Failure to kick ass, even in my dreams
Oct. 25th, 2005 05:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
triadruidGyeah. So last night I went to bed early, immediately after the potluck, due to not feeling well. Read for a bit and then got sleepy about 9 (haven't been getting even 6 hours real regular-like lately), so I thought I'd take advantage of that, and sleep.
At least one of my dreams involved me apparently taking the role of Steven Seagal... I'm not sure if I was him, in one of his movies, or *actually* him, but I was an overweight ex-ninja living in Japan with my family. And apparently there was an evil crime lord/supergenius after me - it might have been L. Ron Hubbard; I know this because I had a fly-on-the-wall perspective when he got into a commercial passenger jet, said something witty to the man in the seat next to him, and pushed a button on a device he was holding which transformed the big jet into something more like a DC-9, but with enormous turboprops.
He then flew this to Japan, causing a minor tsunami along the way that merely lapped at the public beaches, but swamped the President of Japan's private beach, and mine (this is where I actually entered the story). I knew that Something Was Afoot, but before I could do anything about it, he had used the distraction of the tsunami to somehow steal my wife and kids (and I think half of my house), separating me from them with a couple of square miles of jungle and cliffs and whatnot. Luckily, the part of my house with the ninja gear was still there, so I could scale the cliffs (with my Dragon-Toe™ boots) and after huffing and puffing along the jungle floor for 10.2 hours, I had gone the 12 miles or whatever to where he was holding my family. With a news crew, apparently.
Confused, I nevertheless sat down for the interview (which seemed to be about our deadly rivalry). Sat down next to him, in fact. When I was asked what I planned to do about his dastardly deeds, I cleverly lashed out with my Dragon-Toe in a cross-body kick, intending to spear him right through his black little heart. Unfortunately this did not work quite as planned, for several reasons: a) I was much too slow, and he blocked me with his arm (repeatedly), and b) the spikes/cleats on the front and back of my boot had suddenly become vulcanized rubber instead of gold-plated steel. Bummer.
So I'm staring at my nemesis in confusion, and my interviewer, who is apparently JR from work (he works in Liquor Control/Regulated Industries, mind you), asks how I got a permit to get those boots into the country, since they're outlawed and all (at least, the steel-spiked versions are). I babble some story about getting them as a gift at some competition (which had the benefit of seeming true, within the storyline), or buying them duty-free, or something...I'd had them a while, they were definitely dusty when I took them off the shelf. JR then asked me to step into his office for a moment, and said he probably couldn't do anything about them now, since they were rubber-tipped, but did I have insurance again? "Again?", I asked stupidly? Well, he explains, my insurance was stopped several months ago when the autopay didn't go through, and I needed to reauthorize payment after that, only I never knew I had to go through the whole process again, so I've been 4-5 months without insurance, and they're going to want back payment, and I can't afford another $100/month as it is... and then I woke up.
Bleah. No more heavy Scottish meals right before bed.
At least one of my dreams involved me apparently taking the role of Steven Seagal... I'm not sure if I was him, in one of his movies, or *actually* him, but I was an overweight ex-ninja living in Japan with my family. And apparently there was an evil crime lord/supergenius after me - it might have been L. Ron Hubbard; I know this because I had a fly-on-the-wall perspective when he got into a commercial passenger jet, said something witty to the man in the seat next to him, and pushed a button on a device he was holding which transformed the big jet into something more like a DC-9, but with enormous turboprops.
He then flew this to Japan, causing a minor tsunami along the way that merely lapped at the public beaches, but swamped the President of Japan's private beach, and mine (this is where I actually entered the story). I knew that Something Was Afoot, but before I could do anything about it, he had used the distraction of the tsunami to somehow steal my wife and kids (and I think half of my house), separating me from them with a couple of square miles of jungle and cliffs and whatnot. Luckily, the part of my house with the ninja gear was still there, so I could scale the cliffs (with my Dragon-Toe™ boots) and after huffing and puffing along the jungle floor for 10.2 hours, I had gone the 12 miles or whatever to where he was holding my family. With a news crew, apparently.
Confused, I nevertheless sat down for the interview (which seemed to be about our deadly rivalry). Sat down next to him, in fact. When I was asked what I planned to do about his dastardly deeds, I cleverly lashed out with my Dragon-Toe in a cross-body kick, intending to spear him right through his black little heart. Unfortunately this did not work quite as planned, for several reasons: a) I was much too slow, and he blocked me with his arm (repeatedly), and b) the spikes/cleats on the front and back of my boot had suddenly become vulcanized rubber instead of gold-plated steel. Bummer.
So I'm staring at my nemesis in confusion, and my interviewer, who is apparently JR from work (he works in Liquor Control/Regulated Industries, mind you), asks how I got a permit to get those boots into the country, since they're outlawed and all (at least, the steel-spiked versions are). I babble some story about getting them as a gift at some competition (which had the benefit of seeming true, within the storyline), or buying them duty-free, or something...I'd had them a while, they were definitely dusty when I took them off the shelf. JR then asked me to step into his office for a moment, and said he probably couldn't do anything about them now, since they were rubber-tipped, but did I have insurance again? "Again?", I asked stupidly? Well, he explains, my insurance was stopped several months ago when the autopay didn't go through, and I needed to reauthorize payment after that, only I never knew I had to go through the whole process again, so I've been 4-5 months without insurance, and they're going to want back payment, and I can't afford another $100/month as it is... and then I woke up.
Bleah. No more heavy Scottish meals right before bed.
