twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (Default)
Last night's sleep was not restful. It felt like eight hours of Martian invasion. It felt very werid, as I and a few others had pre-knowledge about how the Martians would behave and what weapons they had because the invaders where straight out of "The War of the Worlds." And everyone else was laughing at our theory when they weren't running from tripods and their heat-ray. I had dug a shelter in the backyard, so I was very worried about the black smoke.

But since I live in a rural area, the probability of them deploying the black smoke was very low. Unlike where my sister lives. But she's smart and GTFO of the city. We played telephone tag, so while I never spoke to her I knew she was alive.

There was also plenty of crack, like Missouri and Mexico sharing a border. And I don't know whether the Martians having some of the "Mars Attacks!" sensibilities would count or not.
twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (Default)
Last night I dreamed I was in a slightly more realistic Harry Potter novel. The fighting of the Not-Hogwarts and the forces of darkness was going okay until the protection circle broke down. The younger students knew very little magic to begin with, and were just flinging disarming charms. The older students were doing better, but were basically throwing everything that they knew at the advancing army - especially when they didn't know or in the stress of battle couldn't remember the specific counter-spells to attacks. And there were only a handful of teachers, to boot.

And then the evil knights showed up, and it got really nasty. I woke up before the end, but I think it was a slaughter.
twincityhacker: an astronaut planting a Welsh flag on the Moon (Alternate History)
Apparently, when I realize I'm dreaming I complain how unrealistic the dream is until I wake up. The jury is still out on what dreams are, but I'm pretty sure that demanding that my dreamworld obeys logic is not part of the normal package.
twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (Default)
Having dreams about fandom is fun. Having dreams about Children of Earth is not - especially when it's the kind where they're rounding up the kids near where you live. Or in my case, the place made up of all the places I've lived.

The first group of kids I was helping getting a large group of kids onto a bus to get them out of town ahead of the army. But I lost them all because there was a liquid bomb I had to get rid of, and by the time I had dumped out everything the heavily armed soldiers had taken the kids off the bus and onto their trucks and driving off with them.

Then I fell back into my neighborhood, and I managed to scoop up some kids waiting at a bus stop. For some reason the neighborhood was mostly deserted, which was probably my subconscious saving me from watching my next-door-neighbors ( they were a family of deer hunters ) and the army having a shoot out. A little later they were scanning the houses with heat signature cameras, and they caught our residue, but I did something clever with some very large dogs so the army thought they just picked up house pets and not people. Then I woke up, so I got to miss the lovely aftermath.

See, this is why I read "War of the Worlds" and not "The Andromeda Strain." I am several orders of magnitude less likely to have my blood sucked by aliens than I am of dying of the super-flu.
twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (John Barrowman)
Oh, the really cool thing is I had a dream I was at a John Barrowman concert. In the first row. He wore quite a bit of sparkly things - there was an Elvis jumpsuit in one act, and a purple sequined jacket in the next. And there was a comedy bit where he was shirtless.

And, since it was me, there were people planning the next show in the theatre during the intermission. They had layouts for the design of the stage amongst other things.

I think the best part was where I was coming down the aisle, and John ( and people carrying about half the flats for the stage ) rushed up the aisle. Mmm. Two feet away from John Barrowman and seanic design.

Basically it was the bastard child of his tour and a panto in a small, indoors, Hellenistic theatre with illusionist perspective.

I know it's all fake, but it still brings a smile to my face.
twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (London)
I had a dream I attempted to see [livejournal.com profile] beccaelizabeth. I say "attempted" because I woke up before I got there. Unsurprising as I was driving from Shrewsbury to Norwich. Neither of which is a long haul if I was going from Shrewsbury, Massachusetts to Norwich, Connecticut. Or if I was going from Shrewsbury, Shropshire to Norwich, Norfolk. The problem was that I was driving from Shrewsbury, Massachusetts to Norwich, Norfolk. Driving over the Atlantic Ocean takes time after all. First I drove to Portland, Maine, then across the ocean to the Isle of Portland in Dorset. And then on to Norwich.

Some people have absolutely no originality in names. = )
twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (Confused at the End of the Universe)
Was having an awesome dream about time travel, and a modern day guy who had been trapped in Medivel times put in cryogenic freezer and then riding in armour down an overpass in Boston with his aide behind him. It made sense in my dream!

Except I don't know what they were after, them and the Lex Luthor-y bad guy, nor why they only had until midnight to find whatever they were after, after they got Modern Knight guy out of the freezer.
twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (Jack and Estelle)
Oh, yeah. Today I had a dream that involved me running away from a shooter. Then I saw a squad car, and shouted out for an officer. Then the bastard got a call on the radio and raced off in the oppiste direction. I was WTFing, and then the lady ran up and shot me.

Still, it was less weird than the dream I had earlier about faeries. And then the Queen of the Fae notice me and I was so shocked/scared I woke up. Faeries is scarier than gun violence in my dreamworld, apparently.
twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (John Barrowman)
Dream of the Day: John Barrowman presenting American news dressed as Captain Jack. The last word was, "Oklahoma." So instead of saying "Oklahoma" he decided to sing the word and segued into a song from "Oklahoma."

Good way to start the day.
twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (Jack - No turning back)
I know someone who dreams like they're watching a movie, and who hasn't had a wikipedia dream? I sometimes dream in prose and blogs - which was good today, because I was able to get a bit down about Jack that was written in my dream.

"When he drifted off, his sleep was quite short, and twice as imaginative. For years afterward he wondered why he didn't hold out until later."

I can never figure out how that guy was able to write "Kubla Kahn," because two sentences is about my max.
twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (the dramas of a light tech)
Actors do not cooperate with techs even in dreams.

Though the giant Roc puppet we built, and the actors eventually helped operate, was awesome.
twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (What fresh hell is this?)
I just had the weirdest dream.

I was in a high school class - actually, I think it was my 7th grade English classroom but with random people in it and I think my second World History teacher - and we had to improve poems on the spot based on a random object and incorporate the previous random topics given out. Then, for the final topic, were random historical events. The first one was on Francis Scott Key, and the guy did the entire thing in Spanish, then I had to create a poem on the Constitution - and randomly decided that I could write a sonnet in three minutes on the subject.

I got only to the last quatrain, but my brain spat out when I was waking up:

"so Articles of Confederation that came out of the revolution
was abandoned in favor of our Constitution"

So I'm guessing the rest of the poem was also quite bad, and in no way was in iambic pentameter. = )
twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (Default)
Last night I had the oddest dream. At first it was like I was have a radio drama of a fanfic of the Producers in my head, but then it was in full color. For some reason, Max and Leo where in this store, and Max was talking to this dame, and then this guy comes in, and apparently wants to kill them for some reason. I'm thinking mob or somthing, since it was definately not Franz. Anyway, so he shoots Max, and hits him but not fataly, and Max hears the guy shoot Leo, and the dame goes off with the guy. So Max is mourning Leo's death, and out pops Leo from behind one of the shelves of medicine. Apparently - or at least the "how they do that?" portion of the dream - Leo saw the guy looking for him in the shoplifting mirrors, and positioned himself in such away where he looked like he was about a foot away from where he really was. And they both live. YAY!

I blame that the Producers is comming out tomorrow, since it was Lane and Brodirck as Max and Leo. I don't know who was playing the dame, but the guy just screamed Russian mob - slightly fat, and going grey with a mustache.

Mood: listless
twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (Default)
I think I just had the weridest dream ever.

I was watching television and flipping though the channels, and MST3K was on at 6:56 PM. They were in shadowrama, but then when they left the theater Tom got tangled up in some power lines that was in the moive, and later Crow was sitting on the train in the movie, still in shaowrama mode I might add, and singing. Then the movie cut to one of the gratuitous band sences, and Joel and the 'bots started dancing, in front asile in the SOL theater, but Cambot started panning back, and suddenly the frame showed the Muppets and the Sesseme Street charecters, and lots of other puppet charecters were dancing in the theater too, except they were in color and the MST3K charecters were still in shadowrama.

Then the movie ended, since all of that maddness took two minutes or so. I pushed the guide button on the remote, it was 6:58 PM, and saw that the movie was called "Educated Mice", and it was about television executives.

I was confused, so the movie started over at the begining.

Starts in a room, were a woman scientist is working on a cyborg, and conversing with her client. Then an extremly angry tv exexutive burts into the office ( the place that she was working in is part of a spacious and elegrant executive office). The guy voices his exposition, and brings up point about the cyborgs brain. The scientist says that she can fix whatever the problem is, and says that the cyborg is her "pretty boy." While she's doing whatever to his brain, she's all the while cooing to him about how he's uch a pretty boy and how he'll do her proud. Her client mentions the scintist's payment for her success, programming a show. She jumps on him, and the tv execututive leaves and says it's obvious how the scientist got the job: she's sleeping with her client.

Then I woke up.

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