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And we’re off – in a strange dream time machine… August 29, 2013

Posted by phoenixaeon in Children's Literature, Dreams, MA.
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booksI have finally started the reading for the MA – well, when I say finally, I have been doing dribs and drabs for the past couple of weeks, reading books like Eva by Peter Dickinson (very interesting, and though not a Carnegie winner, it made me think about similar themes in recent winners by Neil Gaiman and Siobhan Dowd) and The Mouse and his Child by Russell Hoban. However, over the last couple of days I’ve cracked open the theory books. In particular, that one just up there, Beginning Theory. This has meant that I have re-entered the crash zone for theories such as human liberalism (needs a re-read) and structuralism (which I’m surprised at how much I’ve already covered and sort of understand). It has also resulted in my brain trying to find a way to sift through this information and therefore providing me with some very strange dreams… *Scooby Doo wavy cut screen*

I was house-hunting with my family when we stumbled across this new ‘community’ housing project, where the houses were all built one on top of the other, like some strange house of cards deal (or like this). We find one on the very top level that seems perfect, so we buy it there and then. Now, in this house there’s this strange storeroom that has windows on all four sides, something that made me dream-think ‘That’s a bit crap, security-wise.’ Anyway, there’s four bedrooms on the upper level – something else that I thought was impractical, as I wouldn’t be able to get the wheelchair up there (despite the fact that I was happily walking around this house!) – and the bedroom that I would have has this super-skinny doorway that even Princi would have struggled to get through. I finally squeeze through into a bedroom which is strangely huge but tiny at the same time. It’s all fully furnished, but I’m saying to my Dad that it’d be no good for us, because the wheelchair would never fit through the doorway, and besides, there’s a weird camber to the room making it completely wonky. Then I see this blue wardrobe, which suddenly falls over. I realise it’s not a wardrobe, but a life-size TARDIS. It’s also not made of wood, but from ceramic, as it cracks across the top when it hits the opposite wall. I get flashes of Sylvester McCoy’s Doctor when I touch it, then notice this props label stuck beneath the Police Public Call Box sign. It has a name (which I can’t remember) and the number 1701-I next to it. This makes me geekle (cross between geek and giggle) because of the obvious Star Trek connection and making me wonder since when did the TARDIS become the I incarnation of the Enterprise, but I’m still thinking that even with the TARDIS, we couldn’t really live there – and I couldn’t even sneak it out because of the stupid skinny doorway, and I hadn’t noticed a window…

And that was that. So brain, thank you for your weirdness in incorporating the Structuralist paradigmatic chain of space ships and time-travelling boxes into my dreams. And thank you for making me dream about houses after learning about paradigmatic chains through the word hut, and placing the dream-me into a strange structural and architectural nightmare! And thank you for giving me something to think about all day today, therefore making me not study at all!

Trials and tribulations. (I so wish that was Tribble-ations!) October 12, 2009

Posted by phoenixaeon in bedtime, Children's Literature, Dreams, EA300, Fairy tales, OU, sick Principessa.

Ooh, it’s been a tough last week. Princi was sent home from school on Thursday complaining of headaches. About half an hour after arriving home she started chucking up. She then went through the sleeping for an hour, waking up, taking a mouthful of water and chucking up again phase. Aw, she even came downstairs citing, ‘I am not crying. I am panicking because I am sick.’ Poor little Munchkin! She spent the whole evening like that, the vomiting carrying on until around 2.30am. She had a temperature through Friday and Saturday, but was back to her normal self yesterday. Apart from waking up last night with ‘two broken legs.’ It seems she had been suffering with cramp in her calves through the night. I gave her a leg massage this morning and then told her to walk it out until the ache subsided. Poor babe.

As for me, I spent yesterday in agony after waking up in the night to turn over only to discover that my hip seemed to have seized. I had been avoiding a sprung spring on the mattress (thanks to Princi using the bed as a trampoline) and had slept in a bad position. Ouch! It’s still slightly sore this morning, but much better than it was yesterday.

Still, with Princi’s ‘broken legs’ and my strange dreams, I am knackered today. Yeah, my subconscious was in overdrive again last night. Dreams of alien invasions and the strange insecty aliens (kind of like V meets Starship Troopers) using humans as symbiotic disguises plagued my dreams. A band of resistance fighters had set themselves up in a shanty town in the mountains – the thinner air being detrimental to the insecty things – but someone had still been ‘infected’. For some reason Apollo from the new BSG was one of the resistance leaders and it was Sam from Supernatural who had been ‘infected’. (Yeah, I don’t know what goes on in my mind when I’m not controlling it!) He had a tear in his calf where the thing had entered (maybe my subconscious was telling me about Princi’s cramp here!), but its tail was still visible (I can imagine what Freudian psychoanalysis would make of that!). Apollo was a medic of some sort and was thinking of a way to extract the alien. And that’s all I can remember.

Hopefully, the strangeness leaked now, I will be able to get moving on this LRRH essay. I’ve had a couple of false starts so far, suffering trouble with linking the points together, but I think I may have had a breakthrough this morning whilst listening to some music and blowing jewels up in Bejeweled. So, I shall have a cup of coffee and a cuddle from the cat and then I shall get cracking on the essay. With some luck and determination I might get a full first draft done today as tomorrow will be disturbed by sheds arriving and physio visits. Hmph.

Subconscious madness! August 29, 2009

Posted by phoenixaeon in Dreams.

Yep, I’ve been having crazy dreams again. It was a strange Hansel and Gretel meets Ariadne and Theseus combination meets a university kind of Bildungsroman!

Here goes. I was back at Bradford Uni, and it was the first day of term. I had the keys to my room, but somehow they had been left in the room – don’t know how, I’d never been inside. I had been talking to a Chinese student who was feeling out of her depth, so we had gone to the pub and we were sitting on the grass with a bunch of people (my sister included) having a drink. All of a sudden, a bunch of us get up to go for a walk, but I remember I need to get the spare keys for my room and we turn back.  The only way back to the campus is over this strange flyover called ‘The Cakewalk’. There’s hundreds of steps to get to the top of the Cakewalk. I tell them that I can’t walk up there because I can’t walk up and down stairs – oh, and by now I am walking barefoot – so me and a friend start to find an alternative way around. We try to follow the flyover, but we end up in this glass building that looks like a car dealership, but it’s not. My tutor is in there – a bloke called David Johnson – and he is a lech. I am forgetting details here – me and my friend are both dressed like promo girls for a boys mag and there is a book signing going on by Brian Lumley and the artist who has illustrated his new book (except it’s not the artist that usually does his book covers). This David Johnson bloke gives us a map showing us how to get back to the university, but tells us to be careful at a certain place because we might get lost in the garden. So me and my friend start on our way.

First, we follow a main road. There are trucks racing down the road and we have to dodge them by jumping onto a grass verge. (Strange how we weren’t told to be careful here.) Then we cross over and we are walking down a residential street, checking the map to make sure we are going the right way. Then we end up at a gated dead end. Behind the gate there is a thick, gnarly forest. This must be the garden. I notice a key in the lock as my friend is looking for a way to climb over the gate. Two old women walk past and warn us about the dangers of the garden and about how people have gone inside and have never come out. Then a thought occurs to me. ‘Have you got a ball of wool?’ I ask the old women. ‘Someone has already tried that,’ they say, and nod towards a door. On the knocker  a broken length of red wool is dancing in then wind. My friend is already over the gate and calling me to jump over. I turn the key, open the gate, sit on the ledge and push myself over into the forest. We begin to walk, though it’s hard to see because it is so overgrown and dense. Then we hear some scary kid-like chanting, so we try to hide but we can see three girls coming towards us. The forest dissolves and we are standing in the centre of the kids’ bedroom but they can’t see us. We look around and we can hear the mother walking towards the bedroom. My friend hides, but I can’t find a hiding place. The mother walks in, nods to me, then says ‘It’s time for dinner. But show these two girls where to go before you come down.’  Then the girls point to the wall and a door appears, but they are still ignoring my friend and I.

We walk through the door. We are on a corridor with further doors around us. We look through one and there are two teenage brothers asleep in their beds. There is a window at the bottom of the corridor, so we look out. It seems this is the way out. We climb out and we are once again at a busy road. The pavement is bricked and there are gold chains lying between the bricks. I kick one out and grab it with my toes before my friend and I make our way across the road to the centre of a roundabout. When we get to the roundabout I pick the chain up, but it has transformed into something else. We drop it onto the brickwork of the roundabout. We look at the map to make sure we take the right road off the roundabout. Then I wake up.

Yep, it was definitely a strange dream. I wonder what my subconscious was trying to tell me. Maybe my Muse is ready to start playing again. That’d be good. Lately, the thought of writing has turned my stomach with dread. So, yay if that is about to change!

Well, I think I shoud go and do some reading for my course while Princi is happily watching Playhouse Disney. Such a pity it doesn’t have the same affect on me!

My brain is a very strange place. April 8, 2009

Posted by phoenixaeon in A215, Dreams, ECA, Life writing, Poetry, TMA04, TMA05, Writing goals.
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Yep. I had another weird dream last night, though the only part I can remember is an advert. It had a bloke in it, all happy and jolly, until all of a sudden he clutches his side and falls down. Next thing, his insides are spilling out and there is a huge writhing mass of something contorting in the open cavity. It turns out to be his liver, with the tagline – ‘If you don’t look after your body, your body wont look after you.’ Then the writhing mass devours him. I know. My subconscious is messed up!

Still, I had another patch of productivity yesterday. I fixed the problems with my TMA narrative, and completed the first draft of the commentary, then completed the first drafts of two poems that had been playing on my mind. During Princi’s distracted phases today I have tidied up the commentary, compiled the TMA so it’s ready to send, and sorted out the references. Now all I have to do is get all the relevant info for the biblio, and it’s more or less done. Yay! So now my checklist looks like this:

  1. TMA04 = Life writing. 1500 words + 500 words reflective commentary. (Apr 17)
  2. TMA05 = Publication research, themed sequence of poems (at least 3)  40 lines (max 42) + 500 words reflective commentary + reading final chapters of BRB. (May 15) *
  3. ECA = 1500 words prose (life writing) + 40-50 lines poetry**+ 700 words reflective commentary. (June 5)
  • *Revise drafts of Persephone, Cassandra, and Yggdrassil. Begin planning submissions commentary based around Iota magazine.
  • **Revise drafts of Mecha-Lexy, At the feet of Rafa Nadal, Meat, and the life writing narrative. Complete first draft of Foil and Gambling on inheritance. Choose which poems to use for ECA. Begin planning the commentary.

So that’s me for the next few weeks. And if other poems make themselves known, then I’ll scribble them too. Wow! I never thought I’d be so over-awed by writing. It’s giving me a strange adrenaline rush!

Well, time for a break. Possibly time for some phonics fun with Princi, if I can tear her away from the laptop. As for the teaching of letters writing, we’ve only managed a,b,c,d before she got bored and wanted to draw shapes. At least she can write her name.

My super strong hands are no good at twisting. April 7, 2009

Posted by phoenixaeon in Dreams, The Principessa Files.

This is Princi’s new ‘thing’. She does everything with her super strong hands, except for when she’s picking her nose with her super strong finger! I asked her to spin the stairlift around this morning, and playing silly buggers, she decided that what I actually said was ‘Could you spin the bannister?’ So there she is, at the top of the stairs, trying to twist the central support of the bannister. ‘But Mummy, my super strong hands are no good at twisting,’ Funny little Monkey! I love her!

But super strong hands have nothing on the super strange dream I had last night. All about alien abductions and Mega-Jesus, brainwashed cults and studying. It makes me wonder what my brain is trying to tell me! I would especially like it to explain the Mega-Jesus thing to me. Why in the hell am I dreaming about that? Attack of the 50 foot Jesus is not a good thing! Not in my head, anyway. It has no reason to be there, whatsoever! Unless it was an analogy for something else… still don’t know what though.

Well, I still need to finish the commentary for TMA04. Need to get it finished for Friday, so I can treat myself to the cinema at the weekend. Maybe I’ll finally get to see Watchmen.

At least I’ve managed to prune the prose piece for the ECA. From 1500 words to 1267 words. Just about perfect.

Devils can dream. February 21, 2009

Posted by phoenixaeon in Dreams, Uncategorized.

Sometimes, dreams suck just as bad as reality…

There is no escape!

Get out of my dreams! November 2, 2008

Posted by phoenixaeon in blogs, Dreams, F1.

I would like to know what my subconscious was trying to tell me last night after having a dream where I returned to Bradford Uni and then met Wil Wheaton at a comic convention. Hmmm? What problem was the brain trying to work out?

I am wondering if I should have a go at a NaBloWriMo this month as I’m not brave enough to do NaNoWriMo. What is NaBloWriMo? National blog writing month, meaning that I write a blog entry every day of November. Well, we’ll see how it goes. Two days done, twenty-eight to go!

Anyhoos, the plan for today:

  • Do a couple of activities out of the BRB
  • Research brown hair dye (sounds strange, but I have reasons)
  • Sort out Princi’s schooliform
  • Watch the Brazilian F1
  • Maybe go and eat something…

1 + 4 = 5 ghosts August 27, 2008

Posted by phoenixaeon in Dreams, TMA08.
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Wow! I had the craziest, well not crazy, but messed up dream last night. It started off all well and good, but a relationship breakup set off a strange chase dream.

I was running for my life. Because friends got in the way, they lost their lives and then, all of a sudden, the person doing the chasing disappeared. The next thing I know I am at a house having a meal of undercooked steak and sausages with chips, baked beans and mushy peas – mostly foodstuffs I hate in real life. There are three cards on the table in front of the woman whose house it is. When she takes the plates out, I pick the cards up and read what’s inside them. They are from the bloke who had been chasing me. It is the second card that gets my attention. At the bottom of the card there are two sets of pictures of little stick men with big heads. The first picture shows one little stick man, an equals sign, and “1 ghost“. Underneath it says “Me plus her, alone, in her room.” The second set shows one little stick man, a plus sign, four little stick men, an equals sign, and “5 ghosts“. Underneath it says “Her, plus her friends, if her friends get in the way.” I ask if I can take the cards to make copies (morbid, I know) and give them to boyfriend to pass back. But I forget the boyfriend’s name. The woman’s husband shouts, “Hey, Robinson, get over her. She’s forgotten who you are!” As he says this, I remember his name and say, “Alan. I will pass them back to Alan,” while rolling my eyes at my silly memory.

This isn’t the whole dream, and I know I woke up at least twice during this dream. The first time I woke up I remember thinking, as I fell back to sleep (I was fighting going back to sleep because the dream was at a particularly frightening part), “I can’t let this dream beat me.” Still, it was a pretty harrowing dream, all in all. I wonder what my subconscious was trying to work through?

Well, I think I have about 600 words so far for the essay. But at least it seems to be coming together. If I can remove a Principessa from my shoulders (she is there now, watching Nick Jr.) then I shall get the books out and start writing again. Hopefully, I’ll get the first draft done today.

Whales and dolphins, whales and dolphins, yeah! August 15, 2008

Posted by phoenixaeon in Dolphins Lab Shark, Dreams, music, OU, Turn on.
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(Pic from http://www.kidzone.ws/)

But no. Sharks and dolphins, no whales. In my dreams. Evoloved sharks and dolphins. Sharks in smoking jackets and dolphins in lab coats. Yes, I am mad.

So I had this weird dream, obviously. Above water level there was a TV station. There was some sort of Jeopardy style game show. The winners, well, they won. The losers, they were chucked into some massive vat and flushed away, where sharks waited in anticipation like dogs under a dinner table. When the losers appeared the sharks caught them, again like a dog catching scraps at the aforementioned dinner table. Some losers escaped, and found themselves at this strange, enclosed underwater complex.

Lots of rooms and corridors. The rooms were all plush, with all mod cons and any creature comforts you could think of. In these rooms, lots of peeps. There was only one problem. There were sharks inside. Sharks that could walk on their tail-fins, and use their pectoral fins as hands and arms. They would walk to a room, and just as a trained squirrel would do, pressed a button, the door would slide open, and the shark would snatch a person from the room. This happened a few times in the rooms that the dream me happened to be in. I became really annoyed by this, so found an interconnecting door. When the buzzer went on the door the shark was opening, I went through into the other room, quietly opened the door to the corridor, and attacked the shark from behind. (Here is where dreamtime goes anti-physics!) I grab the shark by his throat, and start screaming that I was fed up of him eating my friends. I walked down the corridor, shark by the throat, until we reached a set of double doors. Through the double doors we go, into a laboratory run by dolphins in lab coats and spectacles. I throw the shark at them, shouting that they can have him back because I was really pee’d off with him. The dolphins were mightly happy at the return of thier lab pet!

Then I woke up.

So yeah. I think I must have a fevered brain. Or maybe, after reading the Timothy Leary turn on-tune in-drop out stuff last night my brain decided that sharks and dolphins are to be my religion. Who knows. It must have been the repercussions of the “Death. Life. Structure” thing in the source reading. Must have been changed to Dolphins. Lab. Shark.

Well, off to continue reading the music unit, as the religion stuff is clearly playing with my head! (Though the music is doing my nut, too. Listening to “The Dangling Conversation”, I am sure that the second “Are the borders of our lives” – as it is written in the lyric in the block book – is more “Are the warders of our lives” when you listen to it. It would make more sense to the song.)

These dreams… June 20, 2008

Posted by phoenixaeon in Dreams, OU, Wallace, Wasps.
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Don’t you just hate it when you have a dream, you are quite sure you are dreaming, but you wake up feeling that the dream was real?

This morning I was woken with that kind of start. I was dreaming that I was asleep, yet I was somewhat awake at the same time – I was able to view everything in the bedroom. Or maybe I was dreaming that I was in the bedroom in the dream. Anyway. I could hear a buzzing sound. I pinpointed it to the curtains, but then it started getting closer. I had in my mind ‘There’s a bloody wasp coming to get me!’ The next thing, the buzzing is right at my ear and I could feel the displaced air on wisps of hair, the proximity of the sting making me sleep wince! Then the wasp landed on my ear, and I was trying to move without moving, hoping that the thing didn’t crawl into my ear and sting my eardrum or something! I gently and quietly moved my head, so that the wasp was brushed onto the quilt, and hid my head under the covers. It was this move, in my dream and in reality, that woke me up. I spent the next five minutes listening for waspy buzzing, just in case I hadn’t been dreaming!

Can you tell I don’t like wasps? I think that this dream was residual fear from last week when I was buzz attacked by an absolutely massive wasp in the bathroom. What freaked me out more than this wasp just ending up dropping from somewhere and buzzing around behind me for a few minutes, and me being just a little incapacitated to get away from it, was that the wasp somehow ended up caught in my hair just above my ear. The buzzing alone is enough to reduce me to tears, but the proximity of the sting to my head completely shook me. Then the bloody thing just dropped from my hair and onto the floor by my foot! Argh! I think I did scream, too!

Well, enough about wasps and dreams of wasps. *Shudder*

I should get my Wallace essay back in the next few days. I am so worried about it. I know now that I didn’t answer the question properly, as I’ve moaned about already. I’m not even sure now that I had enough in there to give me a pass. I’m so disappointed in myself *sigh*.