Weird dreams

I don't know if it's my latest batch of peanut butter cookies or reading Alice in Wonderland before bed, but I've been having strange dreams this week. Last night I had a dream that I went back to the states to visit from Australia, and the people I visited were random semi-friends that I wouldn't dream of meeting up with if I were to go for a visit. So I started out there and then ended up back at good ol' West Valley high school playing basketball. A ball must have ricocheted off the side of my head (though I didn't feel it and thought I was just fine) because the coach came over to me with a look that said "something is wrong with your face!" I felt the side of my face, and it felt completely normal, no heat, no puffiness. Then I looked into a mirror and found the right side of my face had started blowing up into some kind of an allergic reaction. I cupped my face so no one could see the atrocity that lay underneath and ran off to the nurse's office. I got to the nurse's office and the doctor sitting inside was the Knicks' doctor from Sex and the City. He was meeting with businessy Asian woman and they cut off conversation when I threw the door open crying about my rapidly growing face. He snapped on his rubber gloves, grabbed his med kit, and then told me I would need to come with them in the taxi. As often happens in dreams, I didn't question it and I went. The three of us sat in the taxi, doctor-man in the front seat with the other lady and myself sitting in the back. The neighborhood went from normal to sketchy over a lengthy cab ride that seemed to be never-ending, and I kept asking when he was going to look at my face to figure out what was wrong (I thought my face was going to grow to exploding proportions). He kept evading my questioning and was talking about his "boys" that were just around the corner. At that point, I hopped out of the taxi and ran away knowing that some danger would come if I stayed in the cab any longer. I ran a short way and recognized that I wasn't, in fact, far from the school but I was still driving distance away. I put out my thumb and after a few cars driving by, one pulled over with a man and a woman. The man jovially got out of the car and put his arms around me. I knew he was evil, so I started trying to push him away but he only held tighter and got an evil gleam in his eye. I told him that if he didn't let go, I was going to kick him in the nuts, so he held me at arm's length, though gripping tight, and dodged my flailing foot that was doing everything it could to kick him. That's when I woke up, and it was one of those times when you can't quite get over the fright from your dream and my body was still wracked with fear. I threw myself on Marcus and he rolled over and held me until the morning. I love that now when I have scary dreams, Marcus is there to hold me until I fall back to sleep.

The night before that, I also had two strange dreams. One involved Brad Pitt and I know I was excited that I would get to talk to him...then I woke up. Damn. In the other dream, I was in Liberia or Syria or some unknown country that was in the middle of a civil war. At the beginning of my dream, I wasn't actually there, I was just watching the fighting in a perfectly dream-like manner. But then I materialized and was there (apparently I was visiting some friends) and witnessing the fighting in person. One side of the war was up in the upper stories of a building shooting down on the city below, while the other side contained a thinner line of fighters shooting up. I met a few Americans while there. A lot of Americans, in fact. They were all there working because they earned so much there there (even though part of my brain knew that they shouldn't be earning so much because it was a very poor country). They said even though there was a war, they just couldn't turn away from the money. I found my friends and they took me to the compound where they were living, men on one side and women on the other in order to respect the local culture. The next day we went to see some of the fighting and I noticed that a lot of the fighters were in business suits--they were the Americans, fighting the war with their guns then trading with another fighter and proceeding to work. After watching for about 15 seconds, I'd had enough and started walking away, and then my friend ran racing past me screaming, "The radicals are coming, the radicals are coming!" At which point I knew that there had been a turning point in the war. I ran with her back to the compound and while she flopped onto the floor feigning death, I hid in a broom closet. The broom closet turned into a little nook on a bus in between seats, and in some seats ahead of me sat my friends. The war had turned dangerous (because in the beginning wars aren't that dangerous...hmm...) and it was time for them to go home. The bus trip was strained as none of us knew if we'd get pulled over by guerillas or if gunshots would come ripping through the windows. We arrived at a building where we were greeted by a man. He shook hands with each person as they got off the bus, then after shaking their hand he would either nod or shake his head, indicating whether or not they could continue on their way out of the country. All three of my friends got off the bus and received negatory shakes of the head. I got off the bus (I wasn't even supposed to be there in the first place) and got a nod. I was torn, not knowing what to do and then I woke up. And I nuzzled into my safe place. It's amazing how much a dream can shake you, though. I can never really figure out what my dreams mean because it's all so real to me that the symbolism eludes me. Then there are other dreams that are so whacked out that no meaning should be put on them.

On another note, I have some more commercials that crack me up to post. It must seem like I watch TV all the time, but I'm fairly certain I don't. It's just that Australian advertising amuses and surprises me. There are fewer restrictions on the media and there's much less formality than there is in the states. Kevin Rudd, the president, let the term "shit storm" out in some kind of interview a few months back. When the president says "shit" on television, you never know what you'll find. But generally it's not so much the risque ads that get me, but there are some really clever ones. My two favorites at the moment are at:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5oR4ID6IzVo

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TVblWq3tDwY

For some reason I can't embed right now...boo.

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