<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503</id><updated>2011-10-01T08:09:18.063-07:00</updated><category term='Friends'/><category term='Me'/><category term='Johnny'/><category term='Events'/><category term='Family'/><title type='text'>Interpret The Dream</title><subtitle type='html'>My nightlife is really quite active, complicated and exciting! It's just a shame i sleep right through it!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-8964375431775192657</id><published>2011-10-01T07:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-01T08:09:18.141-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We went to look at a house that was a lot bigger than ours [we are looking to sell and buy elsewhere in the same town] It needed a bit of work, but we were prepared to 'buy down'. John &amp;amp; i were amoungst a buying party - a group of people interested in the same property. There were a couple of stair cases and at the top of one of them, was a doorways that you had to lean into sideways to get into a room. A really big kids bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;When we'd finished looking around the house, i went to use the loo. When i was washing my hands afterwards, i looked at myself in the mirror and noticed one of my front teeth had fallen out &amp;amp; all the rest were jagged and hollow. It was gross!&lt;br /&gt;But John still loved me and thought i was gorgeous Aawwwwww&lt;br /&gt;We were the last ones to leave and the owners were getting pushy for us to leave because they wanted to get stoned. The more impatient they got, the worse the house started to look. Like thier impatience was uncovering patch up jobs they'd done on the house.&lt;br /&gt;When we walked outside, we realised that the house was closer to the highway than our current house is, so we couldn't live there anyway.&lt;br /&gt;We took one of thier cars to leave with. Then we left it someone and called a towtruck. We hoped the cops would be called and the house people would get busted for drugs.&lt;br /&gt;And thats it&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-8964375431775192657?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/8964375431775192657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=8964375431775192657' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/8964375431775192657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/8964375431775192657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2011/10/we-went-to-look-at-house-that-was-lot.html' title=''/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-155938958399203800</id><published>2010-09-12T18:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T18:51:49.559-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Flossy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TI1_ZwMVvCI/AAAAAAAAFjk/-xb_1hJsrcc/s1600/2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516205199008840738" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TI1_ZwMVvCI/AAAAAAAAFjk/-xb_1hJsrcc/s400/2.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Flossy,  a few hours before she died&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt; The best cat we've ever had [Flossy] died in a car accident earlier this year. She didn't get on very well with our old, grumpy cat [Lotus]. But she got on with the dogs for the most part. She was so full of character and life. When she died, if effected me really badly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night i dreamt about her for the first time. She came back into our lives as if she'd never left. We even made jokes about her clawing her way out of her grave. She followed Lotus around and made him feel uncomfortable, as she always did. And let Rose hold her in silly ways. But i  took heaps of photos of her, and not one turned out. When i pressed the 'back' button on the camera, it would just show the last photo i took before Flossy. Someone said there was something not-quite-right about her. [but it wasn't like Stephen Kings Pet Cemetery]&lt;br /&gt;It's like she wasn't really there and we were all sharing in the delusion.&lt;br /&gt;I woke up before a conclusion, which i would have really appreciated seen as i'm still mourning for her :o/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-155938958399203800?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/155938958399203800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=155938958399203800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/155938958399203800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/155938958399203800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2010/09/flossy.html' title='Flossy'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TI1_ZwMVvCI/AAAAAAAAFjk/-xb_1hJsrcc/s72-c/2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-4715208205772125566</id><published>2010-09-03T23:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-03T23:53:34.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Illusions</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TIHhaqBKr8I/AAAAAAAAFjE/cP-zaVT8fJE/s1600/dali-illusion.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 324px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 360px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512935266950229954" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TIHhaqBKr8I/AAAAAAAAFjE/cP-zaVT8fJE/s400/dali-illusion.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Daniel [my new grandson we've been looking after since birth] was my son and i was in hospital with him, in the children's ward. John and the kids would come and visit, and we'd go to the common area to spend time together. And i'd feed Daniel etc. One day, while in my hospital room, my doctor came in and told me that i was being scheduled for an artery operation on the left side of my neck because there was future blockage possibilities. I freaked out and confided in my doctor that i'm weird with meat [this is true in reality] I hate the look and feel of meat. And if i see a vein in anything, i can't eat that meat for months to come! So being told i need this operation forces me to think of myself as meat &amp;amp; with veins in my neck. That causes a bit of a panic.&lt;br /&gt;I asked about John and the kids: what would they do while i was in hospital for the duration of the recovery from the surgery? He asked who john and the kids were. i told him they were the ones that had been visiting Daniel and i in hospital. He asked who Daniel was.....&lt;br /&gt;He then tried to tell me that i was in hospital alone, awaiting surgery, and i had no family.&lt;br /&gt;I started to panic then. Why would this doctor lie to me about that? But why would i imagine my whole life?&lt;br /&gt;So the doctor took me back to my house. It was the family home that i remembered living a family life. But it was baron with evidence of living a fantasy life. The walls weren't painted the bright, happy colours i remembered. There was minimal things in the house. A few old toys that i had remembered as a brilliant toy room. A run down kitchen with a few utensils that i had remembered as a lively family hub. A lounge room with a milk crate and ripped curtain, that i had remembered as a lazy family TV room.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't understand where it had all gone. How could i live a whole life and imagine the people i loved, each and every day?&lt;br /&gt;But what i saw was the truth. I knew it was the truth and not just a trick. As soon as it had been brought to my attention, i knew it was the truth.&lt;br /&gt;My whole world and everything i treasured was a lie.&lt;br /&gt;I was taken back to the hospital to await my surgery. I felt so alone that my life seemed like a big black hole, with absolutely no future what-so-ever.&lt;br /&gt;No Johnny&lt;br /&gt;No Rosie&lt;br /&gt;No Jason&lt;br /&gt;And no Daniel&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-4715208205772125566?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/4715208205772125566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=4715208205772125566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/4715208205772125566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/4715208205772125566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2010/09/daniel-my-new-grandson-weve-been.html' title='Illusions'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TIHhaqBKr8I/AAAAAAAAFjE/cP-zaVT8fJE/s72-c/dali-illusion.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-21719359801803989</id><published>2010-05-16T03:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T06:04:36.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weird Moon</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/S-_CmPXGObI/AAAAAAAAFTw/1lreF7AON6k/s1600/jacob-black-shirtless.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 364px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471806034492668338" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/S-_CmPXGObI/AAAAAAAAFTw/1lreF7AON6k/s400/jacob-black-shirtless.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Last night i dreamed about Jacob Black from Twilight. I LOVE the Twilight books! And i although i think the Bella/Edward affair is the greatest love story ever, i've always had a soft spot for Jacob. I think the character is an awesome one and even though i don't really think Jacob is that attractive, the pic above is way too hot!!!&lt;br /&gt; So last night i dreamed about him, but it was like a counterfeit Jacob. It was him, but not really, though I dunno how that worked.&lt;br /&gt;I can't remember how i met him, it was at someones place and there were lots of people there. We were kinda pushed together as friends, and we sat together while other people were talking or while watching tele etc. At one point he leaned against me while we were watching tele, and i felt really comfortable with that, but a little awkward at the same time. It was nice.&lt;br /&gt;Then something happened to cause the police to be on their way, and everyone scattered. Jacob and i took off together, through the dark night time streets that were wet coz it had been raining.&lt;br /&gt;We were trying to get back to our house. We both shape-shifted, him into a dog and me into a cat, so we could run and not get noticed. The police nearly caught up to us behind a shop and so we swapped shapes [i turned into a dog, and he, a cat] to confuse the police.&lt;br /&gt;We got back to our place, which was an upstairs old 1920's apartment building. We lived in flats opposite each other. We changed back into people but to swap our animal characters back we had to do this weird thing: Outside our flats was a toaster each. We had to put bread in a toaster, wait for it to pop up, put a bowl on the floor, and the person had to be at the toaster within a curtain time to get their shape back. So i put Jacobs bread in the toaster but when the toast popped up, my dog Buddy jumped up and took a bite out of it, causing Jacob to vanish.&lt;br /&gt;This really bothered me, it was a real loss. At every opportunity i put a new bit of bread in the toaster, hoping that it would bring Jacob back, But it never worked. I even hung out in his flat at times, trying to be closer to him. His walls were covered in black posters of various bands and movies. Anthrax, Metallica, Scarface, The Godfather etc. And he had lots of pot plants.&lt;br /&gt;I went through old photos of me because i thought the answer to getting him back might have been in one of them. My family came over while i was sorting through photos and i couldn't tell them what i was doing, or about the toast thing, because they would think i was nuts. I went for a walk somewhere and when i came back, i looked at Jacobs flat windows, trying to find the answer there. Then i woke up.&lt;br /&gt;All day i've felt that strange loss. We were going to watch New Moon [again] tonight, but i decided not to, coz i felt weird about that dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-21719359801803989?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/21719359801803989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=21719359801803989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/21719359801803989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/21719359801803989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2010/05/weird-moon.html' title='Weird Moon'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/S-_CmPXGObI/AAAAAAAAFTw/1lreF7AON6k/s72-c/jacob-black-shirtless.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-1844935021608576636</id><published>2009-12-15T02:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T05:12:37.454-08:00</updated><title type='text'>There Should Be A Bana On That!</title><content type='html'>Ok, so i haven't been here a while. I have a weird dream then tell someone [who isn't interested]. I mean to write it here[for other people who aren't interested lol] but if i leave it too long, i forget.&lt;br /&gt;But this one was really exciting, because it was about Eric Bana [The Hulk, Black Hawk Down, Troy, Troy, The Castle, Star Trek, The Time Travelers Wife, Funny People, and the comedy series Fast Forward]and i think he's the sexiest man in the world, so i won't forget in a hurry :o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SydpjIGNECI/AAAAAAAAE3g/0-0Bx3XLPqw/s1600-h/tn2_eric_bana_4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 290px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415413129126154274" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SydpjIGNECI/AAAAAAAAE3g/0-0Bx3XLPqw/s400/tn2_eric_bana_4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; John and i went to a concert thing. When we walked in, i noticed that a group of Australian comedians were performing on stage, some kind of skit. Eric bana was one of them [In fact he's the only one i really noticed]&lt;br /&gt;Somehow John and i got separated while trying to find our seats. From the crowd i saw where he was sitting, but was a bit annoyed that he didn't even notice that i wasn't with him.&lt;br /&gt;So i went out to the foyer and waited for him to come looking for me. I went outside and it had been snowing a lot. I had bare feet and yet the snow wasn't making them that cold. My hands were freezing though! There was a couple of guys sitting outside that i didn't like the look of, so i went back into the foyer. John wasn't looking for me, so i popped my head around the corner to see where he was sitting, and he was enjoying the show. Still seemingly oblivious to my absence. So i just stayed in the foyer until the show was over. When it was over though, i moved over to the furtherest wall and stood against it as the crowd moved past me. When everyone had gone, i noticed the actors were getting ready to leave, down by the stage. They were just waiting for Eric. I walked over to them, and even though i was looking at them, they didn't really have any faces. More like paper masks [made of skin] with little beady, flat eyes.&lt;br /&gt;One of them asked what i was doing, just as Eric walked out from behind the stage. I said, "Mr Bana, would you mind if i had my photo taken with you?" [I thought about adding that i was asking coz i'd missed the show, but didn't] He smiled and walked toward me, saying "Sure!" I gave one of the other guys my camera, and Eric put his arm around me to pose. I smelt beer on his breath and i figured they'd had a pre-drink drink after the show. His arm was warm and it felt really comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all there was. I've always fancied Eric, ever since he started his acting career. He's just all 'round awesome! John won't even watch a movie with him in it coz he knows i'll just be perving the whole time!&lt;br /&gt;When he was making his movie about his car, a friend of mine met him at his car dealership. He didn't know that i drool over Eric, but i was still fuming that i wasn't told that he was going to be there so i could meet him. It STILL pisses me off to think of! lol&lt;br /&gt;I've never dreamed of Eric, so last night was nice. I woke up with a smiley sigh :o)&lt;br /&gt;In my dream, i hope John got run over in the parking lot lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-1844935021608576636?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/1844935021608576636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=1844935021608576636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/1844935021608576636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/1844935021608576636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2009/12/ok-so-i-havent-been-here-while.html' title='There Should Be A Bana On That!'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SydpjIGNECI/AAAAAAAAE3g/0-0Bx3XLPqw/s72-c/tn2_eric_bana_4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-3146472081518024515</id><published>2009-08-10T20:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T21:12:31.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>MA15+?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SoDqGoaV6zI/AAAAAAAAEqM/LxawbU7cFdo/s1600-h/vibe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368548155473652530" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SoDqGoaV6zI/AAAAAAAAEqM/LxawbU7cFdo/s400/vibe.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The night before last i had a series of weird dreams. I should have put them here yesterday. But i didn't, and now i've forgotten too much, so i'll just write about the oddest one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was picking up stuff in the lounge room, when a commercial came on tele, One of those infomercials, about a new massaging device that every home needs! A white palm sized vibrator, just like the one in the add above. I found this very amusing because it was obviously a basic vibrator that can be purchased at any sex shop. And as the models on tele demonstrated how to use it by massaging the tense spots on their own necks and backs with the cheap, white vibrators. I sat on the couch to watch the commercial with great amusement and giggled randomly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that dream came from me and a freind talking about checking out a sex shop in the next town during the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;Before doing this post, i did an image search for "Funny vibrator" to put at the top of the post. I was really surprised to find the add. Maybe my mum was telling the truth when i found one of those under her mattress while making her bed, when i was 12, and she said it was for massaging her broken tail bone when i bought it out and asked her what it was :o)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-3146472081518024515?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/3146472081518024515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=3146472081518024515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/3146472081518024515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/3146472081518024515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2009/08/ma15.html' title='MA15+?'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SoDqGoaV6zI/AAAAAAAAEqM/LxawbU7cFdo/s72-c/vibe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-6962634631590716852</id><published>2009-04-05T19:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T02:52:49.210-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Me'/><title type='text'>Unnecessary Assetts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/Sdhs5zqntsI/AAAAAAAAETQ/EG7552L0rg8/s1600-h/convert.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321122700115556034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/Sdhs5zqntsI/AAAAAAAAETQ/EG7552L0rg8/s400/convert.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; I went to see our local car mechanic/used car guy [Steve] and he had an old roadster convertible that he'd just put out on the lot to sell. It looked like the above pic, but a compact 2 seater 60's car that i can't find a pic of.&lt;br /&gt;I told him i'd take it and he took it home for me.&lt;br /&gt;But then i realised that i hadn't got any info about the car before i bought it.&lt;br /&gt;I hadn't asked how much it was.&lt;br /&gt;When was the rego due?&lt;br /&gt;Was there any flaws in the car?&lt;br /&gt;I hadn't even taken it for a test drive!&lt;br /&gt;All the important stuff!&lt;br /&gt;I hung around the workshop to talk to Steve about that stuff, but he was really busy and i had to wait around for a while [with the kids]. When i Finlay saw him, he told me the car was 3 grand. Rego was due this coming Wednesday [today] but he'll pay for all of it because the motor in the car had actually been dropped before being put in the car, so he'll compensate for that by paying the rego [$500]&lt;br /&gt;I was pleased with that, and i hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, lots of times. He told me not to kiss him on the cheek so much, and i was a bit disappointed about that coz he looked a bit cuter than he usually did lol&lt;br /&gt;He asked what i was going to do with my other car [The Celica i absolutely adore in reality!] I hadn't even thought about that.&lt;br /&gt;But i said i was going to keep that too for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When i got home, i told John about the car. And about how i hadn't even found out anything about it before. He told me off before following me out to see it.&lt;br /&gt;But in the car park, the car was actually a little old UFO that looks like a car off The Jetsons. Apparently when you lock it up, it turns into a UFO looking thing for looks.&lt;br /&gt;John and i talked about weather to take it back to Steve and say we don't want it, or keep it and try selling it. I think we decided to keep it.&lt;br /&gt;Then the dream went off on some other bizarre tangent......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-6962634631590716852?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/6962634631590716852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=6962634631590716852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/6962634631590716852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/6962634631590716852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2009/04/unnecessary-assetts.html' title='Unnecessary Assetts'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/Sdhs5zqntsI/AAAAAAAAETQ/EG7552L0rg8/s72-c/convert.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-2823876247022686568</id><published>2009-02-05T23:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T04:16:51.725-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Me'/><title type='text'>Start Darn it!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SYrXu4YeYMI/AAAAAAAAEFc/3ukVfDEgkaE/s1600-h/mower.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299285111963803842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 395px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SYrXu4YeYMI/AAAAAAAAEFc/3ukVfDEgkaE/s400/mower.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The other night i was dreaming about the lawnmower. John can start it ok, and Rose can start it ok, But i can't. In my dream it bothered me and i was trying really hard to start it. Then i woke up because i knocked my bedside lamp over, while pulling the mower chord lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-2823876247022686568?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/2823876247022686568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=2823876247022686568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/2823876247022686568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/2823876247022686568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2009/02/start-darn-it.html' title='Start Darn it!'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SYrXu4YeYMI/AAAAAAAAEFc/3ukVfDEgkaE/s72-c/mower.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-31290194195300530</id><published>2009-01-19T19:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T00:54:49.758-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Me'/><title type='text'>Driving By The Pool</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SXQ5Zw7aJPI/AAAAAAAAEBo/9aQF-XbR6Y4/s1600-h/Car1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292918576860767474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 243px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SXQ5Zw7aJPI/AAAAAAAAEBo/9aQF-XbR6Y4/s400/Car1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; This is a picture of my beautiful car that i love as though it were a part of me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Last night i dreamt that i swapped her with a friends [T] car because i wanted a change. I went over it and showed T the little things about my car that only know about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I regretted the swap as soon as i'd done it, but i thought i better go to bed [We were sleeping at T's house] and sleep on it. I tossed and turned all night, kicking myself over what i'd done. I got up at first light and ran downstairs, crying, to renig on the deal. T was getting her kids ready for school and they were just walking out the door. I told T that i had to take my car back and i was looking for the keys. She said, "Is this about the news last night?" When i gestured that i didn't know what she was talking about, she turned the tele on. And there was a news item showing her hubby [J] in thier pool, getting drunk with a bunch of their mates, and someone was driving my car into the pool behind him!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I ran outside, and there in the sparkling clear water in the bright morning sun, was my car in the middle of the pool. I rushed over to her and pushed her out as much as i could. I got the bonnet just out of the water so i figured it was ok to start. So i turned the key and she started first turn, but i couldn't drive her out of the water completely. As she moved, there were little fish like leaches where she had been. I kept trying to drive her but the edge of the water kept moving away from me. Before long we were driving down the street which was covered in water.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then some of J's friends from the night before saw me and tried to catch up to me in their own cars, trying to get the car back. Eventually i lost them and drove back to T's. All their friends were back there and they were partying again. I snuck in the house....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And that's where i woke up :o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-31290194195300530?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/31290194195300530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=31290194195300530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/31290194195300530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/31290194195300530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2009/01/driving-by-pool.html' title='Driving By The Pool'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SXQ5Zw7aJPI/AAAAAAAAEBo/9aQF-XbR6Y4/s72-c/Car1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-2287716705023090490</id><published>2009-01-18T03:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T03:21:18.685-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I just spend nearly an hour blogging about an awesome dream and blogger didn't auto save it and it didn't post. I am a tad annoyed at that! lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-2287716705023090490?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/2287716705023090490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=2287716705023090490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/2287716705023090490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/2287716705023090490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-just-spend-nearly-hour-blogging-about.html' title=''/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-8867336653226306389</id><published>2009-01-10T19:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T00:03:41.049-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Me'/><title type='text'>Hello?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SWhVVujQUyI/AAAAAAAAD7E/2jIELg_N2UI/s1600-h/rotary-cell-phone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289571594108162850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 263px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SWhVVujQUyI/AAAAAAAAD7E/2jIELg_N2UI/s400/rotary-cell-phone.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Yesterday morning i was woken up by the phone next to my bed. But i didn't really wake up, the noise just got &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Incorporated&lt;/span&gt; into my dream. But i was aware of reaching over as if to pick up the phone, putting my [empty] hand to my ear, and saying, "Hello?". It was the sound of me saying "Hello" that really woke me up, and i really answered the phone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;How odd &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-8867336653226306389?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/8867336653226306389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=8867336653226306389' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/8867336653226306389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/8867336653226306389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2009/01/yesterday-morning-i-was-woken-up-by.html' title='Hello?'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SWhVVujQUyI/AAAAAAAAD7E/2jIELg_N2UI/s72-c/rotary-cell-phone.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-7222712732703100566</id><published>2008-12-24T18:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T23:03:10.083-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>A Rose By Any Other...Form?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SVHXW2VOlAI/AAAAAAAAD48/-E-ueXdXvpQ/s1600-h/RIMG0346.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283240625423946754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SVHXW2VOlAI/AAAAAAAAD48/-E-ueXdXvpQ/s400/RIMG0346.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;--,--'--@&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In this dream, my oldest daughter, Alix, was living with us. And all was good. We'd had a party and everyone had left so we went to bed [John was working night shift and i dunno where Jason was] The girls slept in my bed, as is the ritual when John works nights. Alix lay across the end of the bed, Rose was on my side of the bed, and i was in Johns spot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The light was off but there was a nice glow from the bedroom window.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;We were chatting happily when we heard a noise like a wimper coming from a little storage room just outside the bathroom. I told Alix to go have a look and when she came back she said, "Mum, you're not going to believe this, but there's another Rose in that room!" I didn't really believe her, but i didn't really not believe her either. So i said, "Go and get her then." So she did. She bought her in and we all looked at her. I said, "Just put her in the bed next to me." [so i was in between the Roses. Does that make me a thorn? lol]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Rose didn't feel threatened by this other Rose [Let's call her Rose2?] Both Roses looked just like Rose did when she was about 6, Cute with a little bob haircut. But Rose was 12 in the dream, Rose2 was not. Yet they were exactly the same.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Rose2 started to change as she lay there looking at me. Her hair grew longer and browner. Her eyes grew browner too. She eventualy looked nothing like Rose but she still was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I called John and said, "John, You're not going to believe this, but..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And he told me to get my car keys and his car keys. I need to go to sleep with one set of keys, mine if i want Rose to be the only Rose still here in the morning. And his keys if i want Rose2 to be the only Rose. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Rose is the apple of my eye [in reality] and i knew both these Roses were my Rose, so i had to think hard. If Rose stayed, life would carry on as normal in the morning. But if Rose2 stayed, because she was a little younger, i'd miss the stuff that Rose and i had lived till now. But who can chose between two equally awesome kids?!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I was just swaying toward keeping "now" Rose with me when my alarm went off :o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-7222712732703100566?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/7222712732703100566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=7222712732703100566' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/7222712732703100566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/7222712732703100566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2008/12/in-this-dream-my-oldest-daughter-alix.html' title='A Rose By Any Other...Form?'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SVHXW2VOlAI/AAAAAAAAD48/-E-ueXdXvpQ/s72-c/RIMG0346.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-219831604959305242</id><published>2008-11-15T11:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T16:04:38.917-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Events'/><title type='text'>Targeting The Lost</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SR4I08TX6dI/AAAAAAAADwc/_qgVFwKKq54/s1600-h/carpark.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268658319703665106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 352px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SR4I08TX6dI/AAAAAAAADwc/_qgVFwKKq54/s400/carpark.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Last night i had a dream about a [real] school excursion that's coming up at the kids school where we are going to a place 4 hours away and us parents are all following each other down there in our cars so no-one gets lost.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So in this dream i was driving but i was the only one in the car. The kids were in someone elses car for some reason. I was last in the line of traveling cars, and when i got 2 towns over, Lithgow, i got sidetracked and ended up at a Target shopping centre car park that doubled as a security checkpoint, like at an airport. The car park had roads with arrows that went everywhere and i was getting lost. I came to a car park attendant who gave me a parking ticket and told me where to go to get out of the car park [and it was all very complicated] So i decided to leave my car there and take Johns car from there on so that i could concentrate on driving and getting out of there rather than spending all my time thinking about changing gears [coz my car is a manual/stick shift]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then i got to a part in the car park where Rochelle [My sister] was standing outside her car. I asked how long she'd been there [She was one of the parents that was traveling with us. And that's bizarre coz she doesn't even live near me] She said she'd just got there and that everyone was there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So then we all had to go through a checkpoint to make sure we weren't traveling with anything we shouldn't be. I found a room where people had dumped items they thought may be questionable. I had a look through some of it and took some stuff. Like a cloth handbag full of fire crackers. And a white rectangle cane basket full of newspapers from different countries that looked like good reads for the trip. A painted rock with a bead on a string and when you twang the string the bead makes music, and a few other bits and pieces.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Someone said that i might be lucky and get a checking person who is kinda lapse. But i looked over to were bags were being checked and the lady was being kinda thorough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So i searched through the bags, looking for my own. And i made a mess of everyone elses bags and mixed things up a bit and even lost some things, causing some people to get upset. I didn't let on it was me who'd rummaged through their things though :o/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;After finding my bag, i got rid of the fire crackers because i knew they'd definitely not be let through! [they are illegal in our state] and i went through the basket of magazines to make sure there was nothing hidden in there, like child porn [Eh???]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then once i was as sure as i could be about not having anything questionable, i looked over at my car that was parked and decided I'll swap Johns car back for mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then i realised i had about 20 parking tickets and i couldn't find mine in amongst them. If i couldn't produce my ticket, i couldn't get my car back! As i looked at the tickets, the writing on them got &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;smaller&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;smaller&lt;/span&gt; until it was really hard to make out what each ticket said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Eventually i found mine and put it in my pocket. Every so often i took it out to double check that it was mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And that's where the dream ended.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-219831604959305242?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/219831604959305242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=219831604959305242' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/219831604959305242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/219831604959305242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2008/11/last-night-i-had-dream-about-real.html' title='Targeting The Lost'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SR4I08TX6dI/AAAAAAAADwc/_qgVFwKKq54/s72-c/carpark.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-3711108063048777534</id><published>2008-11-11T04:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T04:44:17.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I've had very little blogging time of late. Haveing a blog about dreams means that i have to record the details as soon as i get out of bed  otherwise i forget. I've had some awesome and terrible dreams since the last post, just no time to add them. But i'll be back :o)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-3711108063048777534?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/3711108063048777534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=3711108063048777534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/3711108063048777534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/3711108063048777534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2008/11/ive-had-very-little-blogging-time-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-7010883598959246361</id><published>2008-08-20T18:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T01:40:50.477-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SKvVWgCRsbI/AAAAAAAACkA/DXQ0DKaJh2w/s1600-h/timetunnel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236513574281654706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SKvVWgCRsbI/AAAAAAAACkA/DXQ0DKaJh2w/s400/timetunnel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; I have a re-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;accruing&lt;/span&gt; dream. It's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bizarre&lt;/span&gt; and yet it makes sense. In this dream i have a choice - I could go back in time and yet i would have the same wisdom or knowledge that i have now - To the time i had Alix, my oldest daughter.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;If i could do that, i could change the course of history with Alix, and things would be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; different and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; much better!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;BUT, if i did that, i probably wouldn't have Rose, my second daughter who i can see being my best &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Friend&lt;/span&gt; through life, because i couldn't stand to stay with her dead-beat father.[And probably sacrifice having Jason with John as well]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So, would i go back in time and change my relationship with Alix? Or leave things the way they are with Alix [really bad] and have this awesome relationship with Rose? [And Jason/John]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;It's a tough call, and it pops up in my dreams all the time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There's only one thing i know for sure 100% in this time travel thing. I would &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; know how to stay thin, and do it! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-7010883598959246361?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/7010883598959246361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=7010883598959246361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/7010883598959246361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/7010883598959246361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-have-re-accruing-dream.html' title=''/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SKvVWgCRsbI/AAAAAAAACkA/DXQ0DKaJh2w/s72-c/timetunnel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-2060484804372469497</id><published>2008-08-14T14:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T21:32:04.402-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Children Of The Creepiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SKOtp6R-6tI/AAAAAAAACiw/Pmulav8aq0Q/s1600-h/the-omen-damien-crosses.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234218127465573074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SKOtp6R-6tI/AAAAAAAACiw/Pmulav8aq0Q/s400/the-omen-damien-crosses.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; I don't watch horror movies or movies where kids get hurt, so i don't know where this dream came from!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In this dream i had a son who was just plain evil! He was about 4yo and would just sit and stare, waiting for an opportunity to try and hurt me or anyone who came to the house [It was just me and the boy who lived together] He never spoke.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;His bedroom was just across the hall from my room, and whenever i turned my light on at night, i would see his beady little eyes staring at me in the dim light that filled his room. I would turn the light off, wait a minute, turn the light back on, and he would be a bit closer, just staring.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;All very creepy! But i wasn't scared of him, we just co-existed together. Despite the fact that he'd stabbed me several times over time!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then a woman and her daughter [who was about 4 as well] moved in with us. The woman was scared of the boy so she and her daughter slept in my room with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He kept trying to stab them and one night i distracted him so the woman and her daughter could get away out the front door. He caught on to them escaping though and i had to restrain him [while he had a great big knife mind you] while they got away. The woman said she wouldn't come back till i dealt with the boy, and i knew the only way i could do that was to kill him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The problem with that is that no court could possibly understand why i had to kill this child. I would go to jail for a lifetime for killing him and be branded a child killer, when i would actually be saving society from a mass murderer! So i went to his room, [which i never went into] and i found that he was actually cloning himself. There was a set of bunks and on the top was a sleeping baby of himself, about 6 months old. And on the bottom bunk was a boy about 8 years old [of himself]. [3 life sentences].&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;They were both just as evil as the 4yo. But the 8yo spoke and he wanted me to do something but i can't remember what. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'd have to start by killing the baby, so i told the 8yo that if he waited a minute, I'll climb in next to him so we can talk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then i killed the baby by suffocating him in his sleep. [It was very graphic and i won't go into it because i imagine it would be just like that. It didn't bother me in my dream because it was something that had to be done. But when i woke up i felt horrible that i could dream something like that!]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then i knelt down to look at the 8yo [who had no idea what had just happened] and said, "Do i look different now?" And he said that i did. I got into bed with him as promised, and he started talking about fencing [building fences] ......and that's where it ended.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-2060484804372469497?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/2060484804372469497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=2060484804372469497' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/2060484804372469497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/2060484804372469497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-dont-watch-horror-movies-or-movies.html' title='Children Of The Creepiness'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SKOtp6R-6tI/AAAAAAAACiw/Pmulav8aq0Q/s72-c/the-omen-damien-crosses.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-961828593677116984</id><published>2008-08-11T16:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T23:31:14.351-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life On The Rocks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SJ_WNjYWK7I/AAAAAAAACiY/fy-HCgmIV9s/s1600-h/house1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233136820351806386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SJ_WNjYWK7I/AAAAAAAACiY/fy-HCgmIV9s/s400/house1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; 2 nights ago i had a dream about a mountainside house. It was a home built into the side of an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;inaccessibly&lt;/span&gt; steep , red-brown rocky mountain by a rich man and it was called "The cactus house" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;which&lt;/span&gt; was odd &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;coz&lt;/span&gt; there were no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;cactuses&lt;/span&gt; around it or on the front balcony [also carved out of the rock].&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I was with Mum who was a short Asian lady with big hair, and we went to visit the house [Don't ask me how we got to that balcony! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The front door was a huge archway and it had a patted plant on each side of the door. We went inside and the house was very bare. There was a fridge in the kitchen that was like a shop fridge [glass door] and it was full of Pepsi and milk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There were a few other things in the house, but i left it too long to re-live it and i can't see them in my head any more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;But the back of the house was all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ceiling&lt;/span&gt; to floor windows, and outside there was giant &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;cactuses&lt;/span&gt; of all sorts [Mostly &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.eplants.com.au/DisplayProductImage.asp?ID=9730"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;hens and chickens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;] and in my dream they took my breathe away!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then the owner of the house came in. He was in his late 20's, early 30's, and he complained that he'd been away, and during that time the local residents had put together a petition to have his house removed because it was in the way of a rock pit [to the left of his house was a lot of fist sized grey rocks covering the ground in about a 50 foot &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;radius&lt;/span&gt;, and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;neighbours&lt;/span&gt; were calling them a rock pit]&lt;br /&gt;He was given time to object but he missed the deadline, so he had to move out of his house. I felt the panic for him. I wanted to rescue the house so badly! But there was no way it could be saved.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He went out on the balcony to be by himself, and Mum followed him out there to flirt with him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then i left and that was it :o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-961828593677116984?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/961828593677116984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=961828593677116984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/961828593677116984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/961828593677116984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2008/08/2-nights-ago-i-had-dream-about.html' title='Life On The Rocks'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SJ_WNjYWK7I/AAAAAAAACiY/fy-HCgmIV9s/s72-c/house1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-6666148818179751961</id><published>2008-08-02T00:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T07:06:48.198-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cooking Up A Storm</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SJMQPTxBK7I/AAAAAAAAChM/IWoOuO5DjMg/s1600-h/Kitchen.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229541447497231282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SJMQPTxBK7I/AAAAAAAAChM/IWoOuO5DjMg/s400/Kitchen.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;This is one of those bizarre dreams where fiction crosses over to reality.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Where i remember this dream starting, John was invited to have a go at cooking in our fav restaurant [which would be Hogs Breath Cafe in reality] during a busy time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I watched him settle right in to fixing dishes. He kinda looked like someone else, but still looked like him. He was happy and smiling, and as i watched him, i felt really lucky that he was my husband. I admired him and appreciated his every move.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;We had a table at the restaurant with my sisters [younger sister and once removed sister] and all of our kids. I decided to order a jaffa [My fav flavour in reality that no-one keeps anymore] thick shake and i counted the change in my wallet. I figured it wouldn't cost any more than the $5 note i had. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;They took ages to make the shake, and by the time i got it, there was a white plate with a crumbed prawn on it that looked like a crumbed lamb cutlet. There was something else on the plate, but i can't remember what it was. And then there was the thick shake. The person at the counter said that would be $16. I yelled out to Rose who was at the table, to bring me her wallet because i didn't have enough money. She wasn't fast enough so i went over to the table to get her wallet myself. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I was starting to get frustrated, and for some bizarre reason, I punched a girl in the head who was at our table. I don't know who she was, but she was only about 4 years old!! [And the girl was defiantly NOT my 4yo niece!] ye gads!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And in my dream, i just acted like that was normal. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then suddenly there were people at another table who were trashing my parenting skills. This one woman was attacking every emotional weak point that i have as a parent and she was relentless!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then i went for her, to grab her throat and choke her so she'd shut up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And at that moment i grabbed something in reality. I can only think it was my pillow, but my pillow goes under my head, not beside me, in a grabbing position. I don't know what i did, but it woke me up momentarily.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then We all left the restaurant [minus John] in my sisters car, a beat up brown commodore. We stopped at a newsagent where i checked 3 of my sisters lotto tickets for her. The newsagent checked the tickets by slotting them into a cloth pocket. None of the tickets won anything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then we all piled in the car and drove off. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Don't know where :o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-6666148818179751961?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/6666148818179751961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=6666148818179751961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/6666148818179751961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/6666148818179751961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2008/08/this-is-one-of-those-bizarre-dreams.html' title='Cooking Up A Storm'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SJMQPTxBK7I/AAAAAAAAChM/IWoOuO5DjMg/s72-c/Kitchen.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-3873904577911550643</id><published>2008-07-26T16:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T23:45:38.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Biggest Dreamer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SIpzsUszjbI/AAAAAAAACfc/R12iEpwvdzA/s1600-h/drPhilFat.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227117522824957362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SIpzsUszjbI/AAAAAAAACfc/R12iEpwvdzA/s400/drPhilFat.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In this dream, I applied for a spot on the coming up Australian version of The Biggest Loser that is for couples with John.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;We got in and i was soooo happy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;On the first day of filming it became apparent that Dr Phil was hosting the show and calling the shots. And he wasn't as nice as he is on his show. He was abrupt and impatient.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;All 12 couples that got in were sitting around a big round table, and Dr Phil was going over some ground rules [on camera]. I was really nervous and kept making dumb jokes that just came across as negative attitude. Dr Phil said we'd be using the old metric system instead of the new one, and i said, "Nope, i ain't using the old one." Then Dr Phil got really angry and told me we had to leave the show.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He said i wasn't serious about losing weight and it was obvious that i just didn't really want to be here. I protested and begged to stay, but John and i were escorted out and back to our motel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The following day Dr Phil came over with a little red plastic kids car [like Little Tikes] and that was what we had to drive away from the show in. I knew that was serious.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;John was okay with the whole thing, weather we were on the show or not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Dr Phil gave me some paper work, along with his phone number, and told me that i needed to come up with a way to prove to him that I'm serious about being on the show to lose weight, and by a certain time, and then he left.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I kept trying to call him but the number kept being busy or it would ring out, and i started to panic. He only lived down the road, so when i only had a few minutes left on my deadline, i got in the little red car and started driving to his house [over our front lawn that was covered in that awful cooch grass]. But i was stopped by some plain clothed police officers before i even got out of the driveway. It was a man and a woman, and they were employed by Dr Phil to council people who were no longer on the show.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I said that i was just on my way to Dr Phil's place because i couldn't get him on the phone, but they said it was too late and our spot in the house was now gone.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I was really peeved off and they took me inside to calm me down. On the couch, they sat on either side of me and told me whatever it took to get me to forget about my interest in the show. I still really wanted to call Dr Phil, but i pretended it wasn't that important to me anymore just so the police officers would leave. But they didn't, once they thought everything had calmed down, They let their kids in the house so they could play with my kids. So then i had to wait even longer!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;All the kids went out a side door of the house where there was a whole lot of cut wood that they had to play around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;By the time the families had gone home, it was dark and it had been raining. I went down to where Dr Phil's house was and there were market stalls out the front selling Biggest Loser merchandise &amp;amp; The contests were selling the stuff. I picked up a few things and noticed that John and i were still listed as contestants. I looked at an address book that had a pink plastic see-through cover and there were cartoon type cut outs of the contestants [sorta like the male/female cut outs on bathroom doors] and i was heaps fatter than John!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;John was waiting for me down the end of the street so i walked with another [male] contestant as i walked over to him. We talked and he said that our replacement contestants had already been picked and that now there were 16 contestants instead of 12. He also said that the contestants weren't really allowed to tell us anything and that he shouldn't be talking to me. My panic had subsided and even though i was still peeved, i wasn't going to be losing sleep over it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So i thanked him and walked over to John, who was watching some people play a game in the street. Then he took me home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-3873904577911550643?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/3873904577911550643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=3873904577911550643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/3873904577911550643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/3873904577911550643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2008/07/in-this-dream-i-applied-for-spot-on.html' title='The Biggest Dreamer'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SIpzsUszjbI/AAAAAAAACfc/R12iEpwvdzA/s72-c/drPhilFat.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-2795106936352051735</id><published>2008-07-06T18:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T01:34:32.347-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>High Priced Snobbery</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SHB2GZs82LI/AAAAAAAACcQ/u7V50ZAKvaE/s1600-h/window.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219801820473120946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SHB2GZs82LI/AAAAAAAACcQ/u7V50ZAKvaE/s400/window.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; I took the kids to a casual friends place, Teressa. We are friends through our little country school and mostly because my daughter, Rose, who is friends with her daughter. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;When we got to Teressa's place she was packing stuff up because they were moving house. For some odd reason most of the stuff was packed on the stair case, though not obstructive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;As she pottered around, i looked out of their lounge room window. They lived on a hilltop, overlooking all of our little town with a population of 3500 [in reality] [Her sister lives on a house on a hill that overlooks our town, but the house it the dream was nothing like hers]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I told her the view was breathtaking. And she said that the house hadn't been listed to rent yet, so if we want it, go see the estate agent now and it should be all ours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I said, "Nahh, we own our house so we can't move into this one" Then she went to hang out some washing on the 'permanent' retractable clothesline that was right outside the window. I said "That must be a real pain to have there!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I looked around the house and noticed that no matter how much they packed up, the amount of stuff they had didn't seem to diminish. But the house was huge and roomy, and a horrid light apricot colour [eeewww].&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Teressa said she was having a party because she was turning 50 [I always thought she looked a little older that the 27 she told me she was, but 50??? i don't think so! yet in my dream i wasn't surprised.] Then she said that she was inviting everyone she knew but she didn't want me to go because i might dance and embarrass her. Apparently I'd danced in front of that window once before, and she didn't want me doing it again and in front of people. It wasn't even a "dance". More like a jiggle along to the music that was playing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I felt really hurt by that. Not insulted, but left out and isolated. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then Teressa went and sat with her friends in another room because the party was starting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So i left, but i left the kids there because they were welcome, and expected at the party.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I walked home down a long winter road. There were bare winter trees along both sides of the road and the sky was grey. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Then i went to find my sister, Rochelle. She lived in a busy city, in a high rise apartment building and she was a bit of a jet setter with high profile friends. Her flat was small and the furniture was expensive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There was this guy living with her who was tall and skinny with shoulder length 'dirty' blond hair. He was a business associate of hers but she also used him for an occasional shag. [Rochelle is happily married with a daughter, living in a suburb in reality]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;We walked around a few streets and Rochelle showed me some sights. Then we went back to her place and the tall guy showed me his awesome tan coloured ugg boots that Kylie Minogue had bought him. On the right side of the boots were summer embroidered/appliqued scenes such as bushy trees and a sun. And on the left of the boots were bare winter trees and a moon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;My kids were back with me again, but younger. I stayed a couple of nights at Rochelle's but i was ready to pack the kids up and go home. The kids were playing on a child size plastic table and it was day time. They were by a window and a lovely summer breeze was blowing the light white curtain around beside them. I went out onto a balcony [and it was now night time] to text John and tell him that i missed him and i wanted him to come and get me. But the text wouldn't go through and i started feeling desperate because i couldn't reach him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;In the meantime, the tall guy shut the balcony sliding door and locked it. The curtains were closed and they couldn't see me out there while they watched tele. I knocked on the door to be let back in but they couldn't hear me, or pretended not to. So i lay on the balcony and tried to go to sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And that's it :o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-2795106936352051735?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/2795106936352051735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=2795106936352051735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/2795106936352051735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/2795106936352051735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-took-kids-to-casual-friends-place.html' title='High Priced Snobbery'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SHB2GZs82LI/AAAAAAAACcQ/u7V50ZAKvaE/s72-c/window.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-7712763045981098980</id><published>2008-07-04T21:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T04:51:45.819-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding The Way Where?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SG2UKL09gdI/AAAAAAAACcA/KWbq-uzpjZs/s1600-h/taxi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218990445886800338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SG2UKL09gdI/AAAAAAAACcA/KWbq-uzpjZs/s400/taxi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; I know this dream started a bit further back, but this is what i clearly remember:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I was in a church but the people were actually the cast of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://neighbours.com.au/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Neighbours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;. There was a party and someone declared that it was time for everyone to get their clothes off. The women would stand on one side of the room and the men on the other. Someone would turn the light off and the two groups would walk toward each other. Whoever they met up with first, they had sex with [I know right? In a church??? lol] This didn't actually happen, i just saw it happening in my head as if someone was explaining it to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I left the room and went upstairs to find my kids. All the kids that were there, including my own, were off watching a video or something.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I was standing in a bedroom [Where i realised the kids were someone else] and a male friend [in reality] came in and said he wondered where I'd got to. He had been downstairs to partake in the 'activities' down there but he said he had come to look for me because it was me he wanted to do it with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So he got into the single bed and i stood by the bed, turned the light off and took my clothes off. I got into bed with him but didn't touch him. I didn't feel awkward. I actually felt really comfortable, i just didn't need to go any further with him. [I am not attracted to this guy at all in reality. I have never had a slightly impure thought about him at all! But there was one time, ages ago, that i saw him at the swimming pool. I felt a bit awkward about some male that i knew, seeing me in my swimmers. I am 370+ lbs after all. I never thought anything of it after that though, and when I've bumped into him i haven't thought about it either.]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;As we lay there, one of his young pre-school aged kids came into the room. Apparently the kids movie had finished and the room started filling up with different kids. So i got up [and was dressed] and went off to find my kids.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;When i found them, we [Me, Rose and Jason] walked through a market place where no-one was selling anything. At the other end of the market we got into a taxi. The driver was part Indian or Arab and he stopped at various places that we didn't ask him to,around the back streets.One of those places was a petrol station. But the station was a drive-through pub as well. The station worker [who was also Indian or Arab] gave the taxi driver a free stubbie of beer, and told him that they had too much beer so they were giving one away to each customer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The kids and i didn't like the taxi driver, He treated us like we were bothering him somehow and he didn't talk with us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I'm not sure what happened after that. When we left the petrol station, the dream kinda drifted off somewhere else after that that i don't remember.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-7712763045981098980?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/7712763045981098980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=7712763045981098980' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/7712763045981098980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/7712763045981098980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-know-this-dream-started-bit-further.html' title='Finding The Way Where?'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SG2UKL09gdI/AAAAAAAACcA/KWbq-uzpjZs/s72-c/taxi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-4378330777782462212</id><published>2008-06-26T15:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T02:19:07.657-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Johnny'/><title type='text'>House Of Sand</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SGMgF-QSBWI/AAAAAAAACaw/dmAEo86iQ2Q/s1600-h/chouse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216048080407889250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SGMgF-QSBWI/AAAAAAAACaw/dmAEo86iQ2Q/s400/chouse.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;So where are these dreams right? lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ok, lets start off with a shocker. John reackons that whenever i dream about him it's bad. But it's not.I only tell him about the bad ones [and the naughty ones]. But here's one of the bad ones lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Last night i dreamt that we had a house built. A real estate agent place built what we wanted and then sold it to us. John had said&lt;/em&gt; [in reality]&lt;em&gt; that the next time we buy a house, he wants a two storied house. So thats what we had built. A huge open plan two storied house right on the beach, and it was awesome!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But i started noticing odd stuff. Like i would push a doorway on the second story and the house would sway a bit in the direction that i'd pushed, like it was rubber. I told John about it but he didn't want to hear it, because this was the house of his dreams and nothing could possibly be wrong with it!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I was worried that the house would blow over in a good wind. I kept asking John if we had insurance, but again he wasn't interested. Every time he was near the hallway, i kept running up to an end&lt;/em&gt; [bedroom]&lt;em&gt; doorway to show him the swaying, but he wouldn't look.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Then i noticed that we didn't have any running water in the sink or bath etc. But downstairs there was a garden tap standing up in a patch of hard dirt&lt;/em&gt; [inside the house and by the back door]&lt;em&gt; Rose &lt;/em&gt;[who looked the size of a 4 year old with very short hair]&lt;em&gt; was filling up a plastic barrell from the tap. Her older sister, Alix &lt;/em&gt;[who was also small]&lt;em&gt; ran off to leave Rose alone and Rose was scared about being downstairs on her own, she was yelling after Alix to come back. So i helped Rose and we went back upstairs together, where i told John about us not having any upstairs water. He just didn't want to know. It was like the house had seporated us, emotionaly.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;In the meantime, he'd bought a little blonde foxy terrior type dog and a black kitten. Both animals were really small [What is it with the small kids and animals?]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The next morning the real estate guys came around and offered John 300 thousand for the house and John signed the contract.&lt;/em&gt; [That was about 60 grand more than we paid only days before]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I asked him why he signed without even talking to me. I thought we were partners? and he just said that it was done now so lets pack up.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;We argued, and it was the worst arguement of our relationship. Really bitchy stuff came out. The sort of stuff that comes out when you are 100% sure it's the end!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I got the shits with him and stormed off to his bedroom. He works nights so he had a sound proof room built just for him for when he sleeps during the day. I threw myself on his bed and under his pillow i felt some paper. I lifted the pillow to find porn magazines and i had a full on tantrum! i ripped pages out and threw them all over his room. It wasn't so much the naked women that bothered me, but the fact that he was using this room for more than sleeping. And what he was doing was robbing me.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;One of the pics in a magazine looked just like someone i knew&lt;/em&gt; [but it wasn't]&lt;em&gt; and i used that as my temper release on him.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I packed up the kids and left him because i couldn't deal with his all 'round emotional disconnection.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I went to someones place a few blockes away,who was having a party. I don't know what i did with the kids, but i sat at a picnic bench with strangers and got drunk. In the course of conversation, someone mentioned to me that our house was worth way more than 300 grand. It was worth at least 350.[even though it was swaying? lol] But John wouldn't go back on the contract because he didn't want to make waves.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I sat there with my double bourbans, thinking about where i was going to live with the kids. With what little income i had, what could possibly compare to the lavish house we'd just left? How could i make a secure home for my babies?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A freind of ours&lt;/em&gt; [in real life]&lt;em&gt; was at the party, and they decided to sneak off to talk "some sense" into Johnny. He didn't say he was going, i just knew.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I ran out of booze and walked back to the house to get some money.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I saw our freind there and asked, "What are you doing here?!?" like i was insinuating that he and Johnny were up to no good&lt;/em&gt; [eewww]&lt;em&gt; even though i knew they weren't. and ran back to the party. Everyone was ready to call it a night and go home, but i wasn't quite drunk enough yet, and still wanted to partay! But no-one else was in party mode, so i watched Babylon5 on tele&lt;/em&gt; [i've never watched an episode in my life].&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;And that's where the dream ended and i woke up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Now, my dreams are so vivid and detailed, that i actualy need time to "get over" them after i wake up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I woke up and Johhny was laying next to me sleeping, as he'd just finished a night shift. And i couldn't get out of bed fast enough! Poor Johnny lol&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-4378330777782462212?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/4378330777782462212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=4378330777782462212' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/4378330777782462212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/4378330777782462212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2008/06/house-of-sand.html' title='House Of Sand'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/SGMgF-QSBWI/AAAAAAAACaw/dmAEo86iQ2Q/s72-c/chouse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-643516774034357503.post-4780773327635867006</id><published>2008-06-14T04:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T04:06:01.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reasoning....</title><content type='html'>I have decided to start a blog about my dreams as they are quite complex and graphic! Anyone assuming that they can interpret dreams would have a Field day with them! So by all means, If you think you can decipher a persons inner thoughts via their dreams, be my guest :o)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/643516774034357503-4780773327635867006?l=dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/feeds/4780773327635867006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=643516774034357503&amp;postID=4780773327635867006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/4780773327635867006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/643516774034357503/posts/default/4780773327635867006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://dreamscapecactus.blogspot.com/2008/06/reasoning.html' title='Reasoning....'/><author><name>Losing 100</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06409728436640335599</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_z_pWJDayNew/TR9AWtGoNSI/AAAAAAAAFuE/WZTcbBfrc-U/S220/pic.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
