Thursday, May 19, 2016
TBTT#19 A Wrinkle in SOMEthing... ~ 1/8/2013
I dreamed I was traveling with Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Who, and Mrs. Which across space and time in little ships shaped like silver dollar sized snowflakes. The ships also shot snowflake shaped projectiles as big as they were, and sharp as ninja throwing stars. I was a teen aged telepath and we were traveling the universe, through fire and swarms of yellow jackets, to solve and avenge the murder of a woman in the bathroom of a German bar. Turns out she had been killed by her husband and son (who were, of course, aliens in disguise) for the high crime of telling the boy he couldn't have a pair of expensive sneakers, and that he should be more polite to women. The bar looked a lot like Valhalla, and the weirdest part was... I ordered a Red Bull.
Saturday, May 7, 2016
Ghost in the Machine ~ 5/7/2016
I dreamed that I was working with some footage of the Lytle High School Marching Band, in parade formation, boarding a cruise ship that was taking them to an international marching band festival. My job was to edit the clips together, and add some animation to pizzazz up the montage.
First I removed a bit of aside banter I'd had with their drum major, where I'd told her I'd been a drum major for Medina Valley, and we had a bit of good-spirited booing and trash talking before things really got going. When I finally had everything lined up in my program the way I wanted, I went to go check the code and animation libraries to make sure it was all in a state I could work with. Sometimes code isn't, you know.
But, as I started scanning through the code, the program took on a life of its own, and started removing a lot of my semicolons, and replacing them with random animation tags. My film started playing, and there were weird, glistening spangles in a rainbow of colors, scattered across all the objects in frame. The sky had gone pink and purple, and the band was marching through a field of green clover, and going into a hole in the ground instead of a ship.
There were random beetles and butterflies and bats and stuff flying around, and the music was all jumbled into a cacophony. People's faces weren't quite right. They all seemed off-kilter, and some of them were sagging lopsidedly. It was a nightmare, and I couldn't even begin to imagine how long it would take to fix the code, because it would all have to be manual.
Then something even worse happened. One of the figures on the screen turned toward me, laughed, and came out of the screen to stand beside me. He was wearing a white suit and a rainbow tie, and had all the different spangly patches here and there on his clothing and skin. Even worse, one of his eyes sagged half out of it's socket, and his skin had little flaps that drooped away from his flesh, which was gray in some places. And I recognized him. He was a guy I'd had a crush on back in middle school.
He began to follow me around as I tried to leave the studio and find someone who could help me. He kept hitting on me, which was really off-putting since I had been SO OVER him for, like, decades, and I knew the real him was in a steady relationship. He disappeared, but just as I was feeling relieved, he returned with a woman, whom he must have pulled out of the animation, because she was just as partially melted and spangled as he was.
After all that hitting on me, he introduced the woman to me as his fiancee, and started begging me to help plan their wedding, and she was all syrupy sweet about it, but I could tell she was angry, and at ME. Whenever she stalked away, he would make a heavy pass at me before going after her. And all I wanted to do was figure out what was haunting my code (I suspected it was him), and how I could get everything back in order as quickly as possible.
Then I woke up.
First I removed a bit of aside banter I'd had with their drum major, where I'd told her I'd been a drum major for Medina Valley, and we had a bit of good-spirited booing and trash talking before things really got going. When I finally had everything lined up in my program the way I wanted, I went to go check the code and animation libraries to make sure it was all in a state I could work with. Sometimes code isn't, you know.
But, as I started scanning through the code, the program took on a life of its own, and started removing a lot of my semicolons, and replacing them with random animation tags. My film started playing, and there were weird, glistening spangles in a rainbow of colors, scattered across all the objects in frame. The sky had gone pink and purple, and the band was marching through a field of green clover, and going into a hole in the ground instead of a ship.
There were random beetles and butterflies and bats and stuff flying around, and the music was all jumbled into a cacophony. People's faces weren't quite right. They all seemed off-kilter, and some of them were sagging lopsidedly. It was a nightmare, and I couldn't even begin to imagine how long it would take to fix the code, because it would all have to be manual.
Then something even worse happened. One of the figures on the screen turned toward me, laughed, and came out of the screen to stand beside me. He was wearing a white suit and a rainbow tie, and had all the different spangly patches here and there on his clothing and skin. Even worse, one of his eyes sagged half out of it's socket, and his skin had little flaps that drooped away from his flesh, which was gray in some places. And I recognized him. He was a guy I'd had a crush on back in middle school.
He began to follow me around as I tried to leave the studio and find someone who could help me. He kept hitting on me, which was really off-putting since I had been SO OVER him for, like, decades, and I knew the real him was in a steady relationship. He disappeared, but just as I was feeling relieved, he returned with a woman, whom he must have pulled out of the animation, because she was just as partially melted and spangled as he was.
After all that hitting on me, he introduced the woman to me as his fiancee, and started begging me to help plan their wedding, and she was all syrupy sweet about it, but I could tell she was angry, and at ME. Whenever she stalked away, he would make a heavy pass at me before going after her. And all I wanted to do was figure out what was haunting my code (I suspected it was him), and how I could get everything back in order as quickly as possible.
Then I woke up.
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
The Adventures of Quentin and Marissa ~ 5/3/2016
I dreamed the adventures of Quentin and Marissa, young people who had grown up together. Quentin was a lanky, straw-haired kid who had bused tables and cleaned floors since he was so young he had to lie about his age to get a job. Marissa was a dark-haired beauty a few years older who used to try to look out for that sweet, skinny kid Quentin, until she got caught up in troubles of her own.
Both of them had big dreams. Marissa wanted to train as a fighter pilot, and join the French Resistance, and Quentin was wanted to be an author, and was always trying to find time to work on his book. But, in trying to earn money for flying lessons, Marissa fell in with a bad crowd. She never actually did drugs or turned tricks, but for years she was just a half a step away from both. She'd gotten involved with a guy who always had money to burn, and had offered to give her those flying lessons as long as she was dating him. He was as good as his word, at least, but he was also an abusive shit.
As he got older, Quentin realized he loved Marissa, and wished he could give her a better life, or at least just that she'd stop seeing him as a kid, and realize he'd become a good man, even if he couldn't afford flying lessons. In trying to get closer to her, he ran afoul of her boyfriend, who threatened to kill her if Quentin didn't help him deal drugs.
Marissa was supposed to be their go-between, and Quentin hated that she was being used like this, but knew the alternative was worse. But when she was supposed to hand him the drugs, instead she gave him a folded slip of paper, and on the outside it said, "Get out of here. Don't worry. Read this later." She slipped away into the night, and as he pondered this note, he heard a roar in the sky. He looked up, and there was Marissa, in the cockpit of a fighter jet, waving at him and headed toward France.
He had no idea what he would do if he left his jobs, but he knew that, while she might be safe, he was now in a lot of danger if he didn't follow her directions, so he left everything behind and got a bus to a different state. He got work in another restaurant, where he met Peter and Louis, who, like him, had big dreams. Like Quentin, they both played the trumpet, but while Quentin was a really talented ensemble player, Peter and Louis were improvisational masters. They really wanted to make a demo to send to a recording agency, but they didn't have the money for the studio time. Quentin agreed to help them save up.
For months Quentin slogged away, just like he had before, until one day Marissa walked into the diner where he worked. Now, he'd told Peter and Louis all about the girl he loved, and had shown them a picture of her that he had, so Peter recognized her, and came back to get him. Quentin ran out, full of questions, but Marissa was surprised to see him, and asked him what he was doing there. Quentin replied that of course he was working.
That's when she asked him hadn't he ever read her note? He pulled out the scrap of paper that he'd kept as a memento of the night she'd saved his life and achieved her dream, but had never opened. In it were the numbers to a bank account she'd opened in his name, after getting his book published for him, with the help of an editor she'd met. Quentin was actually now a multi-millionaire who could focus all his time on writing and get his friends studio time. He helped them record their album, and their talents were recognized by a famous agent, who launched them on wildly successful careers.
And, of course, Marissa revealed that she'd always loved Quentin, but never felt like she could pursue him until she'd gotten her own life together, and they were on an even field. Now that they had both achieved their dreams, and were set on an upward course, she admitted her feelings, he admitted his, and, though they couldn't always be together, because the French Resistance needed her, Quentin felt like the luckiest guy in the world, and loved her even more for her devotion to her cause.
And as they lived happily ever after, my dream world took a step back, and I could see that Marissa and Quentin were both patients with severe mental disabilities in a private psychiatric home, who enlivened their days together by living in a complex fantasy world. Then I woke up.
Both of them had big dreams. Marissa wanted to train as a fighter pilot, and join the French Resistance, and Quentin was wanted to be an author, and was always trying to find time to work on his book. But, in trying to earn money for flying lessons, Marissa fell in with a bad crowd. She never actually did drugs or turned tricks, but for years she was just a half a step away from both. She'd gotten involved with a guy who always had money to burn, and had offered to give her those flying lessons as long as she was dating him. He was as good as his word, at least, but he was also an abusive shit.
As he got older, Quentin realized he loved Marissa, and wished he could give her a better life, or at least just that she'd stop seeing him as a kid, and realize he'd become a good man, even if he couldn't afford flying lessons. In trying to get closer to her, he ran afoul of her boyfriend, who threatened to kill her if Quentin didn't help him deal drugs.
Marissa was supposed to be their go-between, and Quentin hated that she was being used like this, but knew the alternative was worse. But when she was supposed to hand him the drugs, instead she gave him a folded slip of paper, and on the outside it said, "Get out of here. Don't worry. Read this later." She slipped away into the night, and as he pondered this note, he heard a roar in the sky. He looked up, and there was Marissa, in the cockpit of a fighter jet, waving at him and headed toward France.
He had no idea what he would do if he left his jobs, but he knew that, while she might be safe, he was now in a lot of danger if he didn't follow her directions, so he left everything behind and got a bus to a different state. He got work in another restaurant, where he met Peter and Louis, who, like him, had big dreams. Like Quentin, they both played the trumpet, but while Quentin was a really talented ensemble player, Peter and Louis were improvisational masters. They really wanted to make a demo to send to a recording agency, but they didn't have the money for the studio time. Quentin agreed to help them save up.
For months Quentin slogged away, just like he had before, until one day Marissa walked into the diner where he worked. Now, he'd told Peter and Louis all about the girl he loved, and had shown them a picture of her that he had, so Peter recognized her, and came back to get him. Quentin ran out, full of questions, but Marissa was surprised to see him, and asked him what he was doing there. Quentin replied that of course he was working.
That's when she asked him hadn't he ever read her note? He pulled out the scrap of paper that he'd kept as a memento of the night she'd saved his life and achieved her dream, but had never opened. In it were the numbers to a bank account she'd opened in his name, after getting his book published for him, with the help of an editor she'd met. Quentin was actually now a multi-millionaire who could focus all his time on writing and get his friends studio time. He helped them record their album, and their talents were recognized by a famous agent, who launched them on wildly successful careers.
And, of course, Marissa revealed that she'd always loved Quentin, but never felt like she could pursue him until she'd gotten her own life together, and they were on an even field. Now that they had both achieved their dreams, and were set on an upward course, she admitted her feelings, he admitted his, and, though they couldn't always be together, because the French Resistance needed her, Quentin felt like the luckiest guy in the world, and loved her even more for her devotion to her cause.
And as they lived happily ever after, my dream world took a step back, and I could see that Marissa and Quentin were both patients with severe mental disabilities in a private psychiatric home, who enlivened their days together by living in a complex fantasy world. Then I woke up.
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