<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134</id><updated>2009-11-04T22:40:30.836-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tell Me Your Dreams</title><subtitle type='html'>A collection of the things that plague me while I sleep.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>29</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-4286534314350828428</id><published>2008-05-19T07:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T08:01:10.837-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dress Code</title><content type='html'>I had a dream last night that I was working for a man who had an obvious attraction for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was wearing a white tube top type dress with black, high heeled strappy sandals.  Apparently I had asked him in the dream if it was against the rules to wear the sandals.  His arms were wrapped around me squeezing me to him and he was physically aroused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the dream, it didn't bother me in the slightest.  Once I woke up it completely creaped me out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-4286534314350828428?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/4286534314350828428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=4286534314350828428&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/4286534314350828428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/4286534314350828428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2008/05/dress-code.html' title='Dress Code'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-3548932906379920533</id><published>2007-06-15T09:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-15T09:08:27.266-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Crazy Woman</title><content type='html'>I dreamed a woman was chasing me, trying to kill me.  I had a gun, some kind of a handgun, and I had turned as she ran through a doorway and shot at her.  I could see the bullet flying through the air, losing speed, and finally falling on the ground about 10 feet before her.  Terrified, I yelled to her "don't shoot, I'm pregnant!"  For some reason, she quit shooting at me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-3548932906379920533?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/3548932906379920533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=3548932906379920533&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/3548932906379920533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/3548932906379920533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2007/06/crazy-woman.html' title='The Crazy Woman'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-5734283190441694473</id><published>2007-02-11T13:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-11T12:29:37.686-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Gold Full Size Sedan</title><content type='html'>I dreamed that Dianne Keaton lived in my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had entered her house and stole a picture of a man and a woman on their wedding day along with several other pieces of paper.  She had caught me red handed in the act.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bolting for the car, the gold colored sedan, I hurried out the driveway and down the road only to discover a traffic jam of some sort.  Pulling a U-turn, I was forced to drive back past Dianne Keaton and turn on to M-32.  The car had absolutely no get up and go, I looked into the side mirror and discovered Dianne was running right next to the car, directly to the left of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the steering wheele was a button that I had only just discovered.  I hit the button and prayed it would speed up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-5734283190441694473?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/5734283190441694473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=5734283190441694473&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/5734283190441694473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/5734283190441694473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2007/02/gold-full-size-sedan.html' title='The Gold Full Size Sedan'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-3216756886200135775</id><published>2007-02-09T10:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T23:48:09.446-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Troubled Sleep</title><content type='html'>I did not sleep well last night.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I first dreamed that Charlie, Zachary, Thomas and I were on a raft somewhere in the middle of nowhere. The water was dead calm, the air was cool and moist, fog was thick. I had a sense we were in extremely deep water, and for some reason, I just knew the water did not contain oxygen and if you fell in the water you would sink to the bottom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charlie had begun leaning on the raft for some reason, he had reached into the water. In my dream, Thomas appeared as he did when he was 2 years old, able to walk around and talk but very much a tiny little guy with chubby arms and fly away hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Charlie had leaned over Thomas tumbled into the water sinking immediately. Instinctively, I jumped into the icy cold water and clutched him to me then swam back up to the surface. I told Charlie he had to stop what he was doing because Thomas had fallen into the water, I was afraid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was still in the water Thomas had fallen again into the water, sinking immediately. In my dream I dove into the water, barely able to see his tiny little form drifting down, and grabbed his arm pulling him back up to the surface.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I woke up, scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was awake for quite a while after this, more then an hour I would assume, even though I hadn't looked at the clock. My eyes were heavy, but I just couldn't sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point I did drift off.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was living in a house trailer and Charlie had come down the hallway to wake me up. He was standing before me as I lay in bed and he told me to get ready something was going to happen. As he said this in the dream, the real life Charlie had walked up to me while I slept and woke me up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-3216756886200135775?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/3216756886200135775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=3216756886200135775&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/3216756886200135775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/3216756886200135775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2007/02/troubled-sleep.html' title='Troubled Sleep'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-117002259104637318</id><published>2007-01-28T17:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T17:16:31.070-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dr. Phil, a Pool, Me in a Bikini</title><content type='html'>Name 3 things that you never thought would go together, ever?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just before I woke up this morning I dreamed that I was sitting poolside on a slatted chair wearing a bikini.  Thankfully in the dream, I had a somewhat bikini friendly body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Phil and the HR manager where I work were sitting side by side in the pool, Dr. Phil talking about how it had been a week since he had been sexually active.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the life of me, I can't understand why I had found this so humorous in the dream, but I had begun laughing so hard I was literally snorting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snorting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In real life, I have never snorted while laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-117002259104637318?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/117002259104637318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=117002259104637318&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/117002259104637318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/117002259104637318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2007/01/dr-phil-pool-me-in-bikini.html' title='Dr. Phil, a Pool, Me in a Bikini'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-116535844510817988</id><published>2006-12-05T17:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T17:40:45.126-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Surrogate Milk Supplier</title><content type='html'>I had the most bizaar dream last night, I dreamed that I was a nurse maid for Jessica's baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I literally can't believe I would dream something like that.  It shocks me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worse yet, in a portion of my dream, Jessica, her baby, and I were all sleeping in this great big bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-116535844510817988?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/116535844510817988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=116535844510817988&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/116535844510817988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/116535844510817988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/12/surrogate-milk-supplier.html' title='Surrogate Milk Supplier'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-116402870202903215</id><published>2006-11-20T08:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T08:18:22.063-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Canoe, a River, a Boy</title><content type='html'>I dreamed that Charlie, Thomas, and I were all canoeing down a narrow river last night.  I was scared, the river was swift but really dirty for some reason.  I had looked intently at the river bottom and seen snakes coming out from the sand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thomas had fallen in at this point, and, although the river wasn't deep, I was scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I climbed out of the canoe, silt and soft mush squished between my bare toes.  I was afraid of the snakes, and crying.  Charlie had kept canoeing downstream, leaving me there, holding Thomas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called out to him, I wanted him to come back and get us.  He said I would have to walk downstream a ways, he wasn't stopping.  I placed Thomas on the bank of the river and tried to climb out, but I was crying too hard.  I couldn't get out of the river.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-116402870202903215?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/116402870202903215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=116402870202903215&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/116402870202903215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/116402870202903215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/11/canoe-river-boy.html' title='A Canoe, a River, a Boy'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-115002461577886684</id><published>2006-06-11T07:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-11T07:16:55.790-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Far Ago Face</title><content type='html'>I dreamed of Cody when he was 11 years old last night. So very weird to see that face, I haven't seen it in so many years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zach and Cody were apparently friends in my dream and they had skipped school. It was 1:30 in the afternoon, but it was already dark out. I had stopped at the shell station on the corner to get gas when I seen them and asked them what they were doing. They had given me an excuse that they were on a field trip. Knowing this to be untrue, I told the two of them I was taking them back to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we took off running toward the school. I have no idea why I didn't just take the Jeep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-115002461577886684?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/115002461577886684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=115002461577886684&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/115002461577886684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/115002461577886684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/06/far-ago-face.html' title='A Far Ago Face'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-114986019096616259</id><published>2006-06-09T09:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-09T09:36:30.983-04:00</updated><title type='text'>An Alternate Universe</title><content type='html'>I've been having some &lt;em&gt;very&lt;/em&gt; strange dreams lately, unfortunately, I haven't been able to remember any of them once I get up and get going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, however, I do remember a portion of one. I was a person with powers of some sort, and I was being tested. Several of us were transporting to different times and periods of the centuries to do certain tasks. Traveling with me was a young girl, I have no idea who she was, but in essence she was me, as a young girl. She was a helper to me, someone who I was trusting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the tail end of the dream I had to use the bathroom, I was searching everywhere for a clean bathroom. The period in time that I was in had me in a type of outhouse. The girl had warned me that we were limited in time, I had to hurry. When I finally found a spot to go, a woman and a man were watching me, I just couldn't go. I sat there, and my insides were burning, but I couldn't go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's when Charlie woke me up to tell me he was leaving for work. At that point, I REALLY had to pee!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-114986019096616259?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/114986019096616259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=114986019096616259&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/114986019096616259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/114986019096616259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/06/alternate-universe.html' title='An Alternate Universe'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-114788938750396650</id><published>2006-05-17T13:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-05-17T14:09:47.666-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Repulsed</title><content type='html'>I had the most bizarre and disturbing dream last night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my dream I was dancing with a man, very seductively dancing I might add.  At one point he dipped me, when I had returned back to standing position, I was looking directly into his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was my father.  I awoke as if I'd been having a nightmare, I was so disturbed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-114788938750396650?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/114788938750396650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=114788938750396650&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/114788938750396650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/114788938750396650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/05/im-repulsed.html' title='I&apos;m Repulsed'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-114495680538551985</id><published>2006-04-13T15:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-13T15:33:25.396-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Signs</title><content type='html'>I've been watching way too much TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I dreamed constantly of aliens and horrible creatures that were trying to take over the earth.  Every time I would fall back to sleep the instant my mind drifted into dream land I was dreaming about those wretched aliens, the ones from the movie 'Signs'.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I did not get a restful nights sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-114495680538551985?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/114495680538551985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=114495680538551985&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/114495680538551985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/114495680538551985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/04/signs.html' title='Signs'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-114424253712049100</id><published>2006-04-05T09:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-04-05T09:08:57.140-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dreaming of What??</title><content type='html'>Last night I dreamt I had to pee really, really badly. I was standing before a line of porta potties, opening the door to each one and discovering they were horribly unclean. Unsanitary to the point where I was grossing out just at the thought I had held the door latch. In one of them I found a wild turkey perched on the seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I step away from the last porta potty, look at Helen, and say "I've gotta pee so bad Helen, what am I going to do?" I then walk toward John K. and ask to borrow his cleaning supplies, I told him I had to go so bad that I just couldn't wait for him to clean the bathrooms.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-114424253712049100?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/114424253712049100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=114424253712049100&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/114424253712049100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/114424253712049100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/04/dreaming-of-what.html' title='Dreaming of What??'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-114381657422846135</id><published>2006-03-31T09:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-31T09:49:34.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cheating Again</title><content type='html'>I had a dream last night that I received a phone call from some guy named Dave on my cell phone. He was telling me that he was interested in seeing me and could we meet sometime. In my dream I had no idea who this guy even was. I was horrified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Charlie had the cell phone, and I immediately started telling him I had no idea who this Dave guy was. He didn't believe me, so I ran out the door and knelt down and cried. Charlie's boss happened to be out there. He was looking down at me, feeling sorry for me. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up to my feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just so ashamed. And, I really didn't know who the Dave on the phone was.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-114381657422846135?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/114381657422846135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=114381657422846135&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/114381657422846135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/114381657422846135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/03/cheating-again.html' title='Cheating Again'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-114090324134827962</id><published>2006-02-25T16:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-25T16:34:01.366-05:00</updated><title type='text'>OW!  My Leg!</title><content type='html'>I had a dream that I was at work and Bill R. had come back to fix the internet problems we have been experiencing.  While he was sitting at my computer, I reach down and feel my leg.  I can totally feel a tendon or ligament or something sitting on top of the muscle mass on my right thigh.  I tell Audrey and Sandy, "I've never had this before, what the heck?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Straightening out my leg, the tendon snaps to the other side of my knee and becomes really tight.  I scream out, it was very painful.  Very carefully, I work the tendon back to my knee, slip it over, and bend my knee again.  That's when I notice the bruise sitting there, and the veins going out away from there.  Audrey starts to tell me "That's damage right there, you've damaged it somehow."  By now, Bill is sitting in the corner type furiously away on a laptop computer.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look up at Bill, then wake up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-114090324134827962?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/114090324134827962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=114090324134827962&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/114090324134827962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/114090324134827962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/02/ow-my-leg.html' title='OW!  My Leg!'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-114027588629626144</id><published>2006-02-18T10:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-18T10:18:06.356-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Carjacking and Secondhand Stores</title><content type='html'>I was in a secondhand store trying on a velvet dress.  A very pretty dress, actually, when I noticed the whole back side of the dressing room was gone.  Setting the dress aside, I exited through the door and proceeded to tie a shoe and replace some jewelry I had taken off.  An older couple standing near by started a conversation with me about how I should buy a pair of shoes for every day of the week.  I replied "If I did, then I would have to constantly change my shoes and socks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leaving the store, I was on my way to some sort of event.  A young teen boy was walking behind me, I get to the car, and turn to my side, I see him standing with a gun.  Quickly hopping into the car, I put it in gear and speed away, rolling up the window and locking the door.  In my mind I'm thinking, this is the second time this has happened to me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-114027588629626144?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/114027588629626144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=114027588629626144&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/114027588629626144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/114027588629626144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/02/carjacking-and-secondhand-stores.html' title='Carjacking and Secondhand Stores'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-113993420497913218</id><published>2006-02-14T11:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-14T11:23:25.006-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Brick House</title><content type='html'>Darn it, I've forgotten most of my dream already. I should have posted earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dreamed of a really tall woman who walked with a cane. Perhaps I was a child? She just seemed tall.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She and I and another person were walking down a cement walk toward a brick house. It was an absolutely beautiful house, from a distance, but as we got closer, it was like someone was lifting a veil from it, and the beauty lifted off, leaving only an old run down brick house. I looked up at the woman and her face was Hyde's face from 'That 70's Show'. (Don't have a clue what that was all about.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once inside the house, I was locked into a room that was wooden all around. Hardwood floor, barn walls and ceiling. Walking to the center of the room, I kneeled down and sat, awaiting someone's return. (Not sure who's return.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know more happened in the dream, but the rest is so sketchy, I can't be certain if I'm remembering anything correctly. I do remember running down a hallway, and a hand pinching my shoulder, pulling me toward something. And a stairwell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had logged this all this morning when it was still fresh in my mind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-113993420497913218?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/113993420497913218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=113993420497913218&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113993420497913218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113993420497913218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/02/brick-house.html' title='The Brick House'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-113949531982103792</id><published>2006-02-09T09:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-09T09:30:06.413-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mark</title><content type='html'>Mark was my mother's second husband, my first step dad. I hated Mark. I was 9 years old, just a kid, but I will forever remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't dream of him very often, but I ended up having a dream about him last night. I was the same age that I am now in the dream, but I dreamed of the boy I had seen him with when I was 25. I felt horrible in the dream, I was trying to the best of my ability to get that poor little boy away from him without him knowing what I was doing. He wanted to take him into a room, I have no idea what was on the other side of that door. The little boy looked so trusting and honest, and I just couldn't stop him from going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last time I actually seen Mark was at the county park during the air show. It's amazing how that deep down dread and hurt comes up when least expected, even after so many years. He was walking past us, I was 25, Zach was 5, and Charlie was sitting next to me on the bench, Zach was standing between my legs and I had my arms around him, hugging him while we watched a plane take off. I freaked out, I looked right down at the ground and wouldn't look up. Charlie had asked me who that guy was, he had stared at us as he walked past with a woman and a young boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly felt dread for that young boy, and hoped to God Mark wasn't still an ass like he was when I was a kid. You just never forget someone burning your toys, or smoking pot in front of you, or some of the other things I'm not going to go into detail on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can say is, thank God my mother came to her senses, that marriage only lasted 4 months.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-113949531982103792?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/113949531982103792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=113949531982103792&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113949531982103792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113949531982103792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/02/mark.html' title='Mark'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-113931694090994634</id><published>2006-02-07T07:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-07T07:55:40.926-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dead Bodies</title><content type='html'>Had a horrible dream last night.  I literally woke up in a sweat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in a dark and very filthy house, probably in a basement of some kind.  I could hear people walking around upstairs, every once in a while a shadow would pass by the stairwell that led up.  I could see maggots everywhere, there was a pile of dead bodies in the corner.  My only thoughts were terror, I was searching franticly for a pair of shoes.  Finally finding a pair, I sat in a chair to put them on, dumping out maggots and worms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After waking I recognized the white shoes as Zachary's Phat Farm shoes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-113931694090994634?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/113931694090994634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=113931694090994634&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113931694090994634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113931694090994634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/02/dead-bodies.html' title='Dead Bodies'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-113923269065161425</id><published>2006-02-06T08:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T08:33:23.993-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Coincidence?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.madametalbot.com/pix/posters/fortuneteller1.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.madametalbot.com/pix/posters/fortuneteller1.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I have noticed several weird coincidences since I have been journaling my dreams, I have decided to create a post dedicated to these abnormal happenings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, the dream about the cruise ship.  It seemed like such a bizarre dream, when I had it.  But, I couldn't believe it when less then 24 hours pass and I see on the news that a cruise ship has sunk.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, the dream with Sarah Jessica Parker.  She is on the cover of this months Glamour magazine!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third, the spider dream.  On Saturday I met a guy who has a spider tattooed on his collar bone, a spider web tattooed on his shoulder.  The coincidence blew me away.  I knew then I had to document this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-113923269065161425?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/113923269065161425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=113923269065161425&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113923269065161425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113923269065161425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/02/coincidence.html' title='Coincidence?'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-113923114715627684</id><published>2006-02-06T07:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-06T08:05:47.166-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Truck Driver</title><content type='html'>3 years ago I had jury duty with a guy who I would see and bump into everywhere.  All over town, at the store, at the ice rink, at the beach.  It was enough to make me feel uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, on with the dream.  I dreamed of this guy last night.  In my dream, I was wearing the new shoes I bought Saturday, and I was working, but it wasn't my plant I was in, it was like a retail store.  I was walking down an isle when I happened to see him, quickly I turned down a different isle, hoping he didn't see me.  My foot slipped from my shoe, causing me to pause to fix it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He came up behind me and asked me if I could show him where the RMA center was.  I was a bit speechless at first, then told him to follow me.  We walked down a couple of isles where the RMA center was supposed to be, but they had moved it.  I told him we would need to find TN.  Heading through a double door, TN was sitting at a round table with a few of her Tech's.  She looks at the guy, grabs him by a belt loop, and pulls him toward her.  I say to TN "This is one of our customers, [TN], this is a customer."  Her face immediately turns red, but she laughs.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I apologize to the guy, and head back out the door.  He grabs my hand, I turn to see what he has to say, then I woke up.  I open my eyes and see Charlie smoothing his hand over my shoulder to wake me up for work this morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-113923114715627684?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/113923114715627684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=113923114715627684&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113923114715627684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113923114715627684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/02/truck-driver.html' title='The Truck Driver'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-113897626655959047</id><published>2006-02-03T09:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-03T09:24:04.530-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Erotic Nightmare</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://images.43things.com/entry/00/00/59/22798s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://images.43things.com/entry/00/00/59/22798s.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I awoke with the lyrics 'She's just a devil woman with evil on her mind.....' playing over and over in my mind.  This was definitely one of those dreams that linger well into the conscious waking state.  A full 30 seconds after I opened my eyes the images of the dream were still playing inside my head, making it impossible for me to bring myself back to reality.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happens to me frequently, actually, many of my dreams have songs associated with them, some good, some not so good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dreamed of a very handsome but evil man last night.  Absolutely the most erotic nightmare I've ever had, at least, that I can remember.  I was lying in a bed with just a thin nightgown on, he was kneeling next to me, bare chested, wearing black pants.  I knew he was a demon of some sort, but I was so transfixed by his charm, he told me over and over "I won't hurt you, it's ok, just relax."  I continued to lie there as he leaned over me, smoothing a hand down the length of my side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-113897626655959047?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/113897626655959047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=113897626655959047&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113897626655959047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113897626655959047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/02/erotic-nightmare.html' title='Erotic Nightmare'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-113880939466080438</id><published>2006-02-01T10:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-01T10:56:34.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cruise Ship</title><content type='html'>I had a somewhat restless night last night.  I hate it when it is hard for me to stay asleep, I feel like crap the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did happen to have a dream about taking a cruise.  I was in a cabin with a few other people, they were standing and chatting but I was lying flat on my back in the center of a bed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt the boat lurch forward and commented to the other occupants in the cabin that we must have taken off from port.  One lady was holding a glass of wine, a man was staring down at me smiling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-113880939466080438?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/113880939466080438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=113880939466080438&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113880939466080438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113880939466080438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/02/cruise-ship.html' title='The Cruise Ship'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-113828670954386164</id><published>2006-01-26T09:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-26T09:45:09.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Life</title><content type='html'>I dreamed I was pregnant last night.  I was in a clothing store shopping for maternity clothing, and finding so many cute outfits!  I could see a portion of my body in a full length mirror, and I was huge!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I awoke I wished to be pregnant.  I've been spending too much time around Stephanie, I'm envious of her baby girl.  Even though I've told everyone I don't want any more children, I secretly still do want a baby girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-113828670954386164?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/113828670954386164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=113828670954386164&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113828670954386164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113828670954386164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/01/new-life.html' title='New Life'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-113819278404374212</id><published>2006-01-25T07:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-25T07:39:44.053-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Public Shower and the Cherry Tree</title><content type='html'>I dreamed of people I work with last night. We were all on some kind of a farm. Jill, Fred, Audrey, and Julie I remember, but I know there were more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was trying to take a shower, but every bathroom I got to had someone already in there showering. I was getting so frustrated. I finally ended up in the middle of a barn, with a cherry tree under a glass dome. Jill had told me to be careful, I didn't want to disturb the cherry tree, it would end up badly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-113819278404374212?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/113819278404374212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=113819278404374212&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113819278404374212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113819278404374212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/01/public-shower-and-cherry-tree.html' title='Public Shower and the Cherry Tree'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21150134.post-113793096605565977</id><published>2006-01-22T06:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-22T06:56:06.066-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A View of the Mountains</title><content type='html'>Zach and I are walking down the road I lived on when I was in 7th grade. I'm telling him all about he house, I can't wait to show him. We get to the drive and see cement blocks and tools lying off to the side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Descending down the driveway, I see that the house has been removed. It is now work in progress, someone has planted sod and removed all of the trees that sat directly in front of the house. We turn to look and see a beautiful view of the mountains. I say to Zach, 'this must have cost a fortune, but look at that view of the mountains.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21150134-113793096605565977?l=nightrevelations.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/feeds/113793096605565977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=21150134&amp;postID=113793096605565977&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113793096605565977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/21150134/posts/default/113793096605565977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nightrevelations.blogspot.com/2006/01/view-of-mountains.html' title='A View of the Mountains'/><author><name>Sherri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14879070306543787416</uri><email>sanders.sherri@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='12708080638063586908'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>