January 31st, 2014

dreams, insomnia, sleep

Looking for a mom, but finding me instead

My subconscious has lost all subtlety.

Last night I dreamt that my mom and I were sharing a room at a hotel. In the morning (in the dream), I had many frustrating problems, which I was facing on my own, because my mom was still sleeping in her own bed in the room.

Eventually, I decided to go out to breakfast, so I gathered up the other members of our party (two nameless friends + my brother) and we went out to wait in a very long line at the hotel restaurant. I was still feeling annoyed by the morning's difficulties, and somehow it ended up aimed at my mom, so I didn't go to get her before we left for the restaurant.

So we're waiting in this long line, and partway through I realized that my mom would be really upset when she found out, because she LOVES going out to breakfast, and if we went out to breakfast without her it would break her heart (no "break" pun intended).

So I started trying to call her, but I couldn't remember her phone number. I asked Nally to call her, and he did, and I noticed that this thing in my hand was doing this weird, loud, vibrating, buzzing thing. I kept looking at it, puzzled, but eventually realized that when Nally phoned my mom, it was actually this thing in my hand (somehow related to our hotel room) that was "ringing."

What we actually needed was my mom's cell phone number. I called the hotel to try to get it, but that didn't help. I tried to call information, but that didn't help. I tried to call information in Anaheim (where my mom doesn't even live anymore, but did when I was a kid), but that didn't work either.

I decided to walk up this long, steep hill path to the main hotel, where the rooms were, to go to our room and find her, and I walked this long long path, up and down the hill, and I could see the hotel in the distance and tried to walk toward it, but the road kept turning, and eventually I found myself back at the restaurant!

I started crying and crying, just sobbing my eyes out (in the dream), and I kept saying, "She's going to be so mad! She's going to be so mad!" and my brother said, "This looks like some of that anxiety you've been talking about."

Finis.

Subtlety, thy name is not "Kimberly's subconscious."
art, collage

A significantly less crappy photo of my recent elephant collage

I took some more photos of my elephant collage today in an effort to come up with something at least a bit better than the blurry mess I posted a couple days ago, and this is the significantly less crappy result:

elephant-collage-better

Again, collaged entirely out of magazine text. Even the "signature" at the bottom right.

ETA: Hmm. Upon closer inspection of the photo, I find that someone seems to have fucked up the baby elephant's right eye in the time since the canvas left my possession. Hmm. I will have to perform some ophthalmological surgery to correct this unfortunate and disfiguring injury.