That footprints thing is nice sometimes, but it has a few unfortunate downsides. All those people who I’ve left comments for, well, I go back the next day to see if they’ve responded (most of them don’t, but oh well), and now I’m noticing that they seem to be checking their footprints and being like “wtf? Why is this person coming back to my posts?”, because then I’ll have between one and five hits from that person linking to my page via the comment that they didn’t respond to…
I’m just trying to make conversation, xanganites. Nothing to get worried about.
Anyway, about that Viking dream…
With as often as I’ve talked about vampires and vampyres on this blog (yeah, they’re different things), and as often as I’ve read stories where they figure in as characters (I hate Twilight, for the record), or listened to songs that they’ve somehow crept into…and as often as I’ve dressed up as one, myself…I’ve never really dreamt about a vampire.
True, I had a dream on my 21st birthday that, although it was vivid enough to startle me and wake me up, I don’t remember much of anything about it. All I know is that vampires were kidnapping me and although I like them, I doubt they liked me very much. The dream would probably not have ended nicely if I’d stayed asleep and finished it.
But that’s all well and past, and now I’ve gone and actually had a dream where I was a vampire. Yep. About now, I’m feeling preeeetty pathetic, admitting that.But even if I feel like it’s pathetic, it’s not altogether surprising, considering the kinds of dreams I’ve had over the past year or so…
* Recurring dreams about a rotting blonde girl in a blue dress. She seems mad at me because I couldn’t save her from whatever killed her, and now she sets half spider, half frog creatures on me in the shower, or shows up in a room to rot quietly at me.
* Dodging death by crucifixion in the old Catholic church I used to go to, and watching a high school acquaintance be crucified by a bunch of elderly, bearded bishops instead. (I’m not Catholic now, btw).
* A zombie Marilyn Manson is chasing me through tunnels and trying to have me crucified as campus entertainment at my former university. (I seem to dream about being crucified rather a lot…)
* Working with Marilyn Manson on a paranormal investigation team. (I don’t know why he pops into my dreams when I’m really not a very big fan of his.)
* God appearing to me as a black draft horse and telling me to join a coven of witches so that I could keep an eye on what they were doing. Eventually they start a zombie apocalypse and, since I somehow have access to the tree of life, I use it to heal the zombies and stop the witches.
* Me telling a random girl that I’m a specific type of witch so that she’ll like me better.
Since my typical dreams seem to include hostile zombies, becoming a witch, and trying to not be crucified, it’s a little bit different for me to dream about being a vampire. And here is where I cut to my dream sequence:
I started my dream in this fancy Italian-styled restaurant, and I was really excited about the evening. I was all dressed up in this red and black Renaissance dress that I have, and on my way to the sink so I could wash up (ho-hum, here is where I admit that I’m a germophobe in real-life) in order to start preparing the meal.
I don’t know why, but for some reason, my party was going to learn to cook the food we were going to eat.
Anyway, we weren’t washing in a bathroom or kitchen…we had to wash in this blue ceramic sink (looked more like a bowl with sink attachments…you know?) in a moodily lit, goldenrod coloured hallway. As I walked toward said sink, I passed this blonde woman in a blue dress. I was almost afraid that she was the same person as the blonde zombie girl in a blue dress, but she wasn’t. This woman had darker, less flyaway hair, and her dress looked like a Renaissance style instead of something from Little House on The Prairie.
So I washed up, but when I looked up in the mirror—I had no reflection.
I don’t know why, since I don’t hold with the idea of a vampire having no reflection. Mostly because that particular bit of folklore came from people saying a vampire had no soul…and I know there’s no point in quibbling about something that isn’t real, but if I were a vampire, I’d still like to think that I’d got a soul, thanks very much!
But my dream self had no reflection, and somehow that’s how I knew I was a vampire. Ah well.
After washing, I went out to do the cooking portion of the evening, and although I must have done it, my brain skipped over that part to the part where we were sitting at dinner. I don’t know why I was even there, since I was a vampire and didn’t need to eat food…but apparently I missed it or something, so I was picking at the little pinkish beans and green, leafy things on my plate (I seem to recall the presence of some sort of meat on my plate, but I don’t remember what it was).
One of my younger sisters was sitting beside me, wearing a black dress and pretending to eat her food as well, and I knew she was a vampire too, but I wasn’t really paying attention to her. Instead, I was talking to this guy sitting across from me. He looked really grumpy, and if you picture the guy who played Boromir in the Lord of the Rings movies, only a little bulkier and with hair that’s slightly darker and grayer, that’s what he looked like. He wasn’t wearing the Boromir costume though…instead, he had on black and charcoal Viking armor and a big black fur cloak.
We were arguing about the beans.
Mr. Viking told me that I hadn’t cooked them long enough for the meal to turn out properly. I told him that they seemed fine to me, but he wouldn’t have any of that. He said they only seemed that way because I was undead and wasn’t really eating them anyway, and I got all indignant and asked him how he thought they should have been done. Sooo…he got out his dagger and scooped up a bunch of my food, then held it over one of those nice tapered candles on the table.
Stupid Viking lit the leafy greens and beans on fire and burnt them to a crisp. Then he flung the blob of charred food onto the white tablecloth. Didn’t say anything else, but he glared stonily across the table at me, having more or less made his point. Plus, my dream self was a little uneasy because I thought he was probably not that particular about food and that he was really referring to what he thought should be done with vampires, not with veggies and little pink beans.
Skipping ahead, Stacy and I were using makeup to colour in a life-sized picture of a half-autopsied corpse. Yep. Fun times and sisterly bonding.
I was getting really frustrated though, because she had marked out some of the colours she wanted to use on the picture, but when I looked at the mark on the picture, and then at the eye shadow palette, I couldn’t figure out which colour was which. Very frustrating. And for some reason, I couldn’t look at both the picture and the palette at the same time, like hold them next to each other, you know? Nope. I had to look from one to the other, and in between I would forget what colour I was trying to match…I hated it. But it was important that we finish the picture because for some reason it was going to help us not get killed by the Vikings.
No idea why or anything.
I think that at some point, I left my sister working on the picture, and went to find us some armor. It was really stupid though…because I had this notion that we had to hide the armour because we were pretending to get along with the Vikings…so I found these fish-mail corsets that my sister and I could wear under our dresses. They were pretty uncomfy, but I figured it was better than being…er…dead-dead, as opposed to un-dead.
I also found these necklaces that were kind of cool. Each one had these big silver pendants, and inside one was a vial of purple poison. I gave that one to my sister to use, and I kept the other one, which was really a sheath for a little silver knife.
So we were heading downstairs to wherever the Vikings were, and everything was kind of cool, as far as my dreams go…until I put on the wings.
I put on a pair of big red and black pixie wings before going downstairs, and that kind of ruined everything with regards to me being a vampire. I don’t know what possessed my dream self to do that…but…what can one do?
Hopefully you’ll still think I’m awesome, even knowing I dream all this nonsense.
Chris: *saying something annoying*
Reeser: And so more meaningless words fall from Chris’s mouth, like broken teeth…
Chris: *exasperated* I know you wanna kick me in the face, but I do not have broken teeth falling out of my mouth.
Reeser: I didn’t say the teeth were falling from your mouth. I said that meaningless words were falling like broken teeth.
Chris: Oh. Like broken teeth. How poetic.
Reeser: It was a simile.
Reeser: You just don’t appreciate my poetry.