Earlier on in the dream, I dreamt I was watching some sort of anime or something in French class with Peter and Mme Rochelleaux (not sure if that's the correct spelling, she was one of my highschool French teachers), and a bunch of things happened in that scene, but the only relevant one was a spdier with, it seems, mosts of its legs torn off was on the chair next to me. It had these two blue horizontal lines across its abomen as markings, and it had 2 long legs on its left side, and 2 short legs on its right, presumably with each corresponding symmetric leg on the other side torn off. I look up at the movie, and feel something on my ankle, so I look down, and the spider is on me, so I panic and shake and kick, and it falls off.

A bit later, I'm walking around upstairs in my house (this house in my dream seems to be based upon my old house in Roselyn), and there's popcorn butter all over the carpet. I get some Dove Carpet Cleaner, and check the bottle for the skeleton hand symbol. I don't see it, so I figure I don't need to wear gloves, and pour it around. It can't seem to get the flow output right, and pour way too much, but the cleaner seems to react with the popcorn, bubbling there, where it just sort of stays inert elsewhere, so I know where to scrub with the brush.

Finally, I'm in the basement, which is nicely finished with red short hair carpet, glossed wood, and a very large fridge/icebox thing for storing liquor. Mme Rochelleaux, Michael Sanford, and my mom are there. I'm going through the icebox where I see a lot of liquor, but also some cans of Coca Cola. I pick up one and take a sip, and then I see the expiration date of 2004, and I remembered that this can was already opened. I spit it out and tell the others of this fact. I then rummage through the other cans (find 2 more ones that are already opened) and find progressively older and older cans (e.g. in the 1990s).

Mme Rochelleaux mentions that she loves Coke, and mentions that the company has been around for over a hundred years, and we do manage to find a can labelled "1856" (with the 8 half erased) (incidentally, Wikipedia says Coke came into existence in 1884~1886~1892, depending on your definition of coming into existence). We also find some very early Starbucks-drink-in-glossed-carboard-milk-carton (19th century, i.e. 18XX), and Mme Rochelleaux (in my dreams) said something about Coca Cola owning Starbucks, so this isn't surprising (apparently this part of the dream has no basis in reality).

I also find something in a can with a spray nozzle, so I spray some in my mouth, but find it to be shaving cream instead of a beverage, so I also spit it out.

With all the spitting, there's quite a mess in this icebox. Luckily it seems to double as a sink, so I turn on the faucet, and the water runs through all the cans, and goes down the drain hole, with everything clean again. There's a blue piece of tupperware, and I comment to my mom that when I first saw that tupperwear, I thought it was my iBook, and I had freaked out (what with spit, water, etc. running all over it). She then says something about her iBook, and I tell her she doesn't have an iBook, and Mike shows his iBook and talks about how to tell the difference between one and a "normal" laptop.

I suddenly break into the conversation, asking if anyone else feels that the house is breathing. They say no. I tell them to come over here, and Rochellaux does. I hold out my hand and tell her to place her hand over mine. I feel air rushing down just off the right side of my hand (i.e. over my thumb, but not over my palm). I ask if she feels it. She says no. So I move my hand a bit to the right to center my palm over where the column of air is, and tell her to follow me. Again, I seem to be off, as the air only hits my thumb, but not my palm. And again, she doesn't seem to feel it. I try re-adjusting again, but with the same results.

I then tell Mike to come over, and specify more clear what I feel: It's like the house is exhaling and inhaling. I then extend my two arms as far apart as possible, and tuck my mouth and nose into the collar of my turtleneck. I still feel it, so it's not my breathing. In fact, if I hold my breath, I still feel it breathing regularly, but it's much more intense when I allow myself to breathe regularly.

I then focus more closely, and I tell him there's tingling all over my palsm, and a burning sensation in vertical lines down some of my fingers into my palm. He asks me to write that all down, and I jokingly add "In case I die?" and he nods.

So I head over to the wall opposite of the icebox to look for some scrap paper, and find some, though some of the paper already has writing on its. I don't remember all the details, but some paper seemed to have a concept drawing of a web app which shows a woman's body and you can draw hairstyles on her (with one example jokingly showing that someone drew pubic hair on the woman), and another I just "sensed" was a note from Meiko, though I couldn't make out the words. I also found a piece of scrap paper which was a very gory movie file which I'll discuss later. Finally, I got a blank piece.

So I start writing down all my symptoms, and I figure I might want to mention the spider bite, the dove carpet cleaner, and the shaving cream thing too just in case. Before I finish the note, I decide to watch the very gory movie file, which I'll discuss later.

The movie file shocks me so much that I wake up, only to find my hand placed near my mouth-nose area, which explains the breathing sensation I felt while dreaming. It's interesting to note that when I hold my breath in my dream, I still breathe normally in my sleep.

Possible dream sources: Spent a lot of today trying to learn Japanese (hence French class), I cleaned my room today (hence carpet cleaner), I was thirsty during my sleep (hence Coke), saw Scary Movie 4 which is decidedly scarier than its other 3 prequels but not as scary as a real scary movie (hence the house breathing), read review of movie on Vietnam corruption and violence during the war (hence the movie file), saw "Klay Animation" where klay people die with their guts splattered everywhere (hence the gore).

Anyway, now on to the movie file, which you may wish to skip, 'cause it's so damn gory. So it's a movie file on a piece of scrap paper, so think of it as a scifi thing where you pick up the paper, and it's playing a movie right on the paper, with sound and everything. It's some sort of documentary-slash-snuff-fetish-film on execution-slash-torture in Vietnam. One woman in a blue oriental dress is blindfolded and angry, while another one in a yellow dress and a microphone is cheerfully announcing something to the crowd in Vietnamese (I don't speak Vietnamese, but I guess it's something like "Come check this out: we're about to kill her.") The blue girl's hands are unbound, and she's running over trying to strangle the yellow girl, as if cutting her off would somehow cut off the execution. At first, I wonder why she doesn't remove the blindfold, but then I see there's a bunch of archers who are using real bows, but the arrows have suction cups instead of pointed tips. Maybe the blindfolds protect her eyes or something.

Anyway, a subtitle appears, something about hitting "all six targets" on her body, and then the archers file. One arrow hits her right in the back, forcing her to arch and grimace in pain.

It then cuts to the next scene, where the woman is still blindfolded, but suspended upside down by her legs on a structure held up by two horses. She starts swinging left and right, presumably to make herself a harder target. It doesn't help. As she reaches the apex of her swing to the right, the archers fire, and it looks like just about every arrow (still suction-cup tipped) hits her from all directions (an arrow on both of her sides, some others on her back, and yet a few more on her front). She screams as the rope breaks (from the impact?) and she lands on her side, right on an arrow, and it sounds like she breaks a rib. She's rolling over, trying not to lie on an arrow, but she has arrows everywhere, so this is essentially impossible.

Her fall-and-roll was so quick and intense that her head is torn straight off her body. Somehow, her body is able to prop itself up and stand up with its hands, but soon "dies" thereafter, falling on its knees and then slumping over. Meanwhile, the head has fallen onto some grass by a river and is screaming its head off (so to speak). An archer quickly runs over and tries to put something into her mouth (it looks like an oyster). She's disgusted and outraged, and tries to spit it out while turning her head away (which is difficult because her neck isn't attached to anything), which causes her to fall into the river and drown, screaming as her head sinks to the bottom.

So that's Vietnamese torture, according to my dreams. No idea how close it is to reality (can a severed head scream? Where do the vocal chords start and stop?)