<?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' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540</id><updated>2012-01-27T19:07:48.118-08:00</updated><category term='silver suited aliens'/><category term='images'/><category term='animals'/><category term='missing time'/><category term='1960s'/><category term='bright lights'/><category term='UFO sightings'/><category term='shared experience'/><category term='California'/><category term='stars'/><category term='Oregon'/><category term='UFOs posing as something else'/><category term='cover or screen memories'/><category term='mediumship'/><category term='paintings'/><category term='meditation'/><category term='triangles'/><category term='astral realm'/><category term='dreams'/><category term='1980s'/><category term='1950s'/><category term='1970s'/><category term='craft'/><category term='visitations'/><category term='desert'/><category term='Arizona'/><category term='apathy'/><title type='text'>Saucer Sightings</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-1431373692931614958</id><published>2011-12-25T16:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-25T16:52:51.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Animal Legal Defense Fund 2011 U.S. Animal Protection Laws RankingsTM</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.aldf.org/article.php?id=1894"&gt;Animal Legal Defense Fund 2011 U.S. Animal Protection Laws RankingsTM&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glad to see Oregon is among the states with anti-cruelty laws, still, Oregon and all other states have a long way to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-1431373692931614958?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/1431373692931614958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=1431373692931614958&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/1431373692931614958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/1431373692931614958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2011/12/animal-legal-defense-fund-2011-us.html' title='Animal Legal Defense Fund 2011 U.S. Animal Protection Laws RankingsTM'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-9159827973059882503</id><published>2011-12-25T10:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-25T10:00:17.955-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia,&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;MERRY&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: lime;"&gt;CHRISTMAS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-9159827973059882503?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/9159827973059882503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=9159827973059882503&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/9159827973059882503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/9159827973059882503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2011/12/merry-christmas.html' title=''/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-5132487257891227423</id><published>2011-07-25T21:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T21:39:34.712-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Orange Orb: Entering the Orb part 2: Decision on Regression</title><content type='html'>Second entry, over at my blog The Orange Orb:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://orangeorb.blogspot.com/2011/07/entering-orb-part-2-decision-on.html"&gt;The Orange Orb: Entering the Orb part 2: Decision on Regression&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-5132487257891227423?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/5132487257891227423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=5132487257891227423&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/5132487257891227423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/5132487257891227423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2011/07/orange-orb-entering-orb-part-2-decision.html' title='The Orange Orb: Entering the Orb part 2: Decision on Regression'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-4116613618185920442</id><published>2011-07-25T02:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T02:13:07.694-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Orange Orb: Book Project: Entering the Orb</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://orangeorb.blogspot.com/2011/07/book-project-entering-orb.html"&gt;The Orange Orb: Book Project: Entering the Orb&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jim and I decided to start a new project, and that is: regress, retrieve or somehow get at our buried memories concerning our missing time episodes. Read more at my Orange Orb blog. This is an on-going journey; I'll give updates as we go along.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-4116613618185920442?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/4116613618185920442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=4116613618185920442&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/4116613618185920442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/4116613618185920442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2011/07/orange-orb-book-project-entering-orb.html' title='The Orange Orb: Book Project: Entering the Orb'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-5029216307778196139</id><published>2011-06-10T23:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-10T23:57:07.172-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='images'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='astral realm'/><title type='text'>My Not So Invisible Aliens</title><content type='html'>I've written in the past how my aliens are invisible; the memories of encounters come but without distinct images of the beings themselves. They are not specific. Paintings I've tried to do turn up stick figure, faceless diminutive entities, or white faced beings (mostly female) holding crescent shapes by midnight windows. In my dreams the awareness of extraterrestrials is present but nothing seen. Sometimes they're disguised, as in my Geisha Woman dream. Never any grays though. Which means either many things, or, nothing. It can mean that there aren't any such things as grays at all, they are simply figments. It can mean grays are what's being presented to us; they appear in my memories as disguised, because the "thing" that manifests as they grays are doing just that: disguising themselves. On and on, the assumptions and interpretations are endless. We can even say the grays are indeed literal; they're there because, they are there. It's all very simple: real aliens from real other planets really appearing just as they are. I like that last the best because it's easy and simple and obvious, but of course, I doubt -- &lt;i&gt;very -- &lt;/i&gt;much it's that way at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, last night, a dream about aliens that was scary and creepy. Full of violence and chaos. And a bit of an odd parallel to my husband's dream of last night. The dream:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'm in charge of a large group of people, sort of like a work situation, in fact, we're all in a large building of some kind. It's night. I'm not sure why I'm the one in charge, I don't really want to be here or do this thing, whatever it is, but that's the way it is. For some reason, it becomes imperative I get everyone here to change into aliens. We're almost in a panic, running around rapidly trying to change ourselves into aliens. We shape shift. Some of us put on costumes, some of us just manage to somehow physically turn into the things we want to look like, but we all manage to do it and in the end, we've all actually have turned into, or become, aliens. Except we're still whoever we really are inside. All kinds of aliens, from B Movie types of monster aliens to really creepy scary types, Reptilians, etc. But none of them, not one, is anywhere close to a gray.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I have a lucid moment in the dream, where I say something like "Hey, there aren't any grays here, this is pretty weird."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;We have to change our appearance like this, looking like aliens (and throughout the dream the word and concept of "alien" as in ET, was used, never "monster") because something big, and bad, and very very heavy is coming. I'm trying to keep everyone calm; it's clear it won't take much for a panic to set in.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Suddenly, without warning and very much to our shock and dismay, the real aliens arrive. There are dozens and dozens of them, and they look like us in our alien disguises, but they're bigger, badder, and, well, much more "real." We look like cheap knock-offs; they're the real deal.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;And not a gray among them, and I say again "Where are the grays?"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;These aliens are not happy. They are mean and aggressive and are out to do us harm. We're all running around trying to escape. It's awful. But at the same time, I manage to stand back a little, sort of outside the dream, or above it, and think how silly it is, all these aliens running around. Aliens of both varieties; them, and us in our shape shifting alien "costumes." And yet while we humans are still human and only look alien from the outside, we are also, while wearing our alien outfits, definitely alien as well. We have changed our physical bodies -- not just put on a costume we can easily remove. It took a lot of hard work to change into aliens, and it'll be hard to change back. Our spirits, or essences, are still human, but physically on every level, for now, we are alien. To other humans, we look as alien as the real aliens, only the real aliens can tell the difference. Mainly through smell.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Well, it all sounds like a&amp;nbsp; science fiction movie, and a bad one at that, but that's dreams for you. I'm not delving into the meanings of it all at the moment, but I did find it interesting that the grays continue to be elusive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-5029216307778196139?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/5029216307778196139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=5029216307778196139&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/5029216307778196139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/5029216307778196139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-not-so-invisible-aliens.html' title='My Not So Invisible Aliens'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-4939959273411849941</id><published>2010-12-09T20:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-09T20:11:07.080-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='images'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bright lights'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='craft'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='visitations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='astral realm'/><title type='text'>OBEs, Green Window with non-human entity</title><content type='html'>Location: Eugene, OR&lt;br /&gt;Date: December 2010&lt;br /&gt;Category: astral travel, OBE, aliens, green light&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Tuesday night (December 7th)&amp;nbsp; I had the following experience:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strange things happened last night... I woke up around midnight. It took me a few moments to figure out what wasn't right; the alarm clock was blacked out, the little red pinpoints of light on the receiver were out, etc. I went into the bathroom, and noticed the alarm clock in there was black, the night light was out, the overhead light didn't come on when I flipped the switch. Clearly the power had gone out. Great. I tried to wake Jim, but he didn't wake up. I was both glad and frustrated at that; I didn't want to disturb him, but didn't want the power out all night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to go back to sleep, but kept waking up.&amp;nbsp; Then, I had an OBE. My first one in a long long time. I felt like someone was pulling on my foot, pulling me out. I was delighted at this, excited, but also a little nervous. Something different this time than the other times; I'd start to leave my body, then, stop where I was. Just like being in an elevator going up&amp;nbsp; and stopping at a floor for a few moments. I saw a green point of light in my mind/astral plane, then it came closer and was a window, with a humanoid shape figure standing in it, watching me. I had the feeling it was very human like, but not human. That scared me a bit. The the "elevator" started up again, upwards, and I had that same feeling of being both excited and nervous. I was telling myself not to panic, not to be scared,&amp;nbsp; just let it be. But, we stopped again. Waited. In a holding pattern. Then started up again. This went on for awhile, and then, to my great frustration, I started to come back down. I tried to resist falling back into myself, into "reality" but I just couldn't seem to get beyond the point where I left my body completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I managed to get to sleep, kind of... had an epic dream (one of those dreams that was extremely long and detailed, complicated plot, etc. ) but still slept poorly. After about an hour woke up to find power back on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Then, last night, (December 8th) I had the following:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what is happening, or why, but I had &lt;a href="http://orangeorb.blogspot.com/2010/12/power-outage-obe.html"&gt;the same OBE experience last night I had the other night, and wrote about here.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, it happened again. Felt that rushing OBE feeling, the feeling of being pulled from my feet, and the image of a green window with a tall humanoid figure inside. This time, the window came into view very quickly, very suddenly, looming large, and it arrived in a swirling mass of colors. I say the window was green; meaning, it had a soft glowing lime green color, as if the interior of whatever it was the window was attached to, was lit by a green light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't make out the features on the face of the being standing in the window; but I got the sense it was tall. I don't know if it was a "gray" or what; maybe related somehow but I didn't get the impression it was, not completely anyway. It was also wearing clothing, or at least I had that impression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I "saw" that window, I resisted, and knew I didn't want any part of this. I managed to break out of this and snap back into my body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to have OBE's frequently, especially as a child. Now I get them a few times a year. I rarely get them together like this; where I'll have two in the same week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other things of an odd nature that have been happening may or may not be connected to this. I've been thinking of things and then they happen. For example, this summer I sought out a consultation about dental work; I didn't follow up. But this past week, I'd been thinking heavily about that and how I need to get the work going. I came home from work to find a message on my machine from the dentist office, saying they had my paperwork from the insurance and to make an appointment. The thing is, the insurance would have come in a long time ago, -- I had been thinking how flakey they were that they hadn't called months ago --&amp;nbsp; anyway, here I was thinking about the dental work and out of the blue, they call me. Another thing that happened was this comment left on &lt;a href="http://forteanswest.com/wordpress-mu/oregonlowfi/2010/07/21/remote-viewer-ed-dames-on-missing-kyron-horman/"&gt;my blog for the L.O.W.F.I. site the other day about one person's vision of where the missing child Kyron Hammon is. This person's "vision" matches my own.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-4939959273411849941?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/4939959273411849941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=4939959273411849941&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/4939959273411849941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/4939959273411849941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2010/12/obes-green-window-with-non-human-entity.html' title='OBEs, Green Window with non-human entity'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-8946530751415381593</id><published>2010-08-04T09:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-04T09:41:47.029-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Orange Orb: Blue Suited Aliens in Parking Garage</title><content type='html'>Date: August 3, 2010&lt;br /&gt;Location: Eugene, OR/West Hollywood, CA&lt;br /&gt;Category: Dreams&lt;br /&gt;Related areas: missing time, MILABS, hybrids&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://orangeorb.blogspot.com/2010/08/blue-suited-aliens-in-parking-garage.html"&gt;The Orange Orb: Blue Suited Aliens in Parking Garage&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-8946530751415381593?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://orangeorb.blogspot.com/2010/08/blue-suited-aliens-in-parking-garage.html' title='The Orange Orb: Blue Suited Aliens in Parking Garage'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/8946530751415381593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=8946530751415381593&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/8946530751415381593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/8946530751415381593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2010/08/orange-orb-blue-suited-aliens-in.html' title='The Orange Orb: Blue Suited Aliens in Parking Garage'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-1236514064491097900</id><published>2010-07-19T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T17:13:11.491-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oregon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='astral realm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='animals'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Category: Dream&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Location: Eugene, OR&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Date: July 2010&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;(cross posted on The Orange Orb) &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'm standing inside a grove of trees. It's daytime. A woman is with me; she's tall, possibly in her mid to late thirties, long white hair, dressed in a long white gown, with gold trim. She's slightly pale; not unhealthy, just a white cast to her skin. She lives here, or knows all about this place, and is my guide to this place. Not many are allowed to come here, or know about this place. I don't know why I'm here exactly, or how I got here, but here I am.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/TDoFpnR19cI/AAAAAAAAFdE/ojGCw9oaB-4/s1600/redbluejay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/TDoFpnR19cI/AAAAAAAAFdE/ojGCw9oaB-4/s200/redbluejay.jpg" width="171" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'm in the middle of the grove, the woman is behind me, slightly to my left. A blue jay appears and flies, in circles, around me, faster and faster. I am excited and surprised at both the appearance of the blue jay, as well as its behavior. The blue jay looks exactly like a blue jay, except that it's red. I call out "Look, look at that! The blue jay is red, it's red!" almost like a child would exclaim. The bird keeps flying around me, in a perfect circle, faster and faster. Now I'm feeling a little alarmed; this is strange behavior for any bird.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;The woman tells me to stand still, and watch. And wait.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;The red blue jay keeps flying faster, ever faster, in a circle around me. Then it changes into a hummingbird. I call out, again almost like a child:&amp;nbsp; "It's a hummingbird, a hummingbird! It turned into a hummingbird!" The woman tells me to look closer, and I realize it's not a hummingbird, it's not a bird of any kind, it's an orb.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;A small reddish-brown orb, a solid object, a definite machine of some kind. The orb keeps moving around me, ever faster, in a circle, as I stand there. The woman sternly tells me to stay there and watch. What I'm about to see is very important, she tells me, and I'm here for a reason.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;And unfortunately, that's when I wake up.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had this dream the night I posted &lt;a href="http://orangeorb.blogspot.com/2010/07/colin-andrews-new-images-of-orb-object.html"&gt; this item about Colin Andrews news about an orb and crop circles. &lt;/a&gt; The next day I received an email from Colin Andrews. And found&amp;nbsp; that Nick Redfern had a moving post about his recent experiences with birds: &lt;a href="http://monsterusa.blogspot.com/2010/07/dead-birds.html"&gt;Dead Birds, on There's Something in the Woods.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days ago I experienced bird synchronicities. We were driving out Lorane Highway on our way to "The House of Mystery," Oregon's vortex in Gold Hill (a place known for being a UFO hot spot of sorts, and home to some abduction accounts, one which I wrote about &lt;a href="http://binnallofamerica.com/tr10.26.9.html"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt;) The night before, I had a persistent uncomfortable feeling about driving out there. As much as I wanted to see the place, I just didn't feel right about going out there. I woke up bitchy and grumpy and told Jim if he didn't want to go it was all right. He said it was fine. As we were driving, we saw vultures on the side of the road. Not unusual to see vultures but we don't often see them right on the side of the road like that, just standing there. Suddenly, just as we drive by, one swoops up into the air, a long snake dangling from its claws.&amp;nbsp; We both thought that was odd, and kept driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told Jim again that we didn't have to go; this time he said he didn't want to go either. By this time we were on the interstate; too far to turn back for nothing, yet, didn't want to go. He told me he couldn't explain it but had the same feeling. He didn't say anything because he didn't want to influence me, and knew I wanted to go. I assured him I couldn't explain it but had a bad feeling about going. We happily agreed to go to Wildlife Safari instead and had a great time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way back, traveling again on Lorane Highway, we saw more vultures&amp;nbsp; standing right on the side of the road, several miles from where we saw the first vultures. We commented on how odd this was, then noticed the vulture was standing on top of a dead deer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-1236514064491097900?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/1236514064491097900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=1236514064491097900&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/1236514064491097900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/1236514064491097900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2010/07/category-dream-location-eugene-or-date.html' title=''/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/TDoFpnR19cI/AAAAAAAAFdE/ojGCw9oaB-4/s72-c/redbluejay.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-662451311720173069</id><published>2010-07-19T11:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T11:33:35.626-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='UFOs posing as something else'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='craft'/><title type='text'>The Sinister Teddy Bear UFO</title><content type='html'>Category: Dream&lt;br /&gt;Place: Eugene, OR&lt;br /&gt;Date: July 16, 2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;(cross posted at &lt;a href="http://orangeorb.blogspot.com/2010/07/sinister-teddy-bear-ufo.html"&gt;The Orange Orb,&lt;/a&gt; with remarks, and comments left by readers)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my "dreamscapes" -- coastal town, rural. Jim and I are in the parking lot of a roadhouse type place, not uptown and urban enough for a club, but not just a diner either. Pool, music, dancing, beer, that kind of place. In the parking lot, at night, and enjoying this small coastal-rural kind of place. We're in a nice, comfortable small town place, but just over the hill (s) we can see the city lights of a major metropolitan place. So we're removed from the maddening crowd, yet it does exist. If we want to, which we don't, we can drive an hour or so and be in the big time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. In the parking lot, two people come out, friends of ours. (I hesitated mentioning that, in the dream, they were a gay couple. I hesitated because their sexuality doesn't matter, yet it must have been important in my dream-head.&amp;nbsp; I have two very close friends who have moved to Hawaii; they're gay, and I miss them very much. I consider them both to be true brothers of mine, and when they moved to Hawaii a few years ago I was devastated. I don't know what that has to do with the rest of this dream, but there it is.)&amp;nbsp; They've lived here a long time, and know all there is to know about the place. I look up at the sky, it is beautiful! Just incredibly beautiful, sparkling, glittering, twinkling stars. White, pale violet, light green and blue hues, just astoundingly wonderful. This too is one of my dreamscapes; the night sky in all her starry wonder.&amp;nbsp; Not only is it beautiful, full of stars that are &lt;i&gt;alive,&lt;/i&gt; but it is very "busy." So much is going on up there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turn my attention back to Jim, our friends, the parking lot. Which is fairly empty. Except for a giant teddy bear. Sitting there, by the dilapidated wooden fence, is a dark brown teddy bear. A &lt;i&gt;giant &lt;/i&gt;dark brown teddy bear. It's about ten feet high, and about four feet wide. There is something creepy about this. I go over to it, and look at it, look inside it, for I notice the eyes and other little compartments, or windows... lit up a bit from inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two friends tell us it does seem odd, but it's just the bear the town uses in the 4th of July parade every year. For the kids. I say "Well, what is it doing here &lt;i&gt;now&lt;/i&gt;; the 4th is over with -- and in the middle of the night, in a roadhouse parking lot?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This never occurred to them. They agree it &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; weird. Come to think of it, they're not sure if it's actually ever been in any parade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, then" one of them offers, "It's some kind of new toy for the kids. A gift from the city, or maybe a promo thing from a toy company."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I peer into the weird little eye slots and other places where a yellowish light barely glows. "I don't think so," I say. "Uh uh. This is no toy." When I say that, the bear moves, jerkily, stiffly, and the lights get brighter. I can tell it is pissed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is no damn toy, it's a UFO!" I say, and the light gets stronger, and the energy from this seeming inanimate object is malevolent. Now everyone is nervous and knows I'm right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the moment I noticed the teddy bear is really a UFO in disguise, the sky above gets really busy. Suddenly, there are several dozens of UFOs zeroing in on us. They know we're on to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's become clear that this teddy bear was an attempt on "their" (sigh, aliens I guess) part to sneak into human society. But they didn't get the concept down right. Toy, yes: teddy bear. But they goofed on the other factors, as with the utter high strangeness aspect of a ten foot tall, malevolent teddy bear with glowing eyes in a roadhouse parking lot in the middle of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, things are not so good. Everyone is either panicked, or getting there fast. We sense panic from over the hill; everyone, everywhere, is aware something is not right. I'm none too happy about this either and I am nervous, but I'm used to it, been there, done that, is the feeling I have, as well as Jim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-662451311720173069?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/662451311720173069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=662451311720173069&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/662451311720173069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/662451311720173069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2010/07/sinister-teddy-bear-ufo.html' title='The Sinister Teddy Bear UFO'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-1140542576814773555</id><published>2009-12-31T13:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T13:08:48.515-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cover or screen memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bright lights'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='craft'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='astral realm'/><title type='text'>Creepy Water Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Date: December 28, 2009&lt;br /&gt;Category: Dream&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/Sz0SV2exm3I/AAAAAAAAE0s/uev_bOdJuM0/s1600-h/largealice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/Sz0SV2exm3I/AAAAAAAAE0s/uev_bOdJuM0/s200/largealice.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;A disturbing dream the other night. I can't shake the creepy emotions of the dream, which had a very strong "invisible alien" UFO vibe to it, even though no UFOs or aliens were seen in the dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the dream, I'm:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;in the kitchen of the house I grew up on Sherbourne Drive in Los Angeles. I'm me, now, kind of, but in typical dream logic also younger, in my late twenties, maybe. It's nighttime, I can see the inky prussian blue sky outside the kitchen window, and the overhead kitchen light is on. The light bothers me; it's very bright and harsh. Everything is out of the kitchen, except for what I assume is the big silver refrigerator behind me (ours was green, and then we had a brown one, but never silver) and the kitchen is flooded with water. The water comes up to my ankles. I'm trying to mop the water up with an old fashioned type of mop, but it's a big job. I can't leave; something, or someone, is keeping me here. I feel like I'm in a fairy tale, where the job must be done, as dictated by the non-human creature: fairy, elf, troll, witch, etc. I'm kind of like Alice; growing taller, the kitchen is becoming smaller. I have the acute sense that a UFO is just outside, and the aliens -- those small, invisible spindly little creatures that I can't see but know, without any doubt, are there -- are watching me.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just remembered that before going to sleep, I did my intent thing of trying to get at some of this UFO stuff in my life, retrieve some information, memories, of experiences.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-1140542576814773555?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/1140542576814773555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=1140542576814773555&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/1140542576814773555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/1140542576814773555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2009/12/date-december-28-2009-category-dream.html' title='Creepy Water Dream'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/Sz0SV2exm3I/AAAAAAAAE0s/uev_bOdJuM0/s72-c/largealice.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-7878689524662386973</id><published>2009-11-21T16:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T16:17:31.089-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='images'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='UFO sightings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='triangles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oregon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='craft'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='paintings'/><title type='text'>Fun With Triangle Drawing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SwiCt_te1JI/AAAAAAAAEoM/zkuh2xhDOgE/s1600/triangledrawing1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SwiCt_te1JI/AAAAAAAAEoM/zkuh2xhDOgE/s400/triangledrawing1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;A few years ago I was playing around with manipulated images of UFO themed drawings that I'd done,inspired by my own sightings. Here's one of the triangle I saw in Dexter, Oregon, many years ago.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-7878689524662386973?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/7878689524662386973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=7878689524662386973&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/7878689524662386973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/7878689524662386973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2009/11/fun-with-triangle-drawing.html' title='Fun With Triangle Drawing'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SwiCt_te1JI/AAAAAAAAEoM/zkuh2xhDOgE/s72-c/triangledrawing1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-7872892657299218318</id><published>2009-11-07T13:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T14:02:46.678-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cover or screen memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='apathy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='UFO sightings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oregon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1980s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bright lights'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='missing time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='animals'/><title type='text'>The Orange Orb: UFO Hunter's 'Dark Presence' Episode and Wolf Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;div id="item5727770" class="journal-entry"&gt;    &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I wrote this for UFO Magazine's blog last night, after watching UFO Hunter's episode on the orange orb sightings. I found that what the witnesses were describing matched much of my own sighting of an orange orb many years ago in Eugene, Oregon:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Orange Orb: UFO Hunter's "Dark Presence" Episode&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            &lt;div class="body"&gt;        &lt;p&gt;Watching this episode of UFO Hunters ("Dark Presence") about the orange orb UFOs seen in recent months was an intensely personal experience for me because of my own orange orb sighting.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;It seems that witnesses have been seeing orange (and sometimes green or other colored) orb UFOs. These are not orbs as in spirit orbs, which are very different, but spheres -- round objects -- that are craft, or machine, or something "nuts and bolts."&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;These sightings are occurring now, but go back a ways as well. One woman who appeared, her identity disguised, saw one of these orbs when she was child. My own sighting took place over twenty-five years ago in Oregon.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;There are many parallels to my orange orb sighting -- and the sighting that started me on my path of exploration into UFOs -- and the ones discussed in the UFO Hunters episode. Many witnesses reported feelings of dread, of fear, though some had experienced feelings of elation, upon seeing these orbs. I had both: feelings of a happy intrigue when I first saw the orb, and a real goofy, almost psychedelic response right after seeing it. And yet, even though I actually walked to the front door after going inside, with the intent of going back outside to look for the orb, I couldn't do it. I couldn't open the door. I remember thinking how odd it was that here I just saw an incredible thing -- experienced an incredible thing -- yet couldn't make myself go out to look further.  I also had the most terrifying dreams of my life right after seeing the orb. These dreams were always the same: I'm paralyzed inside a brilliant white beam of light that is so bright I can almost see through things. There is something huge above me, some kind of object. My husband is nearby but has been taken from me and I'm screaming for him, for "them" to return us to. . . or get us out of, wherever the hell we are.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;These orbs were described by witnesses as being basket ball sized, or even larger, like a beach ball. That's exactly how I've been describing the size of the orb I saw all these years. Witnesses also said they felt a premonition, or some kind of telepathic communication between the orb and themselves; I also had that experience when I first saw the orb. I had glanced up having noticed the orb, which I estimated to be about a mile away. I had the distinct feeling it was waiting for me, and as soon as I thought "What the hell is that thing?" it zoomed right to me, following us along the road. As we turned the corner to go home (our house was right around the corner) the orb stopped for a moment above a house across the road from us, then just sank down, "landing" in their backyard. Similar behavior was reported by witnesses on the UFO Hunters episode.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;People have asked me if there were lights on this thing, and I've always described as a real, physical craft (as opposed to a cloud, or a spirit orb, etc.) and no lights on it, or around it, but lit from within. Witnesses on UFO Hunters described their orbs the same way.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Missing time was mentioned by at least one witness; I also experienced missing time in connection with this orb.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;On this last point, there's something very strange. To this day, after countless discussions, my husband and I still differ on some things. These points where of disagreement were brought up again as we were watching UFO Hunters. He insisted we saw the orange orb when we lived on Hilyard street... I had to remind him of the detail of that sighting, which happened when we were on Friendly street. He seemed to then remember that yes, we were living on Friendly street when we saw the orange orb, but the missing time happened when we were on Hilyard, during a different UFO sighting. But neither of us can remember where we were coming from when we saw the orb. Where had we been? Why can't we remember? It was dark when we saw the orb; where would we be coming from in that direction? We were on our way in back to town when we saw the orange orb-- so &lt;em&gt;where were we?&lt;/em&gt; We don't know. Does this mean we have had &lt;em&gt;three&lt;/em&gt; episodes of missing time?&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Recently, I posted on my blog &lt;a href="http://ufomagazine.squarespace.com/ufo-magazine/2009/11/6/ss_temp_url"&gt;The Orange Orb &lt;/a&gt;my experiment of trying to remember these missing time events. Maybe with focused intent, through dreams and other methods, I can uncover what happened.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;When I had my orb sighting all those years ago, I read every book I could find on UFOs. I found all kinds of fascinating information, but nothing that came close to describing what I saw. Yet UFO Hunters showed us that these orb sightings have been experienced by many, and are happening now.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Was the orb I saw the same kind of orb talked about in UFO Hunters? Sounds like it. While the time line is different -- mine was over twenty-five years ago, and, from what I could find at the time, didn't seem to match up with any reports -- there were witnesses who'd seen orbs long ago, as well as more recently.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;Lots of speculation on what the orbs are of course from witnesses and researchers, but we can't say for sure. What did I see that night? An orange orb lit from within, the size of a beach ball, that followed me, seemed to be waiting for me, could read my thoughts. Where did it come from, who made it and why, what did it want -- those are questions I have no answer for, even after all these years.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Post script: I wrote this last night right after watching the UFO Hunters episode. That same night I had the following dream that, while no UFO or alien was present, or even alluded to, had a very strong UFO vibe to it. When I woke up, the first thought I had was a clear "That was about my orb sighting. . . "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nervous Wolves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's nighttime, and very, very dark. Ink black. I'm outside the house I live in, which is a white, small little building -- there is only an upstairs, like a small apartment, that is reached by a narrow flight of stairs. The stairs are inside, in other words, they're surrounded by walls. There's nothing underneath, just the covered stairs leading up to the apartment, which sits on a little hill. This place is surrounded by woods, the trees are bare. It's impossible to see into the woods since it is so dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason, I'm outside the house/apartment. I'm surrounded by my "pets" which are wolves, and wolf hybrids. The wolves are very nervous, agitated. Even though these animals are "mine" we have an odd relationship. I find myself wondering why I have wolf hybrids as pets, since I don't think people should own such animals (neither wolves, or, hybrids) and I would never own such beings. Yet I've ended up with them somehow. They are my protectors in some ways, yet are also unpredictable. I'm a little wary around them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also concerned, they're skinny. I wonder why, have I not been feeding them properly? Then again, some of them have just sort of shown up from "out there" and joined us. I feel responsible for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here we are, out in the ink black night, starless, on a grayish hill of parched grass. Something awful has happened in the woods, many of the wolves come running up, and we all run up the stairs into the house. There is a man in uniform kneeling down inside, working on something, some kind of control panel or machine or something. He's human and kind of creepy. I tell him he has to do something, that there's some kind of creature out there attacking my wolves. "Maybe a rabid raccoon, I don't know, something, but we have to kill it" I say. He ignores me, he's pretty cold. There's also something about another man who kind of sneaks off, thinking I didn't notice. I also wonder what the hell these guys are doing in this, "my" house, but I also know that they're in charge. Since they're in charge, I demand they protect us, fix things. But they don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I care about are my wolves, and myself of course. . . just save us, get us the hell out of here, and take care of that nasty thing out there that's trying to hurt these poor wolves who aren't hurting anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the end of the dream, or, all I remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-7872892657299218318?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/7872892657299218318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=7872892657299218318&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/7872892657299218318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/7872892657299218318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2009/11/orange-orb-ufo-hunters-dark-presence.html' title='The Orange Orb: UFO Hunter&apos;s &apos;Dark Presence&apos; Episode and Wolf Dream'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-338026760637970899</id><published>2009-10-28T19:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T19:33:16.702-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='California'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1970s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='craft'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='missing time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='astral realm'/><title type='text'>The Letter P in a Triangle: Gift from the Aliens</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Location: Los Angeles,California: West Hollywood&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Date: approximately 1977&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Category: Dreams&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I had this dream during a strange time in Los Angeles. I was interested in UFOs, as with most things paranormal or Fortean, but didn't know much about those things. I hadn't recalled any conscious UFO sighting or experience at the time. And yet, looking back, there was a lot of UFO stuff going on around the edges; missing time, strange dreams like my Geisha Woman dream, etc. One dream I had involved the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:130%;" &gt;I'm inside a spaceship. I'm not paritucalry scared, but am confused. There is the definite presence of aliens, though I can't see them. It's very important, this "meeting" and I tell them I want to remember this, bring something back. I'm handed (again by unseen beings) a pendant, of sorts. It's a triangle but with rounded corners, and a symbol that is similar to the letter P. Almost like a runic P, but not a rune.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I take the pendant back with me, but upon landing, or returning, the pendant disappears in front of me, right in my very hands. It just dematerializes.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This dream seemed very important and I remember I wrote it down at the time, complete with a sketch of the pendant. Over three decades ago, who knows what's happened to whatever journal I had at the time, and, as I said, I wasn't cognizant of abductions, the UFO phenomena in any depth, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-338026760637970899?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/338026760637970899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=338026760637970899&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/338026760637970899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/338026760637970899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2009/10/letter-p-in-triangle-gift-from-aliens.html' title='The Letter P in a Triangle: Gift from the Aliens'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-5265363047748392780</id><published>2009-07-30T12:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T12:13:47.098-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Candy and Jellyfish Sky</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Category: Dream&lt;br /&gt;Location: Eugene, Oregon&lt;br /&gt;Date: July 29, 2009&lt;br /&gt;Keywords: &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;sea life, cloaking, UFOs, disinformation, cover-ups, sky beings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SnG4ySBTGqI/AAAAAAAAEYE/BklYhSJosGk/s1600-h/windowslivewriterjellyfishcuriouscreatures-ff89jellyfish1112.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 217px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SnG4ySBTGqI/AAAAAAAAEYE/BklYhSJosGk/s320/windowslivewriterjellyfishcuriouscreatures-ff89jellyfish1112.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364271805145225890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very active, involved, epic dream adventure last night; here's one "episode" about UFOs:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I'm outside, daylight, with a group of about a dozen people. I'm in the neighborhood where I grew up in Los Angeles, a few residential streets away from my house. However, I'm "me" now, an adult, with my husband here, not a child. I look up in the sky, which is full of huge white puffy clouds, just lovely, though the clouds seem kind of low. We can almost reach out and touch them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I see several huge jellyfish in the sky swarming right above us. This is so amazing, so beautiful! They're about the size of orcas, they're dancing and swirling and "swimming" in the sky/clouds. I get everyone's attention and we watch the jellyfish, then it dawns on us that "Hey, wait just a minute . . . jellyfish don't belong in the sky!" I, we, quickly understand that the jellyfish aren't "real" jellyfish but UFOs. I suddenly seem to be full of knowledge that the jellyfish appearance is "how they cloak themselves" I tell everyone. "They've been doing this for years," I say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone asks, "Shouldn't we tell someone, like the police?" and I say that it wouldn't do any good, they already know all about it, and won't do anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a little bit, the jellyfish begin to change. First one, then the other, they either disappear by just "blinking out," or they change form. From a breathtaking creature of nature, to a garish cartoony image of candy, the sky has now become a billboard of sorts, advertising candy with silly goofy images, like the blue M&amp;M's doll, things like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh," everyone laughs, relieved. "It's just an ad for candy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can still see, faintly, a few jellyfish/UFOs in the sky, but they've gone dim and are in the background a bit. I tell everyone "No, you're wrong! That's what they want you to think! It's not real."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone says "Of course they're not real; it's a commercial for candy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exasperated, I say "Not that! I mean, the jellyfish are real, it's the candy that isn't!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why would the jellyfish pretend to be candy?" Someone asks me, suspiciously, as if I've somehow caused the whole thing. Worse, that I'm up to no good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I know things I didn't realized I knew, as if the jellyfish are sending information to my head. "I mean, the government knows about the jellyfish, and they're using the candy to distract us from the jellyfish UFOs."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At that moment, dozens of brightly colored, over sized candy images drop from the sky onto the sidewalk. Dolls, figures, walking talking boxes, etc. of various candy types line up on the sidewalk right in front of us, hold hands, and start dancing and singing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone is delighted with this garish and silly display. "See!" someone turns to me, sneering. "It's just a cute candy ad; nothing weird about it." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, the jellyfish are still up there; faint, but there. I try once again to convince them they're not really seeing what they think they are, or, that they're not seeing at all, but I've been dismissed. (The only person who sees the truth is my husband, but he's shouted down as well whenever he tries to support what I'm saying.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, I briefly wonder why, if the jellyfish don't want to be seen, are they appearing as jellyfish in the sky? Isn't that contrary to where jellyfish reside? Then again, this reversal of jellyfish habitat might be so that we do pay attention. After all, they're aware that they will be denied, so appearing as jellyfish or some other out of place object would be sure to get noticed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Well, that's that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Related post: On Women of Esoterica;&lt;a href="http://womenesoterica.blogspot.com/2009/07/jellyfish-dreams.html"&gt; Jellyfish Dreams.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-5265363047748392780?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/5265363047748392780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=5265363047748392780&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/5265363047748392780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/5265363047748392780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2009/07/candy-and-jellyfish-sky.html' title='The Candy and Jellyfish Sky'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SnG4ySBTGqI/AAAAAAAAEYE/BklYhSJosGk/s72-c/windowslivewriterjellyfishcuriouscreatures-ff89jellyfish1112.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-4896748924566046942</id><published>2009-07-10T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T12:58:17.327-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='silver suited aliens'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='California'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1950s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='images'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1960s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='visitations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='paintings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='astral realm'/><title type='text'>Silver Suited Aliens</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SledLsSvdFI/AAAAAAAAES0/pfTaWye2QoI/s1600-h/patioalien.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 215px; height: 183px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SledLsSvdFI/AAAAAAAAES0/pfTaWye2QoI/s320/patioalien.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356923105974383698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an article in the current issue of &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;UFO Magazine&lt;/span&gt; about Silver Suited Aliens. Here's an oil pastel drawing I did a few years ago of a being I saw in California when I was about four years old. And here's a link to my recent item on Aliens vs. Bigfoot on my blog &lt;a href="http://paranormalbigfoot.blogspot.com"&gt; Frame 352: The Stranger Side of Sasquatch.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-4896748924566046942?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/4896748924566046942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=4896748924566046942&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/4896748924566046942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/4896748924566046942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2009/07/silver-suited-aliens.html' title='Silver Suited Aliens'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SledLsSvdFI/AAAAAAAAES0/pfTaWye2QoI/s72-c/patioalien.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-4313424756104438705</id><published>2009-06-18T18:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T22:11:03.771-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='images'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1980s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='paintings'/><title type='text'>The Visitors</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SkWp2tGgxpI/AAAAAAAAD4I/Ge7ngQIXuG8/s1600-h/visitorsrlee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 255px; height: 259px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SkWp2tGgxpI/AAAAAAAAD4I/Ge7ngQIXuG8/s320/visitorsrlee.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351870489484641938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Category: Painting&lt;br /&gt;Location: Eugene, Oregon&lt;br /&gt;Date: about 1990&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I never saw anything like this of course but the image just came to me one day, asking to be painted. I had fun doing it. I was just getting into the whole UFO abduction/alien realm, and it was after my experiences with the "orange orb" and missing time.  It's acrylic painted on masonite (the rough side) and measures about 24" x 30"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-4313424756104438705?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/4313424756104438705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=4313424756104438705&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/4313424756104438705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/4313424756104438705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2009/06/visitors.html' title='The Visitors'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SkWp2tGgxpI/AAAAAAAAD4I/Ge7ngQIXuG8/s72-c/visitorsrlee.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-1595050616650869581</id><published>2009-06-13T23:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T23:28:25.857-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='craft'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='astral realm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meditation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='animals'/><title type='text'>"Giant Crab From Space" Adventures in the Trance State</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Date: June 12, 2009&lt;br /&gt;Location: Eugene, Oregon&lt;br /&gt;Category: dreams, trance, meditation, astral plane, symbols&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SjSX-6ZayXI/AAAAAAAADfg/zoLEPtwGP_Y/s1600-h/300_475094.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 299px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SjSX-6ZayXI/AAAAAAAADfg/zoLEPtwGP_Y/s320/300_475094.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347065764679174514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Link to &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Alien Seeker News&lt;/span&gt; of space visions dancing in my head during a light trance state: &lt;a href="http://www.alienseekernews.com/articles/giant-crab-from-space.html"&gt;Giant Crab From Space: Adventures in a Trance State.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-1595050616650869581?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/1595050616650869581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=1595050616650869581&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/1595050616650869581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/1595050616650869581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2009/06/giant-crab-from-space-adventures-in.html' title='&quot;Giant Crab From Space&quot; Adventures in the Trance State'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SjSX-6ZayXI/AAAAAAAADfg/zoLEPtwGP_Y/s72-c/300_475094.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-6789138707138903341</id><published>2009-05-03T18:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T19:05:06.161-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='California'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1950s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='desert'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='UFO sightings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shared experience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arizona'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='craft'/><title type='text'>Shared Experiences, Connections</title><content type='html'>Category: Craft, desert sightings, nighttime sightings, shared experiences&lt;br /&gt;Location: California, Arizona&lt;br /&gt;Date: 1950s, 1980s&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an article at UFO Digest right now that discusses the connections I and my husband have regarding the UFO phenomena, our childhood experiences, etc. &lt;a href="http://www.ufodigest.com/news/0509/probably-abducted.php"&gt;"Like You, You Probably Were Abducted . . ."&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of connections among people that know each other, or families. . . my uncle and his family had a sighting in the California desert in the 1950s, not sure of the exact date. Typical, almost: night, alone out there in the middle of nowhere, huge light comes from out of nowhere, follows them, hangs out for awhile above their car, then zooms off. My husband's cousins, along with a group of friends,  had a similar experience in the Arizona desert, at night, with a green beam of light coming down from the craft to the surface of the desert floor. Believe me, if you know this individual, he does not elaborate or make things up; very straight as an arrow kind of person.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-6789138707138903341?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/6789138707138903341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=6789138707138903341&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/6789138707138903341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/6789138707138903341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2009/05/shared-experiences-connections.html' title='Shared Experiences, Connections'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-8282807051611174560</id><published>2009-04-26T00:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T00:31:21.979-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cover or screen memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='animals'/><title type='text'>Alien Ant Watercolor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;This was originally posted on my &lt;a href="http://orangeorb.blogspot.net"&gt;The Orange Orb blog&lt;/a&gt; in June of 2008.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SEsd14gE_bI/AAAAAAAABc8/NZNTodIdA_k/s1600-h/Photo+83.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SEsd14gE_bI/AAAAAAAABc8/NZNTodIdA_k/s400/Photo+83.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209290205521313202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Untitled, watercolor 1979? by James Rich&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This painting is a watercolor Jim did many years ago, when we were first together. I remember when he painted it. It's a small watercolor on paper; about 18" by 18". He was going through his old portfolios last night and found it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told him it was an "interesting painting" and that it reminded me of an alien; some kind of alien painting. He said he had no idea what was going on when he painted that; what he was thinking or why he painted it. No recollection of the inspiration or what he was trying to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asked me what I meant by "alien painting" I said, well, it immediately, for some reason, just screamed alien and spaceship at me. I have the impression the ant is female, very large, "alien," and is holding something, some sort of tablet. Jim looked at it and said he saw what I meant. I reminded Jim of all the giant insect alien stories; usually praying mantis type creatures, or giant grasshopper type beings some speak about in connection with UFO encounters. After he looked at it he said it reminded him of a female being as well; probably because of the way it's sitting and the long robe or whatever it is it/she is wearing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was at that time that Jim and I were experiencing a lot of unusual UFO events, including an episode of missing time. I had my "Geisha Woman Alien" dream during that time frame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of alien insectoid beings, in a bit of synchronicity I was listening to George Noory last night on C2C. (By the way, say what you will about him, and I have, he is a goof ball in many ways, but he was defending the medical marijuana use law in California, so good for him) and he and a caller were sharing praying mantis stories. Not in the context of aliens or UFOs however, more mundane than that. And earlier today I read Richard Thomas Room 101 column on Binnall of America, where he writes about &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://binnallofamerica.com/rr6.8.html"&gt;Ghosts, Aliens, Yeti and the Late Great Nigel Kneale&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; British "father" of sci fi television and movies. Which inspired me to post something on my blog &lt;a href="http://paranormalbigfoot.blogspot.com"&gt;Frame 352: The Stranger Side of Sasquatch&lt;/a&gt; with this image:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SEshpFhPQMI/AAAAAAAABdE/ECwGu84ovkg/s1600-h/quatermass-pit-a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SEshpFhPQMI/AAAAAAAABdE/ECwGu84ovkg/s320/quatermass-pit-a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209294383724052674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm deathly, pathologically afraid of insects. I had some chilling experiences as a child -- I won't go there, far too personal and wrapped up in family dysfunction abuse  horrors -- but at the same time, I don't like to see people just stomp on insects for no reason. (There was also a weird event in Crescent City, California, involving a Japanese beetle, alcoholic abusers though not to me, hmm, a theme here I see, and I kid you not, a real life scene with "Deliverance" type redneck hillbillies, complete with shotguns and a truck full of pitbulls. But I digress.) (And there was another thing with a bumble bee when I was a kid, and my sister as well, I found out years later, that has to do with missing time and high strangeness.)I'll certainly go out of my way to kill bugs in the house, depending on what kind; wasps, etc. Others I take outside. Well, okay, I try to get Jim to take them outside, but the point is, I don't like killing things if I can help it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that all took a weird turn, I see. As disjointed as all this might seem, one thing stands out: a conflicting relationship with insects. I like some of them, they're pretty, many are harmless, etc. Others I am fearful of to the point of vomiting. People with encounters with giant insectiod alien beings report both terrifying experiences, as well as ones of learning, wisdom and beauty. Why this contrast? Are our mundane encounters a relfection, on a symbolic level, of these experiences?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-8282807051611174560?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/8282807051611174560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=8282807051611174560&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/8282807051611174560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/8282807051611174560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2009/04/alien-ant-watercolor.html' title='Alien Ant Watercolor'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SEsd14gE_bI/AAAAAAAABc8/NZNTodIdA_k/s72-c/Photo+83.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-6503484393514558249</id><published>2009-03-26T23:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T23:32:20.691-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='California'/><title type='text'>"Night Visitor" Painting of a Childhood Memory</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/ScxwEoROtGI/AAAAAAAADUU/2BZMrien56w/s1600-h/nitevisitor.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 324px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/ScxwEoROtGI/AAAAAAAADUU/2BZMrien56w/s400/nitevisitor.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317748484849185890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Night Visitor,&lt;/span&gt; Regan Lee 1990&lt;br /&gt;acrylic on Masonite  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a painting I did several years ago. At that time, I was trying to paint images of beings/visitors from my childhood. The ones I tried to do of the "aliens" that floated me out the door always ended up like stick figures, with inverted triangle/oval outlines for the face, but no features. I realized the other day I've made many paintings and drawings of figures, usually female forms, with these inverted triangle/oval faces, always featureless. I seem to place them alone in a room by a window revealing a night sky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The painting shown here is a little underexposed, but it's the only image I have right now; the painting is big and heavy (painted on a large thick piece of Masonite) and packed away somewhere. I just started painting it; I remember feeling compelled and it just all came out very quickly; this large "Night Visitor" and at the time, the full title was "Night Visitor on Sherbourne Street" (even though the name was actually Sherbourne Drive but I thought Street sounded better.) That was the house I lived in in Los Angeles between the ages of six to about fourteen, and the house where the fuzzy puppet wolves and beings that floated me out the door came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As to this being in the painting, I never saw anything like this, but I remember the feeling. . . it's as if the image came up from my subconscious in a very vivid and strong way and represents something that has a connection to all this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-6503484393514558249?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/6503484393514558249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=6503484393514558249&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/6503484393514558249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/6503484393514558249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2009/03/night-visitor-painting-of-childhood.html' title='&quot;Night Visitor&quot; Painting of a Childhood Memory'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/ScxwEoROtGI/AAAAAAAADUU/2BZMrien56w/s72-c/nitevisitor.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-7133150260186830520</id><published>2009-03-16T17:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T17:59:17.792-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cover or screen memories'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='UFO sightings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oregon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1980s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='missing time'/><title type='text'>Silver Spinning UFO</title><content type='html'>Category: UFO sighting, missing time, screen memory&lt;br /&gt;Location: Lorane Highway, outside of Eugene, Oregon&lt;br /&gt;Date: late 1980s&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/Sb7zmxQ_SnI/AAAAAAAADRE/IIIo4RK2Wjg/s1600-h/Photo+121.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/Sb7zmxQ_SnI/AAAAAAAADRE/IIIo4RK2Wjg/s320/Photo+121.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313952457728936562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a photo of the field where Jim and I saw a silver, spinning, hovering UFO. This photo was taken a few weeks ago; the sightings occured in the late 1980s, but, considering the changes in tree lines, etc. it's still pretty accurate. In fact, while we were standing there, discussing the sighting and taking pictures, we both got very anxious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The UFO was a dull silver color; it was very low and hovering, spinning or rotating in place. A white beam of light was coming down onto the field from the underside of the object. It was still light outside; late afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sighting has a lot of high strangeness; missing time, screen memories or cover memories -- for example, to this day we still disagree about what the events were before and after the sighting -- and so on. The only thing we are absolutely in agreement about is the fact we saw this thing, remember it and the location, and remember commenting how very weird it was. We remember driving by, slowing down, wondering if we should stop and get out and look, and wanting to, but at the same time, being very adamant we should do no such thing. We kept driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/Sb7zmtE-rxI/AAAAAAAADQ8/qpdl1rLKi28/s1600-h/Photo+123.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/Sb7zmtE-rxI/AAAAAAAADQ8/qpdl1rLKi28/s320/Photo+123.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313952456604823314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The photo below is a bit silly; it's a Christmas tree ornament, and shinier than the UFO we saw. Also, the UFO we saw was more of a flattened oval, not a sphere. But you get the idea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/Sb7zmDGhMtI/AAAAAAAADQ0/NiIru28h13g/s1600-h/Photo+99.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/Sb7zmDGhMtI/AAAAAAAADQ0/NiIru28h13g/s320/Photo+99.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313952445336990418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-7133150260186830520?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/7133150260186830520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=7133150260186830520&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/7133150260186830520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/7133150260186830520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2009/03/silver-spinning-ufo.html' title='Silver Spinning UFO'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/Sb7zmxQ_SnI/AAAAAAAADRE/IIIo4RK2Wjg/s72-c/Photo+121.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-8977604645176526682</id><published>2009-03-13T17:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T00:54:24.510-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1960s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='missing time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='astral realm'/><title type='text'>Multi-Layered Sleep Walking?</title><content type='html'>Category: dreams, astral plane, altered state, limbo, missing time&lt;br /&gt;Location: Los Angeles, California&lt;br /&gt;Date: 1965&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This incident happened when I was eleven. I woke up for school, got dressed, ate,never once realizing how weird it was no one else was up yet.  I go into my mother's bedroom, where she's still asleep. I woke her up to tell her it was time to go to school. She was both very irritated and surprised. She said to me "What are you talking about?! It's four o'clock in the morning!" I insisted it wasn't; I remember looking at the clock and seeing it as 8:30, but she had to tell me a few times the real time before a shift happened in my head, and then I saw that it was the real time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember this very clearly; getting up, getting dressed by the heater. We set out our uniforms the night before in front of the heater, to stay warm while we dressed. Our house was a two bedroom, one bath house, with at least five people living in it, sometimes more, depending. (other relatives, etc.) I remember getting dressed and going about everything very matter of factly, never once thinking how weird it was that no one else was up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sleepwalkers don't remember their excursions. I'm not sure this was sleepwalking, since I didn't have a sleepwalking problem, and I remember the whole thing quite clearly, awake the whole time. Yet looking at the clock and seeing "my" time not the real time, not at all concerned no one else was up, etc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-8977604645176526682?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/8977604645176526682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=8977604645176526682&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/8977604645176526682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/8977604645176526682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2009/03/multi-layered-sleep-walking.html' title='Multi-Layered Sleep Walking?'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-5209532379061706694</id><published>2009-02-09T09:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T09:50:10.048-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1960s'/><title type='text'>One Hell of a Heavy Dream About Aliens</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SZBsw8NCg8I/AAAAAAAADKQ/8L23_O1oYFQ/s1600-h/med_39743843e3c0fa310c637143c1e6f7a5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 204px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SZBsw8NCg8I/AAAAAAAADKQ/8L23_O1oYFQ/s320/med_39743843e3c0fa310c637143c1e6f7a5.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300856349465412546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Category: Dream&lt;br /&gt;Location: Eugene, Oregon&lt;br /&gt;Date: February 2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Last night I had a very intense and vivid dream; a lucid dream (waking up during the dream commenting that I had to be sure to write it down and tell it to others when I awoke) and I even woke up during the dream, went back to sleep, and continued the dream. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEHIND THE SHED&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm talking with my mother, who tells me she ran into the woman who lived next door to us when we were kids.(we lived in Los Angeles, time frame would be the early 1960s.) The woman "Mrs. Smith" told my mom she had reclaimed a patch of yard from behind our shed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, I didn't know what mom was talking about. My mother was insistent: "Remember, you and grandma would go back there and do stuff, plant things." No, I didn't remember. It wouldn't make sense for us to go back there and "plant things" since it was dark and overgrown, and not much room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(In real life, we did have a neighbor, we did have a long narrow shed that we rarely used or went in back of. There were some overgrown bushes completely covering a fence; a house in back of that, and Mrs. Smith's on one side, an alley or walkway on the other and the alley behind that.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a lot of pressing on my mother's part, I did remember. And I became unglued. For yes, I did remember: going back there with my grandmother all right. I remembered the abuse; the sexual abuse that went on back there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't believe it. I was devastated. In the dream, I was crying, all these memories just came flooding in. I was screaming at my mother: "All these years, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;all these years!&lt;/span&gt; And why now, at this late age? Why now, after so much time, do I finally remember this horrible past?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am just so ... angry, and sad. And yet somehow I'm not surprised. In the dream, I say that I have to tell others, and deal with this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;SPONTANEOUS DRAWINGS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days go by. My mom and I are in the house we grew up in (the one where, in "real life" she saw a UFO, and where I had &lt;a href="http://www.ufodigest.com/news/0109/puppet-wolves.html"&gt;my interactions with the "puppet wolves" &lt;/a&gt; and my &lt;a href="http://binnallofamerica.com/tr1.15.7.html"&gt;"invisible aliens.")&lt;/a&gt; I tell her I have something extremely important to tell her -- to show her. I am agitated. Scared. I have a sense of urgency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She asks me if it's about my grandmother, and what happened behind the shed. Yes, I say, but. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remembered, a sort of dream within the dream that, yes, my grandmother and I did go behind the shed, but it wasn't abuse. She did &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; abuse me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She and I had interactions with aliens. We'd go back there to meet with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I showed my mother drawings I made of what they looked like. Oddly enough, not of their faces -- it seems even in dreams I can't remember their faces -- but drawings of their hands, which were sort of claw like, semi-webbed hands, and their clothing, wide, red sleeves stopping just short of their wrists. I show her these drawings I've made, in colored pencil, that I've scanned into the computer. I'm scrolling through on the laptop, showing her drawing after drawing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am shocked that I remember this in such detail and it all comes back to me, after all these years, and in such a spontaneous way. I am not happy; this isn't a good thing and it's scary. I realize I have to tell people. In fact, in the dream I speak with one UFO researcher who tells me it's unusual to have "spontaneous recall" in such detail. He's surprised I remember this without being hypnotized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep saying to my mother things like: "This shit really happened! &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;It really happened!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;That's&lt;/span&gt; what was going on back there!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like this at all. Not at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, dreams are strange. Relating dreams are always tricky, for one thing, most people (at least in this culture) think they're boring, unless they're your own. And it's impossible to convey the emotional strength, the intensity of a dream. In this dream, the emotions were just overwhelming, along with the fear.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-5209532379061706694?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/5209532379061706694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=5209532379061706694&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/5209532379061706694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/5209532379061706694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2009/02/one-hell-of-heavy-dream-about-aliens.html' title='One Hell of a Heavy Dream About Aliens'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SZBsw8NCg8I/AAAAAAAADKQ/8L23_O1oYFQ/s72-c/med_39743843e3c0fa310c637143c1e6f7a5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-5524993493942197417</id><published>2009-01-24T18:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T10:08:56.407-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='California'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1950s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shared experience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1960s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='visitations'/><title type='text'>The Synchronicity of Fuzzy Puppet Wolves</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SXvJHDsQbFI/AAAAAAAADGQ/XBS8aZCujeM/s1600-h/wolf-by-den.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 163px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SXvJHDsQbFI/AAAAAAAADGQ/XBS8aZCujeM/s200/wolf-by-den.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295046909991349330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Category: Dreams, shared experiences, entities&lt;br /&gt;Location: Los Angeles, California&lt;br /&gt;Date: 1950s - 1960s&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;This was originally published on Tim Binnall's Binnall of America website for my Trickster's Realm column, July, 2007.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The Synchronicity of Fuzzy Puppet Wolves&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a child, I’d intentionally wait for “them.” “They” didn’t come until I was ready; until I had gone through all the little steps. Going through the little steps, the delicious wait, and then the floating through the bedroom door, the hall door, the front door and outside and up into the starry sky, was a happy time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to be in bed, flat on my back. Concentrate on the warm yellow light shining under the bedroom door. Then “they” came, several of them, oh, at least four, and somewhere I was levitated, floating through the doors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t remember what they looked like, or if I ever knew. I do “know” they were small, about my size. Skinny too, not human, like us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime around age thirteen or so these episodes became less frequent. As I wrote recently on my blog, it was rare when I could intentionally cause these episodes, and when they happened spontaneously, they became scary. I’d often shut down before I could leave my body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another event that happened frequently was the “puppet wolves,” visitations, as I called them. These events were connected somehow with the above, but also different. They weren’t the same creatures, for example. It wasn’t quite as pleasant either. And I remember some events happening during the day; still in bed, but daytime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fuzzy puppet wolves were very small, not more than about twenty-four inches tall. They were fuzzy/furry, gray, and reminded me of puppets. They weren’t exactly malevolent, but they were quick to be extremely mischievous, pushy, and just not as “nice” as the others. I could see these guys, and remember to this day what they looked like. The other guys, I don’t remember at all, except that they were small. The puppet wolves would gather around my bed, several of them, and they were insistent. They didn’t take no for an answer, and I’d have to go with them. I don’t remember anything other than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not long ago, my husband “Joe” and I were talking about our childhood “weird” experiences; memories of the paranormal, or whatever word you want to use. Before I said anything, he began to tell me of something that happened to him sometimes when he was a kid. While he was in bed, furry gray “things” would gather around the edges of the bed, and tug at him, taking him away. (Neither of us remember where we went.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked him if they reminded him in a way, of wolves; he said yes. Small nasty little wolf puppet, or stuffed animal-toy beings. He had never heard my story before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another synchronicity between us. When faced with all these parallel experiences, going back deep into childhood, I find that I can't ignore things like karma, or metaphysical connections, or reincarnation, or. . . something. I’m not sure what it means, but to say it doesn’t mean anything is supremely incorrect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;The Wolf as Totem&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I refer to these nasty little beings as “wolves” yet they didn’t hold the wolf spirit. In fact, the wolf is my totem, and the Wolf Clan is one of the clans of the Lenepe, my grandfather’s tribe. (So I’m told.) I’ve had amazing dreams of wolves; often in connection with white wolves and teachers. I call upon Wolf often and he is my friend and guide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at the time, a child unfamiliar with the gift of Wolf and all its meanings, I tended to think of these persistent unpleasant creatures as wolves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Puppet Symbolism and Invisibility&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s interesting that I thought of these beings as puppets; that is, puppets without any people operating them. They were just empty moving “skins.” They were footless, too, no legs. A screen memory, a false impression to cover whatever was “really” there? Puppet implies that something else is behind it; that the puppet isn’t doing the thing, the person operating the puppet is in control. Whatever was behind the wolf puppets was not revealed. Or, remembered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Invisible Aliens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In looking back over a lot of what I’ve written about aliens and odd experiences, I realize I use the term “invisible alien” a lot. I don’t recall what they looked like, these beings that came to float me out doors at night. I don’t remember parts of UFO sightings I've had; missing time. Whether these are connected or not I don’t know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are many layers to these kind of experiences, and I suspect symbols replace symbols that replace yet other symbols, all to make us more comfortable, to protect us, -- or us to protect ourselves -- as we try to exist in the mundane world. Our journeys into the astral/other worlds remain submerged in our subconscious. It’s been so for a very long time, as has our need to go down and retrieve these memories. Retrieve the correct memories. With each “dive” into our subconscious, we move closer to some kind of understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(for example, I wrote that I had to concentrate on the yellow light underneath the bedroom door. I told my mother about these experiences, and she insisted that there was never a light on in the hall after we went to bed. I asked her, then, what light was it that I was seeing? she had no idea.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was my memory of the light a true one of the hall light, and it is my mother that is incorrect? Or is my mother right, and my memory of the hall light a cover memory for a very different kind of light, from a very different source?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if I’ll ever know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-5524993493942197417?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/5524993493942197417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=5524993493942197417&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/5524993493942197417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/5524993493942197417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2009/01/synchronicity-of-fuzzy-puppet-wolves.html' title='The Synchronicity of Fuzzy Puppet Wolves'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SXvJHDsQbFI/AAAAAAAADGQ/XBS8aZCujeM/s72-c/wolf-by-den.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-6688471631208389346</id><published>2009-01-24T15:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T09:53:45.933-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oregon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1980s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='missing time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='animals'/><title type='text'>Eerie Raccoon Moments</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SXuiuW0fNkI/AAAAAAAADGI/aFP2cy3HJdg/s1600-h/Raccoon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SXuiuW0fNkI/AAAAAAAADGI/aFP2cy3HJdg/s200/Raccoon.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295004704187561538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Category: Animals, screen memories, cover memories&lt;br /&gt;Location: Eugene, Oregon&lt;br /&gt;Date: 1980s&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://orangeorb.blogspot.com/2009/01/eerie-racoon-moments.html"&gt; Is there anything to this memory of raccoons looking into our house, right at us, during the day?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-6688471631208389346?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/6688471631208389346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=6688471631208389346&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/6688471631208389346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/6688471631208389346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2009/01/eerie-raccoon-moments.html' title='Eerie Raccoon Moments'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SXuiuW0fNkI/AAAAAAAADGI/aFP2cy3HJdg/s72-c/Raccoon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-8087147364968066458</id><published>2009-01-03T15:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T10:10:23.640-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1970s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oregon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='visitations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='astral realm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mediumship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='animals'/><title type='text'>Green Warty Visitations</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SV_7fDucSlI/AAAAAAAADDc/criRefpZMp4/s1600-h/Brian_Froud_03_Mai_Tee_Pong_cyb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SV_7fDucSlI/AAAAAAAADDc/criRefpZMp4/s320/Brian_Froud_03_Mai_Tee_Pong_cyb.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287220998550866514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(illustration by Brian Froud)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;This was originally published on &lt;a href="http://www.binnallofamerica.com/"&gt;Binnall of America's website &lt;/a&gt;on my bi-weekly &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Trickster's Realm &lt;/span&gt;column, 12/26/05.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color=green&gt;GREEN WARTY THINGS&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Category: Visitation, entities&lt;br /&gt;Location: Eugene, Oregon, Lincoln St.&lt;br /&gt;Date: 1980s&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s something that happened to me a few years ago. I was in a friend's home; he was gone, I was visiting my friend who was house sitting. The owner traveled to Mexico frequently on business; he owned a store here in Oregon, and brought back folk art, books, and ceramics to sell in his store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was wandering around the home, looking at his extensive book collection, I noticed a large cape hanging on the wall. It wasn’t made of any type of cloth, but seemed waxy and stiff, with little “horns” or very large thorns, protruding from it. The cape was a lime green color. I touched it, rubbing my fingers on the smooth surface, careful of course to avoid those white yellowish stud things. I appreciated the cape for its history (whatever that may be, since I didn’t have a clue) and was drawn to it for some reason, and yet I felt uncomfortable around it at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly felt extremely tired. It was the middle of the afternoon, a beautiful day, but I had to get home -- I was just so suddenly exhausted. As soon as I got home I went straight to bed. I began to leave my body; one of those OBE states that happen to me spontaneously and that I haven’t been able to control since I was a child. I wasn’t asleep, but not awake exactly, yet I was consciousness of the bedroom, the open window, the sun coming through the screen and other mundane things. Yet I was paralyzed and rapidly leaving my body. I heard whistles and flutes; from a distance and then getting closer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next thing I knew I was in a deep sleep, and I remember visions of chanting and signing, the flutes and whistles again, the cape draped around someone, a man. I couldn’t see his face. We were somewhere; the desert, or some rural country area. It was night and the stars were numerous and very close to the ground; I could touch them if I just reached out far enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I woke up, it was dark, and I felt as if I’d been poisoned. Not actually physically sick -- if I thought I was ill or going to die, of course I’d call 911, lol -- but I mean, I felt as if someone had given me some kind of sleeping pill or something. It took me a very long time to get back to reality. I felt sluggish and my tongue felt thick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of days later I found out that this cape from Mexico had belonged to a Shaman and was used in special ceremonies. I hadn’t mentioned this to my friend; it was the other way around. He told me that he was told that the cape was used for magical purposes that involved whistles and dancing, and was performed out in the desert, away from towns and especially the Church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE GREEN WARTY MAN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several years ago I was sitting on the bed, reading. My husband was in the other room. I had what I call a “mind post card,” -- it’s an experience that happens every so often, where the picture, absolutely vivid 3-D, is “inserted” into my mind with a sharp suddenness. It’s as if someone had literally slid a postcard, or a slide, of an image (a moving image) into my head. I don’t know where it comes from, or why it happens. Usually it’s a telepathic thing: a preview of something that occurs later that day, or within a day or two. This time however, it wasn’t a prediction of something; it was a “visit.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This “mind post card” was of a dirty lime-green being, with warts, or bony stubby nubs, all over his body. He had two little stubs or buttons; not horns or antlers, but the suggestion of such. I just “knew” that this being was male. It wasn’t human, but it wasn’t animal. It was maybe closer to human than not, but definitely not human. He was sitting in profile to me, squatting down actually. We were out in the desert -- or, he was. At this point it doesn’t matter; it was as if I was transported, or his whole world superimposed itself onto mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He “saw” me and turned his head to look at me. He slowly grinned at me, but this was no happy smiley expression! He was a nasty piece of work! It was clear he knew exactly how I was feeling, and thought it very funny, in a sadistic way. He was also a little irritated I was there -- or, he was here -- that we were in each other’s worlds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so damn startled that I screamed. With that scream he popped out. And again he seemed irritated, it as if he wanted me to stick around so he could toy with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To this day I remember that, and it is very chilling. I don’t associate any UFO experience or connection with this (although, with all the high strangeness that often accompanies UFOs who knows) and I wouldn’t say it was alien. Not alien from another planet; not even alien from this earth. In fact, I had the sense it very much belonged here, of the earth, as much as, if not more than, humans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOTE: Standard Weird Experience This Really Happened Disclaimer: “This was no dream, no drug induced or alcohol related experience, and I’m not mentally ill.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The being in the desert 'slide show presentation' took place years before the Shamanic Cape experience. Both experiences involve the desert, plants, green warty things. A connection to be sure. A connection of what, well, that’s something else!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-8087147364968066458?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/8087147364968066458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=8087147364968066458&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/8087147364968066458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/8087147364968066458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2009/01/green-warty-visitations.html' title='Green Warty Visitations'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SV_7fDucSlI/AAAAAAAADDc/criRefpZMp4/s72-c/Brian_Froud_03_Mai_Tee_Pong_cyb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-3022110272898866774</id><published>2009-01-01T19:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T10:11:34.472-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='California'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1960s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='craft'/><title type='text'>"Don't Worry, They'll Be Back . . ."</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SV2PgXG_A7I/AAAAAAAADC8/QhpcTlsEVe4/s1600-h/ufo60s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SV2PgXG_A7I/AAAAAAAADC8/QhpcTlsEVe4/s320/ufo60s.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286539323724727218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Category:UFO Sighting&lt;br /&gt;Location:Los Angeles, California, Sherbourne Dr.&lt;br /&gt;Date: approximately 1964&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother liked to sit out on the front porch after the dinner dishes were done, and just have a few minutes to herself. When she did that, we knew not to go out there or bug her. One evening she calls out to us, excitedly, to come out and look at the "flying saucer." I remember everyone just teasing her, "Sure, mom," and they wouldn't even go out, but I did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom was pointing to the sky, to the two story apartment building kitty corner from us. "It was right there! RIGHT there!" she said, and described it. Round, colored lights, hovering, then just disappeared. She was very disappointed, and worried she wouldn't be believed. She insisted it wasn't a plane, getting impatient with the idea she wouldn't know what a plane or helicopter looked like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her: &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Don't worry mom, they'll be back."&lt;/span&gt; I remember this incident very well, and remember saying that to her. What I don't remember saying, and my mother to this day insists I did say, was "&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;They always come back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-3022110272898866774?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/3022110272898866774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=3022110272898866774&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/3022110272898866774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/3022110272898866774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2009/01/dont-worry-theyll-be-back.html' title='&quot;Don&apos;t Worry, They&apos;ll Be Back . . .&quot;'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SV2PgXG_A7I/AAAAAAAADC8/QhpcTlsEVe4/s72-c/ufo60s.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-8893119778380604476</id><published>2008-12-31T00:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T11:54:27.858-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='California'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='1950s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bright lights'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='craft'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='astral realm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='animals'/><title type='text'>The Open Ceiling and the Eagle</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SVsrudelqXI/AAAAAAAADBs/OZWvlUadx3M/s1600-h/288969339_deeee6d0e5.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285866664836311410" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SVsrudelqXI/AAAAAAAADBs/OZWvlUadx3M/s320/288969339_deeee6d0e5.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 201px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Category:Childhood Memory, dreams, animals&lt;br /&gt;Location: Los Angeles, California&lt;br /&gt;Date: approximately 1958&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Open Ceiling and the Eagle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There was a silver suited alien on the patio at this house on Corning Street,  . . but before that:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before that, . . . I’m lying on my back in bed. I remember this as vividly as if it happened this morning; I also remember this as a “dream” but it was so damn real, I told myself afterwards it was a dream, because it doesn’t make sense that it could be real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m in bed, in the middle of the bed, which is huge, though in "reality" my childhood bed wasn't huge.  Flat on my back. I’m both excited -- &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;exhilarated&lt;/span&gt; -- but also a bit scared, not understanding what’s going on. There’s some confusion; my father is here, and I don’t understand why. He  doesn’t live with us and he wouldn’t be here at night. There’s a lot of activity, but I’m in the middle of my bed, which is huge,I'm kind of spread eagled, I can’t move. I have a sense of being tied up, but I don't see anything that's tying me, but something is preventing me from moving.I feel both fantastic and a little disoriented. Lots of bright, bright lights; everything is lit up so white. I look up at the ceiling, and it opens up, opening from the center, two halves moving back to expose the nighttime sky, which is beautiful, full of inky blue and shimmering stars. I think this is a pretty neat trick. A giant eagle flies down from above; the eagle is so large, it fills the sky, fills the open ceiling. It comes down straight at me. I don’t like this too much. I’m not exactly frightened, but it’s not comfortable. The eagle takes me up into a silver disk type thing. That's all I remember...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-8893119778380604476?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/8893119778380604476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=8893119778380604476&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/8893119778380604476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/8893119778380604476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2008/12/open-ceiling-and-eagle.html' title='The Open Ceiling and the Eagle'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SVsrudelqXI/AAAAAAAADBs/OZWvlUadx3M/s72-c/288969339_deeee6d0e5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-8904820854223732382</id><published>2008-12-29T22:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T10:14:17.716-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='California'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='apathy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='missing time'/><title type='text'>Missing Time: Los Angeles, California</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SVnJ4h7J7dI/AAAAAAAADBc/r1u3bhRdYk8/s1600-h/Barneys_Beanery.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SVnJ4h7J7dI/AAAAAAAADBc/r1u3bhRdYk8/s320/Barneys_Beanery.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285477610712329682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Category:Missing Time&lt;br /&gt;Location:Los Angeles/West Hollywood, California&lt;br /&gt;Date: Winter of 1977&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband to be and I were walking home from Barney's Beanery in West Hollywood. We went up there a couple nights a week. It wasn't too far from his apartment that he shared with his mother and brother at the time. We almost always walked. Taking long walks at any time throughout the city was a normal, usual thing for us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually the walk took us anywhere from thirty to forty-five minutes. One night,it took longer than usual. We had left Barney's as usual, (and yes, we had a couple of beers. We weren't drunk by means or in any beyond our senses.) We left Barney's that night at 2:00 a.m., and arrived home at 4:00 a.m! I remember very clearly walking into the apartment, seeing what time it was, and being very shocked, yet strangely apathetic at the same time. Both my husband and I commented at how very weird it was it was suddenly 4 a.m. We agreed it was extremely odd, and yet, we were also very calm and matter of fact. Instead of talking about it, as would be expected (especially for us) we calmly went off to bed. We &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;noticed &lt;/span&gt;that over an hour and a half were unaccounted for, but we didn't seem to &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;care&lt;/span&gt; about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We woke up the next day. We both woke up at the same moment, very bright, alert, and full of energy. (very unusual for me!) We commented that we slept great. When we walked into the living room, his mother said to us "I didn't think you two were here, it's been so quiet in there!" And then: "You've been in there the whole time? It's about time you woke up!" I remember thinking that was a strange thing to say; we usually got up around ten a.m. or so. Except, we quickly found out, it wasn't ten a.m., it was four o'clock in the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both of us had calmly gone straight to bed after remarking calmly on the oddness of the late hour -- we'd never arrived home at four in the morning! -- and slept like rocks. I remember thinking that it was unusual I never once got up to use the bathroom or get a drink of water.  And waking up so late, without that "slept too late" kind of feeling you get, in fact, full of energy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was after this that I started having my UFO dreams. Lots of dreams about UFOs, and being inside ships. More on those later. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband and I have discussed this many times. Just now, as I was writing this, he said to  me that there's a "Spot in his mind" that he knows something happened on our walk home that night but he can't get to it. He said he remembers "Garages, garages lit,  that go underneath (the apartment buildings) on a side street," and "Something specific happened" but what that specific thing was, he doesn't remember. Either do I, and yet, when he said "garages that go underneath on a side street" I got chills, as if some memory of mine was beginning to awaken.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-8904820854223732382?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/8904820854223732382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=8904820854223732382&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/8904820854223732382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/8904820854223732382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2008/12/missing-time-los-angeles-california.html' title='Missing Time: Los Angeles, California'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SVnJ4h7J7dI/AAAAAAAADBc/r1u3bhRdYk8/s72-c/Barneys_Beanery.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-7544937695033536557</id><published>2008-12-29T22:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T10:16:20.127-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='California'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oregon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='astral realm'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meditation'/><title type='text'>Astral Realm Files: A UFO Memory?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SVm82pf9JlI/AAAAAAAADBU/a0HzqGCsMMc/s1600-h/night_2_bg_050602.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SVm82pf9JlI/AAAAAAAADBU/a0HzqGCsMMc/s320/night_2_bg_050602.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285463284734830162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Category: Meditation, dreams, recovered memory, paintings&lt;br /&gt;Location:Santa Cruz, California and Eugene,Oregon&lt;br /&gt;Date: approximately 1972 and 1998&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was meditating in my bedroom in Oregon. Not a deep state, pretty light, but definitely in that highly relaxed, open mode. For some reason, I kept looking up at the painting that was resting on top of the armoire. It was a painting I had done a few years earlier; an impressionistic landscape, all blues and a bit of green, with a hint of silver/white. A night time scene. It reminded me of the mountains and places around Santa Cruz, California, where I lived for a awhile as a teenager, with my dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm looking at the painting, and feeling good; remembering, in particular, the time my dad, his ex-wife, my brother and sister from that marriage, all went camping by a river in the Santa Cruz mountains. It was great. We were all happy, and I remember we were all standing right by the water's edge for some reason, at night. It was very bright, and very cold, but it didn't seem to matter. I remembered that it literally seemed as if the rushing, cold water was singing. In fact, I had mentioned that, and my father had said something about how water carries sound. Yet no one else heard it. &lt;br /&gt;I remember looking up at the fantastic night sky, and all the stars; it was exhilarating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was all a true memory. So there I am, on my bed many years later, reliving this wonderful moment that really happened. (I was practicing at the time with various types and levels of meditation; this one was on focusing on a memory, details, emotions, as real and alive as right now.) I was going into myself and occasionally looking at the painting. Back and forth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, as I'm back there at the river's edge, with my father and the others, and see myself looking up at the sky, the memory becomes even more real. I really am right there, and I'm intently watching a star that has my attention. I'm both me, now, and me, back then. Me, as an adult woman, and me, as a teenager. I'm in two places at once. I think to myself "I don't remember any star," and keep watching. Suddenly, the star moves! It just zips off, moves around, very fast, very bright. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This scares me. I say to myself in a panic "I don't remember anything like that!" And I'm struggling to get out of there. Then I hear a voice: it tells me I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;do &lt;/span&gt;remember that, that I know I remember that, and to go with it, not to lose it. But I can't; I get too scared and so snap myself out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;(image source:&lt;a href="http://www.pdphoto.org/PictureDetail.php?mat=pdef&amp;pg=6249"&gt; Picture Detail (public domain image) &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-7544937695033536557?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/7544937695033536557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=7544937695033536557&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/7544937695033536557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/7544937695033536557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2008/12/astral-realm-files-ufo-memory.html' title='Astral Realm Files: A UFO Memory?'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SVm82pf9JlI/AAAAAAAADBU/a0HzqGCsMMc/s72-c/night_2_bg_050602.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-6896143752905916739</id><published>2008-12-29T20:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T23:52:30.832-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Residue Haunting: Ghosts Through Dreams</title><content type='html'>Picking Up Ghosts Through Dreams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Residue Haunting&lt;br /&gt;Boulder Creek, California &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a teenager, and off and on in my later teens/early twenties, I lived with my father, who lived in a small house in Boulder Creek, California. It was a small house, with only one bedroom; when I stayed there I slept in the bedroom, and my father slept in the living room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hated sleeping in the bedroom, for I’d have terrible dreams. I had them in the living room too, but they didn’t seem quite as strong. The dreams were always the same. I’d be in darkness, just wondering around, kind of lost. And I’d hear lots of chanting, like monks. There was a heavy, oppressive feeling that was very strong. Overall there was a religious feeling that was uncomfortable; I remember hearing, in the dream state, calls to Jesus to come and save and protect us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I’d smell incense, overpowering, and wake up choking and coughing, the smell of incense still with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mentioned it to my father, who told me a priest from the Catholic Church down the road had lived in the house for many years, and had died in the bedroom. There were some hints about suicide and illness, but I don’t know the details.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-6896143752905916739?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/6896143752905916739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=6896143752905916739&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/6896143752905916739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/6896143752905916739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2008/12/residue-haunting-ghosts-through-dreams.html' title='Residue Haunting: Ghosts Through Dreams'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8541050984918653540.post-799616341627246388</id><published>2008-12-29T20:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T10:17:51.266-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='apathy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='triangles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Oregon'/><title type='text'>Dexter, Oregon: Triangle Sighting</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SVmlr9H4yiI/AAAAAAAADA8/QWVUcvX1vEE/s1600-h/IllinoisSighting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 147px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SVmlr9H4yiI/AAAAAAAADA8/QWVUcvX1vEE/s320/IllinoisSighting.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285437812256590370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Category: UFO Sighting (Triangle)&lt;br /&gt;Location:Dexter,Oregon &lt;br /&gt;Date: August 1997&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Triangle Sighting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was still light but getting on dark, out in a rural area on three acres of land,  lots of people outside at a party/gathering. A few of us were standing around talking. I look up, again, since I’m constantly sky watching no matter where I am, and out there, it’s a pretty good chance something unusual will be seen, based on  past experience, and, the stories of people who live out here. This time when I looked up, I knew something wasn’t right but it took a few seconds to realize why. Then I realized, a whole hunk of sky had no stars! Instead there was a huge -- I mean &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;HUGE &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;-- triangle, right above us. Just “sitting” there. It was very eerie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While it’s typical to report black triangles, this wasn’t black at all. It was almost the exact shade of surrounding sky, just a bit off. Like someone cut out a piece of construction paper in the shape of a triangle to match the sky, except they were just a shade off, and stuck it up there. A really &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;fantastically huge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; triangle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pointed this out to everyone in the little group;  all looked up. We agreed it was very weird. We also agreed it was very weird we weren’t running around, shouting “Hey! Look at this!” which seems the logical thing to do. Instead, we just stood there, watching this thing. We made a few weak jokes about missing time and checked our watches, we were aware of ourselves and the situation, even while also noticing we weren’t doing anything about it. Just stood there.  There was no sound, absolutely  none, coming from the craft. The triangle, as I said, was not black. There were no lights anywhere; not in the center, or the three points, or anywhere. We noticed, aside from the mild apathy and inability to move, our hearing was affected slightly. We could hear, but everything seemed distant; like cotton balls had been stuffed in our ears. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, without warning, just very abruptly, the triangle just took off. In a blink of an eye; just one quick, smooth, sudden movement -- gone! Vanished. Just “slid” off in an instant. No sound. No lights. Just, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;gone. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as it was gone, we felt our usual selves again. We excitedly told others of what we’d seen; pretty much everyone there believed us, or at least thought it was interesting. The people who lived there were almost jaded; they had seen so many unusual things in the skies above their property over the years they took our sighting in stride. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;STRANGE REACTIONS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, two interesting incidents happened regarding human responses to UFO sightings. One happened at the party that night. There was one obnoxious person that heard my story; he became extremely rude; laughing at me and making all kinds of unkind comments. I asked him if he thought I was lying; he was a bit taken aback at my aggressive attitude towards his nastiness. So he decides to question my mental health; that’s always a smooth move, or insist that I’d been drinking and taking drugs. Since I was the designated driver, I hadn’t been drinking or doing anything else that would have affected my driving. So he was left with dealing with the fact a group of people just saw something very strange right above his head; and then he got downright pissed and walked away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year later, same place. Same group (sans one) of witnesses, same spot. I mentioned the triangle we saw the year before. I get blank looks. They don’t know what I’m talking about. I have to remind them; go through the whole thing. Describe the triangle, the jokes about missing time, the strange apathy we felt, the converstaiton we had: “Shoudln’t we run and get the others.?” “Yeah, good idea,”  “Let’s call them over here,” but, no one did. We couldn’t. After all that, a couple of them remembered, sort of. “Oh yeah, that &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;was&lt;/span&gt; we rid, huh?” and a couple of the witnesses didn’t remember a thing. Me, I still can’t stop thinking about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8541050984918653540-799616341627246388?l=saucersightings.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/feeds/799616341627246388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8541050984918653540&amp;postID=799616341627246388&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/799616341627246388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8541050984918653540/posts/default/799616341627246388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://saucersightings.blogspot.com/2008/12/dexter-oregon-triangle-sighting.html' title='Dexter, Oregon: Triangle Sighting'/><author><name>Regan Lee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13786586311631698822</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sC7j5xuM_88/Tr13HMHy0hI/AAAAAAAAGSs/KvEZVzVvsSo/s220/reganLee%2BDennisRanomug.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_hpUQ1xS8dfU/SVmlr9H4yiI/AAAAAAAADA8/QWVUcvX1vEE/s72-c/IllinoisSighting.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
