Sunday, September 16, 2012

Fever Dreaming

At 7:30 last night, I went from feeling perfectly fine to feeling very not.  A quick temperature check confirmed I was enduring a slight fever of 99.3.  I downed some Tylenol with a quick glass of water, told my husband and children that I loved them, and proceeded like Alice down the rabbit hole of fever dreaming.

I tossed and turned all night.  Moments of waking, lasting seconds, with the thought of a need for a glass of water to quinch the thirst and stop the burn--before being dragged back down inside the dark of sleep-- the moment lost.

And I dreamed.

In the first dream, I am me, but I am also Cheech Marin from Cheech and Chong
(The little on on the left)

who was also the animated character Rigby from Regular Show.
(Again, the little one.)

We, all within in one body, with one 'aspect' being dominant at a time, were paling around with the above two counter parts causing mild mischief at a water park/ adventure park.

As we were headed to get in line, a little boy in the line of kids a platform above us wasn't feeling well and the Rigby aspect climbed up over the fence to get him, where the Cheech aspect took over to direct him to throw up over a railing away from people.  I ended up taking over while he was actually doing so-- but in the process of being me, it brought my life with me and I was sickened with my children walking through and playing in the yark.  As I sent them to clean up in the park restroom-- I realized that the only way for them to do so was to go through an enormous hall of mirrors...and I'd sent them one at a time...and since I had no reason personally to go, could not enter.

So a park employee took me through a long side hall where we passed into a gift shop where I picked up a little crocheted doll in pink and purple of a Halloween witch/ Angel.!B8qZKVwCWk~$(KGrHqN,!iUEzOHrQPNzBM3tO55Uf!~~_1.JPG
(See the top two?  Yeah, put those wings on the one on the left and change those colors to hot pink and vivid purple and you've got the doll I picked up.)

As I did, the employee told me that a little girl had made that in the build-a-thing workshop then lost or abandoned it-- but they always left it at the gate this waiting area, should she ever return for it.

I didn't put it down and continued to bring it with me.

The waiting area was full of pews that was reminiscent of both a Shaker Church:
and a modern court room:
The room was decorated for Christmas.

I sat down to wait for my children and put the doll up on the post to sit-- but now it was in a black and leopard fur trimmed winter wear and a porcelain doll.
(JUST like this-- except black where it's green and browns, and grey leopard fur where it's white.)

I look around and realize the rest of the people waiting are -very- rich.  And are NOT pleased with me sitting there, or where I've placed the doll.

I am still split-natured but this time, my counter part is a little girl's%20Victorian%20Fashions/Children's%20Victorian%20Fashions.jpg
who clearly belongs with the doll.

A woman who has had enough of this little girl being present, comes over to try to tell us to put the doll down-- -I- make the decision to ignore her, though the child trembles.  The woman has no right.  In a huff, she returns to her seat and a gavel strikes
and court is called to order.

The judge leaves the bench, heads up the main isle towards an elder man who looks a -lot- like Dick Van Dyke
Except he's asleep.   I can't really tell you what the judge, Mr. Van Dyke and the rest of the grown ups were doing-- it was boring to the child, and she picked up the doll and really looked at it.

Suddenly, a small African-American girl, who could have stepped out the time of the Civil War
(Like this, but no older than 4.)

stood before the little girl/ I.  She began to deliver lines that were very much along what you figured the angel said to Mary at the birth of Jesus-- but clearly didn't understand all of her lines.

And suddenly, as though watching a teleprompter, I could see that's what they were-- her lines were highlighted in yellow and the conversation of the judge and people behind us where going on in gray.
(See how that bit on the screen doesn't really make any sense?  Yeah, the whole thing was like that, but it's the -feeling- of the angel speaking to Mary.)
Except that I'm Mary, Jesus is a porcelain doll, and my angel is about to go dual natured and slap me for not paying attention.

Second image from 
And she yells at me asking if I want to see the world in chaos and consumed by evil.

I answer no, while the little girl dual aspect answers yes at the same time.

I look at the little girl and she looks at me and it as though we are on opposites sides of a mirror.

No one else has heard our response-- our outward face still watches the little girl as she continues her lines, not responding to her question.

As I ponder the answer of my counter part, attention focuses on the judge behind us who know stands above Mr. Van Dyke on an enormously tall ladder.
(It looks a LOT like this with him doing it in the courtroom.)

When he descends, he holds a red guitar that somehow proves that the now dead body of Mr. Van Dyke is an imposter...and so is the guitar.

(On an aside, while looking for the second image, I came across a site for making an -excellent- paper guitar!)

And suddenly the courtroom was a stage, set up like a musical interpretation of Our Town.

But this too, is dual natured.  And it alternates with scenes reminsceint of the joker's clowns entering Gotham:

And as it switches between them, more and more clowns appear in the second-- it is the towns people/ the people in the courtroom.

And I get an overhead view (You know what I'm talking about, the kind of zoom view you get when the soul is leaving the body.)

(It starts at 1:06 through 1:47...but go ahead, watch the whole thing (:  It's one of my favorite scenes from this movie.)

And I realize it's like watching people in a mental ward, completely off their meds, doing a tribute to Christmas

(You know... if EVERYONE were Bill Murray... or Bobcat Goldthwait...)

I clawed out of this freaky nightmare to reality and consciousness.  And knew that my fever had finally broken.

Have I ever mentioned that I -hate- fever dreaming?

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