What a night. I was involved in the following:
Why this ? Well, I can't go on drinking lots of wine like that. Personal reminder: Wine tasting should never include too much wine.
I had a repeat of a dream I have every couple of months or so.

I was in a normal, everyday situation, riding the tube when I started to wobble one of my molars with my tongue. It seemed to be attatched to the jaw quite strongly on the outer edge, but on the side nearest to my tongue it had come loose and I could push the tip under it, lifting it slightly from the gum. As I rocked it, little bubbles of spit got underneath and I could feel them squirting in and out. It felt quite interesting, so I kept doing it for a spell.

After a while the tooth was rocking much further and I found I could twist it and pull it by sucking at it. Eventually it was hanging onto my gum by just the thinnest thread and rolling around, into my cheek and back. It broke off. Worried now, I hurriedly push it forward and spit it into my hand. Nobody else in the carriage seems to be taking any notice, so I put my hand on the seat and subtly drop the tooth onto the floor, where I crush it under my shoe. It crumbles like a piece of biscuit.

The next thing I become aware of, besides my uneasiness as I explore the hole my tooth has left behind, is that a new one is already pushing up through the gum. It's coming up fast enough for me to be able to feel it squeezing through the bone and forcing its neighbours apart. At this point I start to get scared. The new tooth doesn't stop when it's in place, but just carries on coming and pops right out of its socket and into my mouth. Again I roll it forward with my tongue and spit it out.

My face starts to ache as another replacement begins to creep up into my mouth, but by this time my other teeth are starting to hurt too. They feel all bruised as if they have taken a knock, but soon they begin to turn and twist and rise out of their places. I cup my jaws in my hands and tears come into my eyes, as panic rises in my gut.

With an awful cracking noise, like rock splitting, my teeth just start to break off at the roots and my mouth fills up with pieces of fractured enamel. I find myself spitting out the rubble and wiping it off my lips with my fingers, but more teeth keep on growing up and forcing out more and more junk. It already feels like I have a mouth full of gravel, but it just keeps getting worse.

I soon start to have trouble breathing and find myself choking. I get up out of my seat and clutch at a handrail, blindly stumbling around the train. I am starting to frighten the other commuters, but nobody says anything. I can feel a rough mass in my throat and it's coming forwards, stretching out the back of my mouth, which is now totally full of broken teeth, so I can't even close it any more. It's like having a mouth full of hard, dry soil. I just have to lean forward and try to cough the debris out, making chewing motions restricted by the sheer amount of crap that's in there.

The force of whatever it is coming up my throat keeps on building and I gag as it comes forward, I don't know how, but I know its a thick column of shattered teeth, molded together into a solid branch. I can't breath and I can't see for tears of fear that are streaming from my eyes. All I can do is claw at my mouth, but there's no way to stop it. I vomit round the sides of it all and end up waking from the dream just as I am starting to breath in the sickly mixture.

Gently, I check all around my mouth with the tip of my tongue.

I relax.

I'm on Everything.

One of my nodelets is filled to the brim with broken nodes and a note from one of the Editors: "Check each one of these out!" There are hundreds!

It's bad enough I dream about Everything; why does it feel like the world's longest homework assignment???

jippy::pippy
I'm in a heavily corridorred(sp?) building. It has a very clinical look about it, perhaps a hospital? I walk into the Men's toilet1 and after I'm done I start to make my way out. I notice there are two door ways: one has a brass number "5" on it. I go through the other one.

I see this young fella with collar long brown hair, he's doning a brown leather jacket. We exchange glances. I start to walk around the building. I'm hopelessly lost, this isn't the way I went to get to the toilets.

I see the young fella again who promptly laughs at my state of confusion and mis-direction. I think he says, "Welcome to high school!". Luckily I find the Men's toilet again and walk through the door.

When I enter the toilet's I find there are two people there. A woman and a rather short dwarfish man. Apparently I'm a Private Investigator and I'm meant to be finding a Cockatil(sp? a parrot of sorts) for them. I had found it and brought it out of my rucksack. The bird started to fly around and then it shits on my bag. I'm rather annoyed by this, the small man tried his best to clean it off.

Once our transaction is complete I head through the door with the brass number "5" on it.

I'm back in the right place... Juliet walks past me in a white beautician uniform. We exchange smiles. The door way which she arrived from was a sunlit exit from the building. I think I walk through it.


1This is the second dream I've had about toilets.. well toilet-centric.
Well now, this is really a day log, but I feel kind of dreamy (ooh that yam.. she's dreamy) today owing to a mild sleep deficit. I'll stick a dream at the end for your edification & stupefaction.

I wrote a big-ass three hour exam today. The canadian securities course. Lordy, expect a series of nodes on canadian fixed income securities soon; I'm just a burstin' with trivia. (and isn't that how we love it?) I was so well behaved. I proofread, even. My vague stares at the proctor weren't openly hostile. I had a compliant calculator. (pat, pat.)

I feel out of phase. I slept only a little last night - I can never study more than 40% of the material for any given exam until the night before, tragically. One day it'll do me in, but my little brain so far can handle the ambitiousness or lack thereof of the wanker courses I take. Anyhow, it's the morning and the evening and the night all at once now. The weather obliges me: ambiguous grey.

Yesterday I had a wundermeal with p_i at a local restaurant called monsoon. If you're ever in town, eat there. This brings me to the actual dream, I think from last weekend, because monsoon rhymes with bassoon:

I was me sometimes, and sometimes a doppelganger of a (male) friend of mine, only slightly blonder. I/people were driving around town. A convenience store was involved. At some point I had very passionate sex with a female friend of mine .. I can't remember if I thought I was male or female at this point, but I suppose that's a moot point, really. Anyhow, in the middle of all this, we were in someone's basement having a musical instrument swap meet. It was exciting, but I was always a little disappointed: I had a bassoon-scooter (it wasn't actually a bassoon, but I thought to myself it's a bassoon. it was silver and rather like a trombone that was stretched and bent at a right angle to make an L shape. there were wheels, it was like one of those trendy cute-scooters all the kids have. (I feel so edgy saying the kids. I'm twenty.. maybe I'm old enough to get away with it.)), and only one other boy had one, so we were always just swapping back and forth, nothing novel, really. At some point our host started smoking something narcotic. His father was also in the room, doing paperwork in a corner and smoking a cigar. I knew somehow he would be very angry as soon as he perceived our swap meet - so far it had escaped his view somehow.

...

I have choir tonight. Ohhhhh, singing is back with me! I am so happy. I am unspeakably happy. I am almost unsingably happy.

I have a new job. The day after I left my old job, the firm was shut down. Eerie. I'd be more intrigued/creeped out by it if I wasn't busy being pissed off about them bouncing my last paycheque. Sigh. Thank god for credit, but..

...

It's getting darker in the world. I feel prepared to fly out at it and glide through the long autumn night. Bring it on. The year wanes and luck modifiers drop...

and werewolves come out!

I guess I'm under some emotional stress...

I was at the gazebo at RHS, and the usual lovely insanity was taking place. And once again I stood alone in the middle of this, shy and quiet.

Someone came up to me and tapped my "commie hat" (a baseball hat with a red star I had airburshed on it). This was the straw that broke the camel's back for me. I was fed up with being toyed with, and punched the guy, knocking him off of the bench, out of the gazebo and onto the ground.

I began screaming at everyone, venting out every frustration I had with them, finnaly ending it all by calling them all hypocrites for wanting people to respect thier weirdness but mocking anyone different than them. With this I stormed out.

I sat over on the pavement a short distance away. Emily came over and asked why I had snaped like that. I then went into a huge rant where I said that I was sick of being poked fun at because I wasn't like anyone else.

Matt: "You know what I hate Emily? I hate that in order to be heard around here I have to scream. But when I scream people think it's fucking hillarious. IT'S REALLY GOD-DAMN FUNNY ISN'T IT! COME ONE EVERYONE, LAUGH AT MATTHEW, HE'S JUST A CRAZY FOOL, A COMMIE, AND (GOD-FORBID!) HAS A FUCKING CLUE SOMETIMES! LET'S STRING HIM UP, HE HAS NO PLACE HERE!"

I can't remmember what heppend then, all I know was I woke up around 11:30 PM crying. I didn't want to vent like that to her, even if it was just a dream. I'm sorry Emily.

Ok. Yesterday I saw caligula. God what a nightmare. imdb called it a $15m porno. Folks, if you want a porno, rent one whose total budget was $4,000 and a 24 pack of condoms. I mean it was horrible. I'll admit, I rented it just because it was reputed to be quite racy. Well, it was, but there was no eroticism to it. Somehow, I don't know how, but they managed to make a movie with that much sex and make it.... well... not erotic. It was a the worst movie that I'd ever seen. Not because of the sex, but because the movie was just bad. I think that it was even worse than Howard the Duck, and that's saying quite a lot.

In other news.. I designed a pretty kick-arse forms processing system at work. It should save me quite a bit of time when I'm developing. I got to use some pretty neat Black Magic in it. Gotta love reflection.

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.