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1. Why did the yo-yo cross the road?
...
Never mind. It's back.
2. New icon:
Thoughts? I'm not quite satisfied with it, but not sure how to finish/improve it.
I do hope it at least amuses.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ladymirth, if no one else...
3. Asorangebeaver pointed out, Michael Jackson has a life-sized sculpture of himself as Batman, and, along with a whole bunch of other stuff... it's currently up for auction. The statue (catalog 4, page 71, item 805) is scheduled for day 4 of the auction (April 24th), which focuses on Disney, superheroes, video games, and general entertainment-related items. According to the main auction page, proceeds will benefit MusiCares. Starting bid for the statue is $200-$300. I expect it'll go for considerably more. (Also... "The catalogues are comprised of a 5 book set in a hard box cover at $100 per set plus shipping and handling. A limited edition catalogue box set, signed and numbered by Michael Jackson, will be available for $500 plus shipping and handling.") You can, if you want, register and bid online.
4. Had a very odd dream last night. What's even stranger is that I remembered most of it when I woke up. Long enough to jot down a bunch of notes before falling back asleep.
I was back at college, I think. I was getting ready to go on a date with a girl named Alanna. (No one I knew in waking life. I did know a girl by that name in elementary school, but I don't think she looked anything like that. A classmate of mine, who turned out to be my roommate's girlfriend, had a similar name with a different pronunciation, but other than the pale blonde hair, there was very little resemblance.) Alanna had long, wavy blonde hair which went well past shoulder-length. She was skinny to the point of bony and had little blonde hairs covering her arms and shoulders. I did not find her particularly attractive, but neither did I find her in any way repulsive. Actually, it seemed like she should be considered at least vaguely attractive by the general public, if not precisely model material. I was flattered and happy that she'd agreed to go out with me. It was to be our first date. She wore a light silk dress with swirls of purple and white. The straps kept slipping down her shoulders, though not in any way that seemed to suggest the dress was about to fall off or anything. Just an annoyance, probably based on the fact that she was a little too skinny for it.
I was getting dressed in a t-shirt. For some reason, it seemed appropriate attire. Perhaps because I've always felt that such casual wear was truer to who I am than anything more formal. Or maybe because we just had generally casual plans. I'm not sure what our plans were, precisely. But I was also packing a bunch of stuff. Extra clothes and various supplies. I don't know why. I wasn't expecting to stay the night with her or anything, but in the dream, it just seemed like something I needed to do. Unfortunately, it was making me late. She was waiting impatiently at the door to my dorm room (which wasn't one I'd ever had in waking life). Somehow, I managed to pack a second backpack inside the first, along with a small silvery bag and some other items.
Finally, I was ready. We walked off together to another building (the dream skipping over the transition). We passed a bathroom, and I realized I needed to use it. She was impatient at yet another delay after I'd already made us late. A little annoyed that I hadn't taken care of that need before. But, still... what can you do? I assured her it'd just be a quick stop.
The bathroom somehow morphed back into my dorm room, even though mentally I still knew it was the bathroom. Mostly. While there, I had to get something out of my backpack. And then found myself frustrated by how long it was taking to repack everything. Couldn't even figure out how I'd gotten all that to fit inside one backpack, especially the second backpack of equal size, which was already full. As I tried to puzzle it out, Mom appeared. I angrily pointed out that this was the men's room, but she didn't back off. She knew I was the only one there, and besides, it was also my dorm room. Or something.
Somehow, we got to talking and I found myself at my computer (again, not one I've ever actually had). I was working online (though, somewhere in the back of my head, I knew Alanna was waiting impatiently outside). I wanted to find a way to build a life-sized town based on old clown jokes. Apparently, there were some old clown skits based at traditional addresses. There was a firehouse which, by long obscure comedic tradition, was always located on Main Street at... was it #33? Or 31? I wasn't sure. Which is why I was online. Trying to look it up on some kind of clown Wiki. While surfing, I also found that there was a Marriott skit which took place at Zero Main (the address of a store on Nantucket, built a block over from the original start of the street) and another one at Negative Six Main Street. One of the two Marriott hotels was, in comedic exaggerated silliness, made of solid gold. This made the prospect of building the actual town even more daunting (though I'd known from the start that it would be far from easy to gather the resources to do it), but it still seemed like such a cool idea.
As I surfed the clown encyclopedia, Mom was looking over my shoulder. I came across a video link. It starred Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert. It was some kind of skit based loosely on Highlander-style fantasy TV. Jon was the good guy, Stephen was the bad guy. They were both in pirate-esque garb, fighting in the streets of an old town in an indeterminate period - a few centuries ago. Mom, to her surprise, enjoyed it. (She likes Jon but hates Stephen.) At some point, as we watched, I moved into Jon's role as the hero. A magic sword and some other item, placed in a secret compartment in the outer wall of one of the town's buildings, produced a magic ring - the object of Evil Pirate Colbert's quest. I/Jon threw a ring to him, to his great evil satisfaction, but secretly I/Jon knew there was a trick. It was the wrong ring (the right one having been surreptitiously pocketed). Or maybe it was the right ring, but its goodly magic would have a very different effect than Colbert expected. I wasn't sure even then, but I was sure that it would come out all right.
The dream moved on. I was back in the bathroom/dorm. Mom left. I went back to trying to repack, but was interrupted by Russell, my evil first roommate (who looked nothing like he did when I knew him in waking life). He claimed that he had changed. Reformed himself. Wanted to make amends for old wrongs/hurts. He also wanted me to try a favorite new treat of his. Treacle. I informed him that it was not a good idea for a diabetic. He shrugged it off, assured me that I could indulge, and justified it by explaining that it wasn't just treacle. It was treacle breakfast cereal. He wanted me to share its happy goodness. I wasn't sure of his sincerity and I wasn't in a good mood anyway. We ended up fighting. Wrestling each other across the room. On the floor. The table. The couch. He put up a good fight, but I always had the better of him, even if only just barely.
I left the room. I don't remember how. But I went back out to Alanna. Ended up giving up on repacking. Realized a short while later that this meant I'd left everything behind, including my wallet and cell phone. Alanna and I changed our plans (whatever they had been to begin with). She took me out for coffee at a school dining hall that served mostly as a coffee shop (again, no real life analog). We were joined there by a mutual friend of ours. No one I can name or describe now, but he gave off a faint impression of Will Riker. Not that he was actually from Star Trek or anything, but he seemed to be that kind of guy, more or less. Or something. I don't know.
The dream skipped ahead. We got up to leave the coffee shop. I could have sworn Alanna had the 10 bucks or so needed to cover the check. But Will went up to the long white folding table by the door (where the cashiers sat, for some reason) and seemed to pay. We left. A skinny black kid in a shabby hoodie came up to ask for a handout. I opened my backpack (which had somehow reappeared) and found it was full of granola bars and packets of peanut butter crackers - diabetic emergency food. I gave him one of each. He took the granola. I tossed him the crackers as well, which he sort of unhappily took. I'm not sure what problem he had with them, but he did take them. He wanted more, though. I told him I'd lost my wallet and his face softened. He walked off, appreciating what I had given him, and headed back towards the coffee shop, in hopes of finding help from some other kind soul.
I caught up with Alanna and Will. We walked down the hall to a sort of mall-like environment, where Will stopped to get something else. He paid for it by handing over some kind of credentials or credits or something that he'd swiped from the cashier in the act of tricking her(?) into believing he'd paid our bill. He mentioned this, in a sort of winking code, to the cashier at the counter of the new store. Evidently, it wasn't the first time he'd done such a thing, and this cashier was a semi-willing conspirator. He told Will that he'd take it for now, but Will had 20 minutes to come up with the real cash. We walked off into the mall.
There was a comic book shop. I happily walked in. Inside was a man in a home-made costume, claiming to be "Crowbar" of the Marvel Comics supervillain team the Wrecking Crew. He looked nothing like a member of said team, but rather like Angstrom Levy, a villain from Invincible. But in the dream, that's what "Crowbar" looked like (and, also, in the dream, "Crowbar" was actually a member of the Wrecking Crew).
Crowbar stood in the middle of the comics shop, semi-playfully threatening people with his magical crowbar (even though his hand was clutched around nothing but thin air). His costume was impressive for an amateur. It was a full body suit, made mostly out of foam rubber in flowing streaks of purple, green, and blue. Including the giant bulging brainy skull. He pretended to clobber another customer, who was dressed as some kind of superhero. The hero, "hit" by the "invisible" crowbar, fell to the floor. Crowbar menaced the crowd (some of whom were entertained, some of whom failed to care).
The menacing gradually seemed to become less playful and more like a real (perhaps somewhat deluded) jerk looking to actually hurt people. I jumped him. We fought. I knocked him down. Some of the foam rubber ripped. I grabbed him by the legs and flung him across the store, hammer-throw style. The foam rubber legs came clean off (leaving his real ones intact, of course).
Confused, I went into the bathroom in the back of the store. "Crowbar," now dressed like a normal person (I knew that his costume had come completely off - he'd either changed into street clothes or had them on underneath), came in, saw me, and was overcome by fury. He looked much more formidable in his new clothes. The short sleeves showed off bulging, Popeye-like forearms (which were covered in short pale blond hairs - though I didn't until now make the connection with Alanna). I had destroyed his costume, ruined his show, and humiliated him in front of everyone. He was not happy. Walking up to me as if he was ready for another fight, he started to tell me off. I was kind of worried about this, but in the back of my head I knew that I'd just trounced him and I figured I could do it again if need be... though this time it looked like it'd be a closer match.
I apologized. I told him I was having a bad day and I hadn't meant to take it out on him, but seemed to have just snapped. I'd lost my wallet and...
He simultaneously started telling me about how he'd had a bad day, too. He'd been out on a date and had taken her to some fancy restaurant and dinner had somehow come to over a thousand dollars and...
We both found ourselves laughing. Just like that, we were friends. Fellow victims of whatever cosmic force had orchestrated our respective days.
I started to tell him my story. At some point in the midst of it, I woke up without noticing even the slightest transition and ended up recounting the dream to myself. I grabbed the notepad I always keep handy and jotted down a page full of notes. And then somehow managed to get back to sleep. If I dreamed again, I don't remember it.
...
Never mind. It's back.
2. New icon:
Thoughts? I'm not quite satisfied with it, but not sure how to finish/improve it.
I do hope it at least amuses.
ladymirth, if no one else...3. As
orangebeaver pointed out, Michael Jackson has a life-sized sculpture of himself as Batman, and, along with a whole bunch of other stuff... it's currently up for auction. The statue (catalog 4, page 71, item 805) is scheduled for day 4 of the auction (April 24th), which focuses on Disney, superheroes, video games, and general entertainment-related items. According to the main auction page, proceeds will benefit MusiCares. Starting bid for the statue is $200-$300. I expect it'll go for considerably more. (Also... "The catalogues are comprised of a 5 book set in a hard box cover at $100 per set plus shipping and handling. A limited edition catalogue box set, signed and numbered by Michael Jackson, will be available for $500 plus shipping and handling.") You can, if you want, register and bid online.4. Had a very odd dream last night. What's even stranger is that I remembered most of it when I woke up. Long enough to jot down a bunch of notes before falling back asleep.
I was back at college, I think. I was getting ready to go on a date with a girl named Alanna. (No one I knew in waking life. I did know a girl by that name in elementary school, but I don't think she looked anything like that. A classmate of mine, who turned out to be my roommate's girlfriend, had a similar name with a different pronunciation, but other than the pale blonde hair, there was very little resemblance.) Alanna had long, wavy blonde hair which went well past shoulder-length. She was skinny to the point of bony and had little blonde hairs covering her arms and shoulders. I did not find her particularly attractive, but neither did I find her in any way repulsive. Actually, it seemed like she should be considered at least vaguely attractive by the general public, if not precisely model material. I was flattered and happy that she'd agreed to go out with me. It was to be our first date. She wore a light silk dress with swirls of purple and white. The straps kept slipping down her shoulders, though not in any way that seemed to suggest the dress was about to fall off or anything. Just an annoyance, probably based on the fact that she was a little too skinny for it.
I was getting dressed in a t-shirt. For some reason, it seemed appropriate attire. Perhaps because I've always felt that such casual wear was truer to who I am than anything more formal. Or maybe because we just had generally casual plans. I'm not sure what our plans were, precisely. But I was also packing a bunch of stuff. Extra clothes and various supplies. I don't know why. I wasn't expecting to stay the night with her or anything, but in the dream, it just seemed like something I needed to do. Unfortunately, it was making me late. She was waiting impatiently at the door to my dorm room (which wasn't one I'd ever had in waking life). Somehow, I managed to pack a second backpack inside the first, along with a small silvery bag and some other items.
Finally, I was ready. We walked off together to another building (the dream skipping over the transition). We passed a bathroom, and I realized I needed to use it. She was impatient at yet another delay after I'd already made us late. A little annoyed that I hadn't taken care of that need before. But, still... what can you do? I assured her it'd just be a quick stop.
The bathroom somehow morphed back into my dorm room, even though mentally I still knew it was the bathroom. Mostly. While there, I had to get something out of my backpack. And then found myself frustrated by how long it was taking to repack everything. Couldn't even figure out how I'd gotten all that to fit inside one backpack, especially the second backpack of equal size, which was already full. As I tried to puzzle it out, Mom appeared. I angrily pointed out that this was the men's room, but she didn't back off. She knew I was the only one there, and besides, it was also my dorm room. Or something.
Somehow, we got to talking and I found myself at my computer (again, not one I've ever actually had). I was working online (though, somewhere in the back of my head, I knew Alanna was waiting impatiently outside). I wanted to find a way to build a life-sized town based on old clown jokes. Apparently, there were some old clown skits based at traditional addresses. There was a firehouse which, by long obscure comedic tradition, was always located on Main Street at... was it #33? Or 31? I wasn't sure. Which is why I was online. Trying to look it up on some kind of clown Wiki. While surfing, I also found that there was a Marriott skit which took place at Zero Main (the address of a store on Nantucket, built a block over from the original start of the street) and another one at Negative Six Main Street. One of the two Marriott hotels was, in comedic exaggerated silliness, made of solid gold. This made the prospect of building the actual town even more daunting (though I'd known from the start that it would be far from easy to gather the resources to do it), but it still seemed like such a cool idea.
As I surfed the clown encyclopedia, Mom was looking over my shoulder. I came across a video link. It starred Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert. It was some kind of skit based loosely on Highlander-style fantasy TV. Jon was the good guy, Stephen was the bad guy. They were both in pirate-esque garb, fighting in the streets of an old town in an indeterminate period - a few centuries ago. Mom, to her surprise, enjoyed it. (She likes Jon but hates Stephen.) At some point, as we watched, I moved into Jon's role as the hero. A magic sword and some other item, placed in a secret compartment in the outer wall of one of the town's buildings, produced a magic ring - the object of Evil Pirate Colbert's quest. I/Jon threw a ring to him, to his great evil satisfaction, but secretly I/Jon knew there was a trick. It was the wrong ring (the right one having been surreptitiously pocketed). Or maybe it was the right ring, but its goodly magic would have a very different effect than Colbert expected. I wasn't sure even then, but I was sure that it would come out all right.
The dream moved on. I was back in the bathroom/dorm. Mom left. I went back to trying to repack, but was interrupted by Russell, my evil first roommate (who looked nothing like he did when I knew him in waking life). He claimed that he had changed. Reformed himself. Wanted to make amends for old wrongs/hurts. He also wanted me to try a favorite new treat of his. Treacle. I informed him that it was not a good idea for a diabetic. He shrugged it off, assured me that I could indulge, and justified it by explaining that it wasn't just treacle. It was treacle breakfast cereal. He wanted me to share its happy goodness. I wasn't sure of his sincerity and I wasn't in a good mood anyway. We ended up fighting. Wrestling each other across the room. On the floor. The table. The couch. He put up a good fight, but I always had the better of him, even if only just barely.
I left the room. I don't remember how. But I went back out to Alanna. Ended up giving up on repacking. Realized a short while later that this meant I'd left everything behind, including my wallet and cell phone. Alanna and I changed our plans (whatever they had been to begin with). She took me out for coffee at a school dining hall that served mostly as a coffee shop (again, no real life analog). We were joined there by a mutual friend of ours. No one I can name or describe now, but he gave off a faint impression of Will Riker. Not that he was actually from Star Trek or anything, but he seemed to be that kind of guy, more or less. Or something. I don't know.
The dream skipped ahead. We got up to leave the coffee shop. I could have sworn Alanna had the 10 bucks or so needed to cover the check. But Will went up to the long white folding table by the door (where the cashiers sat, for some reason) and seemed to pay. We left. A skinny black kid in a shabby hoodie came up to ask for a handout. I opened my backpack (which had somehow reappeared) and found it was full of granola bars and packets of peanut butter crackers - diabetic emergency food. I gave him one of each. He took the granola. I tossed him the crackers as well, which he sort of unhappily took. I'm not sure what problem he had with them, but he did take them. He wanted more, though. I told him I'd lost my wallet and his face softened. He walked off, appreciating what I had given him, and headed back towards the coffee shop, in hopes of finding help from some other kind soul.
I caught up with Alanna and Will. We walked down the hall to a sort of mall-like environment, where Will stopped to get something else. He paid for it by handing over some kind of credentials or credits or something that he'd swiped from the cashier in the act of tricking her(?) into believing he'd paid our bill. He mentioned this, in a sort of winking code, to the cashier at the counter of the new store. Evidently, it wasn't the first time he'd done such a thing, and this cashier was a semi-willing conspirator. He told Will that he'd take it for now, but Will had 20 minutes to come up with the real cash. We walked off into the mall.
There was a comic book shop. I happily walked in. Inside was a man in a home-made costume, claiming to be "Crowbar" of the Marvel Comics supervillain team the Wrecking Crew. He looked nothing like a member of said team, but rather like Angstrom Levy, a villain from Invincible. But in the dream, that's what "Crowbar" looked like (and, also, in the dream, "Crowbar" was actually a member of the Wrecking Crew).
Crowbar stood in the middle of the comics shop, semi-playfully threatening people with his magical crowbar (even though his hand was clutched around nothing but thin air). His costume was impressive for an amateur. It was a full body suit, made mostly out of foam rubber in flowing streaks of purple, green, and blue. Including the giant bulging brainy skull. He pretended to clobber another customer, who was dressed as some kind of superhero. The hero, "hit" by the "invisible" crowbar, fell to the floor. Crowbar menaced the crowd (some of whom were entertained, some of whom failed to care).
The menacing gradually seemed to become less playful and more like a real (perhaps somewhat deluded) jerk looking to actually hurt people. I jumped him. We fought. I knocked him down. Some of the foam rubber ripped. I grabbed him by the legs and flung him across the store, hammer-throw style. The foam rubber legs came clean off (leaving his real ones intact, of course).
Confused, I went into the bathroom in the back of the store. "Crowbar," now dressed like a normal person (I knew that his costume had come completely off - he'd either changed into street clothes or had them on underneath), came in, saw me, and was overcome by fury. He looked much more formidable in his new clothes. The short sleeves showed off bulging, Popeye-like forearms (which were covered in short pale blond hairs - though I didn't until now make the connection with Alanna). I had destroyed his costume, ruined his show, and humiliated him in front of everyone. He was not happy. Walking up to me as if he was ready for another fight, he started to tell me off. I was kind of worried about this, but in the back of my head I knew that I'd just trounced him and I figured I could do it again if need be... though this time it looked like it'd be a closer match.
I apologized. I told him I was having a bad day and I hadn't meant to take it out on him, but seemed to have just snapped. I'd lost my wallet and...
He simultaneously started telling me about how he'd had a bad day, too. He'd been out on a date and had taken her to some fancy restaurant and dinner had somehow come to over a thousand dollars and...
We both found ourselves laughing. Just like that, we were friends. Fellow victims of whatever cosmic force had orchestrated our respective days.
I started to tell him my story. At some point in the midst of it, I woke up without noticing even the slightest transition and ended up recounting the dream to myself. I grabbed the notepad I always keep handy and jotted down a page full of notes. And then somehow managed to get back to sleep. If I dreamed again, I don't remember it.
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From:
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2. had to look it up to be sure, but still lolz.
3. so wait... they're selling the catalogues of the stuff they're selling? did i read that right?
4. wow, that's a complicated dream to remember so many details. i'm rather impressed, lol.
From:
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Yes. Souvenir catalogs. Free online, but the spiffy print version that comes as several volumes in a collector's box costs money. Which I guess makes sense on some level. But still... yes, they're selling catalogs of the stuff for sale.
As for the dream... I wouldn't have remembered it except that I immediately wrote a page full of notes. It's very unusual for me to remember my dreams. For me to even remember that I did dream. So when I woke up out of this one, I rushed for the pad to capture everything before it slipped away. (In the rare instances when I do remember a dream, the memory generally fades within 5 minutes, no matter how hard I try to hold on to it.)