That was…creepy.
I just had this weird little micro-nightmare about our old house in Marana. I don’t think I’ve ever dreamt about that house, but in the dream there was all of this old blood all over the walls of my bedroom, but you could only see it when the lights were off. It was super creepy and full of weird vibes. I couldn’t convince anyone else the blood was there, even when it was right in front of them in the darkness.
Blech.
Well those were weird dreams.
Not so much weird, but…vivid? Realistic?
DREAM THE ONE:
I don’t remember too much about this one, but I was renting/staying in some cabin at a campsite. I don’t know if I was alone or not, but the cabin was pretty big. I had all my stuff in a big pile and I was worried about someone coming along and stealing it. Then at some point two guys came in and were making it very clear that they were going to shoot me if I didn’t let them have the cabin and all my stuff inside. It was unnerving.
DREAM THE TWO:
I remember this one much more clearly. I was walking around in Calgary with Nate, and he told me to go on ahead on the path and he’d catch up later. We were walking on some part of the bike path system that we were both unfamiliar with, but I went ahead anyway. The path went up away from the main roads and into this hilly wooded section. I had to pee (in the dream), so I looked back to see if Nate is close to catching up to me. He’s not, so I go up the side of the hill to try to find a tree to pee behind.
Up at the top of the hill is this big noise reduction fence (I think there’s a highway somewhere on the other side?) and there’s a house on the other side of the fence. A guy is standing on the deck absolutely hacking his lungs out, coughing so loud that it’s echoing across the whole city. I think (in the dream) that I need to tell Nate that I’ve found the mysterious source of all the coughing that you can hear everywhere in the city.
Then at some point the dream shifts a little bit and Nate, my high school band teacher (Mr. Garrett), three teen girls, and myself are all sitting in an abandoned camper trailer that’s somewhere in those wooded hills that I was just in. One of the teens sprained her ankle, and the rest of us are upset (though aren’t explicitly saying it) because we all want to do stuff that involves having two working ankles.
Eventually, Mr. Garrett and the teen girls leave, so Nate and I make out in the abandoned camper trailer until we hear Mr. Garrett coming back. He comes through the door and I’m like, “How are you, Mr. Garrett?” and he’s like “I could be better!” I guess he tried to take Injured Ankle Girl home so she wouldn’t ruin our fun, but she didn’t want to leave, so she came limping in behind Mr. Garrett and just sat sadly on a chair.
Then I woke up.
This was a 100% forgettable dream theme-wise, but it felt SO real and was very vivid. I almost want to make the camper trailer in the Sims and live in it, haha.
My Half-Awake Brain is Really Weird Sometimes
So last night I sacked out in my chair, got woken up by Nate when he went to bed, and then just crashed in the chair again. When I woke up around like 5:30, I was just coming out of a dream and I felt like it was such a SUPER IMPORTANT AND INTERESTING DREAM that I got my phone out and typed a summary of the dream into the “Notes” app so I could recall it later.
Here’s said summary:
So yeah. Super important and interesting, huh?
Also, does anyone else ever have like a soundtrack in their dreams? My dreams frequently involve montages and there’s always some sort of music playing as they’re happening. Then there’s like a reprise of that music later.
Odd news.
Well that was a distressing dream
So y’all remember Captain Planet, right? My chill and completely non-murderous succulent plant?
Well last night I dreamt I took him out of his little water catcher plastic thingy and a huge mass of roots broke through the bottom of his pot. Nate’s watching this and I tell him, “I bet all those cramped roots are painful!” and as I say this the roots start bending upwards and growing up the outside of the pot.
Before I can react, one of the thick roots basically rips off the end of my fingertip and starts going inside my finger. And it’s SUPER PAINFUL and SUPER BLOODY and I start freaking out because I can feel the root going up my hand and arm via one of my veins.
I start telling (or screaming to) Nate that it hurts and that we need to call an ambulance because I’m pretty sure once the root gets to my heart it’ll strangle the muscle and it will die, but Nate’s pretty calm about all of this and basically says that we don’t need an ambulance for this kind of thing.
I woke up before the dream got too gruesome, but there was a lot of blood and a lot of pain and I seemed to know in the dream that I was going to die no matter what happened.
So that’s fun.
My Weird-Ass Trudeau Dream
I’ve lived in Canada for over a decade in total now, so I’m OVERDUE when it comes to dreaming about the Prime Minister.
So here we go.
Me and a whole bunch of other people are hanging out in that ballroom on the second floor of the SUB at U of I (could there be a more random location for this? I think not). There’s some huge stage set up in the middle and it takes me a little bit of time before I realize that Justin Trudeau is just chilling in the room with us because he’s mostly been on the other side of the stage.
Then he grabs a microphone and announces that he wants to hold some sort of flash art contest in which participants will have about 15 minutes to make some sort of art related to a theme he gives us.
I have absolutely no inclination to participate in this, but my mom is there and she tells me she’s entered me into the contest so I have to make SOMETHING. I’m not too thrilled about this because I want to go home, but I comply and crap out some absolutely horrible piece of watercolor art in the last 30 seconds of the contest.
Trudeau goes around assessing all the artwork (there are like 100 people participating in this thing) and when he gets to mine he studies it for a minute and goes, “wow, that’s great! You go on to round two!”
And I’m like THERE’S A ROUND TWO?
Turns out that’s how the contest works. He picks his favorite [insert random number of] pieces and then those people go on to make another piece of art for another theme.
I still want to get this over with and go home, but as the contest goes on (and I keep moving on to the next rounds), I get really into it and want to make better and better art.
I’m in the 7th round and finishing a really good oil pastel drawing and I freaking wake up from the dream.
So did I win? WHO KNOWS! All I know is that Dream Trudeau really likes my Dream Art.
Weird.
Elon Musk AND structural collapse in my dream last night? THANKS, BRAIN, I LOVE YOU TOO
So last night I dreamt that Elon Musk decided to build a couple of fancy shmancy apartment buildings in the form of two big towers down by the U of C. And for some reason, I went to go live there (because who doesn’t want to live in a building called “Musk Tower One”?). I lived on the uppermost floor in an apartment that had two walls of full windows and was VERY high up.
I don’t know if I lived with friends or if I lived there alone and was having a party, but there were a bunch of people hanging out with me in the apartment. Anyway, it starts to storm a little bit outside and we can feel the tower swaying a little bit. We’re all a little freaked out, but I assure everyone that tall buildings like this are designed to sway in the wind and still be completely structurally sound. So we party on.
But then it starts getting REALLY windy and the tower just starts bending like hell. Back and forth and back and forth. So does Musk Tower Two, which is next to it, and they bend to the point where you could jump across from one building to another. Then they start bending to the point where the top floors are basically touching the ground.
It’s freaking wild and freaking terrifying and we all want to get the hell out of things before the buildings SNAP IN HALF, so once the building bends to the extreme again and we, on the top floor, are like two feet off the ground, we all just jump off.
Once I’m off the building, I notice that my mom is standing near the buildings and is in total freak out mode, ‘cause she knows I live in them. So I go over to her and tell her I’m fine and her freak out mode turns in to rage mode and she starts screaming “WHERE IS THAT ASSHOLE ELON MUSK, I’M GOING TO PUNCH THE HELL OUT OF HIM!” and was just on a rampage for the rest of the dream.
Unfortunately, I never found out what happened to the swaying buildings or if my mom punched out Elon Musk ‘cause I woke up, but it was one of the most super-realistic (feeling-wise) dreams I’ve had in a long time.
Weird.
UNDER MY UMBRELLA ELLA ELLA AY AY AY
So I just crash-slept in my chair and had the most vivid dream. I was an old lady walking around a big mall while carrying this super fancy cane. There were a bunch of other old ladies scattered about in the mall and every once and a while one of them would ask, “that’s a beautiful cane, can I see it?” And I would dramatically lift it up, press a button on the cane’s handle, and it would open to reveal this STUNNING umbrella covered in jewels and fancy fabrics. The opening of said umbrella would be accompanied by a dramatic wind that would make the fabric flutter and the jewels jingle. I would get a new cane/umbrella after each showing so that every old lady got to see a different umbrella opening.
It was…weird. And kinda cool.
I WAS ON A GOAT THAT DAY
Let me tell you the weird dream I had about pasta.
In the dream, there is this company in northern Idaho that specializes in making pasta that is named after different metal/hard rock bands. There is nothing particularly special about the pasta itself or even the shapes – they’re just named after metal or hard rock bands. For example, the manicotti noodle shape was called “Slayer.”
I am exceptionally intrigued by these noodles in the dream, so my mom, Nate, and I take a road trip from Moscow up to somewhere past Coeur d’Alene where the pasta is sold in some huge mall. We get to the store that sells the pasta and rather than reasonable quantities of noodles being sold in boxes, they’re sold by the pair at the same price as a box (according to the company, this is so that you can mix and match shapes to your liking).
And they’re also sold on those little earring display cards.
Like, instead of this:
It’s this kind of thing:
Oh, did I mention the pasta company was called Celebrezze? That’s weird as hell because Celebrezze was the last name of my high school principal.
Guess he’s making pasta for the 1 percenters now.
Anyway.
The names of the pastas are on the backs of the earring cards and Nate’s quizzing me on matching the band names with the pastas.
I’m terrible at it.
He’s making fun of me because he thinks it’s because I don’t know my metal/hard rock bands, but really it’s because there is no logical connection between a band and what pasta shape they get.
Like, there’s no reason Slayer should be manicotti…but there’s no reason Slayer should not be manicotti, y’know?
Oh, and my mom got a new car in the dream. She just drove it right up to us in the mall because she was so excited about it. It was the same make and model of her previous car, but it was a different color.
Anyway.
Also, apparently I can still reconstruct Lead with cellular accuracy from somewhere deep in my subconscious, ‘cause he was in the car with my mom and was busy pointing out some design flaw with the odometer display that I had pointed out A MILLION TIMES BEFORE but my mom was like, “oh my god, I’ve never noticed that before, you’re so smart!” and it’s like why must he be better than me even in my dreams????
(Run-on sentence)
Except for that one dream I had a while ago where the two of us were on Jeopardy! and all of the categories were things I knew (Leibniz, SI units and measures, stats, clouds, etc.) and I smoked him. That was a great dream.
So yeah.
A dream that’s NOT horrible or terrifying? I’ll take it!
We now take a break from our regularly scheduled dream programming of “here’s how the world will end!” to bring you a dream that’s actually not horrifying!
YAY!
So last night I dreamt that the sheriff from Stranger Things wasn’t actually the sheriff in Stranger Things but was instead a guy trying to be the sheriff of Riverdale.
(Yes, I’m still watching Riverdale. No, I am not ashamed. Yes, it is weirder than ever.)
In order to become the sheriff, though, he must win a karaoke contest that’s held over a radio station. He’s all set for this, but on the day of the contest, his voice is all scratchy and messed up so he can’t sing. But never fear! At the radio station, he pulls out a ventriloquist’s dummy and says that while he cannot sing, the dummy can. And the dummy does indeed to a decent rendition of “I Was On a Boat That Day” and wins the karaoke contest.
Well, technically the dummy wins the contest, which means the dummy becomes the sheriff and the guy becomes the deputy sheriff.
Yeah.
More Fun Ways for the Earth to End
My brain specializes in disturbing end-of-the-world scenarios that are just far enough on the plausible side to be extra terrifying.
As an example, I present last night’s dream:
In the dream, I’m out on our balcony looking at the stars on a clear night. I notice very quickly, however, that not only can I see the stars but I can also see the International Space Station. But it’s not a little dot like it usually is; rather, it’s SUPER CLOSE and I can see it in detail. Then I realize that I can see all sorts of space debris, like old discarded pieces of space crafts, random satellites, etc.
I think this is super cool and a product of Calgary’s skies being so clear, so I take a picture of it and send it to my mom. She responds by saying that something bad is happening and that I should turn on the news.
It turns out that the US government, in an effort to do…something (probably strengthen the military), has messed up one of the outer layers of the earth’s atmosphere (I’m not sure which, but I’m gonna say the ionosphere because that makes the most sense). Specifically, they accidentally made it way more magnetic than it should be. The result? All of the relatively close metal-based space debris is being drawn towards earth and is all starting to re-enter the earth’s atmosphere. As I’m listening to this news, I can actually see all of these pieces of debris get closer and closer in the sky, with one piece turning bright red as it falls into the upper atmosphere. The news anchor is telling people to be prepared for mass destruction* and to get underground if possible.
This is, of course, terrifying. In addition, the news says, the increased magnetic nature of the ionosphere is messing with all the electronics on earth. Sure enough, soon my phone no longer works and my conversation with my mom is cut off. My computer monitor, too, starts to dim and then eventually dies as well.
At this point I’m panicking, because I know I have to get Nate (who is nowhere to be found in the dream), Jazzy, and all our important stuff together and out of the condo as fast as possible. I’m also worried about my mom. She, however, shows up in the condo a few minutes later (hooray dream logic) and we both start to scramble to get things together to evacuate the building.
By this point, the power grid is starting to fail and the lights flicker and go out entirely. Now it’s dark (it’s still nighttime) and I can’t find a flashlight or Jazzy or her carrier or any of the other important stuff we need to keep with us (passports, etc.). Meanwhile, more and more pieces of debris are breaking through the atmosphere and crashing all around us, with some of the neighboring buildings going up in flames as burning pieces of metal collide with them.
It’s just this overall feeling of helpless panic.
Then I wake up.
Ugh.
I guess the takeaway from these nightly “here’s how you might die!” dreams is that this is the third one in the past week where in the dream, I’ve regretted the fact that I did not have things prepared for a quick evacuation (emergency bag + important stuff ready to be quickly gathered and taken with me). I’m assuming this is the universe telling me to get that stuff ready just in case.
Because you never know.
*In reality, most of these objects are probably small enough that they would just burn up before hitting the earth, but still…terrifying, right?
Dream a Dream
So I totally forgot to blog about this, but a few nights ago I had a dream in which Nate bought Bobby Fischer and kept him out on the balcony.
Yeah, the Bobby Fischer. Nate purchased him and built him a little house on the balcony and let him in the house only to play chess.
I was also a dandoc in the dream. What’s a dandoc, you ask?
NO FREAKING CLUE, BUT THAT’S WHAT I WAS!
It was weird.
Timmy? Tommy? Whatever.
So for the first time in a looooong time, I had a dream last night that was devoid of violence, death, or unimaginable horrors. It was actually quite entertaining, so I shall share it with you here.
In this dream, Nate and I have a kid.* And just as would probably happen in real life, the kid is second in importance after Jazzy. Like, the kid will be sitting on the floor next to Jazzy’s food bowl and I’d pick up the bowl to refill it for Jazzy before picking up the kid. And we just kind of…leave him places around the house, like on a bookshelf or behind the TV or under the bed. He’s just there.
(Parents of the Year!)
Anyway, at one point in the dream I realize that CPS is going to take our kid away if we don’t start paying more attention to him. So I tell Nate that I’m going to get a special clock made. This clock will have the name of our kid written in place of the “12” and the “1” to remind us to spend time with the kid during those hours.
The clock arrives and the name that replaces the “12” and the “1” is “Timmy.” Now in the dream I’m super confused at this point, because I’m pretty sure we named our kid Tommy. I spend a good amount of time trying to get Nate to say the kid’s name to confirm what it actually is, but he never says it. So I eventually just have to show him the clock and ask, “what did we actually name our kid? Is it Timmy or is it Tommy?”
Nate’s pretty sure it’s Tommy too, so my next question is who the hell is Timmy? And rather than take responsibility for the fact that we’re screw-ups who can’t remember what we named our kid and thus bought a clock with the wrong name on it, Nate and I quickly make up a guy named “Timmy” – we say he’s Nate’s cousin – and that’s why we made the mistake on the clock.
Then we’re all like, “aw, man, nobody likes Timmy!” “Screw Timmy!” “Everything about Timmy is a mistake!” and we renounce the hell out of him to try to justify why we can’t keep the clock anymore. We don’t want some loser’s name on it, after all.
So after the clock is disposed of, I tell Nate that we can’t call Tommy anything other than Tommy because we need to make sure we remember his name and the only way to do so is to just repeat it constantly.
Then I immediately go up to the kid and start cooing at him like “ooooh, who’s my special Happy Giggle Toes Diaper Boy? My Fancy Rude Dude Red Pants???” and I can feel Nate glaring at me because I’m calling him everything but Tommy.
Then I woke up.
Anyway. Weird dream. And it further supports our decision to NEVER HAVE KIDS EVER.
*Okay, so this technically falls under the “unimaginable horrors” category because of that, but I’ll let it slide since the dream was overall quite hilarious and not of the “oh god oh god I have a kid I’ve ruined my life” style.
Do you like Montana? GOOD, ‘CAUSE YOU’RE GONNA LIVE THERE
Are you ready for another “what the fuck” dream?
Last night’s dream featured Elizabeth Taylor (who I’m pretty sure is dead?) who had decided to purchase the earth for TWO HUNDRED TRILLION DOLLARS.
In a big press conference that was broadcast worldwide, Taylor said that she wanted to convert the whole world to the same climate and geography as Montana because, as she said in the press conference, “I was born in Montana and I’d really like the whole world to know how wonderful Montana is” (I’m pretty sure she was English?).
Anyway, as I’m watching this press conference in the dream, I remember thinking, “hey, Idaho is basically the same as Montana already, so maybe she’ll just leave it alone,” which was an oddly specific thought about the protection of my home state when places like THE HIMALAYAS and ANTARCTICA were going to get converted to freaking Billings.
There’s a panel of scientists also at this press conference who are all most likely being paid tons of $$$$ because they’re all basically kissing her ass and telling her that it’s “completely feasible” to convert everything on earth – including the oceans, by the way – to Montana’s climate and geography. They keep saying it will make the whole planet better. One scientist mentions very briefly that making the whole earth into Montana may have some negative consequences, but only at first. After the planet acclimates in about 500 years, everything will be fine. We just have to get through what he calls the “Montana droughts” first. But yeah. After that? Smooth sailin’.
It was just a…weird dream. I’m usually able to figure out what thoughts from the previous day prompt certain aspects of my dreams, but I have no idea why Elizabeth Taylor of all people was in there and I have no idea why EVERYTHING HAD TO BE MONTANA.
Odd news.
Vinnie
So last night’s weird dream: I wrote a book about Winnie the Pooh’s brother, Vinnie the Pooh. He’s a mobster who’s always doing shady stuff on the “wrong side of the tracks” in the Hundred Acre Wood.
The author of the Winnie the Pooh books came back to life and tried to sue me over the defamation of the “Winnie the Pooh” name, but since he never mentioned Vinnie in any of his works, the courts dismissed his claim (???).
Brain, you’re strange.
Good lord, brain, what the hell?
So last night I had a pretty damn disturbing dream about a serial killer who worked at Sherwin Williams. The guy would murder people, bring their bodies into the store, hide said bodies in the paint freezer (???), and use parts of their bodies to mix paint colors (blood for reds, bones for whites, etc.). Every time he’d make a “person paint” – as he called them – he would write on the lid of the paint can, “courtesy of Cooltone,” which I guess was his self-assigned serial killer name.
It was…disturbing. And graphic.
Thanks, brain.
Sweet dreams are made of…COVID?
So has anyone else’s dreams been reduced to COVID-related stuff only? ‘Cause mine sure has hell have (at least the ones I can remember, of course).
It’s like every night there’s some other depressing or horrifying dream about COVID. Mostly involving something happening to my mom.
I’m convinced my brain is trying out coping mechanisms in my sleep but keeps botching them and making things worse. It’s like that dream about the Beirut explosion. I think that was my brain trying to get me to forget about COVID momentarily but decided to END THE EARTH INSTEAD.
Super fun.
I hate it.
So this was the most realistic-feeling and absolutely terrifying dream I’ve ever had.
The end of the world is coming and there’s nothing we can do to stop it. It’s irreversible. And much like the virus, the experience almost doesn’t seem real. It’s like watching a horror movie and waiting to see how the ending will resolve itself, all the time knowing that the movie is reality and the only resolution is the absolute end of everything.
We watch a live map of the world, waiting. Knowing that the end is coming. Knowing that we can’t stop it. We can only watch and wait. But there’s an expert with us, and he can tell us when it’s all about to be over. There’s a level of comfort in that, somewhere.
For a while there’s nothing. Then, an explosion. Beirut. It’s big enough that it can be seen from space. Live cameras in the city show the massive blast move outward from its epicenter with a speed and intensity that does not seem survivable.
Is it nuclear?
No. Not this one. The expert assures us that this is not the end.
Smoke fills the live camera views. Some cameras go offline. A shot from the ISS shows the explosion’s cloud breach the earth’s lower atmosphere and billow above it.
Another explosion. It is somewhere in France, but we can’t see the exact location because of all the smoke on the map.
Is this one nuclear?
No. Not this one, either. But the next one will be.
So we wait. Excited dread. Fearful hope that it will be quick and as painless as possible.
We wait.
We wait.
Then it happens.
A third explosion, big enough that it blots out the entire world map. All live cameras go black. The map shudders and goes blank.
This is it, the expert says.
This is it.
It’s like a dream. It can’t be real. This is something that would happen in a TV show or a book or a movie. Not real life. It can’t be real.
How long until we die? No one knows. No one is here to tell us anymore. The expert is suddenly gone.
I want my mom. I need to talk to my mom. I want her to be the last person I talk to. Somehow, by some miracle, I am able to message her over Skype.
Are you there?
Yes.
Are you scared?
Yes.
Me too.
I love you.
I love you, too.
I feel the wind, even though I’m in the house. It stings as if it’s filled with tiny needles. My body hurts. My lungs hurt. Then the walls of the house are gone.
Are you still there?
Yes.
I love you.
I love you, too.
The atmosphere feels like it’s collapsing in on itself. There is a terrible crushing feeling as everything starts to flatten. The horizon flattens. All houses that are still standing flatten. My vision is distorted. Everything hurts.
Are you still there?
Yes.
I love you.
I love you, too.
Everything hurts.
Everything hurts.
What could we have changed to prevent this?
Everything hurts.
Where is Nate?
Where is Jazzy?
All the creatures on the planet are dying a horrible, painful death.
Can we try again? We’ll get it right this time.
Are you still there?
Yes.
I love you.
I love you, too.
Everything hurts.
Please, can we try again?
Sound waves stop being able to fluctuate. First there is static, then there is nothing. Everything is too flat for sound.
Then everything is too flat for light.
Am I even alive, or is this what the end of life feels like?
I can’t be the only one. Not yet. Either we’re all dead or none of us are.
I can’t hear. I can’t see. I don’t know if I’m breathing.
I just know that it’s over. There is no more one last try.
Are you still there?
…
Hello?
…
…I love you.
Another Weird January Dream
So remember a couple days ago when I mentioned that my brain likes to fire off a fair number of weird, vivid, memorable dreams near the start of the year? Here’s another one for you!
In last night’s dream, I actually am not sure if I was part of the thing I was dreaming about or just watching it on TV. That part I can’t remember. But the rest of it I can, so we’re just going to say that I was watching this on TV in the dream, because it was a TV show I was dreaming about. Specifically, it was the show 7th Heaven. If you’re not familiar with the show, it ran from 1996-2007 and was heavy-handed with lots of Christian themes. It focused on the family of Reverend Camden, which consisted of his wife Annie and like nine kids, and their Wacky Christian Adventures. One such adventure, for example, was the Rev finding a blunt in the house and going berserk “I WILL DRUG TEST THE LOT OF YOU HEATHENS” on the kids because he wanted to know which one brought the Devil’s Grass into their holy house.
It was a…weird show.
Anyway. In the dream I am watching(?) 7th Heaven on TV and in the episode, one of the Camden kids has befriended some other kid (he’s like…eight? Nine?) and have brought him home to hang out with him. This kid is like perfect: no hair out of place, perfect clothes, perfect speech an annunciation, perfect response to everything that he is asked—and as the episode goes on, I think to myself in the dream that I remembered this episode from having seen it before. Specifically, the “big twist” is that this kid is actually Jesus.
Yup. Literal, actual Jesus, disguised as a nine-year-old kid.
The episode cuts to this scene where JesusKid is finishing the last book in a huge bookshelf of novels and one of the Camden kids – I think it’s Matt – says something like, “there’s no way you could have read all those books so quickly. You’d have to be some sort of divine being to have done that.”
(Subtle.)
Jesus Kid just smiles, and Matt takes one of the books and says “Okay, fine. But I’m going to read along with you just to make sure you’re reading them all like you say you are.”
Cut to a different part of this bizarre 7th Heaven universe: a farm. There’s a mother and a daughter out working in a field when the mother jumps up and starts freaking out about one of their sheep escaping its pen and going over to the Camden’s field. Now I’m pretty sure that in real life 7th Heaven, the Camdens lived in town, as they lived in a church-owned house that somehow held the Rev, the wife, and their massive brood. But in the dream, I guess they lived on a farm…?
Anyway, the mother and daughter start absolutely freaking out, because I guess there is some sort of giant pond between their farm and the Camdens’ and the sheep was in danger of drowning in the pond.
Cut back to Jesus Kid. Using what I’m assuming is his God-bestowed sixth sense, he suddenly seems to realize the sheep is in trouble, and he jumps up and runs out to the fields, much to the confusion of Matt and everyone else.
He bolts to the pond as fast as he can and sees the sheep drowning near the middle of the pond. Then – I kid you not – he just calmly walks on the pond water out to the sheep. He touches the sheep, which grants it the ability to walk on water as well, and the two return to the Camden side of the pond.
So, walking on water: obviously a Jesus thing, right? But the Camdens don’t make that connection. They chalk the whole thing up to an optical illusion (???) and are just happy that the sheep is safe.
Jesus Kid, meanwhile, waits until everyone is busy doting over the sheep, then disappears into the ether with a weird little halo glow about his head.
Then the episode is over.
I literally had to Google “7th Heaven Jesus episode” when I woke up this morning, because while I was sure that no episode exactly like the one in my dream existed, I was convinced that there was some episode where the kids meet Jesus without even knowing it.
There’s not.
7th Heaven creator Brenda Hampton, I am disappoint.
HUH
My subconscious’ feature presentation last night was a horrific post-apocalyptic world where all human males had turned into “man-o-pedes” (centipede-type creatures that had mustaches) and all human females turned into keyboards.
That was it, there was no actual action going on or anything, but what the hell.
I just had the weirdest fucking dream about waffles
‘Cause why not, right, brain?
Anyway, in my dream, CNN did this big story about how someone (it was heavily implied that it was Trump) was putting microscopic GPS trackers in Eggo waffles which, once consumed, were used to track where people went for the rest of their lives.
(Why the waffle got digested/pooped out but the GPS trackers did not was never explained.)
The German government got involved (?) because they were pissed at the fact that America was getting all this attention for mini waffle-engulfed GPS trackers but in fact Germany had been doing this for years and could prove this by showing a complex map of all the German citizens that had been tracked by said mini waffle-engulfed GPS trackers.
Then Steven Spielberg comes out of nowhere, saying that the mini waffle-engulfed GPS trackers was his idea: he used it in Jaws to keep track of the shark while they were filming.
(‘Cause the shark in Jaws was totally real, y’all.)
I don’t remember much after that, but seriously, brain?
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