Posts Tagged ‘dreams’

All shook up!

In The Daily Drool on March 16, 2010 at 12:11 pm

We got a little jolt to the emergency preparedness systems last night with a 4.4 shaker!  Strangely enough I woke up just before it happened.  Lying in bed wondering why I kept having bad dreams and why I couldn’t sleep, when I felt myself move out of accord with intent, and then the blinds rattled, and my sleep-fogged brain jumped to attention.

It was over almost as soon as I realized what was happening, but it sure got the adrenaline pumping… the adrenaline and the anxiety.  “Please, God, let me get out of here before any more earthquakes come a rumbling!”

I eventually fell back asleep to be tortured with dreams of some big “Upgrade” apartment in a high-rise where NO ONE who worked there was of any help at all.  I had copious conversations with Apartment staff about finding the elevators, or the stairs, or about turning in a lost flashlight I had found, only to find that not a single person in uniform had any interest in helping me.  I was full of vitriol for the lazy bastards, and kept wondering if it was too late to move back to the little beat up apartment I had recently vacated.

I seriously hope I don’t move back home only to find that no one there knows where the elevators are.

And while I’m the topic of being unsettled, let’s discuss the Spring Forward hangover that is currently haunting my inner clock- Wake up at 9:30 and look at clock with a grumble, if it’s time for me to get up, why do I still feel so damn tired?  Oh, I know, because it’s really (according to my body clock) 8:30.  Working at photos and emails and scripts till 2:00 in the a.m. with a disgusted “I was going to go to bed early tonight!” only to realize it’s only 1 a.m. for me…. then allowing myself to stay up a wee bit later because it’s “only” 1, really.

I’m telling you, weird and rough Tuesday.  Weird, and, rough!

Thank goodness LOST is on tonight and I have that happy little treat to look forward to.

Waking up Racing

In The Daily Drool on March 4, 2010 at 1:08 pm

I don’t know what happened last night.  I spent the day endeavoring towards a number of projects, reached the end of the day reliably under-done with any of them, and tucked myself in for a long, cozy sleep.

Instead I spent the night tossing and turning, suffering through bizarr-o dreams, one of which scared me so terribly that I awoke feeling like somoene had just shot me full of adrenaline.  I mean, in the dream I remember something seriously scaring the shit out of me, and physiologically in the dream my stomach dropped and my heart lurched- but then I woke up with my body pretty much screaming at me about it.  My heart was racing.  And I have no idea what the heck happened.

Then there was the drip, drip, DRIP happening outside my window- had it been raining steady this wouldn’t have been a problem, but the lone, abnormally heavy, drip, drip, drip happening somewhere outside infiltrated my sleep and had me dreaming about hammers, nails, and other weird posits of origin- all leading to my abrupt and confused waking up AGAIN, followed by serious a temper-tantrum thrown in the general direction of all that is evil.  Because then, of course, I couldn’t tune it out, this drip, drip, drip, in order to fall back asleep.


So, may tonight be less restless, because I feel like stew, I’m grumpy, and my head hurts… Tonight, may there be only happy dreams and steady zzzz’s.


The Miracle of Caffeine

In The Daily Drool on February 24, 2010 at 11:46 am

Sometimes I wake up and leave a piece of my brain behind.  It’s not until later that night when I tuck my little face back into the folds of my fluffy pillow that it’s returned to me… and then we go on adventures big and small and totally strange.

Like last night… last night I was concocting all manner of reasons to max out my credit cards with cash advances so I could travel and live it up… I woke up with a shiver of “Bankruptcy!”  But somewhere, a little piece of my mind decided to stay with that fantasy instead of facing the cold hard reality of TODAY.

So I made myself a nice hot, sugary cup of tea… and wouldn’t you know it my mind woke up for that.

And now I feel like I can maybe make it through the day with some gumption rather than the pathetic drone-like stumbling to-and-fro I (barely) managed yesterday.

Today I feel AWAKE!

Because of the tea.

So…. drink up  🙂

Daredevil as Hamster?

In The Daily Drool on February 18, 2010 at 12:42 pm

I had weird dreams last night.  Yes, I know, big surprise.

I was running around trying to get people organized, like a sheep dog.  And clutched lovingly in my hand as I was running around, trying to keep kids away from the pool, was a little hamster called Daredevil.


I know.

That’s weird.

Because my adorable little snuggle bug of a cat is named Daredevil, and he’s anything but Hamster sized.

And in this dream of mine he was all over fluffy with orange fur and kept squirming out of my hand and into mischief, so that on top of people-wrangling, I was chasing after him.

So I woke up very tired.

And perhaps it’s not all that interesting, but I woke up with Daredevil (the cat) snuggled up right next to me in my bed.

And I was petting him.

This cat has got me petting him in my sleep!

Jedi-mind tricks indeed.

Dreaming in metaphor…

In The Daily Drool on February 5, 2010 at 9:22 am

Well, it’s not the first time I’ve done this. In fact, if I’m to look at the inner workings of my mind, I may not understand the machinations of it but I think it would distinctly resemble a miniature home theatre system as I tend to see the world around me in metaphor or allegorically.  It’s one of the reasons I’m such a great teacher (yes, I’ve been told)  because I am able to translate the lesson into something concrete and visible.  AND, if I’m honest, it’s something I particularly like about me.  I enjoy this gift of illustration.  It’s evident in my writing too, as I generally tend to start a story from a visual place.

Which is why I shouldn’t be surprised at last night’s dreams… dreams so vivid that I kind of woke up exhausted.  Dreams so obvious that I woke up shakiing my head and almost chuckling.  See, last night I was driving… racing even… and I couldn’t see where I was going.  The car was hard to control and there were too many obstacles and I felt myself steering from further and further away until the car was in the distance and I was holding the wheel from just beyond view… and it was freaking me out BIG TIME.

And then I turned my head and my parents were there… I was inside their car.  And I told them I’d stalled out and could they please drive for a while.

Which is fantastic because that is EXACTLY what is happening right now.

So, I suppose you could say that my subconscious and I are on the same page about “Tiffany’s State of the Union.”  I can’t put my finger on it exactly, but there is something reassuring about that kind of synergy.


In The Daily Drool on January 18, 2010 at 11:31 am

Last night I got a job as a secretary/data entry supervisor and went hiking up a frighteningly narrow path-turned deep, pressurized cave.

As you can imagine, I woke up very tired.

I can’t explain either one of these dream away, I don’t know where they came from… or do I?

I’ve been spending a lot of time with Jane Doe, and she works in a ridiculous office environment wherein the stacks of papers on her desk just keep getting bigger and the partners upstairs keep taxing her with more, well, tasks.  Maybe some of me wanted to commiserate with my main character a bit.  All I know is in my dream I was going to have to be at work every day from 6:30-6:30 and I was making $12 an hour to sit at a desk sans computer!  Gah!

And the hiking trail gone wicked?  I think that’s due to a story idea I had on Saturday that has been tapping at my shoulder (I’ve got to finish a few other things first, but I hear you!  I promise!  You’re very exciting.  Just, please, hang around!)  In it, we’ve got a cave system, so Voila’ – that makes sense.  But it was really intense.  I woke up gasping for air as the pressure in the caves was becoming unbearable and I could hear someone running behind me to catch up.  I didn’t know who they were, but they were freaking me out!

So morning shows her lovely face and I’m still tossing and turning in bed with naught for rest behind me.

But I think this is just the price you pay when you have a really active imagination sometimes… and perhaps because you’ve had too much wine.

Yeah.  Did I not mention the wine?


Strange Dream Hangover

In The Daily Drool on January 4, 2010 at 12:56 pm

Strange faces and weird encounters… that was last night.  I had CSI dreams of a red-headed girl being handed over to a Madame, my mom making hats, going back in time to 1986, trying to find someone to feed my cats while I was time traveling…  No wonder I’m so tired today.

And I don’t feel like doing anything.

Because I was crazy busy last night in my sleep.

The disappointing thing is that none of it was particularly enjoyable (except maybe the time traveling) So rather than be exhausted from mad-cap adventures and joy, I’m grumpy and tired from nonsensical stress.


Perhaps tonight I should partake in some soothing warm milk and crisp happy cookies before bed in a peace offering to ‘ol Mister Sandman and his magic.

Anthropologist of Wonder

In The Daily Drool on October 20, 2009 at 6:00 pm

Is it any wonder artists are so prone to madness?  We hear, see, taste, feel everything!  Our minds, bodies, and souls are tuned in to those hard-to-hear frequencies… frequencies that the average citizen remains blissfully unaware of… and with a predisposition to listen to so many channels, it’s no wonder we get labeled eccentric, quirky, or just plain crazy (warranted or not.)

Today, at my odd job surveying teens, I was sitting in a gymnasium (woof, I don’t miss P.E.!) with oodles and oodles of school kids, minding my own business when there came a tap, tap, tapping.  Now, the obvious source was one of the 8th graders seated on the floor nearby, but for some reason I looked to the trash located to my right as though some little garbage monkey had begun playing the drums… and allowed that idea to sit for a moment before even thinking to ask where the sound was “really” coming from.

Because (cue the circus music)it didn’t seem that impossible.

And as I sat there, completely open to the possibility of garbage monkeys in Topanga and what they might be doing hanging around with the middle schoolers, (kids do manufacture a lot of trash) it occurred to me that the patterns of thought exercising my brain on a steady basis might be a little bit… unusual.  I mean, people don’t probably go from “Hmm, I wonder what that sound it” cue eyes… see garbage can, VOILA “Garbage Monkeys!”

Then, the observational “Me” who was noting this unusual thinking got to remembering yesterday’s date confusion.  See, I got to the “date” section on a form I was filling in and wrote 10/18/08… then I stared at it, at that infinite 8, in utter confusion.  What year is it? My brain asked as it ran around and around itself in perfectly mimicked loops searching for the answer… (none came)… and then it asked Does it really matter?  I mean, what is our human obsession with time and counting anyway?  The earth doesn’t care about our calendars, seconds, decades… It’s just a symbol!  An assignment.  It’s wholly and completely meaningless! (15 seconds… still staring at the form and that “8”) But what year have we decided upon right now?  Am I really here, facing this conundrum or am I having some sort of existential crisis in the memory of this Post Office line? (25 seconds) Why does this seem to unimportant?  Is time, and therefore the year, and therefore more things by association, decided by my action, or am I a slave to this assignment?  What happens if I call it 2008?  Or 1008?  Anything?  Is this a shift in consciousness or am I consciously loosing it? (40 damn seconds Tiffany!) …   …   …   2008, it feels… weird…

And then  I remember, not because I feel some kind of lunar “Click” but because I can “see” my pen on paper the week before writing 10/9/09 over and over again at a another survey school.

So I scratch out the infinite 8 and draw in the less frightening 9… my mind still racing because I don’t believe in it.  Somehow, some remainder of the confusion has remained long enough for my mind to echo Time is just something we invented to give the illusion of control… control over the seasons, over the sun, over our own imprefect and short existence on this planet… as if Nature or the Earth gave a damn how old we think they are.

And there I stood, form filled out, completely irreverant and not at all unsettled by my ponderings… And I felt (for a moment) outside it all.  I felt completely untethered to these human rules we fight for… and I felt fine.

See -Is it a step, an inch, a breath away from madness?  Or do I simply have one foot in Neverland, one foot still here writing down all I can see?

An Odd Little Ode to my Zzzz

In The Daily Drool on September 22, 2009 at 9:43 am
Ahh, Sleep, how I love thee!
Your comforting gentility whisks me away to strange and convenient lands
I can fly with you
(like no other companion)
Can sing, skip, breathe underwater…
You soothe my soul with your honest acceptance and unyielding grace.
And if I wake up in the morning with pillow lines upon my cheek,
I don’t mind.
Thank you.


In Essays, The Daily Drool on August 20, 2009 at 10:48 pm

(I actually wrote this a while ago – January as a matter of fact- came across it in my pillaging and don’t think I could put it any better…)

This is what it is… The coming home requires the donning of the CA coat… all the worries and the work, the hopes and fears.  Going home lets me take it off, climb into comfort and feel that everything will be alright, that everything is alright.  Heading back here to my world, which is ripe with uncertainties, brings with it all the heaviness and responsibility that is difficult to want to heft back onto my shoulders.  Not that I’ll notice it as much in a few days, but climbing back into it?  It’s always daunting and full of confusion.

I was driving into work this morning and there was a Huey chopper in the distance, hovering above the 10 fwy.  I could tell it was helicopter-shaped, but it was hovering with such absolute stillness that, from my car, I couldn’t quiet reconcile what I was seeing.  And I started to wonder, so tenuous is my view of “reality”, if I weren’t really still asleep and that this shape, this cardboard cutout, was maybe really a rip in my imagination.  And that little quiver in perception was all it took to make me look around myself without any sort of skepticism at the world, since absolutely anything seemed possible.  I could see the snowcapped mountains in the distance (for the wind cleared the LA fog) and I felt I could be there in an instant if I desired as much, for the world at that moment seemed absolutely of my own making.  And then I looked back towards the helicopter-shape, still disconcerted at it’s steadfast position in the sky, and I see that it IS a helicopter, it’s a big-ass Huey hovering just off the freeway, and I still can’t shake this feeling that I could make anything, absolutely anything, happen, if I just believed in it enough.

And I park the car, head into work, and start reading a script, because that is what I do, and I realize that although I am home, under the heavy coat of “My life” – I almost always get a vote in how that coat is going to look, feel, and fit.  I just don’t always know how to make the threads fit.   But I try.  And maybe if I can remember that more often, if I can hold onto that feeling, I will be more grounded in my life and less like a little balloon in the breeze.

So I’m sharing this with you so you might understand the way I think; that living in our imaginations for extended periods may lead to somewhat skewed perceptions of the world, that reality isn’t necessarily science but magic too, and that sometimes, a helicopter is way more than a shape in the distance.