Spencer

   Super creepy, not sure if I like Spencer or not. When it's good, it's very good. When it's bad, it's worse. I might watch it again. The acting isn't bad. 

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Frankie by Firelight & More DREAMS

  
 2/8

  Terribly sick again last night, so loads of dreams to report. I have to go through my notebook and figure out the four pages of purple scratchings. The first is the hardest, of course. We must have several dream sessions throughout the sleep pattern, three or four. The first dream is usually short, and they get longer. The first dream took place in Oakland, Mummy and Daddy were there. It involved a coffee maker and maybe a woman and a desert or dry creek bed that I’m trying to remember. My coffee maker was stolen, and Alex came. My hair was cut in a short bob, shorter and darker than high school, and I wore tight faded jeans. I confronted a man, a dream person, trying to cuss him out, but the words were stuck in my throat. Only a wheeze escaped. He called me something like a dumbass of a roarer. 

  It gets better. I was in Gettysburg with Mummy, Daddy, and Susan. What I remember first is driving around with Mummy and Daddy and looking for my inn, something like Longwood Inn, but there was some confusion that I’ll come back to. We passed it, a big cream with brown shutters and trim sprawling two storey, and another grand pink brick Georgian style, maybe the Kensington Arms, or something of the like. It was suburbia; then we came to town. I realized now that it was hot, June. We boarded a scenic railway. I was sitting next to Daddy, and Mummy sat across from me. Mummy and I were discussing some up and coming Poe movie that was soon to be released. Daddy was picking at the corner of a postcard with a white carousel horse that began to play an old ragtime music box tune, Beautiful Dreamer.  I told him that Longwood, the same man that the inn was associated with, had carved the Kennywood carousel horse and written the tune. He was very impressed. We were talking about the hotels, and I told him that at The Kensington Arms you had to share a bed with two other people. He said that was not good unless you were a pervert. He might’ve remained on the train, but Mummy and I met with Susan and went to a book shop where Mummy bought me three books: a little paperback, a magazine, and a slender coffee table sized hardback with a shiny dust jacket. The paperback was pale blue with a rough cardstock, felt like, cover. There was a simple portrait sketch of the actress in the Poe film done in magenta ink. The magazine also covered the same movie that we were all interested in. I later gave Mummy back the eighty dollars that she had spent in the book shop. Going back to my notebook, I see that while I was taking the cash for Mummy out of my little leather and tapestry zipped purse, I remembered that I already had a room at The Farnsworth House, The Eisenhower suite. Meanwhile Susan was talking about all of the money that she had spent at the dentist. I told her about my ten thousand dollar mouth. Mummy was surprised. When we got to The Farnsworth House, however, the clerk, a white man in a tan, short -sleeved shirt and brown pants, told me that my room was not booked. I told him to check under Ron’s name. I woke up at this point because Frankie was throwing up. As I was sick watching Aquarius last night the Mansons were dumpster diving for food. At the same time Sir Frankie Crisp was rummaging through the powder room trash. I usually keep that door shut from him, but I was sick. 

  Now I had gone up to bed at 7:30 am, and had the third epic dream. I need another cup of coffee, so glad to have kept the first down. I was in school, post grad, only in a small golden lit posh shopping mall. It began with me in a crowded locker room where I could not remember the lock combination for my little white locker. The numbers were marked in red, and I was surprised that the lock opened only I still did not have my schedule, (a computer print-out I could see in my mind’s eye that I was trying to remember, gray block computer numbers, only three or four classes, three, I think), or my books. The problem was that I had missed some classes. It was still early in the semester. Still, I went to my first class that took place in a top notch men's suit store: nothing but dark wood shelves holding dress pants, shirts, ties, and jackets. There was a long glossed wooden table where my class met. The professor was a young woman who said that she’d wanted the fancy green tea that I was drinking. We all had special teas in swank glassware: concoctions with ice and foam. She called me a gypsy, I could tell she liked me a lot. One of my old students, Westley, was in this class, at the table, with me. At one point we got up from our seats and were standing in the shop. I dropped my brown crochet light, long sweater on the floor. A light skinned black girl with ponytails had her yellow t shirt with a pink sunflower over her face, so that it looked like she wore a lion mask. I asked if she was a Leo, and she was. The professor was delighted and impressed. The shop owner, a faceless cardboard cutout dressed in a real good suit, with a name tag was talking to me. He also was impressed. Seemed the mall had been losing business, so they started sharing classes there. Nothing seemed that big of a deal at the time. After class Westley and I wandered the mall for something to eat. First I got onion rings, really good, big fried rings on a long rectangular cardboard  tray, but it didn’t stop there. Westley got some chicken, and we also had popcorn and maybe even pizza. I had a big bag of leftovers and offered them to a boy, but said that I would take some of the popcorn and pizza, I think, home. He tried to pay me, but his cash was fake paper napkins. Westley and I walked on. He was talking about his law degree, and I said that my friend, Rick, also had his law degree but was not practicing. I saw my old boyfriend Curt, again, only this time he was dressed in brown. He was young and tan and ducked back into a womens’ clothes store. Now a Prince cover was singing from behind some colorful kiddie play balls. There was a big Asian girl who showed me a Peter Pan themed amusement that they were in the process of removing. It had an unplugged neon sign and waterfall. I was sorry I had missed it. We ascended the aqua blue plastic waterfall. The water had been turned off. There were also some leftover Caspar items. She wound a little plastic toy up, and it spun round her hand. There was another Caspar themed plastic napkin ring? I took it. It was time for my next class, and I was hoping I got it right. It was in a bigger open shop that seemed to be for Asian imports and crafts. The class wore colorful paper animal masks and were speaking in German. I was totally lost. The instructor and students let me know that I was in the wrong class, and I was starting to get worried. I wondered what I was doing there. I told myself that I already had a master’s and teaching degree. Faux Prince was still singing when I reached up to take a plush pink flamingo that was in a furry pink ring shape. There were other animals like it hanging near the play balls in a sort of net set up. When I noticed a crowd watching me, I left it, and they were singing a ditty, making fun of me for not belonging at the mall, and trying to steal the flamingo prize when I woke up.

Dana's Dreams

Trixie

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Sick Dreams

 2/6

  Due to staying up all night watching Aquarius and finishing off a bottle of cheap guinea pinot grigio I was too lazy to write down my first couple of dreams that came with the ice storm. No worries, the third made up for them all. I was back in the house in Oakland only it was different, and there were other occupants including an old balding man. The place had a massive attic, and the old man opened up a grocery store up there. He said it was always his dream. I was flabbergasted by the bins of fresh fruits and vegetables: peppers and bananas. There was a keg of chardonnay, and I filled my fishbowl glass from the floor. But there was more, a lot more. At the far concrete block wall was a set of restrooms and an elevator. Beyond that was another room, a Christmas room, brimming with decorated trees with baskets of ceramics, ornaments, and crafts on the floor. I saw Mummy and Daddy, and none of us could believe it. Daddy was a bit overcome with it all and just sat and rested. The old man took me back to the front of the attic where there was a little room with a window that led out to sea. On a deck were a group of native fishermen and the water was swarming with black and white fish about the size of bluegills with fangs like a terrier. Dreaming, I knew their name, something like spelt. They were thrashing against the glass and broke through, three of them were flopping on the floor. There were a couple other women standing against the wall. I left the room having to use the bathroom. The bathrooms were a surprise: three of them, all different. The third was big for handicapped and pretty standard, but the first two were decorated with wreaths of raffia with red ribbons, hand towels, and other country decor. The first one had a shower with a plastic curtain. None of them locked, however, so I couldn’t use them. Mummy was there, using the second restroom. After leaving I wanted to go downstairs as I knew there were more bathrooms there. First I ran into Tim. He asked me if I could get him a Mountain Dew, and I told them they had Dr. Pepper. Then I met my brother and told him about the natives and fish. There were all sorts of cardboard boxes lining the wall full of an assortment of things including Red Witch who I took. I was wondering what she was doing there and if the old man had looted my dollhouses, only I could not remember seeing them. Then I came upon a girl, who I knew; she told me she was with a guy who I had dumped while taking a bath. I told her that was not how it happened as I was picturing it in my mind: I was in a clawfoot bathtub frothy with bubbles. My hair was tied back, and I had a natural sea sponge. Jess from Gilmore Girls came in, and I told him to get lost or something of the like. Then he, Jess, joined the girl. He was wearing a long dark wool coat and a red scarf. I still had to go to the bathroom, which is common in my dreams because I really have to go. 😂 That’s when I met Matt Koett. I showed him Red Witch, and he asked about the other dolls. I said that I didn’t know that I’d only found Red Witch. I finally reached the elevators where there was a girl with red hair that I’d known in the dream. She was selling fresh vegetables like green peppers and had a sign on her stand that read Live Oats. We spoke for a bit, and I moved on to where a woman was standing at the elevators complaining about missing her flight due to the monstrous market. There was a wall of stuffed animals like pink Squishmallows and lots more behind her when I woke up because I  had to go to the bathroom. 

2/7

  Very sick last night, so I did not dream until morning. I was at a class reunion. It began beneath a yellow and white tent where I was with some dream people that I knew when Janeen joined us, cute and chatty as ever. After she had gone John  came in, and when he heard that Janeen had just been there he said that she was such a slut. I told him that I’d heard the same about him, so he left. I was folding a burgundy satin sleeveless gown and a little black sequined shrug in the back corner that I had planned to wear to the outdoor ball later. Then there was a sort of alumni variety show. Theresa was there afterwards although she wasn’t in my class, which I hadn’t thought of. There were others, dream people, that I don’t really know. Theresa and I were in a dark sort of alcove, a place where two doors met. Curt, dressed in black, came in and stood against the door. He was trying to get my attention, “Dana… Dana”, but I was talking to somebody and had my back towards him. He got huffy and left. Theresa said that he was rude as usual. I told her that he had gotten snippy with Susan lately too. Now we had a kind of This is Your Life spread. It looked like a flea market, (I dream about them a lot), but the items were not for sale, they only represented our lives. I was talking to a woman who at first I did not remember, Cindy, maybe. She was accompanied by an older woman with black tied back hair, dressed in gypsy like silk skirts, her aunt. There was a black and white eight by ten photograph of her with her late parents. Supposedly she was some sort of debutante or lesser royalty. She had silk dolls that her aunt had made. When it got time to pack our stuff up and put it away I was helping her. Then I remembered having met her when we were teenagers. I put a little box with yellow and orange plastic gems in a box and taped it up. Her aunt said that it was cheap, and that she hadn’t made it, perhaps, her sister had. I was so busy helping others that I had avoided my own hoard that Theresa was packing up. I looked under a table, there were lots of big cardboard boxes, but they all had somebody’s last name printed in red magic marker on them. I looked at a box of mine that Mummy had sent. It was full of junk including a naked wooden doll with a primitive face wearing a bonnet. Her body was smooth and straight. She was a bit bigger than a Barbie. I noticed a beautiful black and gold Japanese bed with white silk sheets that a woman who was not in my class had in the front of the room. I was thinking that people had brought their very best. Leaving through a sunny glass door like you’d find at a diner, Jennifer Davidson told me to keep in touch. I was thinking that I wouldn’t, but that maybe we’d have a party and how much I liked parties.

Loreena McKennitt Art Doll

 

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Crazy Dreaming

 

  2/2

  Lots of dreaming after finally falling asleep on the couch and moving upstairs with the dolls. First I was with my childhood friend, Kelly Casey, only we were now adults. It took place in a large convention area in downtown Pittsburgh during the day. After class, or whatever we were there for, we moved to a small cafeteria space with a counter for lunch. Kelly got a red paper carton of milk and a plastic cup of tapioca pudding. I got a can of Diet Coke. We were talking about milk, and how I did not drink it as a child. Afterwards we walked outside where there was a mound of crystals surrounding a small cavern. There was a yellow triad quartz at the top of the mound. A fat blonde, who was with her boyfriend, broke the citrine off and stole it. I also had a chunk of quartz with gray, green, and fuchsia dripping colors like candle wax, very shiny. I’m not sure if we were at ground level, outside, or on the rooftop. There were clusters of bronze and concrete statues all around including one of Zeus on his knees. We passed a black obsidian ziggurat on the right. It was about seven feet high and narrow like a Victorian feather Christmas tree, very intricately carved. There were two metal caskets with padlocks on the ground. A woman told us that a wife had locked her husband’s bones within them. Now we walked beyond to a fair. There were lots of crystal geodes for sale on long white clothed tables. 

  Now I was in class and about to present a book I had written and covered. When it was my turn I realized that it was not the book that I wanted to present. It was a big square shape with a black snakeskin type of cover. The title, something like, Lucid, but not quite, was affixed in a mosaic of sequins. Inside were only copies on heavy magazine paper of old black pen script on burnt parchment. The other book had a fabric cover and is an old puppet show script for Cannery Row that I had helped my students with. I still have it. The fabric looks like the sea or an oil spill, greens and blues. I was thinking that I did not want to present either of those books, rather maybe my paperback Selected Poems because The Three Witches Magic Shoppe Adventures in Doll Land and Fanging with Claude were much too long. I discussed it with my teacher, a woman in her forties with short blonde hair, and she seemed irritated. She was not happy with my choices, wanting me to present Lucid. She got kind of shitty and told me to find my book or clean my house.

  Finally it was Christmas at Grandma Andres’s house, only the house was different. I was trying to film two episodes of my dollhouse soap operas, one in The Magic Shoppe and the other in a tall three storey dollhouse. It had a pink plastic staircase that I had to snap back into place at the top. One of Aunt Nancy’s Dawn dolls, Jessica, with the blonde braids, stood there wearing a long faux fur trimmed white coat. I had filmed the first episode then decidedly fixed a brown clay pony, still soft, and wanted to reshoot. I was working on the lighting. Daddy came and wanted me to come through the Cornwall tunnel with him. My Aunt Janet and Grandma were holding up production somehow. I told Grandma that every girl could have a palm sized Cindy doll that I had made. They had blonde bobbed hair and were dressed in white cotton nightgowns. They were seated in the bottom of the tall house, and I was wondering if I had enough. I think there were five of them. I was about to give up filming as there was too much distraction when I woke up.