Mortaine’s Blog

I don’t watch the Oscars. This makes today one of the most un-entertaining days on television, because everyone’s showing either sports (Ohio vs. Michigan on basketball), or scenes from the red carpet. Yes, in America, we think that watching people get out of their cars is the best way to spend 5 hours on a Sunday afternoon.

So, I had two dreams that were pretty wild last night:

Dream 1:
I was out driving with my mom, and she was explaining to me how rats and rodents can swim really well, but that if they go below 3 feet, they’re sunk. There was a lake next to us, with a large white rat (by large, I mean about 5 feet tall), which was sinking into the water, like it was dead. We got into a boat and were skimming across the lake, when the rat suddenly grabbed hold of the back of the boat, I guess so it could come along for the ride. I pulled it off of the boat, after a struggle.

We arrived at twilight at a campground. There were two little lean-tos near the entrance, and a bridge over a sparkling silver brook. On the other side, I knew the woods were infested with were-rats, but that my companion (who was no longer my mother, but some kind of male adventurer type) had some kind of truce that they would leave us alone until morning. I went to my lean-to with a flashlight to stand guard.

I heard a noise outside my lean-to. I should not have turned on the flashlight. When I did, there were two large coyotes or small wolves there. I shone the flashlight in one of their eyes and stood up, trying to scare it off, but it stood its ground and let out a horrible snarl. I started yelling– the other canine ran off, leaving this one and me to fight it out.

At that point, I realized that, yes, I have a short-sword in my belt, thanks, because I am an adventurer. And even though I’m scared out of my mind, I’m not completely defenseless. I pulled out the sword to strike, but every time my initiative came up, I was too afraid to do so. Eventually, I did, but I didn’t feel I was very effective. Meanwhile, this animal was lunging and snarling at me; basically, I was using the sword to keep his big teeth from reaching me.

On about the third round of combat someone came up behind him (I assumed my traveling companion), to strike at his flank. In D&D terms, this is called a sneak attack when it’s done by a rogue, and he must have been a rogue, because he hit pretty well. Unfortunately, that got the wolf or coyote’s attention, and he turned, grabbing the rogue with his jaws and spraying blood everywhere as he pulled him around and started to shake him.

Still paralyzed with fear, it wasn’t until several rounds went by, and I saw that the figure in the wolf’s mouth may have been my companion, but he was also a giant were-rat (with white fur– not unlike the rat from the lake), and in very bad shape. I was even more scared, especially since it meant that I was alone in a forest of were-rats. One of them (were-rat or worlf, I’m not sure) screamed “Take a strike!” so I did, hitting the wolf in the neck and finally killing it.

I woke up shortly after that, but got the sense that I would now have to deal with the fact that my traveling companion was a were-rat, but seemed to be on my side (I was terrified he might try to turn me, too, though he was assuring me as I woke up that that was not the case).

Dream 2:
I was a non-bipedal robot called a Phoenix model. My lower base was essentially a chassis with wheels, though I had a double-shock system (for stability maybe?) I worked in a Sears store (though I’m not sure if I was just a floor model or if I did actual work there– probably both). Anyway, as a joke, I decided to “workout.” So I got on one of the more sophisticated treadmills and rode on it. For 18 hours straight. No one noticed. I thought this was sad– I was hoping someone would say something to me, so I could make a corny joke about training for a marathon or something. Next to me, there was a bipedal robot (played by my friend Lise, aka ), who was less “human” inside than I, but who had a more human-like physique.

I was told at one point that I had a telephone call, which I thought was exciting. I got off of the treadmill to answer the phone. I was going to make some joke about being “Robota” (like Roberta), but I flubbed it up and said “Phoenix” instead (actually, I said “this is Rob- Ro- Phoenix… the Phoenix model. How can I help you?). It turned out to be a little girl and her dad. The girl wanted to come see me, to meet a real robot. I explained that she was welcome to come by anytime, although I do shut down periodically for maintenance at night. I also told her that I was on the treadmills right now. She got the joke and asked how long I’d been there, which I told her.

The next day, she and her dad came to the store, but they brought a camera crew from PBS, and a lot of gawkers. This got me off of the treadmill, especially since it seemed to make everyone extremely uncomfortable, even though none of them had even noticed I was there before. One thing I found was that my training had actually loosened my chassis enough that I could now more easily roll over rough terrain and no longer needed a paved road to go about. This was a real breakthrough for me– previously, I was confined to the store. I was released from the store and went out into the street, where I was greeted with jeers and threats of violence almost immediately. I wasn’t frightened or anything– just grateful that I could keep rolling away from the people who were yelling at me.

It is 4:30 in the morning. I have been awake for an hour. I finally got out of bed so my coughing wouldn’t keep John awake.

As soon as I got up, my nose started to drain, so I now have a box of tissues next to me and a rapidly-filling trash can.

4:30 in the morning.

On the East Coast, I suppose it’s 7:30, which means some people are actually awake. Oh, wait– it’s Saturday. If you’re on the East Coast (or really anywhere in the US) and you’re awake right now and you’re not on a night-shift schedule, my sympathies. Because it’s 4:30 in the morning and I’m awake and can’t go back to sleep.

I’m going to go to the doctor today, I think, to see about some kick-you-in-the-head cough syrup so I can get some effing sleep at night.

This is an archive of my shorter book reviews and notes, which historically have been posted over at the 50 Book Challenge on LiveJournal, but which I’m starting to move over here. I’m posting them with altered date-stamps, but they might show up in my LiveJournal cross-post anyway. Bear with me, please.

Note: Many of these books also have full reviews available in the book review podcast (RSS).
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I had the “honor” of wearing two stick-on nametags last night (due to going to a Weight Watchers meeting and a STC meeting).

Last night, I finally figured out how to skip around in a file on my iPod. This may not seem important, but when the iPod abruptly bumps me back to the beginning of the file, when it’s a 9-hour book (all in one file– why?), and the only method you have for fast forwarding is to press and hold the fast forward button while it skips ahead 8 seconds at a time…. well, you can see why this is frustrating. Especially when you are 7 hours into the book.

Anyway, figured it out and got back to my spot in The Autobiography of Martin Luther King, Jr.

Last night, I dreamed that I was back at UCSC with John, though I’m not entirely sure who was attending school. There was this series of dorms for long-term students. The dorm rooms had “Interdimensional meta-space” in them– not a big space, mind you, but a little one that you could use to put all of your books or whatever, and then you could have a less cluttered life. It was really cool– I spent a lot of time hopping from room to room, checking everyone’s space out (everyone’s dorm room was different). I ended up hanging out with various people, and felt guilty because I’d left John home alone, and I was still sick. So I ran across campus to get back to my room– and I was just flyin’ along when I ran into some kind of metal post that had been put across a walkway (and which detached when I hit it, though it did hurt). I was running so fast, I couldn’t stop– I couldn’t even figure out what had happened or why I had this post in my hands. Then this security guard saw me running with the post and made me stop and take it back, and I yelled at him that I was sick and it shouldn’t have been there in the first place. When I went to put it back, I couldn’t figure out how to re-attach it– but I saw this janitor/facilities guy standing in a corner watching me, and snickering, not helping.

I totally lost it and threw the post at him (which, by now, was all crumpled like paper) and screamed at him until I was completely hoarse and crying.

I headed back to the dorm, but got distracted, as Cindy Lauper was singing in the quad, and I thought how cool that she was actually just singing there, giving a free concert to the students. I kep heading to the dorm.

Then I heard this broadcast of President Bush speaking/campaigning. Just as the broadcast went to commercial break, you could hear Bush lose his cool, too, and scream at someone “How dare you! *sputter sputter* call me a murderer!” etc. He was really incensed.

Not to leave that opportunity, I went to the speech he was giving, and met John there. I ended up in a long, involved debate with the President about his various policies, resulting in me alienating the majority of the audience of his supporters. For example, he really didn’t like it when, confronted with the possibility that the Hollywood entertainment industry was backing “the other guy,” I shrugged and said “so what? I’m a lit major– you think it bothers me to have someone who knows about creator rights?” and the like. At one point, he baited me back and tried to engage me in a sound-byte argument where I would tell him what would work to get me to vote for him. I paused and said “Mr. President, that’s a very long conversation; I don’t think you want to get sidetracked here from your message, so I’m going to decline to answer.” As you can tell, in my dream, Bush was extremely agitated when we started the conversation– completely out of control. I felt very vindicated. I then met up with Holly and her father afterwards, who both cheered me for the debate. And then, I told them I was so tired and so sick, I just really needed to get to bed.

Woke up shortly after that (actually, several times during, too– damn cat), but that’s kind of the long string of dreams I had last night.

John points out that we should get out the big, corrupt CEO vote, too– after all, if Bush loses, Martha Stewart and all her buddies will get pardoned four years earlier!