Werewolf Fog, Prophetic Dreams, and Three Fears

There's "werewolf fog" out there, as my dad puts it.

I like that.

It is creepy. I drove home in the dark after volunteering . . . it's thick. I wish it would be that way tomorrow so we'd get a two-hour delay.

Actually, no I don't. Of all days to have a two-hour delay, tomorrow I would probably like least.

Okay, the REALLY scary part is that I had a dream about this last night. My dreams are getting prophetic.

You know how the tornado siren went off at about 6:15 or so? Maybe you didn't hear it (like all you St. Mary's and Purdue people, lol . . . ), but it went off.

You see, the thing is, I had a dream last night that the tornado siren went off. I had left something important in the car, so I had to run out and get it. You see, everytime that there's a tornado in my dreams, which is quite often, as I am quite afraid of them, I always run to get my valuables: story, blankie-- yes, blankie; it's a subconscious security reflex . . . you psychologists should get it-- Piggy, BLL I and II, Pink Floyd, and Yukata Bunny-- and Tory and/or Neil should they be there and Mom and Dad not-- which has been several times as well. Usually they are in someplace awkward and unavailable, like upstairs in my room so that I must run upstairs and grab them and return downstairs in time, sometimes not making it-- like the time that the staircase collapsed from out from under me, rather like it did for Sirius-Jessica-Padfoot that one time in my insanely literal Marauder dream. So I had to run out to my car. It was INSANELY misty. It was eery and green-grey-- rather like tonight. I dove into my car to get the things out, but then the garage door blew off . . . and then the fog faded and everything was fine.

So, tonight, just as I am about to head out to the car to go off and volunteer, when the tornado siren goes off. I was in the laundry room. Now, get this: Every time the tornado siren rings in my dreams, I am always in the back of my house: the laundry room, the kitchen, or the upstairs bathroom, which all face the back of the house. This time, I actually WAS in the back of the house.

I looked out my window and saw the green-grey fog, and I was like, "Heck no, I am NOT going out to my car in that."

Yet I did, and it was fine.

Still, that was REALLY freaky.

It's not the first time it's happened, either; the last time the tornado siren went off at random, I had dreamed about a tornado the night before. This is just really freaky.

Tornados are weird. They fascinate me, like whoa. Yet they scare me to death. Obviously, seeing as how I dream about them a LOT. It's like a morbid fascination . . . I never want to encounter one-- yet I kind of do, just to see one . . . and I want to know everything about them, to perhaps protect myself from them . . . but they still scare me to death. Also, I have many, many dreams about them.

There are only three things that do that.

Tornados: I used to hyperventilate when the siren rang. I still get very tense and freak out. Yet I researched them A TON in about 4th grade-- I read that National Geographic article on them and other natural disasters published in about 1996 to the point that it got all flabby under the edges (the only other articles I have done that to is the "Japanese Women" article of 1990 and the "Japanese Americans: Home At Last" from sometime way back in the '80s . . . you see, my dad's gotten them since he was ten and saves them all in a cabinet under our radio at home, lol). It was the first National Geographic article I read through all the way, in its entirety. They are my most common recurring dream theme and my most common nightmare. I usually am in the back of my house, I usually hear the siren, and I either wake up before I die (as in the house collapsing), the tornado goes away (those are very odd and unfulfilling and uncathartic), or the tornado does something ineffibly weird (such as splitting in two, vertically, or turning pink).

Atomic bombs: Obviously, they freak me out. What post-Cold War citizen isn't freaked out by them? I've been to Hiroshima. I've heard more horror stories than most people. Yet in Chemistry I clung to Mr. Swartzendruber's every word when he spoke on and about atomic bombs and fission and fusion. I have very, very weird dreams involving atomic bombs, though they're rarer. Sometimes they entail sirens, too (basically, I hate sirens, here . . . they always mean "Get the heck in your basement before you die because you're going to die!"). Usually, I happen to be Japanese in them. Go figure. Anyway, Hiroshima basically plays back out for me. Most times I die right on contact. Sometimes I survive, but am so scarred and disfigured I know I'm going to die, and I'm bitter about how some people survived completely intact and I didn't. Once, in the first atomic bomb dream upon my return home from Hiroshima, my dad actually threw the bomb at me. In my dream IN Hiroshima-- which was not really a very restful one; I thought Anne was going to die with all her hacking and whatnot-- I dreamt that I somberly showed Bush around Hiroshima (all that day I had been feeling these strong vibes from the ground), and he was receptive to nothing, and it really, really pissed me off. Theoretically, he's against nuclear warfare himself, seeing as how he doesn't want Iraq to have it, but he hasn't exactly gotten rid of ours, either . . . The whole nuclear disarmament thing is a real big paradox that would be awfully hard to solve.

Religious Fanatics: Okay, this is silly, and it's a little less so, but I think it falls under this category. I wonder if this really is a result of 9/11, and how many other people have this same fear and curiosity-- yet I bet it's just mostly fear, and more just for "terrorists"-- random people who blow people up. Mine actually does consciously have the aspect of religion in there. They scare me, because I can't convince them of anything-- fanatics being anyone, Christian, Muslim, Jewish, anything-- or even get them to listen to me. They take their religion to the extreme and will kill anyone against them. They're unstoppable and infinitely motivated. Yet that fascinates me. Their devotion, trust, and willingness to be a martyr sort of gives me a respect for them. As for the dreams . . . I think the one where I was "Mary," and the religious cult in the white robes came up to me with their Bibles and told me that Jesus had to come out violently for the Apocalypse and Second Coming, as according to the Bible, and then proceeded to cut off my head-- and successfully, and in doing so hurting my actual neck in my physical form when I woke up-- pretty much sums it up.

LOL the end of Soir de Fete from the Amelie soundtrack ends with a music box playing "Zippity Doo Da!" I just figured that out! That's hilarious!

Werewolf Fog, Prophetic Dreams, and Three Fears

There's "werewolf fog" out there, as my dad puts it.

I like that.

It is creepy. I drove home in the dark after volunteering . . . it's thick. I wish it would be that way tomorrow so we'd get a two-hour delay.

Actually, no I don't. Of all days to have a two-hour delay, tomorrow I would probably like least.

Okay, the REALLY scary part is that I had a dream about this last night. My dreams are getting prophetic.

You know how the tornado siren went off at about 6:15 or so? Maybe you didn't hear it (like all you St. Mary's and Purdue people, lol . . . ), but it went off.

You see, the thing is, I had a dream last night that the tornado siren went off. I had left something important in the car, so I had to run out and get it. You see, everytime that there's a tornado in my dreams, which is quite often, as I am quite afraid of them, I always run to get my valuables: story, blankie-- yes, blankie; it's a subconscious security reflex . . . you psychologists should get it-- Piggy, BLL I and II, Pink Floyd, and Yukata Bunny-- and Tory and/or Neil should they be there and Mom and Dad not-- which has been several times as well. Usually they are in someplace awkward and unavailable, like upstairs in my room so that I must run upstairs and grab them and return downstairs in time, sometimes not making it-- like the time that the staircase collapsed from out from under me, rather like it did for Sirius-Jessica-Padfoot that one time in my insanely literal Marauder dream. So I had to run out to my car. It was INSANELY misty. It was eery and green-grey-- rather like tonight. I dove into my car to get the things out, but then the garage door blew off . . . and then the fog faded and everything was fine.

So, tonight, just as I am about to head out to the car to go off and volunteer, when the tornado siren goes off. I was in the laundry room. Now, get this: Every time the tornado siren rings in my dreams, I am always in the back of my house: the laundry room, the kitchen, or the upstairs bathroom, which all face the back of the house. This time, I actually WAS in the back of the house.

I looked out my window and saw the green-grey fog, and I was like, "Heck no, I am NOT going out to my car in that."

Yet I did, and it was fine.

Still, that was REALLY freaky.

It's not the first time it's happened, either; the last time the tornado siren went off at random, I had dreamed about a tornado the night before. This is just really freaky.

Tornados are weird. They fascinate me, like whoa. Yet they scare me to death. Obviously, seeing as how I dream about them a LOT. It's like a morbid fascination . . . I never want to encounter one-- yet I kind of do, just to see one . . . and I want to know everything about them, to perhaps protect myself from them . . . but they still scare me to death. Also, I have many, many dreams about them.

There are only three things that do that.

Tornados: I used to hyperventilate when the siren rang. I still get very tense and freak out. Yet I researched them A TON in about 4th grade-- I read that National Geographic article on them and other natural disasters published in about 1996 to the point that it got all flabby under the edges (the only other articles I have done that to is the "Japanese Women" article of 1990 and the "Japanese Americans: Home At Last" from sometime way back in the '80s . . . you see, my dad's gotten them since he was ten and saves them all in a cabinet under our radio at home, lol). It was the first National Geographic article I read through all the way, in its entirety. They are my most common recurring dream theme and my most common nightmare. I usually am in the back of my house, I usually hear the siren, and I either wake up before I die (as in the house collapsing), the tornado goes away (those are very odd and unfulfilling and uncathartic), or the tornado does something ineffibly weird (such as splitting in two, vertically, or turning pink).

Atomic bombs: Obviously, they freak me out. What post-Cold War citizen isn't freaked out by them? I've been to Hiroshima. I've heard more horror stories than most people. Yet in Chemistry I clung to Mr. Swartzendruber's every word when he spoke on and about atomic bombs and fission and fusion. I have very, very weird dreams involving atomic bombs, though they're rarer. Sometimes they entail sirens, too (basically, I hate sirens, here . . . they always mean "Get the heck in your basement before you die because you're going to die!"). Usually, I happen to be Japanese in them. Go figure. Anyway, Hiroshima basically plays back out for me. Most times I die right on contact. Sometimes I survive, but am so scarred and disfigured I know I'm going to die, and I'm bitter about how some people survived completely intact and I didn't. Once, in the first atomic bomb dream upon my return home from Hiroshima, my dad actually threw the bomb at me. In my dream IN Hiroshima-- which was not really a very restful one; I thought Anne was going to die with all her hacking and whatnot-- I dreamt that I somberly showed Bush around Hiroshima (all that day I had been feeling these strong vibes from the ground), and he was receptive to nothing, and it really, really pissed me off. Theoretically, he's against nuclear warfare himself, seeing as how he doesn't want Iraq to have it, but he hasn't exactly gotten rid of ours, either . . . The whole nuclear disarmament thing is a real big paradox that would be awfully hard to solve.

Religious Fanatics: Okay, this is silly, and it's a little less so, but I think it falls under this category. I wonder if this really is a result of 9/11, and how many other people have this same fear and curiosity-- yet I bet it's just mostly fear, and more just for "terrorists"-- random people who blow people up. Mine actually does consciously have the aspect of religion in there. They scare me, because I can't convince them of anything-- fanatics being anyone, Christian, Muslim, Jewish, anything-- or even get them to listen to me. They take their religion to the extreme and will kill anyone against them. They're unstoppable and infinitely motivated. Yet that fascinates me. Their devotion, trust, and willingness to be a martyr sort of gives me a respect for them. As for the dreams . . . I think the one where I was "Mary," and the religious cult in the white robes came up to me with their Bibles and told me that Jesus had to come out violently for the Apocalypse and Second Coming, as according to the Bible, and then proceeded to cut off my head-- and successfully, and in doing so hurting my actual neck in my physical form when I woke up-- pretty much sums it up.

LOL the end of Soir de Fete from the Amelie soundtrack ends with a music box playing "Zippity Doo Da!" I just figured that out! That's hilarious!