( May. 12th, 2009 11:02 am)
Do you know that feeling of shame mixed with pleasure you get when you satisfy an urge you know is wrong? I'm not talking about your secret pleasure for biting your nails, I mean that hardcore bad stuff like bestiality, scat or Chitty Chitty Bang Bang the musical? I imagine that people who have these urges but refuse to satisfy them for reasons unknown, might get dreams where they take part in their favorite vice and then get deeply shamed afterwards.

Speaking of, last night I had a dream that I was just going to throw away the leftovers of a giant chocolate cake (basically looking like the cake in Mathilda). I figured I'd just take a small bite of it, and then I couldn't stop and ate the whole thing. I felt immensely, almost sexually, satisfied before realizing that what I did had been wrong and I woke up with a feeling of deep shame and guilt. It took me about 5 minutes to figure out why I was feeling so bad.
I was too tired to write this morning, not having slept too good last night, so after an hour of staring at the screen, I decided to try and catch some shuteye. Cut to me having a series of nightmares including cross dressing, Bø i Telemark, clothes shopping with [livejournal.com profile] aj_stalin, running away from bad guys with [livejournal.com profile] 45hasle (who sacrificed himself so that I could get away with the secret plans for the building and save the day, but I couldn't seem to find my way out of the building even when he was distracting most of the guards with his fighting skillz), and the classic trying to get the larp finished and failing nightmare.

I woke up well rested and ready to keep working, or at least well rested, and was just going to check my email before continuing my chapter. And there it was:

An invitation to a Tupperware party. Me. Invited to a Tupperware party.

I didn't even know they still had those. Let alone that anyone would want to invite me to one. I'm not exactly the Tupperware type of person. Then again, it's for a friend who's just starting out her new, weird and kinda scary, career as a Tupperware saleswoman so I don't fucking know. We're not obligated to buy anything. Does anyone want to have a Tupperware party with me?
Today’s workday started with me waking up after a really disturbing ”dream” )

and rushing to the office. I feel pretty today, with pearls and a pretty yet utterly comfortable skirt. Wish I’d have had time for breakfast (fruit just isn’t the same as fibre in the morning), but I guess you can’t have it all. The other secretary, sweet Vigdis, was back and told me I’d forgotten to say if I could come to Siri’s retirement dinner/celebration. Ups. I of course said yes, and then found out it would be at Bølgen og Moi, a restaurant so swanky that I’ve never even sat foot in there, and we’re having a four course meal and drinks included. This is going to be so awesome!

My idea of reaching my goal of being strong, fit, slim and beautiful is a little bit hampered by the fact that my lungs still aren’t working. Going to work is enough to make me tired and I keep having to postpone fun stuff because I’m too tired from work to do anything else, which is very bad for band practice for instance. Blargh! Oh well, saw Dog Soldiers yesterday. Awesome. I love Lucius Verinus (you know, the guy from Rome) and now that he doesn’t have to compete with Titus Pollo, he was so utterly butch. Definitely a must-see.

Oh, and by the way, just because I put my dream behind a cut does not mean that I don’t desperately want your input on it! It freaked me out…

And, here, I bring you more memes.

”memememe” )
Today when I woke up (before sunrise I might add, turns out that being a vampire would not be a problem to me since I arrive at work before sunrise and leave after sunset. Yeah, go me...) the first thing I saw, looking out the window, was the guy living in the neighboring skyscraper (okay, so a very small skyscraper but I don't know what they're called. Blokk in English anyone?) making breakfast nude. And, when I thought about it, I remembered that I never actually see this guy in clothes. I've seen him have sex with his gay partner in the kitchen, seen him make dinner and breakfast in the kitchen, nude, but have never seen him prepare a meal, or eaten it, with clothes on. Anyways, this of course gave me "it's one fine day to be nude" to hum, so when I was walking naked to the shower I might have sung that to myself. Improving my day indeed.

Finally had a wacky dream myself. Will thus make a picture post of it. :)

lookielookie pretty pictures )
( Sep. 1st, 2006 12:43 pm)
I had another weird dream last night )
I had a great time at my mothers 55 birthday party ([livejournal.com profile] akselwestlund you missed a real blast of a party). She loved the gift I gave her, and we started the evening out with little pieces of food on a plate and pink champagne. Then came the most amazing assortment of tapas I've ever had, and red wine. I was not the only smoker so only a few hours later I was sitting in the dark on our porch chain smoking and discussing the things you can only discuss with someone after at least four glasses of wine, three glasses of champagne and a beer. We discussed the meaning of life if God did not exist seen from an existentialist perspective and the differences between Kafka, Suskind and Camus. It was amazing and I realized that I too wanna be the doctor in Plague(?) (Pesten by Camus), even though I still don't think Perfume by Suskind is a positive book. Then after even more drinks, we discussed the importance of rhythm in Tom Waits lyrics and the brilliance of Jetro Tull. I love being able to talk to someone who really gets what I mean when I say that I feel like I'm caught in the unbearable lightness of being (call me pretentious, but it fit at the time).

I was, however, really tired so when the party moved on to the "I'm so glad we can really talk to each other martine, because I love your parents so much and I think you're so interesting"-state, I could excuse myself an go to bed. That didn't really mean I left the party, since they were so loud that I could hear all conversation and the drunken singing, but I did finally fall asleep to lovely '70s radical songs promising revolution. Then I kept having the same dream over and over again. I dreamed I had a firing squad all pointing at me with SMG's and shooting me over and over while I was begging them to spare my face and watching my body get sprayed all over the sidewalk over and over again.
( May. 31st, 2006 02:08 pm)
I need a little help to interpret this dream because it's been bugging me all morning, and the feeling just won't go away. I figure it probably means that my subconscious is trying to tell me something, and since I have no idea what, I thought maybe you guys could help?

My dream )

It could of course just mean that I shouldn't watch horror movies during an exam, but that would just be dull, wouldn't it...
( Mar. 23rd, 2006 12:16 am)
I had a really freaky dream last night, in fact, I'm still freaked out. Could anyone help me figure out what its really about?

At the start me and my roomie, Marthe, was talking about hairdressers. She was trying to explain the way to the nearest headdresser from where I would be living, since I was a nine year old girl whos parents and siblings had all just died. I took the tram to the orphanage, and when I stepped in the door, I became this 9 year old girl with very blond, very long hair and blue blue eyes. I pretty much looked like those little girls you see in barbiedoll commercials, you know, cute as cupcakes. In the orphanage there were 6 kids (me included), a middle-aged man with a cowboy hat and an old lady. The old lady was the boss. Of the kids there was 4 undistinctive ones, me and a boy of twelve named Robert with black hair. I knew "Robert" was really Marthe, even though he clearly was a boy.

I was standing in front of the grown mans desk, when suddenly four indians appeared behind him. I knew they couldn't be real indians, because real indians don't live on Carl Berner (the place I was in my dream) and naturally deduced that they must have been demons. The man in the cowboy hat disapeared, and I knew I had to find him, since the demons got him. I started looking through cupboards, but the only thing I found was a blood drenched suicide note saying that he couldn't take it. I opened the door, and tried to look into one of the closets, but even though I knew I was standing in the hall, I could see my own legs as I was looking out from inside the closet. I slammed the door shut and whent to see the old lady.

I told the old lady everything that had happened, including the man with the cowboyhat's blood drenched suicide note, but the old lady just looked at me with a strange smile and said: "I've never heard of anyone who could talk about the demons and survive." I went back to look for the man, but as I was walking down the hall, suddenly, right in front of me, three copies of me as a 9 year old girl appeared. They were talking in scary voices and I couldn't understand them. Then, suddenly, all the children were gone and I was all alone in the big house. I managed to drag Robert/Marthe out of the closet I'd stared out of before, and we started saving the children together. When finally we'd gotten allmost everyone out and I was carrying the last two in my arms, Robert/Marthe stopped right inside the front door, turned towards the hallway closet and said "I have to go down to the unsinging lakes". He opened the door and whent inside. I spent only a second making sure the other kids got away before following him inside, but even so there were noone on the steps (that shouldn't even have been there) leading downwards. I followed after.




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