trinityvixen: (blogging from work)
I feel like a cat chasing a laser toy, mentally, today. My head is all over the place. To whit, this list of things that have come up in my head today, either as a result of life, the internet, or just my brain really being that spacey.

-I hate when people say, "I don't want to spoil it for you, so I won't say anything more," and then they go ahead and keep telling you spoilers. This morning, I talked to the new guy at work about his trip to see The Book of Mormon, which I am anticipating seeing at some point, and he just would not stop. Mind you, I didn't even ask about this, he volunteered this information and I, politely, heard him out and suggested he see Avenue Q if The Book of Mormon is his kind of bag. How did I recommend this? By saying it's funny and has good music. End of story. No spoilers. Jesus, was that so hard?

-You know what was a good game? Bioshock. I really loved that game for the gameplay. Yeah, they smoothed things out in the sequel, but honestly, the swapping back and forth between plasmids and weapons became second nature after a while. And there was a photography mini-game! More games need to have photography elements to them. I kind of love that that mechanic is back in the less-than-original "reboot" sequel Dead Rising: Off the Record. But man, Bioshock was goddamned fun, challenging without being impossible, and fucking gorgeous. I should go replay the sequel, get some more achievements or something. I should also buy this shirt, y/y?

-I had a dream where I met Jennifer Hale (if you don't know who she is, shame on you) at a convention (it might have been PAX) and I was so excited to see her and have her sign my female-Shepard-variant cover for the collector's edition of Mass Effect 3. I told her that I've been a fan of hers since Where on Earth is Carmen Sandiego? when she was the female detective's voice. I don't know why that detail was so specific in my mind, but yeah. I woke up knowing it was a dream because I'm absolutely too squeamish about meeting celebrities to ever want tot talk to them. This is a nice change of pace from dreaming I've been called out as a failure by my boss and wake up in a panic about how to prove otherwise.

-Assassin's Creed movie!?! On the one hand, Ubisoft, with probably 1/100th of the budget of even a mediocre Hollywood movie, made a pretty goddamned awesome prequel short film about the father of the player character in the second and third Assassin's Creed games. It's beautiful, the costumes ARE porn, and I think they must have gotten the voice actors from the game surgically altered to resemble the characters they play because WHOA. On the other hand, if that's what they can do with 30 minutes and a lot of love and those people were involved in the movie, like at all, SIGN ME UP.

Buh?

Oct. 7th, 2011 10:55 am
trinityvixen: (got nothing)
Last night, I dreamed that I found an enormous dog on the street while walking around NYC with my roommates. It was slightly mangy-looking--it's head was balding and its fur was thinned all over--and it had some bleeding wounds. I wanted to take it to the shelter where I volunteer, but [livejournal.com profile] moonlightalice told me they wouldn't take it if it was openly bleeding. I'd have to take it to a vet first, to treat it, and then it could go to the shelter. Dream-me was very put off by this and wasn't sure if it was worth the investment to treat the dog only to take it to a full-service shelter where, if it wasn't adopted, it could be euthanized.

There was never any question of treating the dog, to the credit of dream-me, just a question of what to do with it after. I was trying to work out how to con, like, the ASPCA into taking it despite the fact that they rarely have space for animals, much less strays with injuries and mange, or whether I could possibly deal with a dog in my life (or if I could pass it off to someone like [livejournal.com profile] feiran, who has always loved dogs) when I woke up. I'm dunno what to make of this dream. I think I might just need more sleep to work it out. I'm feeling very dopey at work today, and even a little ill (like dizzy-ill, not cold/flu-ill). I cannot say why. Hope it blows over.

In more important problems-people-have news: this tumblr account is making me cry at work.
trinityvixen: (got nothing)
I had a dream last night where I was walking on the streets of New York City with my mom, and we passed a candy and ice cream shop. I did a double take as we went by because there was a dude looking in the window, and I realized on my second look that it was Nicholas Cage. I ran back and started to chat him up. Reality-me thinks Nicholas Cage movies are so bad they're fantastic, but Dream-me was a fan. Dream-me kept telling him how it was the greatest disappointment of the last few months to me that I missed getting to see Drive Angry in theaters (but that Dream-me would rectify that ASAP when the DVD came out) and that I had dragged out my entire family to see Season of the Witch, which wasn't that good, but goddamn but The Rock is, like, my favorite action movie ever.

I think I started to realize I had, inadvertently, insulted him about the Season of the Witch thing because he started to look uninterested and eventually said, "Yeah, that's great. Did you want me to sign that?" And he took a white paper bucket that I was carrying--we use them at work to bring mice down from our barrier facility--and signed it and walked two steps away to stare at the ice cream shop window intently. My mother asked me if that was as thrilling as I hoped it would be. I said not really, that he signed this bucket and now I had to keep it. What a useless thing.

Then I woke up and thought about posting to LJ about how I broke my Do Not Engage policy, vis a vis celebrities because I woke up still thinking it was something that had happened. It's only just now that I am more awake that I realize it didn't. I know exactly from whence all this has come, by the by--I was looking over my posts for the 30 Day Movie Meme, and there are not one but three entries with Nicholas Cage featured heavily--and, yes, The Rock is one of my favorite action movies of all time. Crazy brain. Do we secretly love Nicholas Cage? I don't know, but I am so looking forward to Drive Angry on DVD...
trinityvixen: (ivy what?)
I dreamt, vividly, last night, and I remember it so well, perhaps, because I was woken abruptly by a series of coughs that are the last remnants of a cold. (Yes, I caught a cold in summer. Sigh.)

Basically, I was walking up the steps to my parents house, after hanging out with friends, when two men--one of whom was James Van Der Beek--came up to me, rather agitated. In my dream, I instantly became alarmed because we had agreed not to meet for a while. This meant there was A Problem. They threw a metal tube (that was somehow also a drinking glass) at me and said that they couldn't keep it any more. It was a bit rusty, but I panicked because it could have easily been blood.

It probably was blood. We had killed somebody, months ago, and they were now throwing the last bits of evidence my way to hide/dispose of. As I ran into the house to sterilize and bleach out anything I might have touched ever (CSI says you can't type blood if it's been bleached!), I was trying to remember if, in fact, I had been a party to murder. How had I gone on living so indifferently since that sort of thing? I began to question whether it could even have happened, given that I hadn't really changed my lifestyle all that much. Was I a monster? What the hell...

Naturally, I awoke in the midst of that panicking and spent ten minutes at 5 am this morning coughing my lungs out trying to remember if I HAD KILLED SOMEBODY. Basically, it was a more macabre version of this dream that I do still have all the time. Unpleasant in the extreme, but it's good to know that dream-me is as appalled by the idea of my being able to kill people and live a normal life afterward as real-me is. I believe this particular twist came up as I was contemplating how I would have fared and, should I have survived, lived after participating in one of the Hunger Games. As for why James Van Der Beek was in my head, I blame this post on Project Rungay that I read yesterday.
trinityvixen: (ivy what?)
I had a series of weird dreams of which, because I've been too busy at work to post about until just now, I can only remember the one. It involved [livejournal.com profile] kent_allard_jr  wearing a badger costume and pecking at leaves on a sidewalk in the park. I....sorry? I really have no idea what that's all about.
trinityvixen: (clock)
I had a dream that I was avenging the death of a friend and proceeded to wipe out, like, a billion army dudes who were trying to invade my lawn. All my other friends were high-fiving each other and going back into the house for drinks, giving me the o.O face when I was still a snorting, wheezing maniac coming down off homicidal highs into guilt-wracked, PTSD lows. Then the lawn flooded and everything below this staircase leading up to the balcony flooded and I started to, grudgingly, go back in to relax and "celebrate." I noticed, on my way in, some strange silver coins that were oddly shaped and I dove for them. Turns out they were Ye Olde Romane Coines. Having something new and shiny to think about instead of slaughter, I was about to run inside and show everyone when I woke up.

Now I'm giving my subconscious the o.O face....
trinityvixen: (dude)
I dreamt last night that I was on a cross-country trip in my mother's minivan with my roommates, [livejournal.com profile] feiran and [livejournal.com profile] darkling1. At some point, we stopped and picked up, like, an abandoned lamb on the side of the road. While I worried about what to feed it--did it still need mother's milk? would it eat grass?--[livejournal.com profile] feiran took over driving. Somehow or another, we ended up at a port, and she started to back the van down a pier. I shouted at her to stop and throw it into drive instead of reverse. She kept going backwards and we ended up in the water. I promptly started freaking out about how to get us, the lamb, and our cats out out of the van before it sank to the bottom of the quay.

This is the second drowning dream I've had in a week, both times I was drowning with or because of [livejournal.com profile] feiran. I wonder if this has anything to do with the water fight we had two weeks ago...?
trinityvixen: (balls to that)
I'm out the door for my Stats final in a few minutes. I think I'll be okay. Keeping my fingers crossed, though, which hurts because I burned half of them last night cooking. My fingers on my writing hand. Geeeenius, I be it.

At least I had no huge anxiety dreams last night. I did dream that the burn on my pinky swelled up into this huge blister, but other than that, I just dreamed that my brother sent me an e-mail with a picture of a crowd at a football stadium. He'd enlarged one area because he couldn't believe who was sitting in the crowd: it was either my cat, Wally, large as a person, or Lu Bu from Dynasty Warriors. Either one would probably not be fun to attend a game with--Wally because he's large and skittish and would freak out on you, and Lu Bu has those head feathers that would really ruin your view...

Okay, enough. Test time. Ciao!
trinityvixen: (ivy what?)
Said dream still gets the Poison Ivy o.O face icon.

I dream last night that there I was in a giant, well-lit two-floor mall with a gaggle of celebrities fighting off incremental incursions of some menace or another. (When I woke from this dream, I was sure that we were fighting Terminators. Go figure.) Alas, the only two celebrities I can remember being there with me were Gerard Butler (blech) and Michelle Rodriguez (I'LL TAKE HER).

The funny part is that even though I was in the middle of the siege, armed and armored, I was also directing the part that each celebrity played like I was directing my teammates in an RPG. When one of the enemy showed up, I'd select the options from each celebrity's action menu and let them play it out. They all spouted hilariously cliche video game lines, like "right!" or "I'm on it!" or "HUH!" Also, we were vulnerable to mud. Watching out to be sure you weren't set on or trapped by mud was a must.

Each celebrity had his or her own special move, too. The reason I remember the two celebrities I do is because I went to select Gerard Butler's special move, and it was "Bitch Slap." Well, that's what it was called. What it really was was the gesture you make when you do "talk to the hand" only he did it harder. So he, like, flat-palm punched out at people. I had him do his special move, and then, dying of laughter in the dream, I ran into Michelle Rodriguez coming up the elevator. I started to tell her the story of Gerard Butler's hilarious special move, and she was all annoyed because we had incoming.

I think I'm free to continue doing my own dream analysis on this one (ooh, could this be a trend of me actually understanding what my brain does to me when I sleep?). Here goes: I need to stop looking at celebrities doing anything online (pooh, there goes Project RunGay) and I must never play BioShock for more than six hours at a stretch. There, dream analysis done.
trinityvixen: (clock)
The idea was, last night, to get to bed early, get loads of sleep, and wake up refreshed so that I could then spend the next night (tonight) not sleeping at all but playing Mass Effect 2 until either my eyeballs or my wrist gave out.

(Aside: OH MY GOD, IS THERE NO WAY TO EXPRESS THE PAIN OF CARPAL TUNNEL FROM PLAYING VIDEO GAMES TOO LONG WITHOUT IT SOUNDING DIRTY?)

Of course, my Statisitcs homework turned out to be hours long. He chopped three problems off because we hadn't gotten to the material he intended to cover in time, and I was still up until 3 am. Note to self: start homework earlier.

The best part of the not sleeping much is the part where I dreamed that I had been bitten by a bug like a cockroach. This was icky but manageable until the point I realized that the bug had been infected with a parasite that subsequently infected me. Dream-me was in hysterics about how there were now open sores on my body. These sores were holes into my tissue and every so often I could squeeze them to make the stuff coming out of them come out faster so they wouldn't swell and burst on their own (kind of like a pimple).

What was coming out of them? LADYBUGS. These gaping holes in my skin ejected LADYBUGS from my body. There are not words for the revulsion I felt as I watched the hole in my arm bunch together around a bulge when I pinched it and BUGS CAME OUT. LADYBUGS. THEY ARE NOT CUTE WHEN THEY ARE UNDER YOUR SKIN. I WILL NEVER RESCUE ANOTHER LADY BUG AGAIN.
trinityvixen: (ivy what?)
On my way to the library before work today, a woman walking with a cane came across the intersection perpendicularly to where I was waiting to cross. She looked like she was saying something to me, so I popped out a headphone to be sure. She seemed to have stopped speaking, almost seemed to be waiting for my response, so I said something noncommital. I asked if she was cold, ha ha, it's cold outside, etc. (Actually, though it might just be that I've traded jeans for corduroys, it feels almost balmy out.)

Her response: "I don't feel cold because I've had so many strokes."

o.O???

Earphone went right back in and I all but ran across the street. What was I thinking? NEVER ENGAGE!

This is something dream-me took to an illogical extreme in my mid-morning dream. It features Christopher Lee but was not technically a nightmare. Who knew that was possible? )
trinityvixen: (clock)
I had several dreams last night, all vaguely stupid in a way I recognized but could not use to overpower the stupidity. One involved me and my family--but not my real-life family--existing in some 1970s-esque mansion with a giant pool that just happened to have a shark in it. And people kept going into the pool and getting 'et, and it was both horrifying and horrifically stupid! (Keeping with the 1970s motif, one "uncle" of mine, with a giant moustache and a horrible tan jumpsuit died manfully.) How were we going to solve this terrible problem!? Uh, stay out of the pool? Drain it and let the shark die? Hello?

This was about the tenor of all the dreams, though it's the only one I remember. Awesome, subconscious, thanks for that.
trinityvixen: (Doom)
This morning, either just as I woke to my alarm or shortly before, I dreamt that there was water dripping from my ceiling. Since I'm not so narcissistic as to assume you all remember, I'll just mention that this was technically a nightmare by dint of the fact that I do have water dripping from several parts of the ceiling in my apartment.

However, in my nightmare, the drip was above my head, and it woke me (in the dream) by dropping cold water right onto my face. I spluttered awake (in the dream!) and looked up, horrified to see no sign of water damage but a definite future drop starting to well up on the ceiling.

Moments later, as I rushed out of bed to go get the super before my bed was ruined, the ceiling collapsed. There were boards and plaster all over the foot of my bed (despite the leak being at the head of it) and I could see up the hole, through the floorboards to see our upstairs neighbor (one of them) looking down from the bathtub.

I woke up newly resolved to get those damn leaks fixed before I disappear for vacation. I NEED to get that done.
trinityvixen: (cock)
Last night, I dreamed that my parents' house was under siege by zombies.

You'd be surprised to learn that this isn't a frequent dream for me. )

...and woke up. I blame our trip to the Met's Samurai swords/armor exhibit for some of that dream.
trinityvixen: (got nothing)
I had two dreams that I remember. The first was something like a sequel or follow-up to the J.J. Abrams Star Trek movie. The people of Earth, being generous and welcoming, offered to let the Vulcans move to Earth since they had no planet.

This led to Vulcans conquering the British Isles. (Say that a few times to yourself. It sounds like lunacy, doesn't it?) I watched from a point of view looking down on the Earth from space as a dark color started to spread over the British Isles (a dark color with twinkly stars in it for whatever reason). Then I heard some commentary on this, probably from equally stupefied people forced to live through my subconscious imaginings, "Gee, if they can't even defend Britain from the Vulcans, what are they going to do against the Borg?"

My hand to God, that's how it played out.

The second dream was less interesting, more stress-related, I think. I dreamed that I'd somehow ended up behind the scenes at the New York Aquarium. I was there with my current physiology teacher, and he was handing out duty assignments for that volunteer job I couldn't afford to take. This led to me trying to figure out how to tell him that I hadn't been able to take this job and that I shouldn't actually have been there without him consequently holding it against me, grading-wise, in class.
trinityvixen: (kitty what?)
This is why Trinity does not do body-mod. )

I woke up still in a panic. Not cool, subconscious.

In other news, I saw two things this weekend: the pilot for White Collar and Drag Me to Hell. I enjoyed White Collar, though I'm simultaneously a tad bored by it, if that makes sense? It's very much one more of USA's formula works, with the bickering leads and the supporting characters along with a mystery to string you along for a season. I did like the episode, but I suspect a lot of that has to do with Matt Bomer's beautiful eyes. Well, that, and his incredible ability to be very vulnerable. He's less cocky than most of USA's other "characters," which is odd given the premise of his character. But there's a real defeat to him that is charming and heart-breaking at the same time. I don't know how well that works with his character being a master criminal and all. I'm definitely interested it watching more, but they're going to have to work very hard on improving or at least balancing the tone. But cheers to Matt Bomer's baby blues. I never noticed they were so disarmingly clear on Chuck, but that's probably because up until the end of season two, I kinda hated Bryce Larkin.

Curiously, a problem of tone was what kept me from liking Drag Me to Hell. I come down on the Army of Darkness side of horror-Raimi (as opposed to Evil Dead II), mostly because I think Raimi's strength is in humor. His attempts to be genuinely scary without being somewhat (or entirely) silly are just not that impressive to me. Drag Me to Hell wanted to be gross and funny at the same time, but the timing was off. Gross-outs went on too long, were far too staged to be anything but stomach-churning turn-offs. (Yes, there are stomach-churning turn-ons, and, yes, it is possible to tell the difference.) Usually, when something is dragged out, it becomes ridiculous. The problem with the gross-outs in Drag Me to Hell is that the set-ups were so ludicrous that they were, themselves, the joke, not the fifteen extra seconds of gratuitous fluids being projectile-vomited into the heroine's mouth. That's another problem: repetition of the exact same gross-out gag. I just didn't find the balance between the funny and the not-so to be as finely tuned as Raimi's earlier horror work. It probably doesn't help that the film opened with a child being taken to Hell--little hard to laugh at that--and that I'd seen Paranormal Activity before this which had a similar bent but was genuinely scary (which made the humor all the better, since no one laughs louder than someone who is freaked out).

Worse, Drag Me to Hell was utterly predictable. I don't hold that against horror movies, generally speaking--there are only so many ways the horror can go: the heroine (it is almost always a woman at the center) wins; the heroine loses; or the heroine thinks she's won but the ghost/monster/undead slasher comes back at the very end. Options are a luxury horror doesn't tend to have, you know? What I resent is how telegraphed those endings are. [livejournal.com profile] feiran had seen the movie before, and she spotted the ending a mile off compared to me, but I still felt like I knew far too soon how it would play out. I knew the exact twist, knew the exact steps it would take to get there. Everything that wasn't on that agenda felt like extraneous noise and Raimi trying to reclaim some former glory. It's one thing to go, "Oh, this is an ending C movie (heroine thinks she's won, but...)" and watch anyway. It's another to go, "I bet she does X which leads to a scene where Y happens, and then there's a fake happy ending for Z-length of time, and then it's a C ending." That's how I felt about Drag Me to Hell. Very disappointing, on the whole.
trinityvixen: (balls to that)
Last night, I dreamt that you could teleport your friends if you downloaded their gamertags to your 360. This was fairly amazing except that you had to have someone at the given station to teleport people to it, which meant that you could get stuck on the other side if no one was at your place to teleport you back. So there was a lot of traveling and then people going, "Oh, wait, now I'm stuck here." Good times.

All clear

Aug. 5th, 2009 02:26 pm
trinityvixen: (horror)
Night before I go to the dentist, I have this horrible nightmare about waking up in my bed and practically spitting out broken teeth. My entire mouth is like full of teeth shards and I'm crying because I have no idea how it got so bad overnight. My mom just stares at me. Then I get to see inside my own mouth and it's even worse than it feels. There are gaping gashes in my cheeks where the broken teeth have cut through. It looks like a fleshy cave system ::shudder::

I guess it was a good way to get the heebie jeebies out of my system. Plus, no cavities!
trinityvixen: (horror)
I dreamed that the hook on the wall holding up my towel and robe fell off and I had to find a new spot to nail it in. When I went to do that, I chose a spot in my apartment that was covered in dead flies. (Like you do.) I only noticed after I started banging the hook back in and then freaked out because the flies had touched me. The next morning (in the dream), I woke up to find that the ends of my hair were covered in these bubbles. Inside of them were bunches of developing fly larvae. Every time I would gather my hair and squeeze it in my fist to crush the bugs-to-be, I would open my hand to find more bubbles sprouting off the strands.

I was considering chopping off the last foot of my hair and worrying about whether or not the infection would rise further up the strands when I woke up.

::shudder::
trinityvixen: (horror)
Because now I can report on my awful dream from last night!

This is some extremely delayed PTSD or something. )

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