all the stress in my brain

my life is kinda hectic right now. i'm working two jobs, I’m trying to start working for myself on the side as an amazing crafter type gal, i have a thriving band that i'm devoting a ton of time to, i'm going on vacation next week- which is awesome, don't get me wrong, but it means time off of work, which means a slight shortage on the income front, and on top of all that, i'm moving the week after i get back.

like i said, a little hectic.

also, a little stressful.

i think last night’s dream touched on some of those stresses.

right before retiring for the evening, i received the go ahead from my soon to be landlord/roommate to paint my bedroom, as well as set my photowall in the new room. very exciting.

as i fell asleep, thoughts of wall colors were floating in my head, and landed in my subconscious, where i decided that i didn’t have time to move/decorate, so i would have to hire a stylist. you know, a house stylist. it just so happened, i was great friends with one of the best house stylists in all of dreamland, who later turned out to be my dear friend Erik- who may not be super flamboyant in real life, but was double super flamboyant in this dream.

also, he looked like tobias from arrested development.

erik was going through his blue and white phase, so i left for work expecting to come home to blacks and greys with splashes of color (you know, the way i would have done it) and instead came home to this:

except shabbier. and not only was my bedroom all blue and white and pristine looking in a shabby sheek type of way, the living room/kitchen area was as well, which was NOT what i asked for.

all of dustin’s red and black had gone away. the painting of trent resnor that had been done by a friend was gone, the gun print was gone, the couch and the tv and the x-box were gone, the kitchen was pretty much non-existent, reduced to a tiny corner, all replaced by urban decay furnishings accented with thrift store finds, made to resemble a cramped manhattan studio apartment, and painted over with super white white and bluer than the ocean blue.

dustin was going to kill me.

in a panic, i started begging erik and his entourage to help me put everything back the way it was, which he ‘simply did not do, but’, he said ‘for you darling, anything.’

so we’re scrambling to haul all the new stuff out, and all the old stuff back in, which included tearing down the exposed brick wall, and repainting the normal ones underneath, and a couple of friends come to help out, one of them being my dear angela.

and angela, in my dream, walks right up to erik and says, ‘erik, i love you with all of my heart. we should be friends again.’ and she hugs him.

and that’s where this dream ends.

2 Dads

Last nights dream was pretty weird.

I lived in this giant mansion, filled with the children of rock stars. It was kind of like a boarding school, i had a room that i shared with a couple of kids, all about high school age- I'm pretty sure I was high school aged too- and it had tall locker like cubbies for us to hold our things, and was attached to a giant bathroom with these fancy shower stalls and 4 sinks in front of this giant wall long mirror. And since we were all the children of rock stars, i guess we were super vain, cause that's where we spent most of our time. Well, in the giant bathroom, and this downstairs rec room.

All of our mothers lived there, and they mostly just hung out and partied, and left all of the older kids to look after the younger kids, and it was always a bid deal when one of the dads came home. We were all really close, and kind of all had favorite 'parents' that weren't really ours. My favorite parent was a rocker mom's current husband, who was named Chaim, and was a mix of Gene Simmons and Mick Jagger. In my dream, I knew this, he was both people combined. And he was super cool, and we were pretty close, and he came home, and we're all pallin it up and chattin and laughin, but I felt strangely empty.

So, Chaim/Gene(who's real name actually is Chaim, by the way)/Mick goes to bed, and it's super late, so I'm climbing the stairs out of the rec room to go to bed as well, when one last dad comes home. I get super overcome with emotion, cause I know who it is. It's my biological father,I haven't seen him face to face in years. His name is Tyler, and I know he has another name, and my brain was searching so hard for it, but I couldn't find it, and I decided it was ok, cause he doesn't need two names. I'm running up the stairs as he's putting his bags down in the kitchen, and he hears me, so he starts down them(this is one of those forever staircases that only happen in dreams) and I crash into his arms, and he's holding me on the stairs, and I'm glad, cause my head settles right under his chin, and anywhere else we would be the same height. I'm kinda sad because of how old he looks, and I giggle cause he's dyed his hair red, and he kisses my forehead with his huge, monsterous lips, and I burst into joyful tears, because I love him so much, and I am so relieved to have him home, and I just feel so safe.

At the same time, I'm kind of amazed that he knows me, and that I'm his daughter, cause he has all of these legitimate daughters that he spends all of his time with, and we don't see each other much, and sometimes I'm afraid that he'll come home and not recognize me. But we're best friends, and as I talk to him, he really listens, and cares, and again, I'm just overwhelmed by all of these emotions, and the feeling that he loves me, just as much as those other, a little more legitimate daughters.

I tend to feel things ten times more strongly in dreams than I ever would in real life. Do you do that? Is in normal to feel super strong emotions in dreams? Cause I can't remember the last time i was so content and calm. So much so, that even in my waking hours, where my dad's name is David, and he's not really and international rock god, and I'm not in high school, and I don't have a couple hundred half siblings that I live with in total opulence, I'm still carrying this awesome sense of calmness and security, and I've kind of got this feeling of 'I can do anything", all left over from this dream last night.

Dreams are just crazy like that I guess.

Especially when they're about Steven Tyler being your father.