GCF- ...creeping into my thoughts at night...

Monkees Dreams
I've changed from my old arrangement. The oldest dreams are here, at the top. Also, there are multiple pages, because just having one was getting a bit unmanagable. So, the newest dreams go to the end of the last page, dig? Also, dreams OTHER people have had are on a separate page.

Some time ago, I had my first (remembered) Monkees dream. They were living in my house, mainly in the living room and the spare room. I remember little bits and pieces of it, like hugging Mike and Davy, Peter being all stiff like in Mijacogeo... I think they were kind of out of it, half-there. It was strange.
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Davy was the jockey in a horse race. He had the full outfit on in light yellow, and the horse was kind of yellow-y, too. It was number 4. (See Gift Horse) I was sitting in some bleachers, like at a high school baseball field or something. Davy had the shorter, second season hair, Mike had his hat and first season hair, and Micky had his curly 'fro thing going. I don't recall whether Peter was first or second season. Anyway, everyone except Davy was in the stands, cheering wildly and singing unfamiliar songs, although one was kind of like Magnolia Simms. I was slightly above and to the left of them. Davy and the yellow horse won the race. Suddenly, I was in the middle of the infield sitting on top of a picnic table, scratching the horse's back like a dog's. It had kind of long hair for a horse, and it was lying on the ground or something. Everyone was congratulating Davy a little ways off. I yelled "Peter... Peter! Come over here and pet the horse!" Peter poked his head up out of the group, then things kind of shifted. Everything that had just happened was a "Lost Episode" that I was reading about in a magazine at my kitchen table. I was going to tear this big picture of the Monkees out to keep, and I tried to find the beginning of the article. I started dreaming about Star Wars Legos after that.
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Three short Monkee-related dreams:
I was shopping with Amy when I found a CD with a white cardboard sleeve over the box. It said "65 Links to 65 Songs of Michael Nesmith". I opened it up and started to read the liner notes, which shifted into a dream about Nicholas Cage and a woman named Akima.
In the second dream, my dad bought me a neon pink Monkees CD that came with a thick book. It was some kind of Greatest Hits CD. I could tell it was a dream because every time I read a word, it changed into another word, sometimes while I was reading it.
The next night I dreamt that I was looking over my mom's shoulder while she surfed the net. She opened up some Monkee pics, including some of Mike wearing nothing but a towel and his wool hat! "Oh, the shower pictures," she said. Eeek!
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"Peterkort" dream
(Peterkort Square is a shopping center near where I live. I did not consciously realize this until after the dream.)

    This dream came on the heels of a dream about a pair of Japanese businessmen running from a police. The Monkees, some other people, and I were dropped of at this work camp-ish place. We were wearing tan jumpsuits and all the signs were shaped like butterflies. There were lots of signs, and I thought I spotted one that said "Peterkort". (According to my journal, I also saw one that said "Petertork", but I don't remember that.)
    I went up to Peter and tapped on his shoulder. "Namae wa nan desu ka?" ("What is your name?" I *had* just come from a dream in Japanese.)
"Peter Tork." Everyone else was getting in some sort of line, but I slipped my arm through Peter's and went off to find that sign! We ended up in the lobby of something like a hotel. "I'm sure I saw it!" I said, after failing to find it. Peter said something like "It was cool anyway."
    Perspective shifted, and this is hard to describe, but somehow, I was Peter. I/Peter went to find the room that I/he was sharing with Davy. Davy was in a room at the end of the hall. He was sitting at a counter with two sets of room keys laying on it, and a large, blonde, middle aged woman was glaring at me from where she was sitting on the end of the bed. Davy handed me/Peter a set of keys and I/he wrote "Peter" on the key chain. Davy hurried me/Peter out and practically slammed the door behind me. I/Peter realized that I/he should have written the room number on the key chain, but couldn't find a number on the door. Things shifted again, and I was me.
    I went into a kitchen-y room that had a couch, coffee table, and big, deep, square, metal sink. A guy (taking a bubble bath in the sink) and a girl (sitting on the couch with Peter) were talking about how disappointed they were with Davy for being with that unpleasant woman. I accidentally knocked a firework into the water. (This was the night of the Fourth of July.)
    "David Jones is a kept man. He's only doin' her to get presents and things," I said, fishing the firework out of the sink and pouring water out of it. A well dressed man in another room asked us to keep it down. We ignored him.
    The guy in the bath asked where Micky was, and Peter said that he was looking for a dog. I wondered why Micky wanted a dog, and found myself sitting next to Peter on the couch. Mike and Micky came into the room.
    "I'm looking for a dog," Micky said, sitting next to me on the couch. Mike sat down on the floor on the other side of the coffee table.
    "We're actually looking for someone to watch the confusion and question marks cross their face," Mike said. (Did that make any sense at all? That's what I remember him saying.)
    "Oh, no." I buried my head in Peter's shoulder, knowing they were going to ask me a trick question. Micky patted my head, which had one of Mike's hats on it for some reason. Mike (still wearing his hat) grinned mischievously at me.
    "How do you know McDonalds has a dog?" Micky asked me. I struggled hard enough for an answer that didn't make me look stupid that I woke up. ---+---
Gotta write this down before I forget. I had a dream last night, and there really wasn't much about it that was Monkee related except this:
I was walking down the P.E. Hallway in my high school, and a loud, boisterous group of medical students (?) passed me in the hall singing the song Rosemarie from Missing Links. I asked them who sung that song and they looked at me like I was from Jupiter or something. "The Monkees," they said. "Missing Links." I followed them into this dark little lab room and asked them if they were Monkees fans. Again, I got the Jupiter look, and they acted like they'd never heard of the Monkees.
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Dreamt that Mike was flirting with me the other night. *sigh* Plagued by thought of Phyllis, however, which kinda ruined it. He was just there, it wasn't a specifically Monkees dream. There were a lot of people there, out in the woods on bleachers that turned out to have caves underneath them. There were a lot of bones underneath them, too, and I don't know why this didn't freak me out. Anyway, at a point near the end of the dream, I was sitting with Mike at a table, and he was flirting with me quite a bit, but I kept feeling bad about Phyllis. Phooey.
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Dreamt about meeting Micky. He looked young (curly 'fro!), but was supposed to be "current" Micky. He was supposed to be an old friend of my parents' I think. We met at what was supposed to be my house late at night the first time, and then I talked to him in a place that was kind of like a bar the second time. This was kind of a freaky dream, since I was extremely tired that night but awoke during the night several times. The first time we met, we talked and talked for a long time, but I don't remember what we talked about. It was fun!
---+---     This dream started out in an arena/theater kind of place. My friend, Jodi, was sitting a couple of rows away from me, and I was sitting by my Humanities teacher. I bought a can of pop, and everyone seemed shocked that I was allowed to drink it in among the seats. We were going to watch a play at first, then the opening act for a concert came out. I think they were supposed to be someone famous, like the Rolling Stones or something, but they sang all Monkees songs, notably Circle Sky. These guys were in their late 50s, and they all wore white suits. I went down to the stage to take pictures with a bunch of other girls and women. We all had very similar cameras, and my friend Amy was down by the stage with me, even though she knows nothing about the Monkees outside the fact that I love them. The Monkees came out wearing purple plaid shirts, jeans, and they had white paint on their clothes. Micky was wearing a backwards baseball cap over his curls. I told the stage manager that the guys would be rejected by the audience in those clothes, and he agreed. He cut the lights (at this point I was bumped into and dropped my camera, and accidentally picked up someone else's, and some girl nearly blinded poor Micky with her flash) and the guys ran backstage to change. Except Mike.     I ran out to get Mike, and pulled him backstage, urging him to change his clothes. He had a streak of white paint on his left cheek. The stage manager said something about bleaching a birthmark out on Mike's face. The four of them changed their clothes backstage in front of all the girls and stagehands. (I turned away to give them privacy. I don't know why. *EG*) Mike had put on a very similar shirt to the one he had on earlier. I took the shirt in my hands (I could feel his chest underneath! *swoon*) and scolding him for wearing practically "the same damn thing".     Later, I went back to the studio to get my camera, or at least leave a phone number so the person who did have my camera could call me if they came in to get theirs. (Did that make sense?) I had to go through and find this warehouse like room that had a bunch of people waiting in a line. After I got out of there and was wandering out, I met up with Mike again and... woke up. Damn!
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I had a dream last night, and I'm pretty sure Mike was in it somewhere. I said something to Andrew this morning about KNOWING I had a good dream but not remembering any of it. He made some insinuations about what exactly I dream about Mike that I'd rather not repeat, but I said I wouldn't complain. *g*
Can't remember. I know I had a dream a few days ago where I was hanging out with Martha, Andrew, and Mr. Wunder (a former English teacher of mine and big, big Beatles fan) and eating pizza. At one point, I was talking to some people and Mike was sitting across from me. He wasn't saying much, and he was wearing the blue hat. I showed him all the pictures on the front of a binder that I had printed off my computer after he showed a vague interest in them. He glanced at them, but I caught him looking closer when I got up to get something. Something about the song Calico Girlfriend.
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Eric (a guy in my English and Calculus classes) was wearing this all over mechanical body thingy. It reminded me of Seven of Nine from Voyager. It was a musical instrument, triggered by his movement, and it played pretty, classical music. I had the mental impression that it was some sort of trap or a trick. This was an interesting dream because I was Mike through most of it. Sometimes I was a detached observer, like I was watching a movie or something. Mike was in a little room, like an old barn or grange hall (somewhere where you'd square dance). There were lots of people there, and Mike was sullen and upset about something. Outside, everything was paved with brick, a lot like the Market Street Pub or the park blocks in Portland. Mike sat on a low wall with a red mahogany guitar that looked just like the one from the Circle Sky scene in Head or the Naked Persimmon scene in 33 1/3 Revolutions Per Monkee. He only used the really simple chords that I know, trying to impress my dad (!)(?). He put the guitar in a gig bag (a cloth guitar case) and set it down in my living room. I had a vague impression of magic/witchcraft, but that can be blamed on reading the fanfic "Davy's Secret" at Melisssa.net.
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I had kind of a scary dream where it was raining fish and the occasional dead person. (You heard me.) Why is this Monkee related, you might ask. Well, toward the end I was wearing one of Mike's hats. So there.
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I was going for a bike ride, which was surprising for two reasons: it was really easy to go up and down hills, and I NEVER ride my bike, especially on streets. I live in the middle of NOWHERE. I had gone quite a ways before I realized that I hadn't told anyone where I was going, and that I had better head back to my house. On the way back, I stopped at this interesting little Southwestern themed shop on a corner where there is an orchard in real life. (This would be fairly close to my house.) My dad was in there, buying incense. He asked me what kind I liked better, then realized that I wasn't supposed to be there, I was supposed to be at home, and he got mad. Then it was Micky who had been naughty, and the shopkeeper (a rather large woman) wouldn't let him buy anything, or let me, Mike, or Jodi (my friend) buy anything either. Micky wanted to buy candy, which looked like colored sugar. Bleah. Anyway, he stayed in that section and spilled a lot of it on the floor, mixing the colors up. I remember something about there being four holes in the top of the bag that you would buy the candy in, like when you buy stuff in bulk. Mike found a really cool bracelet, one of those "power beads" kind, made out of hematite (shiny, silvery rock), and he really wanted to buy it. I specifically remember him telling me he thought that it was really "groovy". I took the bracelet (which cost $3, I remember that) up to the shopkeeper, and in a passable imitation of Mike's accent, told her that my friend thought it was really groovy and it would mean a lot if we could buy it. She let Mike, Jodi and me buy stuff, but still not Micky, as long as we didn't mind that we'd be hurting his feelings. We didn't really care. I tried to toss the bracelet to Mike, but I'm terrible at throwing things (I throw like a girl, hahaha.) The bracelet now had a couple of yellowy-green (chartreuse?) beads in addition to the hematite. I had a black bracelet on my right wrist, and Mike had 2 bracelets on his left wrist. I considered switching so it'd be easier to write. I was looking for a blue one (since that is my fave color). I could smell leather and a little cologne (yes, sometimes I can smell things in my dreams, and no, I wasn't just smelling something in my room because I don't have a leather jacket anymore) and looked down to see a black leather jacket sitting on a black and chartreuse backpack. "Mike's," I thought, and reached down to touch the jacket lightly. Jo came up and said that it was a good thing the guys didn't see the poster on the wall, half hidden by a rack of MORE bracelets, although these were almost small enough to be rings. It had the picture that's on the inner tray of Headquarters and a big red Monkee logo below it. It was kind of fuzzy, like it had been printed on a crummy printer. I sat down next to the sales counter and started sorting through some little cheapo craft kits. They had a set that was cross-stitch or something, and it said "60's London" on the label. It had the heads of four singers on it, and one of them was a poorly drawn Mike wearing a *drumroll* chartreuse hat! A couple of other kits had Mike on them. It was a bit like a time travel fanfic where we had to shield the Monkees from knowledge of their future. Mike sat down with Jo and I, and he had an iron and one of those little kits where you iron the plastic beads together in a shape, you know? He was trying to make a heart shaped on that was diagonal rainbow stripes on one side and yellow on the other. He said, "Impressed?" or something like that. He was paying attention to Jo and not me, so I started to get a little pissed off, and tried to fix a bracelet that was an ugly 70s shag carpet color green.
---+---
I was touring a city, and every building was entirely hand built by a single person. (One person per building, not everything built by the same person.) There was this HUGE arena-type building that had a large open area in the middle. (You know, like the places where they play pro-basketball and all that other sportsy stuff.) Anywho, it scared the crap out of me. I'm always kind of afraid that I'm going to fall off a balcony or something. I went home, and was fiddling around on my computer. Mike, (possibly) Micky, and a strange amalgam of my dad and Mr. Babbit were there. (The Mr. Babbit from the Chaperone.) Mike was sick, I think. For some reason, I kept envisioning ways to knock either Mike or the maybe-Micky unconscious. I made chicken soup for Mike and ramen for me, but when I went back to the computer, Mr. Babbit/Dad threw out the soup and gave the ramen to Mike. I was pissed.
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Dreamlet: The four Monkees were sitting around and Mike was talking. I don't remember what he was talking about, but his accent was... well, it was actually his accent, it sounded like him. Peter said, "Hey, Mike, she got your accent right!" Mike: "But she'll forget it." And then, alas, I lost it, he didn't sound like himself anymore.
---+---
This old lady and I went to visit someone in a hospital. It was a VERY nice hospital, mind you, with dark wood paneled walls and blue shag carpet in the main room. (Orange shag in the kitcheny dining room. It seemed like a little apartment.) This person was Mike, circa 80s with the facial hair and all, and he was hiding in the closet. Hyde from "That 70's Show" was there with me, too. I think I went into the kitcheny dining roomy thing place, and when I came back, Mike was out cold and lying on a bed that seemed more like a fold out sofa. It had a blue blanket. The lady was hooking a pulse monitor clip thing to his finger. Something slipped through the curtains over the sliding glass door and I gave a little yelp, grabbing it. I was thinking of spies and assassins for some reason. It was a leather bull whip or something, and Billy, a cowboy, came through the door and said I yelped like a coyote. Humph. Anyway, all these other people were coming in and hugging me, like they were cousins or something. One of them looked like Tony Shaloub. (The engineer guy from Galaxy Quest, and the horror author Ian Stark in the short lived sitcom "Stark Raving Mad".) Anyway, Mike was starting to wake up and I was talking to Hyde (who is pretty cute, ya know?) who was standing next to the bed, and my mom went and woke me up by talking to the dog.
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Part of a larger, weirder dream: I was looking through this notebook (I was in my kitchen) that had strange Monkee CDs (The Monkees in the UK is one that I seem to remember) in it, and an OLD diary from a time when I would not have been able to write legibly enough to keep a diary. Anyway, Davy was trying to read it over my shoulder, but I didn't want him to because most of the text was "Oh, Davy is so cute, I love Davy Jones, blah, blah, blah." I think I ended up just letting him read it and being embarrassed.
---+---
I dreamt about circa 80s Mike again. It was kinda cool 'cause I kept calling him "Robert Michael". In fact, at one point, I asked someone where Robert Michael was, and they said "Who?" and I said, a little exasperated, "Mike!". Peter made a brief appearance to etch a little design in the window on our back door. I asked Mike if he was done with his, or had he just drawn it on. He got a little offended and said he painted it, and sure enough, when I looked again, his design was painted to look like stained glass. I think it might have said "I Love" but I don't remember who it said he loved. (This dream was pretty much nonromantic. Damn.) He also painted some illustrations in a book, which were just gorgeous. There was something about a barn in my back yard, but I don't think that had anything to do with Mike. I don't remember how it happened, but the house I was in was suddenly filled with people, some of whom were from the past, some of whom were from the future, and they were all eating this big banquet dinner. I was looking and looking for Mike, but I couldn't find him. Then I knew I'd find him in a room that didn't have people in it and just as I was about to find him (I was eager to talk to him), I woke up.
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I had a dream that I was taking pictures of Mike in concert, which was pretty cool. I don't remember much else, besides the woolhat and sideburns and ending up with a picture about the size of a baseball card. I think my dad was in the audience with me, and I was possibly trying to change lenses on the camera.
---+---
This is so frustrating! I *know* I dreamt about the Monkees last night, but for the life of me, I cannot remember what happened!!! I remember someone messing around in the sand at the beach, but I can't remember who. Mike was there... I think. I dunno! Arrgh! That'll teach me. Next time I dream, I am totally making sure I write it down.
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I dreamt that I stumbled upon a group of girls I had never met before at my school who had formed a Monkees fanfic writing club. Two of them gave me nonsensical answers when I asked who their fave was, and I think I arbitrarily decided one was a Peter fan, possibly because I know the least about Peter. We talked about tapes and exchanging and a little about fanfic writing. They wore matching T-shirts and were very organized. My friend Andrew was briefly there, but not for more than a second or two.
---+---
The night I got the "Monkees Talk Downunder" CD, I dreamt about the Monkees around the time of Head, when their careers were really fading fast. They were desperate to revive their careers and were willing to participate in some humiliating things, like dressing up as different ethnic groups and being persecuted for a day. Possibly THE weirdest dream I've had about the guys yet.
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I was at a concert (a 60s concert) and I lingered until most of the audience had left. I was really close to the stage which was practically floor level. The Monkees were exhausted and Peter told everyone "No autographs!" and lay down on a row of seats. A couple of girls had their eyes on Mick and Pete, I think. One girl had her father with her, but her older sister told him he could go home, and I think they pursued their chosen Monkees. The rest of the dream was pretty kissy-kissy with me and Mike. (Muhahahaha!) He asked me to go with him on the rest of the tour... I don't think I ever answered before I woke up.
---+---
I had a dream about Nez and we were in love. Sounds good, right? Wrong. He betrayed me.
Somehow, myself and several others from my high school and general time period were transported back in time to a battle. At first there were a couple of chivalry elements but it went further back to that. Armor of leather and bone, barely any metal in the weapons. I had a bone shield, a dagger, a long carved spear, and I had set aside some antler I had found to make arrow heads. Eventually, it was time to join people down on the "field". I saw a few former classmates down there, wearing some armor, but I had "gone native" more than anyone else in the way I dressed. I pushed through the crowd and found Michael sitting with some others in a circle. I announced myself in rough English, like I wasn't a native speaker or something: "I am his woman." People looked at Michael, and his eyes flicked to a girl at his side. I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. He asked to talk to me alone. He admitted that he had had sex with her. Shock, betrayal. But he loved me. They were lonely, scared, he didn't know where I was. A little better, but I still hurt like hell. I tried to remind him that we were supposed to be faithful to each other. I tried to find something I could give him to remind him of our fidelity if I ever had to go away again.... and the dream morphed into a quest to get home. In retrospect, yeah, it was sad, and I was kind of in a bad mood all day, but it wasn't life changing or anything.
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Long time no dream... A while ago (I kept forgetting to write it down) I dreamt that I met Peter circa 1980s. It was at school or something, a cafeteria like place, possibly my junior high. We talked and chatted and had a good time, and I suddenly knew Peter had become kind of smitten with me. I dreamt more about some of my acquaintance and friends. Seth (someone I vaguely know) complemented a tank top I was wearing twice, then asked who told me I could get away with wearing stripes. Later, I met up with Peter again, but I don't remember much more.
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I dreamt that the Monkees (current ages) were on David Letterman or something. Mike was there and looked REALLY old, but he was fairly thin (not as thin as on the show) and was wearing jeans and a blue wool hat! I had this on tape, and I was trying to rewind it to watch it again, and what I was watching turned into a talk show hosted by Alfred Hitchcock. The Monkees (circa 1960s) were working backstage, replacing letters on a light up marquee. They stumbled on stage, and for some reason were working in a wood paneled dressing room or something (it was no longer a TV show, it was just kind of third person. I wasn't there.) Mike stole some candy off the table, and kept trying to get some out of the bag when he heard people chasing them. The rustling bag was really loud, and it was strawberry and lemon candy, like this Japanese candy I like called HiChew.    Mike climbed out of the window and onto the ledge. Peter and Micky followed. I don't know where Davy was. It was only the second story, and not far to the ground so they jumped. I got the impression that they people chasing them were... zombies or something, more likely to splat if they jumped out the window. After that, it kind of turned into a scary dream about a Haunted House (a fake one, not really ghosts and stuff). Actually, it was like a really twisted Disney ride, like Pirates of the Carribean... With big Delta river boats and dancehall girls.
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