More crazy nightmares

Holy crap my head.

First Penn from Penn and Teller knocked on our door, came in, and started telling Nighthawk all these wild stories about getting a hamburger, and a couple other things I can’t remember. I couldn’t hear most of the conversation because I was concentrating on a cardboard box full of games (which was sitting right next to them on the couch) that I thought had a Playstation 3 game in it I wanted to show Penn. I pulled all kinds of gadgets and books and magazines out of that box but not the missing game, and just as he was leaving I remembered that all the playstation 3 games were in a box behind me.

As he left I asked him why he’d decided to visit us and he gave me a huge loving hug and said, “Because you’re you!”

I pulled out my phone to tweet about it, but as usual for my dreams I could barely read the phone, forget type. All the keys had been rearranged so the backspace key was above the letter R, there were three different kinds of cancel keys depending on what you were trying to do… It was a nightmare and I remember thinking that it was some of the worst usability I’d ever seen. I also remember thinking that this had to be a dream for the keyboard to be so bad, but my dream-self remembered that the new phone OS had just dropped and this must be the new version.

And then just when I thought I’d finally gotten the tweet written I tried to look up Penn’s Twitter handle and I couldn’t because a) I kept launching the picture-attacher accidentally and b) there were flowers growing out of my phone. Something akin to very small carnations, just big enough to block my view, were growing out of the phone. This was annoying, but somehow not unexpected.

Then I found out that Nighthawk had already tweeted about the experience for me, with pictures, which made me both happy and annoyed. He had also let Herbie and Basschica in the house. They were there to – ok I don’t know why they were there but they insisted on feeding the dogs, which Herbie had to learn how to do for some reason.

Once the dogs were fed (raw chicken is all we had, but it was in dog-sized portions) the conversation turned to what we wanted to eat. Magically my mom arrived and we all got in the car, following mom’s directions, and ended up at this old house (Victorian style) that used to sell crafts, but now sold seafood dinners, called “The crab tree” or something equally weird.

The restaurant had a large cement porch with a wooden roof, big enough to hold a couple of picnic tables and smaller bistro tables. We weren’t the only ones waiting for a table inside – there were other couples and families (all older than me but I think I was roughly 20 again) that were also waiting. After a short wait the restaurant staff gave up on seating us inside, and since it was a beautiful night they just started bringing out the food items of their choice, family style, and setting them on the table.

We had green beans in risotto, mashed cauliflower, mashed turnips, shrimp in a pasta, a different kind of shrimp with a spiny shell that was done in a garlic sauce, fried popcorn shrimp, and strange things. Strange things like live man-o-war babies (I could have my fish wrong. Round thing with a long tail, supposedly poisonous, had a shell covering one side. Maybe I invented it.) that were a bit scary to eat until my mother showed me how to pull them apart alive. (note: nothing like my mom to do such a thing.) Every table got different food so we spent a lot of time passing bowls back and forth and getting to know the folks we were sitting with.

Then things got weird again. I asked for something – or maybe they just recognized the name on our credit cards (Herbie and I were splitting the bill for father’s day) and we were ushered in this side door that looked like a closet, but had a door in the back, to see the rest of the building.

We discovered that this little house was just the tip of a much larger complex filled with science experiments being done regarding Jurassic, Cambrian, and pre-Cambrian era creatures. Even weirder, the were all kinds of robots and machines of a sentient nature in the complex, many of which appeared to be preparing for some kind of attack. It was like the TV show Sanctuary crossed with the comic Girl Genius crossed with a Discovery channel special on dinosaur-era sea creatures. Aunt G was showing us around and helping us get settled.

I knew somehow that my cousin Plantnerd was sleeping a few rooms away but I could see the shadow of someone sinister hovering over her bed wih a gun, so I sprinted through three or four doors in a hallway marked “no entry” until I reached her room. I found Plantnerd lying in bed half asleep with an IV in her arm and sugar around her lips. She’d had a sugar crash while on the tube (she lives in England) and the man at the foot of her bed had saved her and brought her back home.

Only it wasn’t really a sugar crash, it was a milk crash, because she required some kind of special sea cow milk, and the man wasn’t really a man… The best way to describe him would be take a leprechaun and cross him with a little grey alien, make him as tall as a short woman with normal eyes and a pasty face. He looked a bit like a sea creature himself.

We needed to go get something for Plantnerd but it was risky to get to and required crossing the loch in the back of the building. I didn’t even hesitate to do so, even though the only way to cross the loch was to jump from one tree root to another where they made a natural bridge down the center.

I don’t remember what I went to get. I do remember that the equipment rooms on the other side were full of robots hiding themselves so they’d be more effective if they needed to ambush the expected intruders. (I had been accepted by the system.) the was also a giant 6-tired amphibious vehicle that Aunt G showed me how to drive in case I needed it to escape.

When we returned to the loch, the water had risen and the roots were obscured. I knew that an amphibious creature that looked like a cross between the Loch Ness Monster and a rowboat lived in the water and was tame (and very smart). His name was Doodle (I think) and he very happily carried each of us across the pond. I remember being annoyed, though, because I expected to ride on his back and instead he’d only let me hold on to his neck.

Then I woke up.

The weird part of all this is how much of the loch felt familiar, like I’d seen and dreamed it before. I’ve been there before, to the loch, anyway, though the buildings and my family running things all felt new.

I slept for 11 hours last night. I’m still a little tired this morning, but it’s mostly because I’m dehydrated I think. The dream still feels like a real memory, and I’m a little afraid to go to sleep tonight for fear that I’ll land back in the same dream in time for the attack.

Now it’s time to start my day, and hope it’s less exciting.

Things I did this weekend:

Came home to a holy couch.

looked like a miniature cotton candy factory exploded.

Cleaned up the stuffing and tried duct taping the couch closed. (DISCLAIMER: I didn’t want to duct tape the couch. I think duct tape on living room furniture looks trashy. I was talked into it as a temporary fix and it did get us from Friday to Sunday, but dude, do not duct tape the couch.) Mopped the pee off the kitchen floor for the third time this week, cleaned up some other stuff, did some chore-like things.

Played me some Civilization IV most of the morning after getting up at 6ish with the terror twins.

Gave Chance a bath. He was less than thrilled and when all was said and done he voiced his opinion by peeing on the towel. Took Kaylee to get her lyme vaccine and discovered the back window of my car (which I previously learned no longer closes) now opens randomly when it feels like it.

Invited my brother and sister over for baseball, steak sandwiches, sushi, and Mario Party 8, then hung out with my husband for a little while and went to bed.

Got up relatively late with the terror twins, since Nighthawk got up with them for the 6:00 pee break. Cleaned up the kitchen, cleaned up the livingroom a little, helped with the laundry. Gave Kaylee a bath. She cried and cried and cried and I’m pretty sure the neighbors think I was killing her, but she was so dirty that the water actually ran brown for the first 30 seconds or so as the mud washed off her paws. She didn’t pee on the towels at the end, but that was about the only break I got on that front.

Then, some retail therapy. Bought a swiffer wet jet so I won’t have to drag the whole mop/bucket combination in the house every time Kaylee decides the pee pads don’t really apply to her. Bought some dog supplies for vet trips and the like as well.

Also bought a staple gun. Half inch staples hold the couch’s gaping wounds closed much more successfully than duct tape. Planning to have new livingroom furniture by the holidays. Maybe sooner if I have to keep sleeping on the couch in the morning because the dogs are up stupid-early.

Got a bean bag chair for $20 from K-Mart. It’s no Sumo but if the dogs shred it I’m only out $20. And considering that it’s relatively small, it’s still billions of times more comfortable than the floor.

More on my K-Mart trip coming later this week in Life is Odd comics if I get to it.

Mopped the floor with the wet jet and it’s much easier than doing the whole mop/bucket dance. Helped with laundry, did a KFC run for dinner, did the food shopping, came home, and bought a new camera, which ought to be here in a few days.

Now I’ve got a terror at my feet asleep and another terror in my lap who keeps resting her chin on the keyboard and typing (but “ttttt tttttttttttttttttttt” isn’t exactly riveting conversation so I’ve taken her opinion back out of this article at least three times now.) In a few seconds I’m taking them up to bed and then trying to get some sleep. Tomorrow is work, of course, so it’s back to the grind.

Welcome to 2006!

The thunderstorm earlier waffled around from thunderstorm to thundersnow and thunderslush, but somehow warmed up enough to keep the roads from being overly deadly, a turn of events I’m thankful for. We spent the evening at Mike and Steen’s with my sister and brother and Amber, where we played much Killer Bunnies (with all seven boosters!!) and laughed and had a great time.

The ride home was engulfed in a deep fog which would cause a less exhausted version of me would wax poetic. (The new year enshrouded in an almost comforting mystery appears too metaphoric to ignore; I can’t see what’s ahead, but at least I feel like I’m on the right road to get there.) The fog came from the ice that formed earlier, which had melted enough to give safe footing, and we were greeted at the door by a tiny dog with a cold nose who missed us very much.

I wish to you and yours the gifts of health and safety, peace, and prosperty. May we all walk into the fog knowing the way home.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and days of auld lang syne?
And days of auld lang syne, my dear, and days of auld lang syne
We’ll take a cup of kindness then, for auld lang syne.