Dolls & Dreams 8/11

 

8/11

  My first dream took place in a big old school where I was working. There was a craft fair, and a woman had a table of crafts and a round basket on the floor overflowing with stuffed primitives. I had a gray rabbit in my hand and sorted through the basket finding more rabbits. An older woman behind me took three rabbits. I found another, black rabbit, with very long arms and short legs. There was a bee who had a $62 price tag on his head. There was a furry gingerbread man with a pattern stuck on his tacky backside. Removing the pattern that featured a small girl on the cover, the ginger man’s backside was covered with gingerbread scratch and sniff stickers. He was $20, and I held on to him. I found a large Holly Hobbie type of doll with a blue and red gingham gown and bonnet. Her face was soft sculpted sort of like a Cabbage Patch Kid only linen, not stockinette. Her eyes were halfway closed. She was $64. I took them both to the vendor who was busy with another customer. I waited, then put them back. I was walking down the hall where a little boy with brown hair was turning somersaults. His dad, a colleague of mine, grabbed him up, calling him sweetheart. 

  The second dream seemed like an extension of the first. Ron and I drove out to a doll show on a snowy night. The show also took place in an old school. At first, we thought that it had been cancelled, because it was dark, and there weren’t many people around. Ron was straggling, and I left him behind. I came across a family. Their boy, a preteen, said that he had gone down the hall looking for his old room, but it was vacant. The floor was dirt. I did see a big cardboard box of old dolls but didn’t want any of them.

Dana's Dreams

Dana's Dreams Two

Dreams 8/26

 8/26

  This dream starred the actress Anna Kendrick and Bobby, one of my grade school friends. We were interviewing to teach at a small complex that consisted of three schools. The oldest was also the smallest, constructed of stone; it might’ve started as a church. The other two were more recent, probably from the fifties and sixties, and made of brick. The three were huddled together. The room where we were interviewing was nearby, but not in any of the three schools. Anna thought that the oldest stone building was really posh and historic, I agreed. I had a big wedding portfolio with a couple of homemade linen calla lilies tied together with a bow. The artist’s, Lois, business card was affixed to the inside back cover. I think we all got the job because I was sitting in the passenger seat of Bobby’s car. He said that we should have a celebratory drink, something feminine like white wine, and I laughed and said that the occasion called for whiskey, brandy, or scotch. There was a garden party at night, and Anne Rice was the entertainment. She was dressed half naked like Cher. Her long cone plastic skirt was transparent, and she wore white hot pants beneath her matching bandeau top. Young and slim, her hair was cut into a bob. Her song was atrocious. Everybody agreed, just awful. Was it French? I don’t know, but it was bad. I was setting up my classroom, both Anna and Bobby were there. There was a paper flower hanging by the clock. That’s when I woke up. It wasn’t a bad dream.

Dana's Dreams

Dana's Dreams Two

In the works: Dana's Dreams Three Revenge of the Dream Hog

Back to School Sale: 15% off DARK SHADOWS & TAROT

Coupon Code: School2025

 

Sinead O`Connor - Arsenio Hall 1991

What a Dream

2/27

  Very different and interesting dream tonight, it started at Slippery Rock where I was living in a dormitory with Ron. I was a blonde and wore a long hot pink skirt. I had left for my night classes, either grad school or post grad, and passed a burned out recreational building, long and rectangular like a gym. I ran into a couple of brothers, white boys in their twenties with short brown hair. For some reason, unbeknownst to me, I was hiding under a tarp in a boat with the younger of the two who also now had a punched nose. Then I was back with them both. We walked across a campus green. I took two joints from a silver cigarette case from my green tapestry flood bag that I bought in North Carolina and used for years when I taught. The one joint was very loose and badly rolled which I apologized for. The older one was very friendly, and I was supposed to join them somewhere but was separated with a young dark haired woman on the lawn in front of a small office building. That’s when a woman came out, campus police, or something, and started hounding me over my id. The young woman ran off, spooked. I was amiable with the woman and digging through my bag. There wasn’t much in the bottom, just some old ids, none of which suited the woman. I joined her in the office where the younger brother with the punched nose was sitting in a cubicle getting interviewed by an older man. I rushed past them into the back explaining that I could not be seen by Mr. Punched when a heavy set man with greasy dark hair wearing a black suit and glasses joined me and another fellow saying that it was alright. It would be hush hush. I told them that I was in with Ike. Now an older woman was fussing over me. She grabbed me in the crotch. There was another girl with a buzz cut wearing black pinstripe tights and a short denim skirt. This woman did not trust or care for Miss Buzz Cut. Her grown son dressed in black and wearing a black hat came into the building led by a thirteen year old shepherd mix on a leash. I was petting the dog. Like his mother he backed into me and poked me in the crotch, only more subtly than his mother had done. There now was a big fuss about me in the back around a long conference table. I felt as if the entire ordeal was a run around, and that all of these people were inept. A blonde woman basically said that I had to go. The man in charge, slender in a white shirt and black glasses with more slimy black hair told her, “You’d be shitting your pants if Floyd flirted with you.” I was beginning to ascertain that they wanted the older brother for something, something big. Burning down the campus building? I did not know. I was losing my patience with the lot of them. Up until this point they all were very impressed by how calm I had remained. I gathered that they planned on using this against Floyd. I told them that I had missed class. I was fed up with them all and asked them if this was their usual shit show. Mr. In Charge said that did not matter that I worked for them now. He asked me who my hero was. I started thinking and becoming lucid. I told them that I had no hero or love for the Fuckers Butting In nor the Commie Infiltration Agency, that I did not like the government or the presidents besides Eisenhower when I woke up. After jotting down my notes in my dream book, (I turned on the light this time, so that I could make them out.), I fell into other little bouts of sleep where I was in the same dream, and there were piles of white paper on a desk in the same office.

Look at this silly kitty, he's been so bad. Up to page 135 in Dana's Dreams Two, already. It might be the Native American in me. I certainly am a dreamer. 🌜🌝🌛  

Dana's Dreams 

Dream Notebooks

 11/18

  So many dreams to report, and I scribbled them in my dream notebook in the dark, so it’s like automatic writing and will require some deciphering and translating. First, Tim was here in the dining room and admired my high school class ring that I wasn’t wearing. Ron had an adorable buff colored rat terrier who looked like he had a mustache. The word, “steam”, is written in my dream book, but I can’t remember what it referred to: some sort of cleaning, I think. Maybe Frankie, the cat, had to be steam cleaned, but I can’t be sure. 

  Then I was walking my old grade school route to school, my old girlfriend, Stephanie Schwerian, was sitting on the steps. She wore a soft powder blue sweater, and her hair was longer. She mentioned something to me about “woke ass Irish” according to my dream script. I’m not sure what that refers to, but I think it had something to do with my tall dark haired boyfriend, Brian, who I also used to work with in a bar in the South Side. It wasn’t grade school, it was an enormous industrial high school, very stainless steel. I was driving my car, then, and Brian was in the passenger seat. There was a naked pink pearlescent Monster High doll with wavy blonde hair who was positioned backwards with her ass against the dashboard. Somehow she was interfering with my driving. “Gas tank” is scribbled in the notes, then, “stop”. I think I had told Brian that my gas gauge was broken, and he had me stop. 

  Then I dreamed of a broken glass cabinet in the bathroom that hung over the sink. 

  Finally, the show stopper: I was an English teacher and was hosting a big Halloween party. I had rented a hall. What was more, there had been a national essay contest sponsored by somebody, and people that weren’t even my students, like Theresa, had entered. I had given a guy with auburn hair a cassette tape which I thought had old Smiths cover songs that my friends and I had performed. I got the results of the essay contest and Theresa had won first prize, $ 2,700, that in the dream I kept wondering if it was $27,000. An old student of mine, Allen, I think, had also won second or third prize, $2,600. While I was in the bathroom I could hear the tape playing, and it wasn’t me and my friends, rather old Smiths. There was a dark haired girl in there with me who was kind of picking on me for that. I was not perturbed. I sort of joked with the guy about thinking it had been us. Then, a girl, who looked like his twin sister in a lace blouse, showed me a white chandelier type of necklace that she wore around her neck. It was for holding your joint, and as she held it between her fingers she sang a little supposed Smiths song all about it. Theresa was there, and I was thinking she should have it for winning the contest. I was also thinking that Ron really could sing like Morrissey and suggested to the guy that Ron and I should sing a cover song. I awoke with, “Hang the DJ”, playing in my head. 

  Kudos to my dream notebook. If not for it I only would’ve remembered the final dream.

I haven't blogged my dreams in over a month. They've been going directly to Dana's Dreams Two. I started that back in June, and I'm around page forty-five. You can get Dana's Dreams here:

Dana's Dreams

It is available as a paperback or ebook. It has some watercolors and photographs. So far Dana's Dreams Two does not. I don't know if it will, so it might be a lot more reasonable in paperback than the first. They are big books.

Doc Holliday | Full Western Movie

  Frankie is in his rocking Archie Bunker chair, and I've got some pear cider and Malbec. I like mixing them with some pomegranate seeds for fun. I'm sort of over the moon. Doc Holliday is a hero of mine. I wrote a paper on him in grad school. I was the only girl in the class. Of course I got an A. I still see my professor on The History Channel now and then. Doc deserves a novel. Maybe after Fanging with Claude? 

Sinéad O'Connor - I Want Your Hands On Me (Official Music Video)

Some things never change or get old with me. 💖 It's a gift. 

O, My Ghoul!

   O, my ghoul, I thought she was just a commie hyena ho who sucked old political cock, let pedophiles off the hook, and was Oogie Booger's buddy to get where she is. I didn't realize she was a complete moron. I had eighth grade students that could speak better than this. Even the special ed kids were better. It's not funny. 

See the Moron for Yourself

  Holy shitter, I think the commies have already deleted the video. I shouldn't be surprised. I hate shitter and all psycho media. I had quit shitter back when Oogie Booger was president. I continued to recieve his commie 💩 even after SPAMMING him. Then, after Elon Musk took over I magically, (that goes out to Dame Darcy ✨), started getting emails from X. I started to use it, only to get suspended. Now, they won't let me delete my account, says it's because I'm suspended. In other words, still 💩. 

Read the Full Article, Then!

  As my great grade school girlfriend put it, "we're fucked". 

  PS: The Kid Smeller Knows what a Moronic Liar She Is

  O, & What a Ho

  Dude, she's a little long in the tooth to suck her way out of this 💩. 

  Sho' nuf' tain't no Roller Girl.

Dreams 9/28

   Cannot recall much from most of the dream except for the end. I was teaching, and it was the last day of school. For some reason I did not have a way home, and an old student of mine, Rick, was more than happy to give me a lift. 

Dreams 9/24

 Dreamed that I was at a girls' school with Katie, it was night. Al Pacino was her dad, and he was livid about some guy who was picking on her or something to that effect. Al was driving a fast dark colored SUV, the roads were slick and wet. He wore a long white coat and black belt. He was rather young, forties, maybe. He sped up through a parking garage wanting to know where Katie was and drove off crazed. 

Dreams 9/16

 Finally was able to catch a bit of sleep only to be embroiled in an epic nightmare. I was working at The Pittsburgh Job Corps but as is often the case with dreams it was something else entirely. I was in my thirties. Donald Trump was in charge. An important family was coming to visit from Russia with their three children, two teenagers and a little boy. Donald had assigned me to watch over them as their goodwill ambassador, and I was over the moon, and felt honored. I went shopping for clothes to meet and greet them in and decided on a little white tee shirt with an impressionist print of a Russian scene with trees in yellow and pale blue that resembled a Matisse to wear beneath a dark brown beautifully cut jacket and a black skirt. 

  In the meantime the family had arrived and were setting into their bright city apartment where they were supposed to be staying for sometime. It had a lot of windows and was haunted. I did not know what haunted the place, only that the family was not the first victims. The specter had taken out the balding father in his navy blue suit, the mother, with her short curly dark blonde hair, and the two teens, a girl and a boy. I did not witness the deaths, only a trail of blood, and another sort of spirit, something else entirely, like a faery or a doll, hiding the little boy dressed in blue fuzzy pajamas, clutching a toy, in a bottom kitchen cabinet from the murderous ghost. 

  But in the dream I was separate and had no idea this had occurred. I was still excited and preparing for their arrival, to show them around. Donald thought I looked smart in my fun new clothes. I still had some running around to do and was driving The Betsy, the '71 Monte Carlo I grew up with. I was in downtown Pittsburgh. It was a dark and dreadful day. A howling winter storm had set in. When I came back from my shopping Betsy was gone, and I wondered if I had parked her in a fire lane. She was parked against the curb in a sort of round-about of wild Pittsburgh traffic. My rational mind told me there was no time for this, and I lucidly blinked her back like Jeannie and continued with my errands. The second time I came back I found her parked on the other side of the road. I drove back to the Job Corps that wasn't. It looked more like an airport, someplace hopping. 

  I changed my clothes and put my new clothes into a tall iron receptacle, something like a mailbox or trashcan in the main office. Another girl was with me and did the same. It was a kind of storage unit which seemed impossible as the clothing was packed into a crumpled heap. I had changed into my red chiffon gown. Donald thought I looked very nice. When I came back for my new clothes, however, they were gone from the receptacle along with the other girl's. Donald and a dark haired woman in a blue suit with a white shirt and red tie, (they were dressed the same, like Obama's Scooby Doo blue suit), who I presumed was his wife, were seated behind a plate of glass like air traffic controllers. I told them about my missing clothes, and the woman was very short and wrote me off quickly with such disregard that I just walked away feeling helpless. I knew better than to try to argue with her. I was just going to have to meet them in my gown. I didn't want to but had no choice. I waited. Then, Donald said that they weren't coming, something terrible had happened. 

Dreams 9/12

  Cannot remember the premise of this dream or much else. This was the end, and what I can recall. I was in high school at my locker. To my left was a big black guy, probably six foot five, in a green and white letterman's jacket. He had a buzz cut. He was purusing a green and white card that seemed to be a little chart. Somehow I had done him wrong, and this was the proof. 
 

Dreams 9/11

 First, I'd forgotten a bit of a dream that I had the other night. It has resurfaced. This happens sometimes. Everything is in there sometimes you just have to fish it out. I can't recall all of the details, but I was out in a yard doing some sort of landscaping when something had gotten caught in some of the machinery that we were using, maybe a tiller. Anyway, I removed the soddy clump or egg, and inside was a little baby plastic Troll with dirty yellow hair. I remember calling it a baby. 

  Today I dreamed that I was at an airport turnstile when Raymond Miller, a boy from grade school, stopped me. He was wearing the same green shirt with the nymphs that he had worn when he was my library partner. He had a scrap of paper in his hand. He asked if I liked The Beatles, and opened his hand. The Beatles was written on the paper in black ink. Beneath it said 4:59 or something close to that. I told him I loved The Beatles, and he asked if I wanted to go see them with him today, and I said, "Yes." I was roaming the airport when Matt, another grade school friend, ran up with the same piece of paper that Raymond had asked if I wanted to go see The Beatles with him at 5:30. He looked to be in junior high, wearing his glasses. Another school friend, Noel, was there, behind him. She looked to be about the same age. At this time Jason Furlong, yet another of us, was going through my head. I told Matt I was sorry, but that I had already told Raymond I'd go with him. "Ray!" He said. I told him he should take Noel. Then I pointed out the time discrepancy, and he seemed perplexed. Now, I was looking everywhere for a restroom as I was feeling as if I had to throw up. I couldn't find one. When I did they did not have stalls, and I was bothered. The sinks were low like for handicapped. I was throwing up cherries in the handicapped sink when I woke up. 

Dreams 8/24

   Another dream where I was rooming with Adinda again at Princeton. This one began in the morning after my first class when I'd realized that I'd lost my schedule and had no idea where I was going. It was a dusky morning, I had a big bag and trekked back to my dorm room looking for my books. Adinda was there sitting cross legged on her bed. The far wall was bookshelves, but mine was empty. Adinda said you know who must've stolen them referring to her old roommate, Joanna. I wandered back out onto the grounds, pretty aimlessly, not knowing where I was going. I was thinking about breakfast and maybe some shopping for books, mostly. I was feeling a little sick and a lot guilty about missing classes. I knew I had three more. There were crowded rummage sorts of shops on campus. There was a brunette who was a Dream Person friend of mine in the one shop that had used books in the front laid out on long tables. She mentioned the one, knowing it was one of mine and free. Although mine had been hardback, this was a used dog eared thick paperback with a pencil scribble in the front. It was titled Faust and had a hunter green leafy background with a closeup oil painting of a faun, a mythological satyr. I put it in my tapestry bag, left it on the floor, and moved on. I found another of my books in hardback, something like Lee Iacoca but not quite. I left it. Now I found a shop selling beautiful hand knit hats. They were ruffled with knit roses, in creams and lilacs. I asked the clerk the price, and she said they were twenty-five dollars. I told her I wanted the purple one and put it on. I roamed across the hall to a stairway painted with lush abstract murals of trees, touched them, and went downstairs to the dining hall that had several rooms full of houseplants like spider plants. I was thinking it was too early for lunch and went back outside. I pondered my classes and how I already had more than one degree so probably should just drop them. I went back to my room and told Adinda I was just going to drop my classes, and she got upset and said that I couldn't because she wouldn't have any other roommate. 

Dreams 8/23

   Dreamed I was staying in a hotel with my grade-school girlfriend and either her brother or her friend, can't recall which. I also don't remember his name although it might've been Buddy. Laurie was bigger and had short dark hair like when we were girls. Buddy was an adult, big and chubby with brown hair and Down's syndrome, I'd guess. I was sleeping on the floor in my room in a heap of clothes when Paris from Gilmore Girls came in. She had very long hair. She told me I had to have Buddy at a certain location at a certain time: fourth floor, two o'clock, I think. Laurie dropped Buddy off with me, and we proceeded through the corridors of the hotel. It seemed more like a dormitory, stark, and not up to hotel standards. Buddy led the way. Then, in a stairway, Buddy got shot in the back of the neck with what might've been a tranquilizer dart. There was a clean little hole at the nape of his neck which was about the size of a pen, but there was no penetrator present as if it either vanished into him or simply melted away. I dragged his heavy body into the adjoining lobby off of the stairway. There was a bed there, and a receptionist. I left him in the bed and went up the stairs looking for Paris. I found her in a long deep room that was well lit and looked more like a laboratory with sectioned off white cubicles. There were several thin white women, besides Paris, with long hair who were naked and looked greasy and unkempt. Paris approached me, and while I was telling her about Buddy and his location I looked to the right, and there on the floor was a purple and red full term dead siamese twin baby. Moving on I proceeded to search for my room which I knew was on the other side of the building. I came to a landing where two white women were with a black man. The black man had a red plastic knife, very sharp, like a shank, and he stabbed me in the side with it. I began to place a witch's curse upon them, telling them they'd all die. This was very difficult as I was somewhat paralyzed and gasping for breath. It seemed to work, they were scared, and I was psychotic and dragged myself away. I found a woman and asked her how I could get back to the other side and my room. She told me I'd never get back and that I had been stabbed for what I did to Buddy. At this point I was very distressed and forced myself awake. 

Dreams 8/2

 The dreaming began with a cloth bound book missing its dust jacket. It was purple and had an old woman in an apron embossed in sparkling turquoise. She might've been a witch. She seemed to be dancing, her apron was caught up in the breeze. Beneath her two children crouched by a washtub. They looked Dutch by their wooden clogs. The girl had long braided pigtails. It might've been a book of fairy tales. 

  In the following dream I was in a cafeteria eating lunch with my friend, Rick. There was a dance coming up, and Rick seemed too thick to realize I wanted him to take me. Later, after the dance, we were leaving, and my grade school friend, Karen, was at the door. She wanted to talk to Rick who was disinterested. 

  The third dream began with me packing for a hiking trip. My backpack was very heavy, and I moved like a turtle due to the two hardback books, one my gigantic college Shakespeare book. I was wearing Mummy's thick brown parka. I'd gotten to an Asian woman's apartment where I opted to leave the Shakespeare and switch to her much lighter leather vest that was loaded with little zippered pockets up the sides. I slipped some pot into the bottom pocket on the left. She didn't seem very happy about the lending. I think her husband was going on the field trip with us. He looked very much like that count in France who murdered his entire family and skipped the country. He wore rose or amber colored sunglases, not sure which, they seemed to change. When I got on the bus it was already very crowded, the black pleather seats were mostly taken. My Aunt Judy was there, a woman in a tan jacket sat beside her. The spot next to my highschool English teacher, Chris, was free, but she had a little black satchel there. She smiled uncomfortably. I sat down adjacent to Aunt Judy and was chatting with her when I woke. 

Dreams 7/15

 Dreamed I was staying in a big old robber baron's type of house with a library. It was dark, and I wasn't supposed to be there. I crept into the library and changed my clothes into a long red dress with black heels. Then, I left for class. I had a class with Colonel Klink from Hogan's Heroes. It was still dark, and as I crossed the campus I came to the hill where I had grown up. A beautiful girl, Michelle Cicconti, was behind me. She called to me,"Dana, that fire that you and Annie started with the cigarettes burned down a house. I love you, but..." She had a white scarf tied around her dark hair and wore a long buff colored wool coat. I hurried along remembering Annie and I getting out of the car in a windstorm, we were smoking. Now, I was at school, and it was a crowd of bustling students. I couldn't remember where my class was. It was nine-thirty. I must've missed class before because I was thinking I could not miss anymore. I asked a girl where Colonel Klink's class was, and she directed me. He was waiting at the door, but it wasn't the real Klink, rather a shorter more robust man with a ruddier complexion, but in the dream I accepted him as the Colonel. He wore a dark striped suit. I went into the bright classroom that had tables like a science lab and woke up. 

Dana's Dreams

 

Just released, Dana's Dreams is a 186 page paperback with a lifetime of color photos. It's pretty crazy. Are you featured in Dana's Dreams? I wouldn't be surprised. 

Get Your Copy of Dana's Dreams

Dreams 6/9

 I dreamed it was my first day of college, and I was moving in to my dorm. The resident advisor gave me directions to my room, the key, and led the way. He said not to notice the noxious smells coming from the back cooridor, to hold my breath. When we passed through that way the white hallway held a beauty parlor. There were children, getting permanent waves with plastic shower caps on their heads. After I'd gotten to my room I was sitting and talking with a big wooly man with ram's horns. He was kind of scary.