Have at it, Freud….

12 Apr

…. “Ghost” By Neutral Milk Hotel

The song above is what I want played at my funeral. Preferably accompanied by tap dancers. I’m just stating this so that there is no confusion when I die, and so some stupid bullshit hymnal like “Amazing Grace” isn’t played instead (which will make my dead body start flip-flopping around in the coffin… but hopefully there won’t be a coffin since I’m trying to figure out a way to legally have my body stuffed and suspended from the ceiling during the funeral, as if I’m going to swoop down onto the funeral-viewers).

I had a crazy dream last night. I like to document dreams in an attempt to pick them apart and see what my brain is trying to tell me. It’s like a symbolic puzzle. I’m good at puzzles- so it’s pretty fun. This dream starred 2 of my favorite people on the planet- Yasha (the amazing lady who runs the Strychnin Gallery) and David Hochbaum (a glorious artist and equally astounding person)… and it also starred one of my most despised places on the planet- the totally bonkers evangelical Southern Baptist Group Home I lived in for 2 years in high school (for the teenagers out there- be really nice to your parents, and be REALLY careful about your naughty-ness or you may end up at a place like this). Here are pictures of Yasha and David so that you can put faces to names:

Me and David this is David and me.

Brian Horton, Yasha, and me (that’s Brian Horton in the pic with me and Yasha- he totally rules too)

Some people have nightmares about being back in highschool, in their underwear and not being able to find their class. My version of these nightmares are that I’m back at the group home- but as an adult and screaming that they can’t keep me there and that I refuse to be baptized.

So here’s the dream:

Yasha had set up a gallery show at my old group home… but instead of the group home being in Branson, Missouri (where it is actually located), it was in the jungle. All around the outside of the group home housing were dead bodies laying in the gigantic jungle plants- but this didn’t seem to bother me. What was upsetting me was the fact that as David and I were trying to set up our gallery rooms, I realized that all I was wearing was underpants, one of my dad’s sweaters, and a pair of mismatched leg warmers… and I didn’t have any other clothes. This horrified me, because I knew that if the crazy people who ran the group home saw me dressed like that, they would say I had been “taken in by the devil”, and they’d try to instigate some type of revival to “save my soul” and it would ruin the gallery show. So David and I frantically went through his luggage trying to find something else for me to wear- but all he had were huge winter coats and shoes that were too big to fit my feet. Then Yasha comes running into our exhibit room screaming that the group home staff was coming and they had to hide me. So we ran out into the jungle, and David and Yasha hid me under a few of the dead bodies out there so that the group home people wouldn’t make me dig up tree stumps during the gallery show (yes… one of the forms of punishment at the home was digging up tree stumps for hours and hours…. is everyone starting to see why I have nightmares about this place?). After I am properly camouflaged by the corpses, the group home staff confronted Yasha and David (and one of my friends from highschool was suddenly there trying to hide me as well), and demanded to know where I was. And I was laying a few yards away from them, under the pile of bodies, I was trying as hard as I could not to laugh because David was saying over and over “Jesus is on this island, and he told me to tell you to wear my hat and lighten up”. David wears great hats.

Then I woke up.

That is my story for today. Thank you.

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16 Responses to “Have at it, Freud….”

  1. Janai April 13, 2008 at 6:35 am #

    That’s interesting- I think it means you feel like your not ready for something. But how could I know since I’m reading about your dream and not in your mind lol.

    I had a dream that a rather large obese woman had to squash me for a movie.
    And I think I won an award for it…

  2. matorias April 13, 2008 at 6:56 am #

    anyone ever tell you that you have the most infectious smile?

  3. christine April 13, 2008 at 7:20 am #

    haha i love the swooping body thing. i want to see more of that. so far all the funeral business has done is prop a guy up in his favorite chair and have him watching football.

  4. Kristen Ferrell April 13, 2008 at 10:30 am #

    awww, thank you matorias!!! you’re so sweet!! πŸ™‚

    the idea of propping a corpse up and having him watch football in his favorite chair is HILARIOUS!! i just don’t like any of the dead bodies options that are available. i don’t want to be buried and take up land just so i can rot in a box. and i don’t want to be cremated because then my loved ones will have to figure out what to do with my ashes, and then there isn’t anywhere for them to go to if they miss me… but i think being stuffed would be really funny. they could rent my body out to haunted houses during halloween, or make the grandkids sit on my lap during time-out for punishment…
    i dunno. i think death should be a little more light-hearted.

    and janai… it’s very possible that the dream means that i’m not ready for something. because i’m waaaay behind in work- so i’m not ready for that. and there are all kinds of stresses going on at home- which i’m never prepared to handle. i really like your dream of getting an award for being smashed by a big lady… that’s awesome!! haha!

  5. hayley April 13, 2008 at 5:21 pm #

    have you ever heard of being turned into jewelry? my mom said a long time ago she heard that they can turn your ashes into like a broach or something crazy like that.

  6. Kristen Ferrell April 13, 2008 at 6:08 pm #

    oh shit!! i’d do that!!! maybe i’d let them cremate MOST of my body to make into jewelry, but then save a few pieces (like my fingers or toes or ears or something) and have those made into other kinds of jewelry. who doesn’t want a kidney belt buckle? or a purse made out of my stomach?

  7. hayley April 13, 2008 at 6:47 pm #

    i just found out exactly what it is. they turn your ashes into a diamond!

    http://www.lifegem.com/secondary/whatisLG2006.aspx

    i want to know who came up with this idea!

  8. Kristen Ferrell April 13, 2008 at 7:16 pm #

    it says on that site you can have them make diamonds of your pets, too. i should have that done for all my cats, and then bling out my teeth with them. ha!!

  9. christine April 14, 2008 at 5:03 am #

    they can also put ashes in paint and paint a portrait…we have these little flyer things to hand out at the funeral home. ive seen it done for people and pets..its pretty neat looking

  10. Cassie April 14, 2008 at 8:34 am #

    Jesus loves hats, my friend told me so. ; )

    I’m gonna be creamated and then have my ashes out in to an echo friendly man made coral reef which will then be placed in the ocean to help rebuild the reefs!
    http://www.eternalreefs.com

    Is it wrong that I am super excited about this?? I have seen enough death in my 29 years to know that you have to have some sense of humor or light heartedness with it. How else can you really cope?

    Take care of your back my dear and even though it sucks get a new chair. It will be cheaper than back surgery in the long run!

  11. aprilfalling April 14, 2008 at 10:20 am #

    i want to hear more stories about this hellish baptist place. sounds like a nightmare from beginning to end, no?

  12. Kristen Ferrell April 14, 2008 at 11:57 am #

    hahaha… ok. πŸ™‚
    i was a REALLY bad kid. i have no resentments or animosity towards my parents for shipping me off, because if i had a kid like me- i would have killed it. and my parents didn’t want to send me to a state-run place (because those were terrifying)- so at 14 i was shipped off to live at this group home up in the woods of Branson Missouri run by CCCRRRAAAZZZYYYY evangelical Southern Baptists. The kind who think that the “Smurfs” were created to lead kids to satan, and that Halloween was the devil’s playday. And they probably really hate Harry Potter, too. These people were full-blown bonkers. Since the place was located up far in the woods, there were lots of trees. Lots of trees mean lots of tree stumps. So whenever we got in trouble, we had to go out for hours and hours and dig up tree stumps while the “big brothers” and “big sisters” preached to us about the love of the lord, and how we will go to hell (there were many other forms of manual labor like hauling logs, fixing the roof or whatever else needed to be done around the place, digging ditches, etc). Once all the girls got strip-searched because one of the “Big Sisters” lost $5 (creepy, right?). “Big Brothers and Sisters” were volunteers fresh out of college (usually rich kids with rich-kid-guilt) who wanted to save the souls of all us troubled teens… and they were hilarious (and in desperate need of getting a life). We had church every day. We had god all weekend. And we were all “going to hell”. We were often taken to those huge weird New Christian Rock revival things (that usually took place at “Silver Dollar City”- the most pathetic excuse for a clean-fun-amusement-park) where hundreds of young evangelical weirdos congregate to listen to HORRIBLE christian rock, and then all burst into tears and hold hands, swaying back and forth, screaming “JESUS CHRIST, COME INTO MY HEART!!!!”. The only way out of the group home was to accept Jesus as your savior, or to turn 17 (which is when you are a legal adult in Missouri) and hitch a ride into town, hoping that someone would pick you up. The first year I was there, I dug alot of stumps and did MUCH manual labor. Then, after that first year- I got smart. Cut my black hair off, started dressing and acting exactly like a good Christian girl should, screamed “PRAISE JESUS”, faked and lied my way through whatever needed to be done, and got to go home before I turned 17.
    The thing that was so TOTALLY fucked up about the place is that it was complete social isolation. So when the kids do go back home- it’s a total culture shock, and they freak out. I did… I totally lost it for about a year.
    Oh… what else is fucked up… the place costs thousands a month per kid to be in there. It’s staffed with volunteers, the land is fully paid for, and it’s a religious organization so it gets all kinds of perks and tax breaks… But still, it’s pricing is out of control. You should see the houses that the people who run this place live in- they’re huge! Total scam artists. And they’re franchising. They are located in Branson, Denver, and another one is soon to be in Kansas City. They’re going to be the next Starbucks.
    It sends chills down my spine.

  13. hayley April 14, 2008 at 6:03 pm #

    if you don’t mind me asking, why/how were you such a bad girl?

  14. Kristen Ferrell April 14, 2008 at 7:29 pm #

    i sucked in every way possible. i’m fully embarrassed by how horribly i behaved towards my parents, and by how much of a pile i was. but i didn’t have a whole lot of respect for the law, or for common-sense safe behavior, or for school, or really anything. and i was a violent little brat. and i liked to see things explode. and i was a moron. did i mention that i sucked? none of this is anything to be proud of, or does it earn me “tough-chick” points… behaving like a shitbag to your parents and the people around you is a very bad thing.
    my parents just wanted to put me somewhere to keep me alive or out of jail long enough for my common sense and good judgment to kick in. frighteningly enough- that was the best option that wouldn’t completely financially destroy them and the rest of my family. any thing else was state run, and alot of those places are filled with more unspeakable horrors than anything the Southern Baptists could concoct.

  15. hayley April 14, 2008 at 7:33 pm #

    oh. well if it helps i think you turned out to be an awesome woman and a loving mother! πŸ™‚

  16. Kristen Ferrell April 14, 2008 at 7:38 pm #

    any good in me is because of my parents, because they’re amazing. all my fuck-ups and life fumblings are caused by my forever-retarded instinct and skewed knee-jerk judgement.
    but you’re a sweetheart for saying that!!!! πŸ™‚

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