The Omnivorous Geek

Sorry I was silent for so long and now just posting endless whining. Argh.

I feel like I didn't really sleep last night, more tranced like Elves in Tolkien (or D&D)--falling into a dream for awhile, waking up a little, dreaming again. It was weird and not terribly restful. My kitten kept me company all night, though, that was nice.

But I did have a nice, strange, rather extensive dream about Misha. o.O Like, we lived in the same neighborhood and he came over and we were friends. We wrote stories together. They weren't even fanfic. He was still a celebrity and I was still just an ordinary person, but it was a really lovely, sort of long and hilarious dream. We wrote really funny stories--funny to us, anyway--and laughed a lot. I was weirded out at first that he was interested in spending time with me, but I got over it fast. And we sent story notes to each other by email and snail mail.

I've never really had much interest in co-writing with someone. It seems like a lot of effort to coordinate when I can usually do it by myself, but if the relationship was like that... Yeah, it'd be awesome.

Thanks, Misha, for the nice dream in a mostly pain-filled night.

Also, my house in that dream was really nice.

Last night I dreamed that I was going to an appointment (to practice CPR, no less), and the person I was meeting with was dead. Just a dead body lying on the floor.

Does this have some kind of meaning I don't want to know about?

I am coughing up gray-green chunks of ugliness and I'm pretty sure I have a fever, and yet I am become a popsicle, because hellllooooooo, parents' basement, home once more. ::sigh:: I'm going to miss so many things about having my own place...the light from the third-floor windows, being able to take a shower whenever the heck I want (and incidentally also walking around naked if I VERY WELL CHOOSE, THANK YOU), setting my own thermostat, having my own fridge and cupboards, living like a pig in a pigsty, letting my rats run around on the floor (will NOT be happening here), having so many keys on my keychain, watching semi-naughty movies and TV shows with the volume turned ALL THE WAY UP sans worrying about my ten-year-old sis hearing, saying the word "crap" without guilt, and basically, you know, living in squalor. I am surrounded by boxes and I have no idea where anything is and I'm still feeling horribly weak and light-headed, so yay, body o' mine, continue to bring the love why don't you. I'd like to die now, plz.

Had some really weird fever dreams last night, too. I think, maybe, I was John Winchester? And I was fighting an evil sickness monster called a Lindle? And the only way I could defeat it was by kicking the covers off the bed every hour or so, then going to the bathroom to pee and drink another glass of water. So I did, and I guess I won, because when I woke up this morning I knew that I was Maychorian again. So that's good.

::raps knuckles against temple:: Let's have some GOOD dreams tonight, yes? Thank you.

I miss my apartment.

AH, okay, I think I can officially admit that I'm just as obsessed with Castiel now as I am with Sam and Dean, because yeah, dreaming about him. (Show Castiel, not the one in my current fic.) There was a plethora of lovely lines and images in my head, though unfortunately all have faded but one:

He seemed to walk under a different sky, a different sun and moon and stars, half a step removed from the ones we knew, and twice as beautiful.

Also, in the dream I was writing a Peter Pan musical, and Castiel was confused but supportive.

And now I feel ready to write.

Ugh, I have definitely been reading too much fanfic lately, because I totally had an angsty dream. It was Dean, walking along in some abandoned field somewhere, the sky gray and the grass brown, and there was something about nailing the final nails in his own coffin. It was really depressing and then I woke up.

Still, I feel that I should somehow get a fic out of that. Because Dean really did build his own coffin, and the final nail was refusing Ruby's help in 3.16, because he didn't want Sam to go down that road. And then Sam went down it anyway when he was gone, so good job, Dean, that totally worked for you.

Yeah, I also woke up feeling sick and nauseated. This is probably not unrelated.

For a long time I've had dreams that felt like stories, and often in the middle of them I'll be thinking, "This is an awesome story! As soon as I wake up I'm going to write it down, and it'll sell right away, because it's awesome, and I'll make some money. I love this dream!"

And then when I wake up I realize that the story in the dream actually made no sense whatsoever, and would make a terrible story. My dream self is a very bad judge of what is awesome and what is not.

Lately it's been a little weirder, though. At least twice I've dreamed in full-on musicals. The songs always sound incredible in the dream, and the words are so clear it's like I have a lyric sheet right in front of my face. Some of the songs are dramatic and sweeping, some are quick and fun, and I'm always impressed with my own imagination. Then I wake up and the melody has faded and I can't even remember the gist of the words and it's so, so disappointing.

(In the one before last there was this quick, funny song about Greek philosophers or something that started something like "Ari, Ari, Aristotoles was very fond of peas and he always ate his chicken with the manners of a sneeze," with the melody all bouncy and fun, and it was such an awesome song and now it makes no sense at all. And his name is Aristotle, brain. ARISTOTLE. Shut up. And that's the only song that I can remember even a tiny bit. Sigh.)

The one I had last night, of course, had elements from the different sorts of things I've been watching and reading lately. It had something to do with terrorists, I think, and there was a lot of blood smears on a wooden floor, like just about every Supernatural episode ever, and there was a really long scene in a suburban backyard that was a lot like the one in "The Kids are Alright," the Supernatural episode I watched last night. There was also a band of mercenaries who were actually good guys, and the leader looked a lot like Solid Snake from the video games. They were to blame for a lot of the gore, I think, killing bad guys.

And the protagonist of the story was a chubby teenage girl, a lot like me when I was younger (I'm still chubby, but no longer teenage), only it wasn't me, of course. In the story of the dream she was kidnapped by the mercenaries and ending up liking them and being on their side because they were killing something evil (aliens? ghosts? This part has escaped me), and when she eventually got back home she told everyone that they were really the good guys, but no one believed her. And she also ended up having a lot of PTSD, which was only natural.

And then she had a love interest! And he was really sweet and kind and trying to help her, like every hurt/comfort fic I've ever loved, except that I usually shun romance, because I just don't like it very much. Gen for me, all the way. This is maybe the second time in my life that there's been a romantic subplot in my dream-stories. But it's probably because I was wondering last night, as I sometimes do, if I'll ever find someone for me, and if I do, what will he be like, and that sort of thing. Apparently my future beau needs to be really sweet and kind and help me with my PTSD.

In the dream I remember thinking, "Oh, a chubby girl protagonist in a musical about mercenaries and blood and death and PTSD! This is awesome! I can't wait to write this when I wake up! And the songs are great!" Also, the girl had a computer file with all of my songs from the first musical dream I'd had saved on hard drive, and that also made me really happy, because YAY I FOUND IT I'LL NEVER LOSE IT AGAIN. (This happens occasionally, where in a dream I find something that I made in another dream, like a book or a poem or a website.)

And then I woke up and realized, "That was lame." And all of the songs were gone.

And now I'm disappointed again, because those were some great songs, and now I can't remember them.