameron Diaz attacks me with her really sharp fingernails and I run through a heavy metal door that is sort of a safe door but only opens to a high school hallway. Now we’re in You Can’t Do That on Televisionland and every time that safe door opens a voice gives us a charade that we have to take part in. Someone named “DJ Stein” is controlling us. Then I woke up.

I’ve been lucid dreaming poetry lately. This is unfortunate because when I try to wake up and hold on to the fully formed poem long enough to get it penned, it inevitably disappears. I had a really great one last night [at least, in my dream state it felt great, dream-consciousness is no judge of quality] and by the time I awoke I could only remember the word Guinness. The pen and paper is less than two feet from me, but the distance from sleep to waking is always just too long to remember.

I had a new weird dream last night. It took place in this pseudo-neo-gotham-trenchtown hybrid city; always night. and I was trying to catch up with this girl because she had some sort of information that was crucial for some sort of reason. Its one of those, “the person you are looking for is always flitting around the corner off in the distance” dreams for a while, then as I’m crawling over the glass roof of a greenhouse/warehouse, I slip in through a louvered window, clamber down some scaffolding, go outside, wake up the bum on a bench who happens to be the girl I was chasing. Then it turns out she is a traitor and I’m grabbed by some people who are trying to use me for some reason and keep attempting to drug me using a suppository except I’m too tight-assed for it to work. [WTF? I mean, I have weird dreams all the time but this one was fucked up even for me.] Whenever they take their attention away from me I escape. I end up underground in this horrible bombed-out third-world cesspool of strange diseases where people are killing each other just because they are vicious. I finally make my way to the surface, am extremely relieved to do so, and changed in some way. I’m trying to get my bearings and this street vendor comes up to me and we both say at the same time “The worst thing in the world is men killing men.” as if we’d both been through the same experience and were marked to each other in some way. The dream was going to continue where I was going to try to catch that girl again and find out why I was betrayed but I woke up and went to the pisser instead.

Man. I had the weirdest fricking dream I’ve had in recent memory last night. All last night. One continous dream broken by my typical 3am rising for something to drink. Yeesh.
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So I’m in this room-slash-hall with some friends and a few satellite personages who are really nothing more than technically proficient warm bodies. They are technically proficient at whatever I need them to be techinically proficient at. My friends are around because what we are doing in this room-slash-hall is going through it to reach the other end. We are doing this because it will either save our souls, raise us to a new plane of human consciousness or just because we have to.
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I had a dream last night about all the people I was merely acquainted with in high school or the friends I’ve not talked to since high school last night. It is pretty obvious what triggered this, I went through a bunch of my pictures yesterday and put a few up for me to look at. So I saw all of their mugs whilst milling through.
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I’ve had a dream a few times that has a poem in it. I’m in a pre-remodeled classroom in O’Shaughnessy Hall, a really tiny room with an upright piano and the teacher is sitting at the piano and the class is grouped around her and my poem is on the music stand of the piano.
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I was dreaming last night that I was falling from a certain height over and over and over and over and over and over again. Falling and landing, hard; a belly flop onto the ground. I felt a bit bruised, I must admit.
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I had a dream that I’ve not had in years, and it showed. Everything in the dream was old and derelict. There is this giant tree [now losing its leaves] and in the tree is a big net/hammock with a [now crustydusty] sheepskin in it. I know that a famous elf once slept very restfully here. There are sputtering B-52 bombers flying overhead and I can sort of see them passing through the leaves.
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Last night, I dreamed that I was watching election coverage and couldn’t get a straight answer from any station regarding specific numbers of electoral votes. Then I saw an interview where the moniker bar at the bottom of the screen said George W. Bush, President-Elect. I sort of noticed it in passing as it were, within the dream. It got me wondering, duh.
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I’ve had plenty of weird-ass dreams lately and I figure posterity will determine my contribution to the world through the examination of this blog, perhaps an account of my dreams will provide insights to that which is Adam.
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Willem Dafoe was the devil and had made a movie in the tradition of The True Story of the 3 Little Pigs. For some reason, my subconscious chooses Willem Dafoe to be the face of evil when I dream.
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I had a dream about Tom Waits except he wasn’t really Tom Waits as these things go.
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After puberty but before I had seen a naked girl naked in the flesh after puberty and also whilst still a virgin, my mind nonetheless attempted to dream about sex. This failed miserably.
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I had many dreams last night but the one I am going to tell you about involves me going off to war. I was living on a planet that might as well have been Earth but wasn’t. I say that it might as well have been Earth because if you had been born into that world it would have been Earth to you. I say it wasn’t Earth because I had to go to war in some inhospitable [I had to wear a breathing apparatus] region of the planet and fight imposing insectobeasts. I never actually saw any of this, but I knew it from television in the dream. I never actually watched television in the dream but I still had this information from television as a sort of dream backstory. I find this interesting; a dream past, dream memories, strange. The war had been going on for a very long time.

I was in front of my mother’s old workplace with a group of other recruits and we were all saying goodbye. The only person there with me was my grandfather. We were talking about fishing, not fighting. When the call came for us to get on our transport [accompanied by a deafening roar as it started up] I suddenly felt panicked about what I was getting into and I hadn’t said goodbye. I turned and looked at my grandfather but didn’t say anything. Neither did he. We wouldn’t have been able to hear each other in any case. He just looked at me, a scared young punk kid, and that was enough to calm me and give me a sense of resolve.

The look that my grandfather gave me is what I find most interesting in this dream. That, and why it affected me so much. It was one of the most powerful dream moments I’ve ever had. I’m sure much of the power comes from my close kinship and friendship with my grandpa. Whenever we went fishing together was a great time. I’m sure part of it has to do with my engagement in the civics of Robert Heinlein’s Starship Troopers, which helped me finally understand what most likely motivated my grandfather to fight in World War II. Which is probably why the look was so powerful. My grandfather understood what it meant to go to a far off place and fight to not die. Even though he was old when he saw me off, he probably saw his face overlaid on his young punk grandson. There probably wasn’t anything to say in that situation. Conveying complete understanding through that one look was probably the best thing my dream could have done.

so i remembered another dream i had last night. its pretty straightforward.

i go visit this little old lady with cookies who prophesizecies to me about what happens later on in my dream [sounds like the matrix]. i never remember dream dialogue so forget about what she said. it was basically something along the lines of i was in danger from some group who was after what i had in my head, some sort of important knowledge. [i'm thinking it was like something like what is in the head of the dude in the movie pi]. so then i leave and my dream cuts to me waking up after i’ve been captured. i’m wearing red-edged underoos™ [minus the undershirt and by the way, the old woman predicted this] and i’m in some sort of psychiatric cell. i know that somehow i’ve given my knowledge away and that i have to get some place rather quickly before something bad happens. so i bust out, beat up an orderly and take his shirt which says ‘feminist chicks dig me’ [i actually own this shirt and the old lady predicted that too] and tuck it into my underoos and then hop on a subway/el which takes me to wherever i needed to go to stop the bad guys and then i get killed [the parallax view].

no i didn’t wake up after being killed, i just went on to dreaming about something else.

i’m not updating much because this week is crazy busy for me. i saw a preview for I, Robot last night which pissed me off to no end because it is so far removed from what Isaac Asimov wrote that it is nothing more than a Matrix-like spinoff with Will Smith and a classic title.

UPDATE: here is the account of the dream i had last night. its verbatim from an email.

well i was a guest/prisoner in an invented dream friend’s father’s house. his father was willem dafoe and he was animalistically cruel and maybe a bit cultish. his wife was evil too but i can’t recall which celebrity she was. so i was in the back yard and my vision was pretty heavily obscured by foliage. suddenly i see s dismembered bobcat head being dragged across the ground. its not really gruesome despite flagella shaped viscera/medusa like hair splayed all around it. so i turn around and there is this python eating the head and then a notice that there are maybe 4 other snakes around me. all of them are vaguely dangerous to humans snakes. willem dafoe is there saying something appropriately menacing in that ‘you are under my power’ tone. his wife joins him and they make out for a couple of seconds. then i decide i’ve got to escape so i pretend like i’m getting along with them while i plan to leave. when i sneak out to my car [suddenly willem dafoe is MY father except i'm still the same person in the garden and all that] he appears and sorta knows what i’m doing. i think he is going to kill me. i say something that apparently distracts him even though i’m the one who doesn’t know wtf is going on. so i want to get in my car but the driveway has my grandpa’s fishing boat in it and a bunch of other cars. so i have to go beat up the valet, and suddenly i am the valet and i move a couple of cars and get into mine and drive into the boat. willem dafoe is going to get me soon. then i back out of the driveway and leave.

the dream was quite strange because one moment i would have the ‘i’m in danger’ feeling and the next moment i would feel like everything was normal.

The night before last was nearly sleepless for me. Typically I have almost complete control over what I dream about, even unto nightmares. Yet Monday night, I had quite uncomfortable dreams, and I am not certain why they were so uncomfortable. Every dream I had, and when ever and where ever it took place, my best friend friend from high school and the first person I ever fell for, J, appeared. She wasn’t as I remember her from HS, she was 4 years older, prettier and even more quixotic. Like some sort of archetypal figure. The dreams were all standard fair, nothing tawdry, but invariably J would turn up, act in a completely normal way, and freak me out every time. I would always wake myself up immediately after she asked a perfectly innocuous question.

At the Fair - Have you ridden the Ferris Wheel?
At my home - How have you been?
On the street - Do I have something on the back of my coat?
etc. ad infinitum

I’m not sure what this night of cracked dreaming means. It could mean that I still have unresolved feelings toward J. She could be nothing more than the best symbol my mind could come up with to represent whatever it is that I am anxious about at this time. It could mean something else entirely. I just don’t know. First I need to figure out what is percolating in the recesses of my mind. Then I’ll have a better idea I think. If you have any questions or need clarifications ask, because I am sure they will help me figure some of this out.

I had this dream the other night, where I was in this goth club just minding my own business listening to some kickass darkwave, when some dude started something.
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if you ever find yourself in one of my dreams always remember this. anyone drinking tea has been or is about to lie to you. that includes you and me. if you are drinking tea, you have been lying to yourself about something. when i drink tea in my dreams it is always Earl Grey. and if people are drinking in my dreams, it is almost always tea. no one ever drinks coffee, because i don’t like coffee. sometimes someone will be drinking wine, but the wine tastes like a cran/grape combo even though it retains its alcoholic effects. these winedrinkers don’t lie any more than regular folks. Tea drinkers always lie. these tea drinkers sometimes use honey in their tea. when this happens they are about to tell an especially good lie. so beware. never go to Britain in one of my dreams.

another wildass dream last night. i was the rebellious son of a fictional President. Then the aliens invaded and all hell broke loose. as i fled with my father the president (he was more like a retired commando than a commander in chief) we went to this secret underground/water base in St. Joseph’s lake. what was left of the government formed a resistance against the invaders. and I became a badass chopper pilot and special ops leader. the world post-invasion was a curious mix of normalcy and the surreal. much of the world stayed as it had been but often within one step and another a person could go from this into huge piles of noxious ashes. picture chocolate swirl ice-cream with the swirl parts being the destroyed parts of the earth. this has been done by both humans attempting to destroy the aliens (using nukes to no effect) and the aliens themselves. anyway, i’m on this special ops mission to inifiltrate a human organization that has made a deal with the aliens, when my partner - this hotass special ops girl- and the person we had been interrogating - an old hermit woman - were captured by a combined band of aliens and rebels. i had barely escaped their notice and hid myself in a enormous pile of ash. then i left my character and started what i assume was intended to be cross-cutting as i (now the spectator) watched the aftermath of my partner’s torture, a curious blend of mindwracking and body-racking. all through this i recognized that the aliens were very similar to The Covenant from Halo and that i kept wondering if anyone in this place had seen Independence Day and why didn’t we just send a virus to the ships and then kick their asses. that’s all i remember.

Last night I had a completely awful dream. We were about to start a war. I was walking down the hallway and the guys were in the lounge watching The Toob . On it was one Showdown: Iraq now reporting on the immanent eminent imminent initial US strikes. I was only ten when the 1st Gulf War began, and I watched it begin in night-vision on CNN. Tracers, flares and fuzzy-voiced commentators. What I saw on The Toob was quite similar to this, except in better digital/satellite quality. Apparently we hadn’t started bombing yet, and all of the anti-aircraft fire was just for show to scare our pilots away. We were waiting for 10 or 15 more of something before we began to attack. i figured we’d already began it and the media were just trying to see how much they could convince us of.

that’s all i remember. what makes this awful is that the war which no one wants looks like it could still happen, and that all the months of talk about it has resulted in nightmares for me. I don’t blame Saddam Hussein for this fear. I blame Dubya, and the media for fearmongering and scaring scaring scarring the American public about what Iraq could do, someday. As a person who has never experienced the true effects of war, I feel uncomfortable saying this next thing, but will say it anyway. For me, living permanently on the edge of war is a much more subtle terrorism than living in the midst of war itself.

i had one of those dreams last night where nothing and no one exists unless your dream persona thinks about it. I call these dreams when I have them Causal Deity Phantasies. Actually i just made that up now but it still works. i’m basically a causality god in these dreams and my dreamconcious decisions become dreamtangible.

so my dream: i was at my house, a dreamconstruction of the house i live in. except it is not a house i’ve ever seen before. its really long and narrow and made of stucco. the only windows are really high up and there is a low run of bushes around it. my driveway is split longways into half drive and half inground swimming dreampool. and i’m swimming naked in this pool. then i realize that the i’m skinny dipping in plain view of all of my neighbors. or would be if there were anyone around. it is dead silent apart from my own watery chops and plashes. the world is also full of that even mild yellow dreamlight.

the houses across the street don’t matter. i’ve one to either side of mine own and one to the back. facing my split drive/pool to the right is a 2-story Typical 1950 Family Dwelling™ in it lives this man. behind me in a chain-linked fenced in yard is a ranch style house. lives here. to the left is a weed-filled yard and a duplex. lives in the side closest to me. the other half of the duplex doesn’t matter.

i walk to the backyard, fully clothed as suddenly as only dreammeandering can do. a mid-sized dog barks itself wild trying to scare me. a pinkyblue ball bounces across my yard. there is wind.

the dream ends. interpret please.

well, i have a new recurring dream. i’m glad too because it is a damn interesting one. my recurring dreams are always action/adventure stories. this one is a bit different in that it has a science-fiction twist. of course, i don’t remember all of the details but i’ll give out the chunks that i do remember. there are these ubermensch aliens with, of course, superior technology such as these sleek single person rocketships that are invisible when wet (which explains why they park the damn things in the swimming pool). They also have this mind power that is not quite telepathy but instead conveys emotion in such a specific way that it might as well be speech but functions better than speech. When they do it your head/vision is filled with this blue/white lava stuff that is really cool to watch. there is an unofficial group of friends (the only aliens in my dream are from this group) who are interested parties in the salvation of our species. we are stereotypically on the verge of destroying ourselves and we have also drawn the ire of the group of bad aliens (who I haven’t had the privilege of meeting yet). This is because of the vaguely psychohistorical prophecy that our species is going to do something either to or for the universe and this group doesn’t want it to happen for it will threaten their position (good enough reason to wipe out a race, eh?) Ostensibly, the friendly groups of aliens won’t tell me what the prophecy is in fear that it will negate its possibility. Also, for reasons unknown they have chosen me as their hero, except i’m not really me, instead i’m a heroic and infinitely determined version of myself. i’m also part alien myself but of course, i’m also ignorant to my own origins. i also have a regular human girlfriend who isn’t really a sidekick, more like we are the team the aliens need to foil the plot of the bad aliens. the reasons the aliens can’t do it themselves is due to the fact that the only ones possessing destructive tech are the bad guys.

thats all i can call to mind right now, next time i have it i’ll let you know anything new.

Dear Lord I had some strange dreams last night! Who the hell is Sasha Sprassus? Every dream I had I was searching for her and everyone seemed to know who she is. Is she hot? Does she want me? I never found her, but I sense the progression of my dreams was flowing backward because the last one I had Willow Osgood (from the movie Willow) was asking me what I had done with ‘Poor Sasha.’ He also used some cool word play something to the effect of ‘I might well not have power but well might be powerful.’ I dunno it sounded cooler in the dream. Then he turned into a demon and disintegrated as my alarm went off. I still have no clue who this girl Sasha Sprassus is. Maybe it isn’t even a girl. Guys in Russia are sometimes named Sasha. There is this girl in a few of my film classes who is extremely annoying. She thinks she is a euro and has a bigtime attitude. She only drinks mineral water because her “parents are European and it is so much better thatn regular water.” She’s not euro though and needs to realize that the teachers just MIGHT know more about film than she does, even though SHE went to the Juilliard School in Chicago for a summer…blah.