Farmhouse Hostages

April 21, 2009

I was someone in this dream, but wasn’t myself. I was taller and had really short brown hair. (This is the second dream with this pseudo – me, the first one was a few years ago – which I have documented – perhaps I will post that one at a later time). There was a group of us, with myself included, that traveled to this farm area that was out in the middle of nowhere. It was surrounded with a small rural city as well. We were there to specifically see one man who lived in a very old farmhouse and also rented out another farmhouse on his property. He was a very nice old farmer and was very helpful. We needed to stay with him a few days, trying to procure the things we needed from him for the T.I.M.E. – Digital Arts department (where I currently work) using purchase orders. Eventually, we went over a few things and I purchased copies of his books that we needed (copies from a copy machine). Three or four of the copies that we needed totaled $30.00 but one of the copies was $75.00. We purchased them, and then purchased something else of his for $75.00 as well. (I forget what it was now…) The next day I realized that we didn’t actually have that amount of money left in our budget and had gone over it. I asked the old man to come to the house we were staying at and to help me figure things out. I was hoping that I could ‘return’ the copies and the other thing that I had purchased from him for $75.00 and get my money back. He started getting incredibly irate with me over it and explained that he had already bought a tweed jacket from the internet and showed me a picture of it. It looked like the typical type of jacket that high school football players wear – the two toned colored ones with their number on the back. I finally said that I was sorry for the inconvenience and decided not to take the money back. He was still extremely angry with me and with everyone I was with (who I do not know in real life) and I explained that I didn’t want our discussion to ruin our friendship together. Somehow, after that, he would not let us leave the house and was keeping us there as hostages. The next day, his roof caved in because his house was so old. He had to ‘move’ in with us. This made it harder for us to escape, since, every time we tried he would be there – keeping us from leaving. I wondered if our employers wondered where we were. At one point, one of the houses close to the farmhouse where we were being imprisoned, was surprisingly closer. I was able to walk out onto the roof of the porch (by exiting a second story window) and jump onto the other houses’ roof. I jumped down and started running down the rural neighborhood street. A few houses down was a cop, dressed in his blue uniform and cap, raking leaves. I came up to him and explained what was going on and asked him to help me. He completely ignored me, as if I wasn’t there, and just kept raking leaves. I realized that he wouldn’t do anything about it because he was 100% aware of what our captor was doing and so was everyone else. They weren’t necessarily in on it, but they wouldn’t stop it either. I was afraid that there were people in on it, or people that would help the old man instead of us in this rural community. That made me apprehensive about which door I could knock on and ask to use the phone, or who I could cry and plead my case to in the neighborhood. I figured that no one would help and after walking a long way in both directions, I gave up and went back to the house because my friends were still imprisoned there. We would have to find a different way…

Note:

I wonder if this dream has something to do with a book I read about a year ago called “Escape” about a woman trying to escape from her Mormon husband, religion, and community. At one point, as she tries to leave, she is caught by the police in her area. Since they are Mormon too, they just take her back to her husband instead of hearing her pleas to be let free.

Wow, lately… my dreams have had a lot to do with religion. I blame it on Easter and my dislike for the holiday. I can usually skate through religious holidays because most of their ‘customs’ have little to do with religion. Easter is a bit different because there isn’t a bunch of crazy festivities (like Christmas has) to cover up it’s real meaning. I spend a lot of Easter dinner pretty silent so that I don’t offend my family with my religious (or lack there of) tendencies. I wonder if the uncomfort and angst I have around the holidays is coming out right now in my dreams…… !

Also, the old man was very nasty to us. He didn’t actually have a gun, exercise any type of force, or wield any other weapons but somehow we knew that we couldn’t leave and that he wouldn’t let us.

Margaret Cho's Monkey Lizards

April 2nd, 2009

I was in someone’s garage – a garage not connected to a house, and actually, there were no houses on that property. There was just a garage with a driveway leading to it and hedges on either side. Also, on either side of the garage’s property were two houses, one on the right had a garage attached to it and very close to the hedge boundary of the garage I was in. The person that owned that property must also this lonely garage. I walked around, admiring all the crazy clutter, when I saw a metal 8 ft tall shelf with a weird infestation. They were strange monkey like creatures with some black fur and hands with opposable thumbs, but their back ends were green and chameleon lizard like. I couldn’t decide, through the whole encounter, whether they were monkeys or lizards. The only thing I did know was they were a very common animal – like sparrows or squirrels, and were everywhere. I started trying to teach them things. I tried to teach them how to give the middle finger, since I didn’t know sign language. I kept giving them the middle finger until they caught on and did it back. When they did, it looked more like the way that Margaret Cho does it, which actually looks really awkward. They will be able to pull their middle finger up, but only halfway bending their other fingers down instead of holding them down with their thumb. Then, some man noticed that I was in his garage and came in yelling ‘What did you see!?’ I pointed at the monkey-lizards and walked past him down the driveway in the bright sun – I think I was in L.A. or somewhere else wonderfully sunny and warm. He started following me really discretely, under the impression that I wouldn’t know he was behind me. I think he thought I saw something illegal in his garage (which I didn’t) and wanted to get rid of me. I would start talking to people about my problems and my fears about this guy following me. The guy would actually switch them out for someone that looked very similar to the person I was talking to. This person would try to kill me and I eventually caught on that the guy following me was omnipotent and was finding hit men that looked like the people I was talking to. I started to get more and more wary, and during one conversation, I realized that I wasn’t talking to the same person any more and actually saw the swap take place. I started running away.

Notes:

We went to see Margaret Cho in November, who is my favorite comedian, and I marveled at how she could flip people off without holding her other fingers down – and so effortlessly.

I visited L.A. this year to research grad schools. I also went to Florida this year as well, so this dream could take place at either of those.

March 25th 2009

Thin Mint Assault

I was standing in the doorway of the bathroom from my childhood West Park Cleveland home, watching a scene happen in front of me. Although I was physically standing in the scene I knew that I was really watching a movie. There were two people in the bathroom, standing in front of the sink, a teenage man and woman. The man was holding out a thin mint Girl Scout cookie for the girl to take, which she did, and ate it. After the first one, he started offering her a second, which he was taking out of a medicine cabinet filled with other baked items: muffins, scones, other cookies. As he tried to force her into taking another Thin Mint she pointed at a chocolate muffin in the case and asked for it. He refused to give it to her and started getting extremely hostile about her refusal. He put his hand on her back, not actually hitting her or holding onto her, but in such a stern way it was obvious that he was slowly overtaking her by force. He started rubbing the cookie all over her face, trying to get her to take it. She started crying and then he finally said: “If you don’t want them, then you can give me the other ones back” and pushed her over toward the toilet. She stuck her finger down her throat to throw the cookie she ate back up into the toilet. At this part (when the girl induced vomit and started throwing up in the toilet) I looked away. Instead of seeing the person next to me in the theatre, like I should have, I saw my own reflection on the mirror located on the outside of the door. Since the door opened into the bathroom and I was standing in the doorway, I would logically see that if I turned my head to the right.


Notes:

Thin Mints and those delightful peanut butter cookies are my favorite Girl Scout cookies and I used to absolutely love them.

It grosses me out when people bring anything edible into the bathroom. This could even be a covered pop from McDonald’s or a stick of gum. Anything that could potentially be consumed must not EVER go into a bathroom. Also, if I am chewing something, I need to swallow it before entering the bathroom also, because the bathroom air will taint it… So, it’s very interesting that there was a medicine cabinet filled with bakery (which is my favorite type of food)….

Also, I have an extreme fear of throwing up. I had to see a psychiatrist about it in high school because I wouldn’t actually eat, was 87 lbs., and anemic. (Although, 87 lbs is still technically a healthy weight for someone my height, so that weight is shocking but not shocking)… This fear of throwing up hinders a lot of my life. I have a lot of dreams about it and, depending on how ‘gory’ they are, can affect me all day or for multiple days making me more paranoid about my food choices, my acid reflux disorder, and anything else that could potentially make me throw up.

I have never been in the Girl Scouts but I have friends that have been.