Good grief, Preciousses!

Talk about disorientation... who is blowing in smoke of a certain nature into my room when I am having an afternoon nap, hey? Yeah, I take naps sometimes if I get up at four a.m. and look at news cycles. I went out for food instead of writing it all down immediately. Dreams fade.... I should have sat right down and recorded as much as I could, but I woke up hungry from all the running.

But this one was a knock-out, so I still remember a bit of it. For some reason, I was on the run... in Seatlle, where I've never been. It was through cellars, and like a maze, and I was carrying something I had to protect. And it was grainy and gritty, like an old film, at first. And ended with me getting a police mug shot, and I was 'seeing' it through the eyes of the photographer. And I was holding a hamster, which opened it's mouf, and it was so pink, it was incredible, and its little two fangs were soooo white being defiant, it scared me awake. And Grace Slick was belting out 'White Rabbit' in the background, which I haven't heard in years... or decades.

Two things about this. Back in the Seventies, I learned that most people do not dream in glorious Technicolor or 3-D. I do, always have. Number two... I am not into drugs. I tried a couple back in the day. Marijuana made me find hilarity in everything. And hash brownies gave me a trip to remember, thinking that the Salzburg bus was a bomb shelter, and the bombs were falling all around me, and seeing 'people' waltzing in the waters of the Salzach river walking home.... I was wrecked. Since then, never. I thave been known to take a few tokes on a joint if offered, and find that nice, but the brownies 'cured' me of being more curious. This morning I ate some bread and a samwich.

But the dream was so 'curious', hey. Optically plastic, and so real, somehow. And that hamster... feisty.

It didn't help to get up, and find that 'da Ven' was talking about getting a new VA doctor, who was better than the 'technician' he had before, a guy, and pleased with the new lady who is assigned to him and cares. And has to catch up on his potion of choice, 'Days of Our Lives' from yesterday. It was absolutely surreal. But par for the course in the B fambly.... Disorienting. Because he said a couple of things he never otherwise says.



I 'have' to add the video, it was exactly what was playing in my mind in that dream, and I love it muchly. It was an anthem of my youth. An enticement and a warning. And no, I never got to Woodstock. It wasn't so far away from where I was at the time. And I saw posters at a head-shop, and thought, 'Oh, WOW, I so want to go there.' But being the epitome of propriety, I backed out at the last minute... and worked. It rained all that weekend, so I was glad I thought better of it.... till I found out what had gone down, and kicked myself, right into this new century. But at least there are videos, and wow, look at the hair! Tja.

I still wanna know why I was dreaming about a feisty hamster with very white fangs, posing in a mug shot. And that very pink throat of his. It was ... unsettling.

I KNOW about Freud's theories of dreams, and when I am conscious, I can be imaginative.... but that was over the top, for me. Now I'm gonna go look at my Dad's Soap, and try to forget about it. And avoid looking at any CSI series on my pay-for channel. Which makes me very happy. I have gotten more out of that by paying 19,99 Euros for three months' access, than I could have imagined. I'm just glad I didn't dream about gladiators. Showtime has this series which is so brutal, that should have given me daymares. Just sayin'... you keep on going on, hey.