Dreams: Snake Fangs and Baphomet

I have had very vivid dreams for most of my life. I’d say since I was about 4 or 5 I’ve been able to remember them quite well. One year while I was in college I became part of a Dream Group hosted by our school’s counselor. A group of 10 or so would meet once a week and discuss whatever dreams we had. We’d “chart” our dreams and try to decipher what their significance in relation to our lives could be. We all kept dream journals and shared them. I haven’t done something like that since then but I think I’d like to start doing it again. I figured maybe I could share them on this blog as a weekly (more or less depending on how much I can actually remember) type thing. I’d like to get interpretations or opinions from y’all or hear about similar dreams or maybe somebody will have some insight as to what this or that element signifies. I think it’d just be kind of fun to revive some of feeling I had when I shared dreams with people.

Just some general background on me concerning the types of dreams I have: I dream a lot about teeth. Teeth falling out, being broken down and pouring out like crushed up seashells, or fearing my teeth are about to fall out any second. It’s been happening for the last 20 years at least. I think in part it’s because I tend to clench my jaw very tightly and I guess grind my teeth, but not side to side more like I’m biting down very hard.

Other reoccurring elements are snakes and aligators. Snakes in any kind of situation, sometimes I’m scared, sometimes I’m cautious but have the general sense that it’s gonna be alright. Usually they are just present and I’m observing them because they seem to be particularly extraoridinary snakes, like they have special powers. The aligators I’m usually having to cross a bridge and the bridge semi-submerges in water and I’m fearful of aligators popping up, and sometimes they just appear out of nowhere. One time the aligators turned into chocolate waffle fries and I rode on them to cross a river. Anyway, I just thought I’d point out I dream about teeth, snakes, and aligators quite a bit.

Most recently I’ve remembered 2 dreams both very vivid:

Dream 1:

The first dream is very short. I was standing in a backyard, a very normal fenced in backyard but surrounded by snakes. The snakes were just there. Not biting anybody just kind of writhing around. It almost seemed like they were doing some very elaborate lattice work. Like synchronized swimming.

I’m standing there unafraid but still trying to be mindful of the situation. Then my mom comes up and says we have to find the 2 vipers out of these hundreds of snakes and extract their fangs. She’s got what looks like a beekeeper’s suit on but it’s made out of rubber. She doesn’t tell me why we have to do this and before I can ask she wades right into the snakes, disrupting their flow, and snatches out a snake. The snake is huge. It’s all black, and its head is as big as mine. My mom has a grip on it and its mouth is forced open. The inside of its mouth is a pale pink and full of soft flesh and it’s fangs seem like elongated cat claws. They’re black and huge. My mom tells me to pull out the fangs. I’m stone. I can’t move. I don’t have the words to tell her know, just the expression of “don’t make me do this.” I’m fumbling, looking at my hands, looking for protection. My mother sees that I’m looking for excuses to not do it and so she says, “Nevermind. I’ll do it myself.” She pulls the snakes head an inch away from my face and plucks out the fangs. As she does this she keeps saying, “It’s so easy. Easy-peasy.” And then I woke up. I think I felt sad for the snake. I didn’t want to hurt the snake. And taking away it’s fangs, it seemed like it’d be the same as taking away it’s pride. In the dream it’s like I had this gnawing feeling in my gut that I didn’t want to hurt the snake’s feelings. They were very elegant and strange fangs. Who knows what my mom wanted with them.


Dream 2:

baby baphomet

This dream was pretty cool. Until it wasn’t. The panic was real. I remember waking up in a true panic. It felt very real.

I’m hazy on how I got where I was in this dream or why I was there. I’m missing some details but what I do remember was pretty amazing and also scary.

My significant other and I were led into a cave at night. The cave was illuminated but not by fire. Not sure what kind of light was there. Nothing obvious like fire or electrical light. There were symbols, similar to runes but not like runes that I’ve seen before. I didn’t recognize the symbols. They were all over the walls of the cave, and once we passed through a doorway in the cave we were lit up with symbols. They appeared on our forearms and face. Our symbols were pretty similar with the exception of a few. We each had a crescent moon on our foreheads cradling an eye, and our cheeks and arms were had several markings. The only real difference between us was that I, on my left forearm had half of Baphomet. The horns, face, down to the breasts. It alarmed me. I didn’t understand. I grabbed my SO’s arm to see if he had such a thing or something similar but he did not. I showed him my arm and he just shrugged. I rubbed my arm furiously but the image wouldn’t disappear. I was afraid that I had done something that would put me in Hell. And after lots of panicking without any change. I stopped, and said out loud but to no one in particular, “Well maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe this is the way it has to be and I’m meant to be this kind of person.” And I suddenly felt peace, or at least acceptance. I woke up feeling perplexed. Looked at my arm, and just shook my head.

Not sure what triggered that dream. Well, that’s probably not true. I’ve been reading a wide variety of things regarding witchcraft, paganism, and the occult. But I’ve always kept an interest in these things so I don’t know what so different now.

*Some background: I grew up in a religiously split home. My mother is Christian and my father went from agnostic to atheist. I’ve been torn when it comes to religion my whole life. I think it’s safe to say I got a Bachleor’s Degree in Religious Studies because I was “searching” for clues. I believe there’s more than meets the eye in this world and have felt more spiritually inclined over the last year or 2. I don’t truly know what it means to worship but I’m curious to know. I just don’t know what path I’m on. I’m just inbetween. Pulled by “feeling.” *

Please feel free to chime in and give opinions or interpretations or share your own dreams. 🙂

*Note: Picture of this adorable Baphomet was created by Kate Logan (Artetak) and items featuring the image can be found here: https://society6.com/artetak

The Calming Effects of “The Great British Bake Off”

I stumbled upon “The Great British Bake Off” around December of last year and shamelessly binged watched it. Coincidentally my brother was binging it too. And we took great joy in texting back and forth getting the other to divulge opinions about the different bakes and bakers. Binging the series prompted me to put a ridiculous amount of cooking and baking tools on my Christmas wish list, because dammit I was going to be a baker.

I was going to be the one who made people Christmas goodie bullshit baskets except they were going to be filled with things that were actually good. It didn’t matter that my baking track record was not the best. Cooking is my thing. Baking is a different beast. Apparently, it’s not something you can do all willy-nilly intuitively like you can with cooking. There’s some serious science behind cakes. But I thought with Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood I could do it. And then I finished all 4 of the series (or collections) on Netflix and my fervor died down and I was left with a zester and Kitchen Aid hand mixer unused.

I was sad that there were no more episodes to escape in and other cooking and baking shows/competitions just made me anxious. So I let it go….for the moment. I didn’t understand why I fell so hard for “GBBO.” But it became clear to me a few weeks ago when I saw there were new episodes on Netflix. I nearly didn’t watch them because I didn’t want to get myself into a  baking tizzy again, and also there was the fact that the series would come to an end and I’d be left in a “GBBO” daze.

But I did it and it was blissful and re-ignited my desire to be a Master Baker (and also inspired me to buy and hoard baking books. True story: I’m addicted to books). My significant other’s birthday was coming up and I was going to make a cake completely from scratch. “GBBO” got me through it and while it wasn’t the most aesthetically pleasing cake and was a layer more than it was meant to be, it tasted like cake and some fancy blackberry jam and not 3 rubber tires and burnt sugar. SO maybe this year I will be that one with the Christmas baskets, but it’ll probably be more like “Here’s a Christmas Brown Bag!” Cause baskets and things to make them look “nice” are expensive and my decorating skills ain’t shit. Oh well.

Not the prettiest pic (or cake) but it was a success!

So what was the point of this post? Besides loving on some “Great Britsh Bake Off?” Mostly just that. GBBO is like an Anti-Anxiety medication.

It’s a mixture of hushed tones, lush nature, pastels, and the honest but unitimidating qualities of the judges. Even the contestants, in all their self-deprecating glory, seem like a family. You don’t feel the tension and see the cutthroat competitor in them like you see on most televised competitions you see in the States. As a viewer you can easily relate to them as they fumble around their work stations, constantly fretting or making mistakes. They lift one another up, and when one has to go home or wins Star Baker you’re just as emotional as them.

It’s just all very “feel good.” And to get over the ending of a series, I simply just put the show on again, and let it run as background noise when I’m home alone and need to feel some good vibes. Sounds oddball but whatever, it works. So if you haven’t had the opportuinity to experience “GBBO” I suggest you give it a go.

And as a side note: If you do get bit by the baking bug I have a few recomendations for books (books I shamelessly bought).




Ruby Tandoh was one of my favorite contestants and although I usually don’t buy “fan” books, I did and these do not disappoint. Ruby’s writing is laid back and interesting and she keeps the person on a budget in mind. Meaning I don’t have to skip a recipe because I don’t have $20 to spend on an uncommon ingredient or need some fancy equipment. The recipes are fun and simple (mostly). I’ll probably post on things I try to make out of these books.

The books by Paul and Mary however, are somewhat coffee table-ish but are totally usuable. The recipes are more involved and it can be quite overwhelming to just jump in. But they do give (particularly Paul’s books) very detailed instructions with good pictures for guidance.

New Beginnings & the Death of Lofty Goals

I originally started this blog about a year ago with some lofty and idealistic goals in mind. I wrote an initial post and left it. Deleted it. Wrote something else, and then one or two other posts and then let them sit for several months. More recently I deleted all posts and let The Slut Front sit blank for a couple more months. I hit a wall.

This blog has been living in a middle world of not alive but not dead. I think I’m going to give it another shot. This time no lofty goals or idealistic visions.

My passions and interests are scattered but my goal if I were to have one is to be me, ME. Not me in a social justice warrior’s armor. The initial inspiration for The Slut Front was the #MeToo movement. And even before the movement, inspiration could easily be snatched from my general experience and perspective as a woman and all the “extra” that comes with that. Extra caution. Extra preparation. Just extra. But I think there are plenty fantastic websites, blogs, forums & more that cover this, and while there will always be a need for women’s (marginalized) voices to be heard and to be heard in a safe and stimulating atmosphere, I don’t think I have the stamina to create such a platform and stay on top of it they way I would like to. It took me a year to come to this decision and it bothered me but I’ve come to terms that my needs and abilities are different from what I desire. So I’m compromising with myself in order to stay authentic to myself and release myself from the anxiety my initial plan induced.

So I’m using this space as my personal slice of the net to post about whatever strikes my fancy which will most likely be related to books, music, film, beauty, food, and the strange and unusual (a very Beetlejuice way of referring to the occult, the paranormal/supernatural, and the witchy). This blog is also a tool for me to keep a focus on something. I have a tendency to fall into a depression or be ate up with anxiety when I do not have something to keep my mind busy. So this is a blog where I give myself no rules or limitations. I’m keeping it light. I’m just gonna do me.