Friday, October 12, 2012

Belated Birthday Post

Hello there!

It's been a while since I posted, but I'm back! And I'm back with some lovely pictures!

It was my birthday on September 24th - I'm 24 years old now! Yay! It was a little sad because I'm away from my family and friends so I didn't really do anything. But Katherine, the Assistant House Steward that I live with here at Greenway in England took me out for dinner (which ended up being take away 'cause the restaraunt was closed) and we watched a movie back at the house. It was a nice relaxing time. I also spent the morning doing conservation at a castle so that was pretty damn cool.

Instead of a cake this year we made cupcakes. And not just any cupcakes. Cookie Monster Cupcakes!


This is what they were supposed to look like


Cupcakes fresh out the oven and beginning to make the frosting


The add-ons!


The first Cookie Monster!!


Army of Cookie Monster cupcakes!
 Wow these cupcakes were soooo sugary! I think that if I were to make them again I would try a different style of frosting. This was just water, blue food dye and icing sugar. Looots of icing sugar...

Even though we didn't do much for my actual birthday, the two days before I went to the Looe Music Festival in Looe, Cornwall. And of course, it rained the whole time.





But I was able to take some time out of my busy schedule to act as magistrate in a medieval jail. You'll notice the Cookie Monster shirt... it was a themed weekend.




Waiting for the concert to start on the beach was a very wet affair.


The Tall Man. My mortal enemy. He tricked me into taking my spot at the concert by saying "Excuse me" and acting like he was trying to move through the crowd. I got him back by rubbing my wet pants all over him. I dried off quite nicely. He couldn't really do anything about it because we were packed in so tight. I was dancing. It's not my fault he was standing to close to me. Suck it!


Ah yes...sunny Cornwall...


Thursday, August 23, 2012

The Problem with Traveling...

I've traveled back and forth between Canada and California for several years (by car, U -Haul and plane). I've traveled to Scotland to live for a year studying abroad and whilst I called St Andrews my abode I journeyed  into England and across Ireland. I've visited Texas, Oregon, Tennessee, and New Mexico. And most of this traveling I've done on my own so I've learned some of the ins and outs of how to be a good traveler (I don't profess to be an expert, but I'm not useless). I've been stranded at train stations, stuck in traffic jams, gotten on the wrong bus and I've missed connecting flights. I'd like to think I'm prepared for every type of situation and have the emotional stability to handle being out on my own in the big wide world.

But can I pack my suitcase appropriately? No.

Apparently when it comes to packing I am no longer a 23 year old woman with two degrees and the emotional fortitude gained from years of living with a crazy family. No. When it comes to packing I am a 4 year old who must have everything she sets her eyes on. And woe to anyone who gets in the way of that. Mine! It's all mine I say!

My friends have tried to help me, asking me to justify each piece of clothing that goes into my suitcase (right down to underwear and socks), but something I've learned over the past few trips - I can justify anything that goes in that suitcase. And I mean everything. For example: I flew from Toronto, Canada to Santa Ana, California in May to spend the summer with my Dad and Step-Family while I earned some money to support myself in my upcoming internship. What made it into my suitcase? More clothes then I really needed, maracas and panpipes, books that I haven't read yet (even though I spent the whole month of May and half of June unemployed), and tons of papers that I can't even remember why they made the cut. Not to mention all the DVDs (which I also haven't watched), pictures in frames, jewelry and electronics.

To be fair I was packing for the summer in California and the winter in England. Two vastly different temperatures. So the sweaters that I packed did have a real justification. But now that I'm 8 days out from flying to my internship in England I find myself, again, stuck in the same dilemma. The problem is that I like clothes too much. I have too have different outfits with removable parts (cardigans and leggings and such) so I can always feel different - fresh and new every day. Now, this being said, I do not spend lots of money on these clothes. There is a lovely thrift shop near my house where items range in price from $1.90 to a whopping $5. I'm such a big spender... So in the next couple of days I will either be lamenting the clothes that must be left behind or figuring out ways to travel via plane, subway, and train to my internship with a 50lb check-in bag, a 15lb carry-on and a bulging purse.

Should anyone have any suggestions on how to cut myself off emotionally from my things, I am all ears. Well, not all of my things... just some of them.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

The Arboretum in Arcadia, California


The first thing you will notice when you visit the Arboretum are the peacocks. You wont see them (though if you’re lucky you might run into one of them attacking their reflection in the bumper of someone’s expensive car), but you will hear them.  

Their unique calls to one another fill the air, making you feel as if you are about to walk into some strange land.  And really, it is a strange land. No other place will you walk along a desert garden path, lined with cacti and strange sculptures, to find yourself in a bamboo forest; and emerging from this forest you find a palm tree lined lake, filled with fish, frogs and many more ducks than you can count.

My mom used to take me this place as a kid. We would spend hot, lazy Sunday afternoons sitting by the enormous fountain eating our homemade sandwiches and sipping on ice-cold lemonade we bought from the cafĂ©. It has been many years since I’ve been back (life just seems to get in the way of things sometimes), but this time I went with two of my best friends. Even as a kid there was always something new to explore, but now, as an adult? Well, it was amazing…

We spent the day remembering what it was like to be a kid and have fun. We let our imaginations run wild! We ran through the bamboo forest imagining we were on an epic journey; we climbed to the top of a waterfall and proclaimed that we had discovered this land in the name of… well… we didn’t quite know, so in the end we claimed it in the name of ourselves: This was now Haleigh-Becky-Gary-Land, and woe to those who would say otherwise!

The grounds are not so large that you can’t get through them in a couple of hours, but it’s also big enough, with enough winding pathways, that we rarely ran into other people who could destroy the fantasy of a new world we had created. One important lesson I did learn that day, though, was that if one is going to sing Disney songs (badly) while in the bathroom – maybe one should not sing quite so loud, or one should entirely own the fact that one’s singing abilities will never win one the coveted American Idol role. Apparently Becky and myself amused several passers by with our rendition of Mulan’s “I’ll Make a Man Out of You” – But Gary was not amused.

There are two historic homes on the property, along with a magnificent barn. There is an adobe house built in the mid 1800s, which is unfortunately in very bad repair. As a historian and a museum studies student, it was difficult to see – but everyone in the heritage business knows there is never enough money to go around. The Queen Anne’s Cottage, built later in 1885, however, seems from the outside to be the picture of conservation. This house was a party house. Literally. It was built with the express purpose of being used to host parties – there isn’t a kitchen or bedroom in the place. If you look in the windows (for you’re not allowed to enter the premises) you will see rooms decorated as if this were a fully functioning house, but it’s only for show.

The barn is just as grand as the cottage. It is two stories and painted white with red trim to match. There are two large rooms to house carriages and two small wings where the horses’ stables are located.

Even the doghouse is grand…







Sadly, the exhibit panels in the barn are, like the adobe house, in desperate need of repair. If you wish to learn about the history of film at the arboretum you can, but only partially – several of the text panels have peeled away from their supporting board and have curled onto each other. The Plexiglas cases may have once fitted nicely together, but I suppose with age and exposure to the elements, it has warped and gaps have appeared. Dust and dirt has fallen through those cracks and now lines the old velvet lining of the shelves. 


So there are a few things that could use some good ol’ spit shine (please don’t be literal and spit on the artefacts…) but I’d say the good far and away outways the bad at this place. Especially at the price you pay. It’s less than $10 to spend the day enjoying the antics of fat little squirrels and watching people set up what looks to be a beautiful wedding ceremony in a rose garden and finding hidden bush sculptures.

Thumbs way way up to the Los Angeles Arboretum! 

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Travel Bucket List

A friend of mine (Brandy) and I are going to be spending about two weeks traveling in the UK in December and into January, so I've been going through travel books at the library and googling things like "castle + UK" and "UK + free". I already knew, but it's really hit home now, that there was no way we were going to see and do all things I want - especially because as a friend I have to let her have some input on the itinerary. *sigh* Oh the hardships I must deal with ;)

So since I have discovered there are so many places I would like to go I decided to create a bucket list of travel - a list of places I want to see before my demise. It's a work in progress and I plan on adding to it in more detail as the years progress and I am financially stable enough to take vacations/holidays, but so far I've come up with a smattering of places in the UK.



  • ALNWICK (Northumberland)
    • Castle and gardens, lived in by the Percy family since it's founding in the 1700s (?)
    • Saturday markets
  • BARNARD CASTLE (Co Durham)
    • Bowes Museum (established in 1869)
    • Castle ruins
    • Market Cross (built in 1747)
  • BEVERLY (Yorkshire)
    • Walking tours
    • St Mary's cathedral features architecture from the 12th century to the Reformation
    • Wednesday markets
  • BUXTON (Derbyshire)
    • Roman spa town
    • Perrier water own the water plant
    • Gardens (pavilion)
    • Edwardian opera house
    • Water can still be drawn from an old fountain in town 
  • CHIPPING CAMPDEN (Gloucestershire)
    • Market hall
    • Alms houses
    • Inns with hanging signs
    • 14th - 17th century honey colored cotswold stone
  • LUDLOW (Shropshire)
    • One of the only walled towns
    • Castle
    • St Lawrence's Church
    • Medieval street plan with Georgian facades
  • GLASTONBURY (Somerset)
    • Abbey
    • Jesus' undocumented trip to England ;)
    • Earliest English monastic centre
    • Graves of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere found here?
    • Glastonbury Festival
    • New Age flair
  • CORNWALL COAST
  • HADRIAN'S WALL
    • I've actually been to one spot on the wall but I would love to explore around it more
  • BATH
    • Roman Spa and museum
  • LONDON
    • Buckingham Palace
      • Changing of the Guards
    • Tower of London and Beefeaters
      • Key Ceremony
    • London Walking Tour
    • British Museum
      • Enlightenment Gallery
      • Assyrian Lion Hunt from Nineveh
      • Clocks and Watches Gallery
      • East Stairs
    • Shakespeare's Globe
    • Greenwich (boat needed)
    • Houses of Parliament and Big Ben
  • STONE HENGE
  • OXFORD
  • THE COTSWOLDS
  • CAMBRIDGE
  • STRATFORD-UPON-AVON
  • CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL
  • YORK
  • CHALK FIGURES
    • Dorset and Wiltshire
    • Uffington White Horse (Bronze Age)
    • Cewne Abbas Giant (17th c.)
  • EDINBURGH
    • Royal Mile
    • Edinburgh Castle
    • Mary King's Close
  • GLASGOW
  • CARDIFF
  • BEN NEVIS
  • LOCH NESS
  • GLEN CO
    • Hiking trip 
  • WINDSOR CASTLE
  • WARWICK CASTLE
  • STIRLING CASTLE
  • CAERNARFON CASTLE
  • CONWY CASTLE
  • LAKE DISTRICT
  • SNOWDONIA
  • THE TROSSACHS
  • YORKSIRE DALES
  • YORK MINSTER
  • DUBLIN
  • KYTLER INN (Kilkenny)
    • Descended from Alice Kytler the witch
Sheesh.... this is going to take a while...

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Job Front

So I know that the job market is pretty dismal right now, especially in California - at least this is what I keep hearing. But silly me, I thought I'd get a job much faster than I did. I started looking in early May and now that is is early June, I have one part-time position which I just received yesterday. Yep, starting next week I will be working the evening shift three days a week at a hostel in Fullerton. I'm really looking forward to it - I can't wait to meet interesting people from around the world (do people from ALL around the world stay in Fullerton? I guess they must since the place is doing well and it is only six miles from Disneyland, and lots of people show up for that...).

The only thing I'm not looking forward to is the prospect of having to kick out homeless people. Apparently that is a problem for hostels - people treating it like it's a shelter. I'm not so good at the confrontation, so hopefully these instances will be few and far between for me.

Before I got this job I went on a few interviews (Knotts Berry Farm included) and I even signed up with two employment agencies. But the issues I've found is that I'm overeducated or overqualified in some way. At Knotts everyone was all friendship and smiles until I let it slip that I had an undergraduate degree already and was working on a post-grad degree. And even that would have been fine I think, except I also had goals. After they heard that you would swear I had the plague the way they avoided me and looked down their noses at me. Now it could be in my imagination - I will give you that. I have a tendency to overreact. But there was a definite shift in attitude towards me. In the end it appeared that they would rather have the solemn guy with two weeks of warehouse experience taking photos of people as they walked into the park instead of me, the person with seven years customer service experience and who has worked at tourist attractions before. But fine. Whatever.

I also ended up at a few interviews who misrepresented the job on their add and over the phone. I decided that I would pretty much do anything this summer (wear house, picking, administration, receptionist, call centre, server, janitor, maid, whatever) but I refuse to be a telemarketer. I've already done the cold calling and dealt with the angry people whose personal space I just invaded. I don't need to repeat that. I don't have a problem upselling things over the phone - I just want to be the one who is called, not doing the calling, that way I know the person is really interested and I haven't just ruined their day. And I know those call centers exist because I have called them after seeing an infomercial at one o'clock in the morning because of my acute desire to have the Magic Bullet or the bamboo Spanx. So a few places that I interviewed at (and got the job but I had to turn it down) didn't let me know there was cold calling involved until I got to the interview - even though we discussed what I would be doing over the phone. It was a bit disheartening.

But finally getting this hostel desk clerk job has been a real boost. I'm excited to get started and earn some money!

Why do I need money you ask? Well, other than the regular reasons of bills and basic living expenses, I am planning on doing some United Kingdom based traveling come December, so I need me some mula! There will be more to come on the traveling plans. Oh I have so many ideas all jumping around in my head. I need to sit down and figure them all out.

So if anyone is reading this, the lesson I feel I've learned this past week is that you can't be too cocky. I'm really proud of my education and my work experience, but I was a little too sure of myself. This past month of doing nothing and watching what little money I had saved flow through the gas tank of the family van has been an eye opener. The saying also goes: "Keep calm, carry on." And it really does ring true. There is always going to be stress, but deep breaths and reminding yourself of the good things in your life really does help calm you down. And carrying on and not giving up does wonders for you self-esteem when you finally get what you've been searching for.


Friday, June 1, 2012

Lil' Brother's 8th grade pre-graduation board meeting thing

So today I joined my Step-Mom for a pre- 8th grade graduation presentation/lunch/board meeting thing for my brother. We were treated to a lovely cello performance by one of the students and a rendition of some religious "The Lord is King" type song by a group of girls. The entire time the girls were singing the words of Eddie Izzard kept running through my head:

"There is something phenomenally dreary about Christian singing...all those Christians religions [other than Gospel singers] (which is mainly Caucasian white people) with all the power and money - enough power and money to make Solomon blush ... they are the only group that can sing Hallelujah without making it sound like a Hallelujah."  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kuEuY4BUMfM

After that we got to watch all the parents whose 8th graders were their last kid in the school and would be leaving stand up and express their fondest memories of the place. So that was about 45 minutes of listening to people I'd never met before, knew nothing about, and would never see again. The parents put in PIP (dunno what it stands for but I'm guessing the p's are 'parents' and 'participation') hours - at least 20 per year. This involves going on school field trips, volunteering to cut out papers, sell ice cream every Friday outside the school - all sorts of helpful stuff. So I guess these parents (80% moms) spend a lot more time at the school then my mom and dad ever did - I went to public school - so in a way they feel like they are graduating too, I guess.

I should point out that my brother goes to a private Lutheran school. And I'm not sure how I feel about that. I definitely don't think that private religious schools shouldn't be around and everyone has a right to their beliefs and as far as I can I try to respect that. But if these are the people who are teaching my brother to be homophobic, then I'm not too keen on them. Last night I heard him say: "I'm kind of okay with gay people, but I don't think I'm okay with them getting married." This is the kid who uses the word 'gay' to describe everything from a situation to a colour. Last week he and his cousin kept yelling about the colour yellow being gay. I asked how a colour to could have a sexual orientation. One minute of silence later I got: "'Cause it can." Very clever boys. Very clever.

Now, my brother didn't use to be like this. To be fair I've been living in a different country than him for six years and have only seen him sparingly on summer visits, but I'm pretty sure this attitude began around the time he started going to this school. My other sister who goes to public school doesn't have any such notions. So private religious institution, I think I may have to blame you.

So now I have to decide how to handle this. Do I be the overbearing older sister who calls him out on his idiocy every time he brings it up? Or do I be the quite reserved one who tries to 'respect' his opinions and all that rot while subtly giving him things to think about like civil liberties and basic human decency? Hmmm... Lots to think about. All I know is that I love my family, but I wont be around bigatry and hate. It's not worth my time when there are so many other amazing people in the world that I can spend my life with.

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Friendship

You know what I like about friends? And I don't mean those people you kind of know and when someone asks you who you were just talking to you, you shrug and say in a non committal way: "They're just a friend." I mean the kind of friends who if you're dumped spend the weekend making voodoo dolls of your ex with you; the kind of friends who spend the night with you because you saw a scary movie and now you're afraid of the dark; friends who if you were kidnapped would form a posse, complete with their own theme music, and take on every bad guy in the world to save you. You know what I like about those kinds of friends?

They are awesome.

The dictionary defines the word awesome as a word describing something that inspires awe. Which in turn means "an overwhelming feeling of reverence, admiration, fear, etc., produced by that which is so grand, sublime, extremely powerful, or the like." Well that describes my friends to a T.

Sometimes, like today, I sit and think about everything that is wrong in my life: I'm too fat, I'm too loud, I have no follow through, my family is certifiable, my computer keeps breaking down - and then as if they can sense my spiralling emotions I seem to receive a mental slap upside the head followed by the unamused voices of my friends, demanding to know what the hell my problem is. Yeah, things suck sometimes but I live in a beautiful house, there is always food on the table or in the fridge (even if I don't like it - mushrooms = yuck!), I've been fortunate enough to study what I want in university and pursue my career goals, and yes, my family may have their issues and probably need a visit from Dr. Phil, but we love each other and take care of each other.

I remind the voices in my head that I am human and deserve to bitch and moan from time to time - after all, venting is very cathartic. But the great thing about my friends, whether I'm with them physically or their voices are just in my mind, is that they will have none of my nonsense. They will stalk stand-up comedians in Montreal and Glasgow or actors in Portland and Vancouver with me, they will take ridiculous photo shoots outside Medieval Times and have "Murder, She Wrote" weekend marathons with me, but they will not stand for my nonsense.

I must have been born under a lucky star to have these amazing friends. If I never amount to anything in this world, I wont care (well, I wont care too much) because I know that in the eyes of my friends I am fantastic and they in return are awe inspiring in mine.

I love you guys with all my heart!

XXXOOO

Do not save your loving speeches
For your friends till they are dead;
Do not write them on their tombstones,
Speak them rather now instead.
- Anna Cummins

Monday, May 21, 2012

Best Date Ever

The first thing you need to know about the Southern California Renaissance Pleasure Faire if you've never been, is that it is one of the only places/times (other than Halloween) where you can generally slut it up and you aren't judged. In fact your short skirts, bare midriffs and bulging breasts are extolled and worshiped. Men also join in the semi-clothed fun - they bare their chests and sport shorter than average kilts.

The other great thing about the Ren Faire is that it is a place where curvy girls get to be princesses, buxom wenches and bonnie barbarians.

The event comes around once a year every Saturday and Sunday from about mid-April to mid-May and I had already been once on the 5th of May, but I was asked out by guy and we decided to go on a group date to the Ren Faire. So I brought two of my best friends in the whole world, Gary and Becky and was ready to meet Andrew and have a great time.

Well to make a long story short he never showed and I haven't heard from him - clearly he is not a keeper. But rather than let that get me down I did all the things you can't do on a first date.

Firstly Becky and I shared a massive box of fresh cut cheesy curly fries in a most unladylike manner. 




Secondly, we flirted with Barbarians


Thirdly we succumbed to the charms of the Palace Guards




And were rewarded with a rose at the end of our courtship. 


Lastly, we feasted!!





Now to the serious part of the blog. It's hard not to feel down on yourself when you're stood up for a date. You start asking questions like "Why doesn't he want to go out with me?" "Was it something I said?" and you start questioning your looks and personality. It is just a downward spiral of sadness and self-deprication. Luckily I had two amazing friends who kept me busy and entertained so I really didn't have any time to think about these things. 

But inevitably you have to leave your friends and go home, and it is there while you lie in bed that those thoughts come pushing their way in. But the more I thought about it, the more I think that I'm actually glad he didn't show up. If this is any indication of his personality then he is clearly not someone I want to invest any time or effort into. Plus from our limited conversations, I think he might have been a bit of a racist and I'm not playing that game. 

So now I'm back at square one in the dating game. But I wont let it get me down - it's not so bad at square one. I'm armed with experience, a fierce determination and a list of deal breakers a mile long (I should probably work on those - but that is a blog for another time!)




Saturday, April 7, 2012

Absolute proof that television affects your dreams

Well, last night's dream was a doozy. It's not that I haven't had any since the last time I posted, but they have all been fragmented and I don't remember much of them. This one I think was too weird to forget. 

  (http://veryveryfun.com/content/view/97/30/)
This dream began with myself and three friends working on an archaeological dig in a dank cavern. (This image is a close approximation of what my subconscious mind created - though mine was much darker). Our 19th century lantern sat on the largest boulder, casting a yellowish glow on green and black mould and moss that covered nearly every inch of the cavern. One of my companions screamed, startling the rest of us. Concerned, we rushed to her. With a quivering finger she pointed to a long banana yellow snake, as it swam lazily through the water. As a snake lover, I wanted us to leave the snake alone, but my friends convinced me that this snake was the carrier of a deadly disease and needed to be destroyed. 

(http://www.yusrablog.com/photography/50-outstanding-
examples-of-snake-photography/) 
Thinking that I was saving the human race, I tried to behead the snake, but I had nothing with me to do the job. Rifling through my pockets I found a plastic knife. Hesitantly I made an incision in the snake's neck. It was only a small flesh wound that simply aggravated the snake, but I still felt horrible. It was then I learned from my friends that they had been wrong, and the snake shouldn't be killed. Well, at that point it was too late. The snake began to segment itself into five ballooned, sausage like portions. The snake's head snapped off, attaching to the knife I held in my hand. I tried to flick it off, but it slid down closer and closer to my hand. In one last attempt to be rid of the thing I threw the knife into the water which had begun to whirl around in the middle as if a plug had been pulled from the drain. 

"We have to get out of here!" I yelled. 

But it was too late. The snake had indeed been infected with a deadly disease and to spite us for attacking it, the snake had released its toxins into the water which had drained into the main water supply system for the entire human race. 

http://www.corkscrewsonline.com/corkscrew_
collection_for_sale_figurals1.html
Within days the entire world had been over run with the disease. The dead began to rise and feed on the living. And those that were bit became infected and turned on their friends and families, devouring them. Somehow I found myself back in the cavern along with a handful of survivors. It appeared as if we had attempted to build a sort of fort in the cavern, keeping as many of the zombies at bay as we could. I found myself defending our home and our lives, with the only tool available to me - an old ice pick (I shall leave it up to your imaginations as to what I did with the ice pick to kill the zombies. I'm sure we've all seen enough zombie movies to know what to do with them.)

Suddenly I was no loner in the cavern fighting off the zombies, but in the back yard of a suburban home.  In the back of my mind I knew that the characters from the show The Walking Dead were somewhere near me, fighting the menace. In the middle of one very intense skirmish with five or six zombies, I was scratched on the arm by one of them. However, my subconscious decided that it was only a bite that could infect you, not a scratch - so I was safe. However, I wasn't pleased. 

I realized that the zombies were being controlled by an evil pirate that was bent on world domination. So in order to defeat the zombies, we had to get to the pirate and destroy him. I found the pirate dancing on the porch of a nearby house. He wore a large tattered pirate hat and a stained and dirty ruffled shirt under a black jacket with golden buttons. His skin was so pale I was sure he should have been dead. But alive he was, and his demand for calling back the zombies was my hand in marriage (I must say that is a bit of a confidence booster, but still not very nice of the pirate. He probably could have just asked and I would have said yes. There was no need for the flesh eating zombies. But I suppose then my dream would have been way less interesting). 
http://simpsons.wikia.com/wiki/File:Ralph.png

I was about to say yes to him, when Lisa and Bart Simpson appeared and told me not to fall for his tricks. He was never going to stop the zombies, no matter what I did. The only way to defeat them was to defeat Ralph, who had become a giant robot. So, I ran away with Lisa and Bart. We ran across the tops of buildings, jumping from one rooftop to the other. Casting terrified glances behind us we could see Ralph stomping jerkily down the main city street, destroying buildings as he went. We came to the end of the row of rooftops and Bart asked Lisa if she trusted him. Both Lisa and myself wished to say "No. Not at all." but we knew there wasn't enough time. We were going to have to trust Bart. He leapt off the edge of the building, disappearing from sight. Without stopping Lisa and I threw ourselves over the edge, hoping against hope that Bart had a plan. We needn't have been afraid. Below us was a fast running river and on its bank was a large blown up trampoline, the type which Hollywood stuntmen and woman use. We landed safely amidst family and friends.

Ralph came barreling round the building, heading straight for us. But the closer he came, the smaller he grew. When he finally reached us, he was only the size of an adult African Elephant. Bart threw himself onto Ralph's back and ripped out one of the four AA batteries from his back. He flung it into the river and as it floated away, the red light in Ralph's eyes slowly dimmed until there was no life left in the terrible robot. 

My dog chose this time to jump on my chest and scare me awake, so I don't know what became of the pirate or if the zombies were ever defeated. 



Sunday, February 26, 2012

Lord of the Rings the Romance Novel

Finally! I remember last night's dream. For a while there I was afraid that since I started this blog I wouldn't have any more dreams. But all is well in my world now ;) 


Well, how shall I begin to describe last night's dream...? It began with me, walking down a dirt road between rolling hills. The sky was dark with storm clouds vying for positions in the heavens. I held in my hands a romance novel, which my friend Star (she is a real friend of mine, not a construct of my subconscious) had given to me. On the cover was a powerful warrior on the back of an equally powerful steed. They were both ghostly pale, as if they were not from this mortal coil. I remember staring at the cover as I walked down the dirt road, pondering to myself what I should do with it. I couldn't read the novel. It was the second in a series and without reading the first I wouldn't be able to follow the plot line. Images of being in an old secondhand bookstore flashed before my eyes - static images of looking through shelves bursting with every kind of book imaginable, trying to find the first book in the series. 


The images stopped. I looked up from the book in my hands and was startled at the scene that lay before me. Along the opposite banks of a fast flowing river were encamped two opposing armies. The scene was far away at first, but suddenly rushed towards me, though I never moved - the sounds of weapons and soldiers growing louder. By the time I was surrounded by one of the armies I  knew that I was a princess. I held the one ring that the armies of Mordor were looking for, but few knew of my identity or the secret I carried. In the back of my mind I recognized that I had entered the book I held in my hand and darn it all if I had missed the whole first book! 


On the side of riverbank, on which we (the good guys) were camped, were two and three story brightly coloured buildings that looked as if they belonged along the high street of a small village that never quite left the nineteenth century. From the windows women and children waved to their husbands, sons, brothers and fathers on the front lines. I made my way through the throng of warriors; some crowded around fire pits eating and drinking in the pre-fight revelry of those who though victory assured; some silently sharpening weapons; and others hurrying from one place to another on their own missions. I was afraid that someone would recognize me and I would be forced to return to the house where I was supposed to be under lock and key for my "own protection". I had no intention of sitting out this fight. 


In a moment of distraction I ran headfirst into the man who not only knew exactly who I was, but apparently who I was madly in love with. He did not care for my sneaking escapade into the foray. We fought about my responsibility has a princess and guardian of the ring. I was acutely aware that if he wanted to throw me over his shoulder and march me back to my abode, he was perfectly capable of it and I would have very little choice in the matter. I was spared from such an indignity by an attack from Mordor's army. 


The sky suddenly burst into flame and white hot balls of smouldering ash rained down upon us from the other side of the river. Wherever the ash touched human flesh, painful blisters blossomed and slowly the victim began to turn to stone - radiating from the point of contact. My companion flung his cloak over me, protecting me from the onslaught. When the air cleared, he pulled away. Expecting to be hurried away immediately to a safer place, I was surprised to hear nothing from him. Looking from the sky to him I was filled with terror. He stood, starring at his hand - small white blisters bubbled up on the fingers of his right hand. I knew I had to keep the circulation flowing, so grabbing his hand I tried to massage the fingers, keeping the blood pumping. He was nearly crippled with pain, incapable of fighting or making any decisions. 


Within seconds I knew what I had to do. Earlier in the war effort a Mordor spy had been captured by our army. After several secret conversations with him, I had decided to help him escape. He was actually a good person and didn't deserve whatever was going to happen to him in our hands as a spy. He had returned to the army of Mordor. Standing there with the love of my life about to die, I knew that if I could get over the river and find this man, he would help us. Horses ran by us, fleeing in terror from the falling ash. One stallion stood his ground, powerful muscles tensed and head flung high in defiance. Stumbling over, half dragging my companion, I grabbed the reigns and hoisted (with no small effort) both of us onto the stallion's back. Hunched over as far as we could lean, I urged the stallion into a fierce gallop. Everything around us blurred, the bridge ahead of us the only clear spot in my vision. Vaguely I could hear shouts from the soldiers around us and once one of them tried to grab the reigns of the stallion to stop us, but he met with no success and was knocked into the mud.


On the other side of the bridge, we dismounted and waited to be surrounded by Mordor soldiers. Instead, the man who I had saved stood there with another soldier. They asked our names as they led us to a dark building covered in scaffolding. I told them my companion's name was Strider and I was called Faramir. The man I knew played along, keeping our secret. We entered the scaffolding covered building and I found myself in a familiar place - we were in the entrance area of Hart House at the University of Toronto. I begged the two men for a cure and it seemed as if they were about to give it to us. Even though I was scared for my companion, I was conscious of the fact that I was wearing the ring in Mordor (Two things should be explained here. 1 - I was wearing the ring on my finger. In this dream, the way to "activate" the ring was to twist it clockwise. 2 - the other side of the riverbank was not just where the army of Mordor was camped, it was also Mordor itself). 


We were left alone momentarily and my companion joked about losing one of his fingers. The antidote (which he had gotten somehow - I seemed to have missed that part in the dream) had worked, except that his middle finger was still hard as stone. I told him not to be ridiculous, it would all work out. I was the one who was meant to lose a finger since I was the one who wore the ring. Remembering once again that I was in Mordor with the ring, I tried to hide my hand in the sleeve of my jacket. Just in time. I looked up and there before us stood Sauron. Well, actually, Allan Rickman as Snape from Harry Potter stood before us. But he was Sauron....and very prancy. He danced around us and sang about how excited he was we had come to visit his humble abode. 


I wonder what would have happened next. Unfortunately the neighbours started in on some construction and I awoke to the sound of an electric sander. Curses! 

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Cops and Piranhas

I remembered last night's dream this morning, but when I finally sat down tonight to write it, I found all memories of it had fled. Well, all but the distinct feeling that it had to do with a combination of the television shows The Vampire Diaries and The Walking Dead. I bet it was pretty interesting...


Anyway, one from the archives...


12 December 2011


Last night I was a detective. 


My partner and I stood over the body of a dead woman, splayed on the hardwood floor of her bungalow. The first suspect that came to mind was her deadbeat husband. He had been arrested several times for domestic violence, but the charges had never stuck. She kept taking him back, forgiving and forgetting.


The scene shifted and we were standing over the woman's corpse in the morgue. The Medical Examiner told us that she had a brother who had also been killed. Slowly turning around we saw her brother was on the autopsy table behind us. The ME bent over the body and pulled apart his stiff gums. There was a grey discolouration on them - by this he was able to determine that the brother had died first. This news shocked myself and my partner. We were going to have to rethink the entire crime! . 


The scene changed again and we were in an darkly lit interrogation room.  The dead woman's husband sat at the rickety silver table, denying as hard and as loud as he could any involvement in either death. My partner didn't believe him, but I something in my gut told me that, though this man was a scumbag and not worth crud on my shoe, this was not our guy.


A tech entered the room to show us a video he had found on youtube. Facial recognition software thad picked out the dead brother in a video called "The nerd in the video". It was black and white and set in a dorm room. The brother was the nerd, leaning back in a computer chair with a key board in his lap. Another man was in the background laughing, though he was mostly off camera. The husband of the dead woman told us that the man laughing just out of camera shot was the man we were looking for.


We left the police station and went to a giant high tech facility where we met the man from the video. He swore he knew nothing, but his arrogance made me believe otherwise. We took a young woman from the premises (perhaps his girlfriend? She was at least someone he loved, for he followed us to save her) and we went out into the sea (for the facility was on the shore of a large ocean) to get answers from her. My partner tried to drown her to get her to confess her part in the killings and rat out the guy from the video but she was crying and said she didn't know anything. We were all treading water and I was too far away to stop my partner. I swam as fast as I could to save the girl from him, but when I got to her, my partner had already let her go, disgusted by her refusal to give up the suspect. Grabbing her I tried to drag her to shore because I realized that a storm was coming fast and if we didn't get out of the water soon we would all drown. The closer we got to shore the greater the feeling became that we were about to be eaten by piranhas. 


That's when my alarm clock went off. 


I wonder what would have happened. Would we have made it to shore before the storm or the piranhas? Would the man from the video have confessed? Maybe he would have put us on a new lead. Or perhaps it simply would have been a dead end...

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Buses, Mordor and a Water Park

I don't remember last night's dream, so here is another one from the archives...


12 March 2010


What I can remember from this dream comes in snippets. I was standing at the bus stop in St Andrews, Scotland. It was late at night and a soft snow was falling all around me. Looking up from the ground I saw my friend Abi tiptoe past me in her pyjamas (which was a pretty awesome thing because she's in a wheelchair). I remember thinking "Ha! I've had a dream about her walking three times, so this must be real! I'm not hallucinating!"


Suddenly Abi became the bus driver, but she kept missing the stops we were supposed to pick people up at. We were meant to go see the movie Cirque du Freak's Vampire Assistant, but I soon realized that with Abi's driving and the people she had angered at the bus stops by missing them, we were never going to get there. Presumably because it would take too long 'cause she was slow, and the angry mob would attack before we could get inside the theatre. 


Then all of a strange sudden, I was in Mordor. However, it was a water park. I was trying to get inside, though I'm not sure why. I think it had something to do with the one ring and to save a princess and/or Gollum. I figured out how to open a gate that was several stories above the ground. It was created as a water gate to allow for a waterfall. Somehow I restored its supports and was able to enter (I'm going to assume that the water was not flowing and that is how I was able to get in...but I could be wrong). Once inside I tried to navigate the halls (because apparently on the other side of the water gate hanging in mid air was the inside of a castle. Huh. Whoda thunk it?), but I was found by Orcs! Not just any Orcs though... cartoon Orcs. I ran back and tried to rewind or reverse what I had done before but it wouldn't work... so I jumped out the window. That will clearly fix my problems. 


On several occasions I slid down some water slides (or so says the notes I wrote about the dream). 


Food for thought: Middle Earth as an amusement park. I wonder what kind of rides they would have...

Monday, February 20, 2012

The Beginning...

This blog is meant, mostly, to entertain people with the craziness and utter randomness that are my dreams. Since I have a lot of them to catch up on, I will try to post one from my journal record of crazy dreams on days that I can't remember what I dreamt the night before. And since I can't remember last night's, I shall pick one from my repertoire to amuse myself and hopefully the reader...



Friday, 20 February 2012


Last night I dreamt that I was running. The world had come to a catastrophic end and the zombies were amassing. Not a good start to a dream, I know, but there you go. Everything was dark, with an almost blue-green tinge. The streets were covered in trash and mangled cars. Fires burned in trash cans and the sounds of sirens rang in the air. My two friends (Brandy and Shan) and myself ducked around burning wreckage and bloody, half-eaten corpses. Ahead of us, on a grassy hill was a blue bungalow. The sun shown behind it like a beacon and it looked like it was a part of a different world. The world behind us was dark, dirty and terrifying. The world in front of us was clean, bright and safe. Making a run up the hill, I called back to my companions telling them that an old woman lived in this house and we would find protection here. 


Boy was I wrong...


From the ground there arose a tennis ball net. I immediately knew that we had been lead into a trap! I turned around and tried to run back to Brandy and Shan, but we were cut off from each other as tall fences rose around me, topped with electric wires to prevent any escape. The Old Woman appeared on the other side of the net from me and said that if I wanted to escape then I would have to beat her in a game of volleyball (Yes. We were about to play volleyball on a tennis ball court). We began to play, but she was cheating! I can't remember how she was cheating, I just know she was. I realized that my friend Stephanie and another girl from my class (though I can't remember who she is at this current juncture) were with the Old Woman and she had turned them into robots to obey her every whim! From the corner of my eye I saw that near the back of the court, the fence was pulling apart - but there wasn't enough room for me to fit through. With much effort I finally hit the ball far enough away that the Old Woman had to run for it. I took that opportunity to whisper to Brandy and Shan (on the other side of the fence). I instructed them to find weak points in the fence to make enough room for my escape. Even though I thought I had been very sneaky, the Old Woman knew what I was up to. I sat on the ground and cried about how it wasn't fair that she was cheating. When she turned away I ran for the hole in the fence Brandy and Shan had widened. 


Once out I found myself, no longer on the soft green grass of the Old Woman's front law, but on the hard brown surface of a desert. I crawled backwards through scraggly brush and short cacti, nearly falling over a small cliff. Stephanie chased me down and brought me back to the Old Woman's house. Brandy, Shan and I stood on the fire escape (because now the bungalow was no longer a bungalow, but a two story house), looking through a door to the inside where Stephanie stood with the Old Woman. I pleaded with Stephanie to let us go. Not knowing what to do I asked her if she loved the Old Woman. Stephanie nodded and said that she loved her more than anything because she had saved her (Stephanie's) life. I told her that the Yeerks (yes, the alien slugs from the Animorphs books) had taken over my brother and sister and they didn't remember me anymore. How would she feel if the Old Woman no longer knew her? Stephanie began to cry and decided she would let me go so I could free my family. But as she went to show us the way to freedom, she remembered she needed to do her Silver Condition Reporting (a homework assignment we had in class - that was due last week I might add). She ran away from me crying about not finishing in time and letting everyone down. 


And that's all I remember from that dream...