Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was in a hospital hallway. I may have just come from an operating room where my mom was in surgery. While I was out in the hallway my Aunt M, who was also in the hallway, received a phone call regarding my brother.
My brother may have come to the hospital with my mother to be with her during surgery. But now my brother had gotten ill. The doctors had taken him and put him into surgery as well. He was in a very bad condition. It was possible that he could die.
My aunt and I walked back into the operating room, where my mom was in surgery, wondering how we would tell my mom, when she woke, about my brother. There were a lot of other family members in the operating room.
My mom was laying on the operating table, unconscious, with an operating sheet over her body, and probably with an opening cut into her body somewhere. But I'm not sure that there were any doctors operating on my mom, or even in the operating room.
Dream #2
I was laying in bed at night. I had a cell phone, maybe an old BlackBerry, pressed to my ear. I was eavesdropping on a conversation between my step grandmother and my aunt M. I don't think I knew how I had managed to get in on their conversation. It surprised me that I could hear them. But now that I could hear them I decided I wanted to keep listening to their conversation, to see what they'd say about me or my mom while they didn't know I was around.
My grandma and my aunt spoke about someone in my immediately family for a moment or two, but only said something kind of vague. They then began speaking about an idea my grandma had to start a restaurant. My grandma said that she was really feeling the urge again to do the restaurant. But she needed the commitment from my aunt, that my aunt would commit to working at the restaurant. In the past my aunt had committed to working, but then had gone back on her commitment.
I rolled over onto my right side. My aunt was now standing over me, still talking on the phone with my grandma. My aunt had come to wake me up so we could go take care of something. I didn't want her to see me on the phone, eavesdropping on her conversation.
I sat up in bed. I was now in a bed in a hospital room. My mom sat in a chair on the right side of the room, near a window that had Venetian blinds. My aunt was in the room, but she left immediately, needing to go take care of something. When my aunt left, she left the door wide open.
I was some kind of worker in the hospital, not necessarily a doctor, maybe something more like an administrator. But people thought I was really smart, and I thought I was really smart, too.
Someone may have mentioned that there were one or two celebrities in the hallway. I didn't want to stand up and look for them. They didn't sound like celebrities I was interested. So I didn't feel like making the effort.
Then I heard a bunch of little kids screaming with delight. Somehow the news got to my room that Snoop Dogg was walking through the hallway. There were a bunch of elementary school kids out in the hallway -- like this hospital also had a wing that was an elementary school, or like the kids were on a field trip to the hospital. They had seen Snoop Dogg in the hallway. He was just trying to be low key. But the kids had seen him and gone crazy. Now they were all surrounding him.
I stood out of my bed to look through the windows and see what was going on. I thought I'd even go out and see Snoop Dogg for myself. I thought he was pretty cool. But I was only wearing my black boxer-brief underwear. I couldn't go out like this. But, for some reason, I also felt like it would be impossible, or at least a really big effort, for me to get dressed.
There was a computer on a desk before the Venetian blinds. I clacked around on the keyboard for a moment, apparently working with some data that somebody needed regarding whatever my job at the hospital was. I then looked out the window. Across some kind of empty space was another window, which looked into the hallway with the schoolkids and Snoop Dogg.
Snoop had been kneeling among this gaggle of white, pale-blonde children. He now stood up. He was tall, but not as tall as I'd expected him to be. He also looked a bit pale. His complexion was flat and a little pasty. He also looked a little bit like a teenager, with kind of naive eyes. His hair was undone, all puffy, puffing out from the back of his head. Snoop wore an old, worn-out windbreaker jacket that was blue on the torso and black on the sleeves, with swatches of white, maybe near the pecs and shoulder blades.
Showing posts with label cell phone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cell phone. Show all posts
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Thursday, September 27, 2012
time travel to the water park; gigantic coca-cola glasses; jules-port verne
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was at a water slide amusement park with my mother. We received a phone call from my sister. My sister said she was ready to come to the water park as well. So we left the park and went to meet with my sister.
I was in a house at night. The house had a lot of long hallways. We were now going to head to the water park. But our grandfather was sitting either in the living room, which may have been pitch black, or in some other pitch black room. My sister said we had to avoid my grandpa. He was assuming my sister was staying at home. He'd get really mad if he found out my sister was going to the water park.
We walked outside. It was dark, but a lot of snow was falling, and with the orange streetlamps and falling snow, the sky and air looked purple. I was walking out to the car. There were actually three or four cars in the driveway. My grandpa was standing out by the cars. Somehow my sister had managed to avoid my grandpa's view.
We were now driving through the snow. It was maybe late afternoon, and the sky was a dim grey. I told my sister I didn't know if we'd be able to go back to the water park today. It didn't make sense to me that the park would be open if it was snowing like this. But my sister said it didn't matter and that we would be fine.
I didn't believe my sister. But as we continued driving, all the snow disappeared. It was still cloudy outside, but I could tell that it had become a lot warmer. But something else had changed: it was like we had traveled back in time twenty years, to the early 1990s.
I got excited about this and told my sister, "What the heck? We crossed a street, and now we're back in the 1990s!" My sister didn't quite see how I could tell this had happened. I pointed out how all the cars looked a lot different from the cars of 2012. We were in my sister's van. I told my sister, "Everybody must be looking at our car and saying to themselves, 'Wow, that's some kind of Prius.'"
We drove up a road past the water park and toward a Sea World aquarium. The parking lot for the water park was closer to the Sea World than to the water park. My sister was worried that we weren't going to find a good parking space.
As my sister expressed her worries, I saw Shamu, the killer whale mascot of Sea World, jump upward at least 10 meters. I was really excited and I pointed out the sight to my sister. Then another killer whale jumped around in its tank, though not much above the level of the water. I also looked up into the air to see some person atop a pole like a mast on a sailing ship.
Regarding my sister's worries that we wouldn't find a parking space, I said that, at this time of day, toward 3 PM, a lot of people were already getting ready to leave the water park. Plus the weather wasn't so great (it seemed to be getting cold again). So a lot of people were probably leaving on that account, too.
We had parked, and we were now walking toward the water park. We were walking along a sidewalk that seemed to be going along a botanical gardens rather than a water park. As we walked, my mom called us up. She may have been trying to figure out where we were, as if she were coming in her own vehicle to meet us.
It now seemed like my sister and I were walking with a whole lot of baggage and garbage, like we were walking, but we were still inside a vehicle, but the vehicle was just crammed with garbage. We also seemed to have a bunch of stuff like folding chairs with us.
Now my mom was with me and my sister. For some reason my mom had taken my phone and was looking at all my photos. She had found some video I'd accidentally taken on the phone while my sister and I had been walking toward the water park.
In the video, my sister and I were talking about my mom, mainly about the logistics for meeting her. There was nothing offensive about the things we were saying, but my mom still took offense. I got mad at my mom and asked for my phone back. This seemed to offend my mom as well. I was getting really frustrated.
Dream #2
Some party had just ended. I was walking back and forth between a living room and a kitchen. Neither the kitchen nor the living room seemed quite normal -- like they were really big, but unfinished. They almost had the feeling of a convention center.
My mom was in the kitchen, talking with one of her best friends. She was talking about some way in which she'd been competitive with me and won. It made me feel a little bit defeated. I thought to myself that when it came to my relationship with my mom, there was really just no way I could win. There was some girl I was interested in romantically. But I felt that because I could never win against my mother, it would be no use starting up a relationship with the girl I liked.
I had walked back out into the living room. But now I was coming back into the kitchen. The refrigerator door was open. I was thinking about grabbing some food for a meal, maybe dinner. But now the kitchen was outdoors, out on a street like a street in a downtown area. Just down the street from us, a parade was finishing up. The parade was probably in celebration of the same event for which the party had been celebrated.
One float in the parade, maybe the final float, was two gigantic glasses of Coca-Cola. The glasses were maybe 5 meters tall, and full of real Coke and huge ice cubes. I had been thirsty and I'd been trying to decide what I'd like to drink. Now I thought I might like a Coke -- but not from the huge glasses, of course!, I told myself. I went to the refrigerator and found a couple of cans of Coke. I grabbed a can.
Dream #3
I was out in a vacant lot in some downtown area. There were two women and a man out in the vacant lot with me. The women and man were young professionals. We all headed toward a fence at the front of the vacant lot and then over to the right, where the fence opened to let us out.
All this time, I was looking at a thin paperback novel. The novel had pulpy cover art. The cover art and yellowed pages, with a turquoise edging, made the paperback look like it was from the 1950s or 1960s. The novel was something like -- though possibly not exactly -- Jules Verne's Around the World in Eighty Days.
I got the idea that this story was about a scientist who had been funded for taking a trip around the world. During his trip, the scientist actually used his own inventions as means of travel. But at one point in the trip, one of the scientist's invented vehicles broke down.
I saw a line-drawing illustration of this scene. The scientist had flowing, dramatic hair and a thick, flowing mustache. He was very muscular. He seemed to be waist- or chest-deep in water. I read the caption for this illustration -- which may have been in the book or on the back cover of the book, as a kind of teaser for the book itself. The caption said that the scientist had the fortitude to continue on despite his struggles, and that he was funding the repair of his vehicle out of his own "laboratory funds."
As the four of us reached the opening in the fence and hairpinned our way around it, I looked at the cover of the book. The cover gave Verne's name as Jules-Port Verne. I felt a sense of relief at this. I remembered that for the longest time, I always knew Verne as J.P. Verne, without knowing Verne's full name. I'd always had a vague feeling that the J stood for Jules. But I'd never known that the P stood for Port. I also hadn't wanted to admit the shortcoming in my knowledge to the three other people I was with. I thought they'd probably know Verne's full name right off the bat and think of me as a fool for not knowing Verne's full name.
Dream #1
I was at a water slide amusement park with my mother. We received a phone call from my sister. My sister said she was ready to come to the water park as well. So we left the park and went to meet with my sister.
I was in a house at night. The house had a lot of long hallways. We were now going to head to the water park. But our grandfather was sitting either in the living room, which may have been pitch black, or in some other pitch black room. My sister said we had to avoid my grandpa. He was assuming my sister was staying at home. He'd get really mad if he found out my sister was going to the water park.
We walked outside. It was dark, but a lot of snow was falling, and with the orange streetlamps and falling snow, the sky and air looked purple. I was walking out to the car. There were actually three or four cars in the driveway. My grandpa was standing out by the cars. Somehow my sister had managed to avoid my grandpa's view.
We were now driving through the snow. It was maybe late afternoon, and the sky was a dim grey. I told my sister I didn't know if we'd be able to go back to the water park today. It didn't make sense to me that the park would be open if it was snowing like this. But my sister said it didn't matter and that we would be fine.
I didn't believe my sister. But as we continued driving, all the snow disappeared. It was still cloudy outside, but I could tell that it had become a lot warmer. But something else had changed: it was like we had traveled back in time twenty years, to the early 1990s.
I got excited about this and told my sister, "What the heck? We crossed a street, and now we're back in the 1990s!" My sister didn't quite see how I could tell this had happened. I pointed out how all the cars looked a lot different from the cars of 2012. We were in my sister's van. I told my sister, "Everybody must be looking at our car and saying to themselves, 'Wow, that's some kind of Prius.'"
We drove up a road past the water park and toward a Sea World aquarium. The parking lot for the water park was closer to the Sea World than to the water park. My sister was worried that we weren't going to find a good parking space.
As my sister expressed her worries, I saw Shamu, the killer whale mascot of Sea World, jump upward at least 10 meters. I was really excited and I pointed out the sight to my sister. Then another killer whale jumped around in its tank, though not much above the level of the water. I also looked up into the air to see some person atop a pole like a mast on a sailing ship.
Regarding my sister's worries that we wouldn't find a parking space, I said that, at this time of day, toward 3 PM, a lot of people were already getting ready to leave the water park. Plus the weather wasn't so great (it seemed to be getting cold again). So a lot of people were probably leaving on that account, too.
We had parked, and we were now walking toward the water park. We were walking along a sidewalk that seemed to be going along a botanical gardens rather than a water park. As we walked, my mom called us up. She may have been trying to figure out where we were, as if she were coming in her own vehicle to meet us.
It now seemed like my sister and I were walking with a whole lot of baggage and garbage, like we were walking, but we were still inside a vehicle, but the vehicle was just crammed with garbage. We also seemed to have a bunch of stuff like folding chairs with us.
Now my mom was with me and my sister. For some reason my mom had taken my phone and was looking at all my photos. She had found some video I'd accidentally taken on the phone while my sister and I had been walking toward the water park.
In the video, my sister and I were talking about my mom, mainly about the logistics for meeting her. There was nothing offensive about the things we were saying, but my mom still took offense. I got mad at my mom and asked for my phone back. This seemed to offend my mom as well. I was getting really frustrated.
Dream #2
Some party had just ended. I was walking back and forth between a living room and a kitchen. Neither the kitchen nor the living room seemed quite normal -- like they were really big, but unfinished. They almost had the feeling of a convention center.
My mom was in the kitchen, talking with one of her best friends. She was talking about some way in which she'd been competitive with me and won. It made me feel a little bit defeated. I thought to myself that when it came to my relationship with my mom, there was really just no way I could win. There was some girl I was interested in romantically. But I felt that because I could never win against my mother, it would be no use starting up a relationship with the girl I liked.
I had walked back out into the living room. But now I was coming back into the kitchen. The refrigerator door was open. I was thinking about grabbing some food for a meal, maybe dinner. But now the kitchen was outdoors, out on a street like a street in a downtown area. Just down the street from us, a parade was finishing up. The parade was probably in celebration of the same event for which the party had been celebrated.
One float in the parade, maybe the final float, was two gigantic glasses of Coca-Cola. The glasses were maybe 5 meters tall, and full of real Coke and huge ice cubes. I had been thirsty and I'd been trying to decide what I'd like to drink. Now I thought I might like a Coke -- but not from the huge glasses, of course!, I told myself. I went to the refrigerator and found a couple of cans of Coke. I grabbed a can.
Dream #3
I was out in a vacant lot in some downtown area. There were two women and a man out in the vacant lot with me. The women and man were young professionals. We all headed toward a fence at the front of the vacant lot and then over to the right, where the fence opened to let us out.
All this time, I was looking at a thin paperback novel. The novel had pulpy cover art. The cover art and yellowed pages, with a turquoise edging, made the paperback look like it was from the 1950s or 1960s. The novel was something like -- though possibly not exactly -- Jules Verne's Around the World in Eighty Days.
I got the idea that this story was about a scientist who had been funded for taking a trip around the world. During his trip, the scientist actually used his own inventions as means of travel. But at one point in the trip, one of the scientist's invented vehicles broke down.
I saw a line-drawing illustration of this scene. The scientist had flowing, dramatic hair and a thick, flowing mustache. He was very muscular. He seemed to be waist- or chest-deep in water. I read the caption for this illustration -- which may have been in the book or on the back cover of the book, as a kind of teaser for the book itself. The caption said that the scientist had the fortitude to continue on despite his struggles, and that he was funding the repair of his vehicle out of his own "laboratory funds."
As the four of us reached the opening in the fence and hairpinned our way around it, I looked at the cover of the book. The cover gave Verne's name as Jules-Port Verne. I felt a sense of relief at this. I remembered that for the longest time, I always knew Verne as J.P. Verne, without knowing Verne's full name. I'd always had a vague feeling that the J stood for Jules. But I'd never known that the P stood for Port. I also hadn't wanted to admit the shortcoming in my knowledge to the three other people I was with. I thought they'd probably know Verne's full name right off the bat and think of me as a fool for not knowing Verne's full name.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
rock star drug habits; college outskirts; better man?; the time traveling ski-mobile mechanic
Good morning everybody.
Dream #1
I was either a part of a rock band, or else I was focused on a young man who was a lot like me and was a part of a rock band. The rock band had probably taken part in some big festival. Their set was now over. They were relaxing at the corner of an extremely long couch in some large, dim room. There were a lot of other acts on the couch, relaxing, while, probably, in the distance, another band was playing.
One of the members of this rock band (maybe I/my counterpart) was complaining about how tired he was. Another male member may have suggested that if the member was tired, he should try taking some drugs. But a female band member, probably the leader of the whole band, said that nobody in the band was going to take drugs. I/my counterpart was relieved to hear that. I/my counterpart felt that if I/he took drugs, I/he would easily become addicted to them.
Another band sitting a ways down on the couch, not having heard the first band's discussion, was also having a discussion on drugs. A guy who looked a lot like Dee Snider was justifying the use of drugs, especially drugs that give a person energy. The guy scratched the back of his head and said that he himself was hoping he could score some drugs very soon.
Another band sitting at the same position as the first band now also discussed drug use. This band was supposed to be an actual band, though I can't remember who -- I keep thinking They Might Be Giants, but I don't think that's right. All the band members had huge, heavy beards. They all disagreed heavily with drug usage, especially the band leader, who spoke about drugs in the same tone of voice one might use while speaking about a really annoying person at work or school.
Dream #2
Something about walking around dusty mountain paths near a college campus. But I can't remember what. I may have just started school or come back after summer break. There were other people out there. We were all separate from each other, but we had all been discussing something before, and we were all thinking of it now. There may have been an element of being in a national park as well.
Dream #3
I was on the subway, sitting in a seat perpendicular to the walls of the car and next to a window. One of my old friends from college sat in the seat facing mine. She was talking on the phone with her boyfriend. I could tell, just from the conversation and possibly from hearing a little of the man's voice, that the girl's boyfriend was a scrawny, kind of weaselly guy -- sort of like me, except more exaggerated. I could also tell that the boy was a lot younger than my friend, from the way my friend was speaking to the boy.
I suddenly had the feeling that I'd be a better boyfriend for my friend than the weaselly boy would be. After all, the boy and I were a lot alike. But I had the advantage of not being so exaggeratedly weaselly as he was.
My friend hung up the phone on the boy. I made it clear somehow that my friend could complain to me about the boy. As she did, I got down on my knees in front of my friend. I nudged my head up under her left arm, like I was trying to snuggle with her like a small dog would.
I began asking the woman some questions, the answers to which I expected to be negative, since they were about the boy. I figured I'd then respond to those answers with statements about positive traits in myself. One of the first questions I asked may have been about the boy's age. I thought it was a positive that I was closer in age to my friend than the boy was.
Dream #4
I was out on the ski slopes with a female friend, whom I don't really recognize now. We were boyfriend and girlfriend. But we were also like partners, at least for the day, in some kind of daredevil skiing activity, like ski jumping.
We made some huge, dangerous jump and landed. But when we landed we ended up near the girl's parents, and maybe a couple other of the girl's family members. The parents were well-to-do and a little conservative. They seemed shocked that I'd ask their daughter to do such a thing as daredevil ski jumping with me. We'd landed safely, and they were relieved by that. But I could see, especially in the father's face, that they were afraid one of the next jumps would be far less successful.
I was skiing away from the family. I thought the girl was coming after me. But suddenly her skis broke right in half. She fell over onto her back. I turned around and tried to get back up to her. But she'd managed to stand back up and ski, or walk, back down toward me.
But just as we were reaching, the scene somehow changed. Now I had been a really strange kind of ski jumper. It was like I had been using a ski-mobile for ski jumping. But I hadn't just been jumping off of a ski ramp. I had actually been jumping through time. Part of the ski-mobile jumping course had been traveling to a different time, moving through an adventurous course in that different time, and then traveling back to the present to finish the course.
The woman had also been involved in this time travel ski-mobile competition. But while she had been traveling in time, her ski-mobile had come apart. I don't think she knew this, because I think she had been translated back into the present time as soon as her ski-mobile had started to fail.
I was now, back in the present, meeting up with the woman. The woman may have been on another ski-mobile. I sped along. She caught up to me and jumped onto my ski-mobile. I think she had been planning to make some kind of vehicle transfer with me -- as if my ski-mobile somehow held her ski-mobile as well, and that, as soon as she jumped off her present vehicle, her ski-mobile would unmerge from my ski-mobile, so that she could ride it.
But the only thing that appeared from the woman's ski-mobile was a set of pink handlebars and some mangled part of the machinery below the handlebars -- which kind of looked like machinery off of a motorcycle rather than a ski-mobile.
I explained to the woman that her ski-mobile had been completely destroyed in the other time period. She seemed to understand this. I believe that we were now heading toward a mechanic, who could possibly fix the woman's ski-mobile. The mechanic's shop, so to speak, was a large tent made out of olive drab canvas that stood alone in a white valley of snow.
I lifted up a flap of canvas and walked into the tent. But I was surprised to see that the tent had largely been abandoned. There were only a few "personal" items left: a couple random items and a wall-like divider that made the one room of the tent into two rooms (I'm not sure why I counted this as a personal item). The mechanic had completely cleared his shop and left.
Two of my male friends, whom I don't recognize now, were now in the tent with me. Either they explained to me or I explained to them that this mechanic had been a fraud and a fake. We were all part of some group that may have been military, but at least had some kind of military aspect about it.
The mechanic had come from the outside and had claimed he had had experience with groups like ours, so that he could help us. And we had come to trust in him and depend on his help. But then, while I was away, he had admitted that all this time he had been a fraud. He had now disappeared. But before he left, he wrote his name on the divider wall -- something like George Van Dem or George Van Der.
I think the two men and I may have been planning to use the man's name as a starting point for locating the man. I think I wanted to locate the mechanic because I thought that only he could fix the broken ski-mobile. But I think the two men and I together wanted to locate the mechanic because we wanted to "get back" at him for having been a fraud and having left us.
***
UPDATE: Added drawing to dream #4, September 24, 2012, 5:31 AM, Mountain Standard Time.
Dream #1
I was either a part of a rock band, or else I was focused on a young man who was a lot like me and was a part of a rock band. The rock band had probably taken part in some big festival. Their set was now over. They were relaxing at the corner of an extremely long couch in some large, dim room. There were a lot of other acts on the couch, relaxing, while, probably, in the distance, another band was playing.
One of the members of this rock band (maybe I/my counterpart) was complaining about how tired he was. Another male member may have suggested that if the member was tired, he should try taking some drugs. But a female band member, probably the leader of the whole band, said that nobody in the band was going to take drugs. I/my counterpart was relieved to hear that. I/my counterpart felt that if I/he took drugs, I/he would easily become addicted to them.
Another band sitting a ways down on the couch, not having heard the first band's discussion, was also having a discussion on drugs. A guy who looked a lot like Dee Snider was justifying the use of drugs, especially drugs that give a person energy. The guy scratched the back of his head and said that he himself was hoping he could score some drugs very soon.
Another band sitting at the same position as the first band now also discussed drug use. This band was supposed to be an actual band, though I can't remember who -- I keep thinking They Might Be Giants, but I don't think that's right. All the band members had huge, heavy beards. They all disagreed heavily with drug usage, especially the band leader, who spoke about drugs in the same tone of voice one might use while speaking about a really annoying person at work or school.
Dream #2
Something about walking around dusty mountain paths near a college campus. But I can't remember what. I may have just started school or come back after summer break. There were other people out there. We were all separate from each other, but we had all been discussing something before, and we were all thinking of it now. There may have been an element of being in a national park as well.
Dream #3
I was on the subway, sitting in a seat perpendicular to the walls of the car and next to a window. One of my old friends from college sat in the seat facing mine. She was talking on the phone with her boyfriend. I could tell, just from the conversation and possibly from hearing a little of the man's voice, that the girl's boyfriend was a scrawny, kind of weaselly guy -- sort of like me, except more exaggerated. I could also tell that the boy was a lot younger than my friend, from the way my friend was speaking to the boy.
I suddenly had the feeling that I'd be a better boyfriend for my friend than the weaselly boy would be. After all, the boy and I were a lot alike. But I had the advantage of not being so exaggeratedly weaselly as he was.
My friend hung up the phone on the boy. I made it clear somehow that my friend could complain to me about the boy. As she did, I got down on my knees in front of my friend. I nudged my head up under her left arm, like I was trying to snuggle with her like a small dog would.
I began asking the woman some questions, the answers to which I expected to be negative, since they were about the boy. I figured I'd then respond to those answers with statements about positive traits in myself. One of the first questions I asked may have been about the boy's age. I thought it was a positive that I was closer in age to my friend than the boy was.
Dream #4
I was out on the ski slopes with a female friend, whom I don't really recognize now. We were boyfriend and girlfriend. But we were also like partners, at least for the day, in some kind of daredevil skiing activity, like ski jumping.
We made some huge, dangerous jump and landed. But when we landed we ended up near the girl's parents, and maybe a couple other of the girl's family members. The parents were well-to-do and a little conservative. They seemed shocked that I'd ask their daughter to do such a thing as daredevil ski jumping with me. We'd landed safely, and they were relieved by that. But I could see, especially in the father's face, that they were afraid one of the next jumps would be far less successful.
I was skiing away from the family. I thought the girl was coming after me. But suddenly her skis broke right in half. She fell over onto her back. I turned around and tried to get back up to her. But she'd managed to stand back up and ski, or walk, back down toward me.
But just as we were reaching, the scene somehow changed. Now I had been a really strange kind of ski jumper. It was like I had been using a ski-mobile for ski jumping. But I hadn't just been jumping off of a ski ramp. I had actually been jumping through time. Part of the ski-mobile jumping course had been traveling to a different time, moving through an adventurous course in that different time, and then traveling back to the present to finish the course.
The woman had also been involved in this time travel ski-mobile competition. But while she had been traveling in time, her ski-mobile had come apart. I don't think she knew this, because I think she had been translated back into the present time as soon as her ski-mobile had started to fail.
I was now, back in the present, meeting up with the woman. The woman may have been on another ski-mobile. I sped along. She caught up to me and jumped onto my ski-mobile. I think she had been planning to make some kind of vehicle transfer with me -- as if my ski-mobile somehow held her ski-mobile as well, and that, as soon as she jumped off her present vehicle, her ski-mobile would unmerge from my ski-mobile, so that she could ride it.
But the only thing that appeared from the woman's ski-mobile was a set of pink handlebars and some mangled part of the machinery below the handlebars -- which kind of looked like machinery off of a motorcycle rather than a ski-mobile.
I explained to the woman that her ski-mobile had been completely destroyed in the other time period. She seemed to understand this. I believe that we were now heading toward a mechanic, who could possibly fix the woman's ski-mobile. The mechanic's shop, so to speak, was a large tent made out of olive drab canvas that stood alone in a white valley of snow.
I lifted up a flap of canvas and walked into the tent. But I was surprised to see that the tent had largely been abandoned. There were only a few "personal" items left: a couple random items and a wall-like divider that made the one room of the tent into two rooms (I'm not sure why I counted this as a personal item). The mechanic had completely cleared his shop and left.
Two of my male friends, whom I don't recognize now, were now in the tent with me. Either they explained to me or I explained to them that this mechanic had been a fraud and a fake. We were all part of some group that may have been military, but at least had some kind of military aspect about it.
The mechanic had come from the outside and had claimed he had had experience with groups like ours, so that he could help us. And we had come to trust in him and depend on his help. But then, while I was away, he had admitted that all this time he had been a fraud. He had now disappeared. But before he left, he wrote his name on the divider wall -- something like George Van Dem or George Van Der.
I think the two men and I may have been planning to use the man's name as a starting point for locating the man. I think I wanted to locate the mechanic because I thought that only he could fix the broken ski-mobile. But I think the two men and I together wanted to locate the mechanic because we wanted to "get back" at him for having been a fraud and having left us.
***
UPDATE: Added drawing to dream #4, September 24, 2012, 5:31 AM, Mountain Standard Time.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
screwed; hantavirus; statue of trickery
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I may have started out in an office. But eventually I was on the phone as I sat in a dim bedroom. Both in the office and on the phone, I was speaking with one of my old co-workers, KB. KB was now the head of some employment agency I was working with.
I had been out on a job. But KB now told me I couldn't go back. KB told me this was because some form I'd filled out had shown some bad information about me. I think it was possible for me to get around whatever bad information had been proven. But the management at the company wasn't around. So I'd have to wait until KB could get back in touch with the management, to talk with them about getting around the bad information.
I had a feeling this wasn't all true. I had a feeling that I'd somehow angered KB and that now she was trying to find a way to get back at me. KB was trying to keep me from this job. I thought that the management team may actually have been around, but that KB had just decided not to talk to them about me.
I got angry. I kept my emotions under control, but I did make a comment implying that I was angry and that I thought KB was giving me the runaround. As I spoke, I was driving a screw through a sheet of paper and into a brick-sized block of wood.
Dream #2
I was in a bedroom with a woman who was about my mom's age and size. The woman may have been one of my mom's old best friends. The woman half-lay on a bed. I sat down on the bed. We had been speaking about the hantavirus. For some reason, we were making jokes about how the virus had come from the "upscale" cabins at Yosemite.
Dream #3
I was either in or watching a movie. Either I or the main character was in love with a girl. But there were a number of men who were dead set against letting any woman into the character's life. These men were all from the internet, like they'd been internet figures, but they'd found their way off of the internet, through fiber optic cables, and into real life.
There were three men, I believe. One man was a definite leader. All the men were criminals. They may have been internet figures all their lives, or they may have, at some point, been relegated to the internet for their crimes. But now they had broken out of the internet and were ready to keep the main character from finding love in his life.
There were two scenes, both of which seemed to occur in adjacent rooms in some huge building, kind of like the Rose Main Reading Room of the NYPL. I can't remember the first scene very well. But I think I saw the main character very much in the third person during this scene.
In the second scene, I probably saw through the main character's eyes. I was getting in line for something. There was a long belt-rope line-maze leading to somewhere. I knew that somewhere along the line, I would meet the girl I was interested in. I was looking forward to meeting the woman and proving to the men trying to stop me that I wasn't afraid of them.
But now I got a phone call. The call was either from or on behalf of my mom. My mom was having serious health troubles. I needed to go see her right away. My mom may also have been angry with me, and that made me feel like I needed to get to her even sooner.
I turned around and headed out of the line and out of the room, probably into the room of the first scene. In that room the men who were against me stood around some sculpture that looked like a small model of the Statue of Liberty, except in a mottled fashion, kind of like a sculpture by Rodin.
The three men laughed at me. I now understood that the phone call had been a fake. My mom really wasn't in trouble. I was just being called so I'd step out of line and lose my chance at seeing the girl.
I was torn. I felt like I couldn't let myself believe the feelings I was getting from these men, that the phone call had been a fake. I still believed that my mom was in trouble. So I felt like I still needed to go see her. But I also couldn't let the men fake me into stepping out of line and seeing the woman. So I felt like I needed to get back in line. But I also felt like I'd already missed my chance at seeing the woman. Now that I'd stepped out of line, the woman would miss me and leave.
So I was frozen. I didn't know what to do or where to go. Of course, I didn't want to show this feeling to the men, either. The leader slapped two traffic-cone-orange squares onto the chest of the Rodinesque Statue of Liberty. The squares had backs that kind of looked like defibrillator pads.
***
UPDATE: Added drawing to dream #3, September 20, 2012, 8:13 AM, Mountain Standard Time.
Dream #1
I may have started out in an office. But eventually I was on the phone as I sat in a dim bedroom. Both in the office and on the phone, I was speaking with one of my old co-workers, KB. KB was now the head of some employment agency I was working with.
I had been out on a job. But KB now told me I couldn't go back. KB told me this was because some form I'd filled out had shown some bad information about me. I think it was possible for me to get around whatever bad information had been proven. But the management at the company wasn't around. So I'd have to wait until KB could get back in touch with the management, to talk with them about getting around the bad information.
I had a feeling this wasn't all true. I had a feeling that I'd somehow angered KB and that now she was trying to find a way to get back at me. KB was trying to keep me from this job. I thought that the management team may actually have been around, but that KB had just decided not to talk to them about me.
I got angry. I kept my emotions under control, but I did make a comment implying that I was angry and that I thought KB was giving me the runaround. As I spoke, I was driving a screw through a sheet of paper and into a brick-sized block of wood.
Dream #2
I was in a bedroom with a woman who was about my mom's age and size. The woman may have been one of my mom's old best friends. The woman half-lay on a bed. I sat down on the bed. We had been speaking about the hantavirus. For some reason, we were making jokes about how the virus had come from the "upscale" cabins at Yosemite.
Dream #3
I was either in or watching a movie. Either I or the main character was in love with a girl. But there were a number of men who were dead set against letting any woman into the character's life. These men were all from the internet, like they'd been internet figures, but they'd found their way off of the internet, through fiber optic cables, and into real life.
There were three men, I believe. One man was a definite leader. All the men were criminals. They may have been internet figures all their lives, or they may have, at some point, been relegated to the internet for their crimes. But now they had broken out of the internet and were ready to keep the main character from finding love in his life.
There were two scenes, both of which seemed to occur in adjacent rooms in some huge building, kind of like the Rose Main Reading Room of the NYPL. I can't remember the first scene very well. But I think I saw the main character very much in the third person during this scene.
In the second scene, I probably saw through the main character's eyes. I was getting in line for something. There was a long belt-rope line-maze leading to somewhere. I knew that somewhere along the line, I would meet the girl I was interested in. I was looking forward to meeting the woman and proving to the men trying to stop me that I wasn't afraid of them.
But now I got a phone call. The call was either from or on behalf of my mom. My mom was having serious health troubles. I needed to go see her right away. My mom may also have been angry with me, and that made me feel like I needed to get to her even sooner.
I turned around and headed out of the line and out of the room, probably into the room of the first scene. In that room the men who were against me stood around some sculpture that looked like a small model of the Statue of Liberty, except in a mottled fashion, kind of like a sculpture by Rodin.
The three men laughed at me. I now understood that the phone call had been a fake. My mom really wasn't in trouble. I was just being called so I'd step out of line and lose my chance at seeing the girl.
I was torn. I felt like I couldn't let myself believe the feelings I was getting from these men, that the phone call had been a fake. I still believed that my mom was in trouble. So I felt like I still needed to go see her. But I also couldn't let the men fake me into stepping out of line and seeing the woman. So I felt like I needed to get back in line. But I also felt like I'd already missed my chance at seeing the woman. Now that I'd stepped out of line, the woman would miss me and leave.
So I was frozen. I didn't know what to do or where to go. Of course, I didn't want to show this feeling to the men, either. The leader slapped two traffic-cone-orange squares onto the chest of the Rodinesque Statue of Liberty. The squares had backs that kind of looked like defibrillator pads.
***
UPDATE: Added drawing to dream #3, September 20, 2012, 8:13 AM, Mountain Standard Time.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
cleaning for mom; ornate room; program access; phone memory; politeness doesn't pay
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was at my family's house. I had just finished taking care of some task, possibly with my brother-in-law. Now we were heading back into the living room. It may have been night. The living room was cluttered. The only light in the room was an incandescent light bulb somewhere, maybe on a shadeless lamp on a table.
My mom and possibly a couple other family members all sat in a cirlce amid the piles and piles of clutter. My brother-in-law and I sat down with everybody. I think my mom was having us get ready to move a couple of heavy objects for her. We were ready to do this.
But now my mom said, "I'm glad you guys are here. Because we have a lot of stuff to go through and clean out. In fact, we could be here for days and days, cleaning out the stuff I have."
I got angry. I stood up and said, "Well, it's fine that you want us to help you clean stuff and move stuff. But I can't devote all my time to cleaning your stuff. I didn't just come here to do that. I came here to study, too."
I stood up to move something that needed to be moved. I felt bad after having been so angry with my mom. I had actually come back to my hometown because I was out of money. My mom had helped me get back home. Now I was telling her I couldn't help her with things?
As I walked over to the object I was supposed to move, an air hockey table, my mom told me, "We used to live on an Air Force base. When we lived out on the base, everything was a lot easier, and you had a lot better outlook on life. Do you remember that?"
I lifted up the air hockey table and shifted it either to the left or the right, about the length of the table. As soon as I shifted it, daylight flooded into the living room. The living room looked a lot bigger, almost as if it were a workshop or a warehouse. I turned around and walked through the living room. I probably walked past my mom, even though I was still probably talking to her and probably helping her out with things.
Dream #2
An ornate room, like a room in a palace. Every surface of the room had a blue marble kind of texture, like either a cream color or a light blue color veined with a darker blue. Everything was also edged or lined with gold in ornate designs. But some of the furniture seemed to be attached to the walls and the ceiling, so that I could see the tops of stools or dressers facing me from the wall before me and the ceiling.
Dream #3
I was in some big room like a big garage. But the walls seemed to be covered in a billowing, white fabric, like something out of a photographer's studio, and the light was a very suffused, gentle incandescent. There were rows of tall metal tables, like tables in a workshop. There were probably three or four rows, divided into two aisles. Each table had two computers on it. These computers were workstations for specific people.
I went to my workstation. But my computer wasn't working. A tall, pale, skinny, white man walked up to my workstation. The man told me that it was bad news that my computer wasn't working. I was doing something of some importance to the government. Somebody knew what kind of work I was doing. So if my computer wasn't working, it was likely that the people trying to stop my work hacked into my system and shut the system down. But I needed to keep doing the work. It couldn't stop now.
The man got onto my workstation. He may have told me that the problem was with an energy level in my workstation. Because something was weird with the energy level, I was no longer being given access to my workstation.
But the man had managed to set me up on some kind of a backdoor system. The regular system, I believe, required me to have a certain amount of energy so I could run all the programs on my workstation. This system, on the other hand, allowed me to log in to single programs. The system was just a list of the programs I would usually run. I would click on the program name. A drop down menu would appear. I would go from there to run my program.
Something didn't seem entirely good about this. I felt like I needed to have the regular system back up and running as soon as possible. I felt like if I continued using the setup I was currently using, whatever network my workstation was linked into would identify my activity in a strange way, destroying my regular system as I knew it, or else that I would eventually be denied access to this backdoor system as well.
Dream #4
My cell phone told me that I could no longer put any additional items onto the memory. The memory was so close to full that the phone could no longer even run the functions of programs that would store things in its memory. I really couldn't do anything on my phone. The phone didn't have enough memory to run any processes.
Dream #5
I was possibly in a bowling alley. I was with a large group of people, mostly kids. It may have been like we had taken these kids on a field trip. But now we were getting ready to leave.
As people were milling around, maybe doing stuff like putting on their jackets (it must have been winter), my sister stood before me. Behind her was a little partition, like she was standing before some segment of wall cornering off from a hallway. We stood in a greenish grey fluorescent light. Behind my sister, I could see the bowling alleys and all the kids.
My sister said, "I have a feeling you're having trouble with money. And I want to let you know that if you need help with money, all you have to do is ask. We're willing to help you."
I had a feeling I was in trouble with money, too. But I didn't want to bother my sister with the details. So I just told my sister thanks, and that I was alright.
We were all now walking down a hallway kind of like an office hallway, except that it was really dim. The only light was natural light coming from a front window wall in the far distance. We stopped so a group of people could do something, I'm not sure what, possibly use the restroom.
I stood in the hallway with a twelve-year-old girl. The girl had golden tan skin, blue eyes, and shoulder-length, brown-blonde hair. She only came up to the middle of my chest. She wore a big, puffy black jacket that made her look overweight. On the wall behind the girl was some framed photo, probably an Impressionist-style painting, in heavy browns, blacks, and greens, of a figure who looked kind of like Emile Zola.
The girl was kind of flirting with me. I liked it. I was flattered. The girl flirtatiously asked me something about what our relationship might be like in five years, when she was seventeen. In one sense, she may just have been implying that she was hoping she'd be able to take care of my by that time. In another sense, she was just wondering whether I would let her get romantic with me.
I tried to steer her off from worrying about that argument. I flattened my hand on the crown of her head, then lifted the flattened hand up in the air until it went about two or three inches above the crown of my head. This was supposed to illustrate to the girl how, in five years, she would be taller than I. She might still like me, but she wouldn't think I was attractive. So she shouldn't worry right now about whether she thought I was attractive.
We all started walking again. We headed toward the exit of this building, which was now definitely like an office building. In fact, we had all come here for some reason almost totally related to me. It was like I had come here to interview for a job or to find assistance regarding a job that I had or was looking for. Others in the group may have been doing the same thing here. Everything had been taken care of. So we were leaving.
But as almost everybody else had gone out the front door -- a big, heavy, wooden door, kind of like for a Mexican restaurant with a mission-like decor -- a woman came into the foyer and stopped me. She was a bit taller than I, olive skinned, with frizzy, black hair and brown eyes with a lot of mascara.
The woman told me, "I'm friends with SG, someone you used to work for. I called him up to tell him you were here. I was really excited you were here. But SG told me that you need to tell both me and him everything that made you leave your last job. We want to know what made the situation so bad that you couldn't stay there anymore. You're too valuable to us, SG said, and we can't afford to lose you."
The woman also said that SG had told her that I have a bad habit of not speaking up when things are going bad at the workplace. He'd said that I needed to talk to him whenever something bad started happening, so he could figure out how to take care of things for me.
My view faded out of the building, as if I had looked out the door -- not walked out of it -- and into a blinding white light. The view now changed into a yellow slip with computer-printed writing on it, almost like the copy portion of a bill or a deposit slip. But it was a letter, or, actually, something more like an email (in telegram form?) from SG.
SG's message said something like, "There is a point when you can have too much politeness. Sometimes it doesn't pay to be polite." This was in reference to my bad habit of always acting like things were going well when they really weren't. SG was telling me that I needed to tell him about the bad things, as soon as they happened, from now on.
Dream #1
I was at my family's house. I had just finished taking care of some task, possibly with my brother-in-law. Now we were heading back into the living room. It may have been night. The living room was cluttered. The only light in the room was an incandescent light bulb somewhere, maybe on a shadeless lamp on a table.
My mom and possibly a couple other family members all sat in a cirlce amid the piles and piles of clutter. My brother-in-law and I sat down with everybody. I think my mom was having us get ready to move a couple of heavy objects for her. We were ready to do this.
But now my mom said, "I'm glad you guys are here. Because we have a lot of stuff to go through and clean out. In fact, we could be here for days and days, cleaning out the stuff I have."
I got angry. I stood up and said, "Well, it's fine that you want us to help you clean stuff and move stuff. But I can't devote all my time to cleaning your stuff. I didn't just come here to do that. I came here to study, too."
I stood up to move something that needed to be moved. I felt bad after having been so angry with my mom. I had actually come back to my hometown because I was out of money. My mom had helped me get back home. Now I was telling her I couldn't help her with things?
As I walked over to the object I was supposed to move, an air hockey table, my mom told me, "We used to live on an Air Force base. When we lived out on the base, everything was a lot easier, and you had a lot better outlook on life. Do you remember that?"
I lifted up the air hockey table and shifted it either to the left or the right, about the length of the table. As soon as I shifted it, daylight flooded into the living room. The living room looked a lot bigger, almost as if it were a workshop or a warehouse. I turned around and walked through the living room. I probably walked past my mom, even though I was still probably talking to her and probably helping her out with things.
Dream #2
An ornate room, like a room in a palace. Every surface of the room had a blue marble kind of texture, like either a cream color or a light blue color veined with a darker blue. Everything was also edged or lined with gold in ornate designs. But some of the furniture seemed to be attached to the walls and the ceiling, so that I could see the tops of stools or dressers facing me from the wall before me and the ceiling.
Dream #3
I was in some big room like a big garage. But the walls seemed to be covered in a billowing, white fabric, like something out of a photographer's studio, and the light was a very suffused, gentle incandescent. There were rows of tall metal tables, like tables in a workshop. There were probably three or four rows, divided into two aisles. Each table had two computers on it. These computers were workstations for specific people.
I went to my workstation. But my computer wasn't working. A tall, pale, skinny, white man walked up to my workstation. The man told me that it was bad news that my computer wasn't working. I was doing something of some importance to the government. Somebody knew what kind of work I was doing. So if my computer wasn't working, it was likely that the people trying to stop my work hacked into my system and shut the system down. But I needed to keep doing the work. It couldn't stop now.
The man got onto my workstation. He may have told me that the problem was with an energy level in my workstation. Because something was weird with the energy level, I was no longer being given access to my workstation.
But the man had managed to set me up on some kind of a backdoor system. The regular system, I believe, required me to have a certain amount of energy so I could run all the programs on my workstation. This system, on the other hand, allowed me to log in to single programs. The system was just a list of the programs I would usually run. I would click on the program name. A drop down menu would appear. I would go from there to run my program.
Something didn't seem entirely good about this. I felt like I needed to have the regular system back up and running as soon as possible. I felt like if I continued using the setup I was currently using, whatever network my workstation was linked into would identify my activity in a strange way, destroying my regular system as I knew it, or else that I would eventually be denied access to this backdoor system as well.
Dream #4
My cell phone told me that I could no longer put any additional items onto the memory. The memory was so close to full that the phone could no longer even run the functions of programs that would store things in its memory. I really couldn't do anything on my phone. The phone didn't have enough memory to run any processes.
Dream #5
I was possibly in a bowling alley. I was with a large group of people, mostly kids. It may have been like we had taken these kids on a field trip. But now we were getting ready to leave.
As people were milling around, maybe doing stuff like putting on their jackets (it must have been winter), my sister stood before me. Behind her was a little partition, like she was standing before some segment of wall cornering off from a hallway. We stood in a greenish grey fluorescent light. Behind my sister, I could see the bowling alleys and all the kids.
My sister said, "I have a feeling you're having trouble with money. And I want to let you know that if you need help with money, all you have to do is ask. We're willing to help you."
I had a feeling I was in trouble with money, too. But I didn't want to bother my sister with the details. So I just told my sister thanks, and that I was alright.
We were all now walking down a hallway kind of like an office hallway, except that it was really dim. The only light was natural light coming from a front window wall in the far distance. We stopped so a group of people could do something, I'm not sure what, possibly use the restroom.
I stood in the hallway with a twelve-year-old girl. The girl had golden tan skin, blue eyes, and shoulder-length, brown-blonde hair. She only came up to the middle of my chest. She wore a big, puffy black jacket that made her look overweight. On the wall behind the girl was some framed photo, probably an Impressionist-style painting, in heavy browns, blacks, and greens, of a figure who looked kind of like Emile Zola.
The girl was kind of flirting with me. I liked it. I was flattered. The girl flirtatiously asked me something about what our relationship might be like in five years, when she was seventeen. In one sense, she may just have been implying that she was hoping she'd be able to take care of my by that time. In another sense, she was just wondering whether I would let her get romantic with me.
I tried to steer her off from worrying about that argument. I flattened my hand on the crown of her head, then lifted the flattened hand up in the air until it went about two or three inches above the crown of my head. This was supposed to illustrate to the girl how, in five years, she would be taller than I. She might still like me, but she wouldn't think I was attractive. So she shouldn't worry right now about whether she thought I was attractive.
We all started walking again. We headed toward the exit of this building, which was now definitely like an office building. In fact, we had all come here for some reason almost totally related to me. It was like I had come here to interview for a job or to find assistance regarding a job that I had or was looking for. Others in the group may have been doing the same thing here. Everything had been taken care of. So we were leaving.
But as almost everybody else had gone out the front door -- a big, heavy, wooden door, kind of like for a Mexican restaurant with a mission-like decor -- a woman came into the foyer and stopped me. She was a bit taller than I, olive skinned, with frizzy, black hair and brown eyes with a lot of mascara.
The woman told me, "I'm friends with SG, someone you used to work for. I called him up to tell him you were here. I was really excited you were here. But SG told me that you need to tell both me and him everything that made you leave your last job. We want to know what made the situation so bad that you couldn't stay there anymore. You're too valuable to us, SG said, and we can't afford to lose you."
The woman also said that SG had told her that I have a bad habit of not speaking up when things are going bad at the workplace. He'd said that I needed to talk to him whenever something bad started happening, so he could figure out how to take care of things for me.
My view faded out of the building, as if I had looked out the door -- not walked out of it -- and into a blinding white light. The view now changed into a yellow slip with computer-printed writing on it, almost like the copy portion of a bill or a deposit slip. But it was a letter, or, actually, something more like an email (in telegram form?) from SG.
SG's message said something like, "There is a point when you can have too much politeness. Sometimes it doesn't pay to be polite." This was in reference to my bad habit of always acting like things were going well when they really weren't. SG was telling me that I needed to tell him about the bad things, as soon as they happened, from now on.
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
grandmother's obligation; retaking test
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I had received word that I had gotten a new job. I was really excited about the job, and I was waiting to go. I walked into "my bedroom," which was at the end of a long hallway in some kind of public building.
I then got a phone call from my step grandmother. She needed me to take care of something for her. I was a little annoyed, though I didn't act annoyed. I knew I couldn't go to my new job without taking care of this thing for my step grandmother. But it was going to be a little tedious.
My grandma then asked to be put on the phone with my mother. I carried my cell phone down another hallway, to where my mother was lying in bed. I had to wake up my mother. My mom rolled over. I gave her the phone.
I had stood on the right (my mom's right) side of the bed as I'd handed her the phone. Now I walked over to the left side. I may have been standing next to a big box of diapers. My mom was mumbling groggily to my grandma, something about how she would make sure to be there to do whatever my grandma needed us to do.
Dream #2
I had taken some sort of standardized test. But I'd failed by only a few questions. But it also seemed like the only questions I'd missed were the few questions I'd failed by. It was like I'd needed a 100% score to pass. I decided I'd study these questions and take the test again.
I went into my bedroom, which was kind of a big, lonely room with a huge bed in it. There was a window which let in some grey light, like it had been raining outside. There may have been clutter near the window, and maybe a dark blue sheet was being used for a curtain, though it may have fallen off the window.
I either lay on my stomach on the bed or else knelt down by the left side of the bed. I was looking at the wall at the head of the bed. There may have been a bookshelf on the wall over or near the head of the bed. There were also squares of grainy, grey color on the wall, like artworks.
I reflected that the test I was taking was the kind of test where you really just needed to study the questions and answers. As long as you drilled those into your head, you could pass the test easily enough. I thought that maybe my study strategy should just be studying the questions and answers I'd missed. But then I thought that you never knew what questions and answers would appear on the test. So I just decided to study all the questions and answers.
I called somebody, probably a young woman, to schedule my test. The day may have been a Wednesday. I think I'd scheduled my test for the following day, in the afternoon. Or it may have been a Thursday, in the morning, and I'd scheduled my test for the same day, in the afternoon.
I was now walking outside somewhere. I realized that I'd heard somewhere that this particular test was being changed. I remembered that some people said it wasn't going to be as easy as it had been before. This made me wonder -- was just studying the questions and answers good enough for passing the test? Or would I find that I'd wasted all my time in studying the wrong way?
I came to the conclusion that I could study for the plan the way I'd originally thought I should. I wasn't totally certain that I'd be okay. But I knew that I had to have some strategy, and this was the only strategy I had.
I was in some area that could be used for studying -- something like a coffee shop. The light in here was also very grey, like it had just finished raining outside. And there were also grainy, grey patches on the wall. But the grey patches on the wall here were more obtrusive on my vision, like they were actually a part of my own actual nervous sense-functioning.
I got a little more worried about the test. I thought that maybe I should call the young woman again and reschedule my test. I'd scheduled myself for Thursday afternoon. But if I could reschedule for Friday, that would give me more time to study. I may have settled on rescheduling for Friday afternoon. But then I may have decided that Friday morning would be better.
***
UPDATE: Thank you, as always, for reading. A discussion of the images in this dream can be found at this entry in my dreamday journal.
Dream #1
I had received word that I had gotten a new job. I was really excited about the job, and I was waiting to go. I walked into "my bedroom," which was at the end of a long hallway in some kind of public building.
I then got a phone call from my step grandmother. She needed me to take care of something for her. I was a little annoyed, though I didn't act annoyed. I knew I couldn't go to my new job without taking care of this thing for my step grandmother. But it was going to be a little tedious.
My grandma then asked to be put on the phone with my mother. I carried my cell phone down another hallway, to where my mother was lying in bed. I had to wake up my mother. My mom rolled over. I gave her the phone.
I had stood on the right (my mom's right) side of the bed as I'd handed her the phone. Now I walked over to the left side. I may have been standing next to a big box of diapers. My mom was mumbling groggily to my grandma, something about how she would make sure to be there to do whatever my grandma needed us to do.
Dream #2
I had taken some sort of standardized test. But I'd failed by only a few questions. But it also seemed like the only questions I'd missed were the few questions I'd failed by. It was like I'd needed a 100% score to pass. I decided I'd study these questions and take the test again.
I went into my bedroom, which was kind of a big, lonely room with a huge bed in it. There was a window which let in some grey light, like it had been raining outside. There may have been clutter near the window, and maybe a dark blue sheet was being used for a curtain, though it may have fallen off the window.
I either lay on my stomach on the bed or else knelt down by the left side of the bed. I was looking at the wall at the head of the bed. There may have been a bookshelf on the wall over or near the head of the bed. There were also squares of grainy, grey color on the wall, like artworks.
I reflected that the test I was taking was the kind of test where you really just needed to study the questions and answers. As long as you drilled those into your head, you could pass the test easily enough. I thought that maybe my study strategy should just be studying the questions and answers I'd missed. But then I thought that you never knew what questions and answers would appear on the test. So I just decided to study all the questions and answers.
I called somebody, probably a young woman, to schedule my test. The day may have been a Wednesday. I think I'd scheduled my test for the following day, in the afternoon. Or it may have been a Thursday, in the morning, and I'd scheduled my test for the same day, in the afternoon.
I was now walking outside somewhere. I realized that I'd heard somewhere that this particular test was being changed. I remembered that some people said it wasn't going to be as easy as it had been before. This made me wonder -- was just studying the questions and answers good enough for passing the test? Or would I find that I'd wasted all my time in studying the wrong way?
I came to the conclusion that I could study for the plan the way I'd originally thought I should. I wasn't totally certain that I'd be okay. But I knew that I had to have some strategy, and this was the only strategy I had.
I was in some area that could be used for studying -- something like a coffee shop. The light in here was also very grey, like it had just finished raining outside. And there were also grainy, grey patches on the wall. But the grey patches on the wall here were more obtrusive on my vision, like they were actually a part of my own actual nervous sense-functioning.
I got a little more worried about the test. I thought that maybe I should call the young woman again and reschedule my test. I'd scheduled myself for Thursday afternoon. But if I could reschedule for Friday, that would give me more time to study. I may have settled on rescheduling for Friday afternoon. But then I may have decided that Friday morning would be better.
***
UPDATE: Thank you, as always, for reading. A discussion of the images in this dream can be found at this entry in my dreamday journal.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
ten cent porn; trash files; juice boss; cooking too much?; secretly following; hitting hitcher; blackmail cupcakes
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was on some form of public transportation, maybe a bus, but probably more like a train or a subway. We were moving along above ground. The sky outside may have been deep blue-grey, as if it were late afternoon or early morning and cloudy. I sat in seats that edged their sides against the window. In front of me was a row of seats that edged their backs against the window. There may actually have been another row of seats in front of that first row.
I was looking at my phone. A man now sat in the seats in front of me. He was skinny, with dark skin and dark, wavy hair done up in a square cut. He wore a button-up shirt and nice slacks. He smiled at me and said something like, "You looking at porn?"
I was kind of shocked. I wasn't looking at porn. But I knew I could have been at some other time. In conjunction with my shock, we may have passed over some big bump. I dropped my phone. It scuttered under the row of seats the man was sitting in.
The man didn't seem to notice that I had dropped my phone. I didn't want to act like I'd dropped my phone. I thought if I acted worried, the guy would definitely think I had been looking at porn, and he'd definitely want to look at my phone. I didn't want to ask the guy for help in getting my phone.
I was trying to figure out the best way for getting my phone. I couldn't reach for it from where I sat. It had fallen all the way to the other end of the row. So I had to get up and get it. I stood up and went for it. I knelt in front of the row of seats.
It was a little harder than I'd thought it would be to get to it. The row of seats in front of this row was so close that it was like I had to crawl under this row just to get to the back row. Instead of the man sitting there, there may now have been a Hispanic woman, maybe with one or two little kids.
I noticed that down here the seats were all dusty, too. I could see my phone (except now it may just have been a dime) at the very end of a corner formed by the row of seats and the wall. I crawled back and reached for the phone, rubbing myself up against all the dust of the seats so that I could squeeze my arm in to where the dime was.
I pulled the dime out and looked at it. I may have been sitting straight up, still under the seats, though before I'd had to do a pretty short crawl to get here. Now that I'd actually retrieved my dime, I no longer thought it had been worth all the trouble I'd gone through.
Dream #2
I was at my office. I was looking down into the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet. The drawer was all full of clutter. I may have been panicked, trying to figure out how to take care of all this clutter.
I may have heard my boss' voice from behind me, talking to our office manager, BL. My boss told BL, "You'll see. We can do without him. Anybody can do his job, really."
Dream #3
I was in some place like a break room. It seemed to be at the back of a big grocery store. The break room was kind of narrow. A big, circular table with a fake wood top took up most of the room. I sat at the table. The lights in the room were all off. The only light was the fluorescent light from the store, which came in through the open door of the break room.
My boss walked in. He said something like, "You're still here? We got rid of you, didn't we? We have your replacement and everything."
I may have tried to explain something about my being here, like there were one or two things that still needed to be taken care of. But my boss said something to ridicule everything I said. He said everything in a really pissy yet nonchalant tone that made it clear he was trying to insult me as much as he could in the most tactful way possible, so that he could prove how little he felt he needed me without actually getting himself in trouble for insulting me.
I was so angry that I shouted something back at him. It was pretty violent, but I can't remember what it was. My boss didn't take what I'd said seriously at all. So I began to laugh. I told him if he didn't think I was serious, he could just wait and see. I began to laugh louder and louder.
I laughed so loud that I "woke myself up" -- somewhere. I was walking around in the grocery store, I believe. I could hear two women talking to me from somewhere, maybe from inside my head. I could tell that the two women were Hispanic. Maybe they'd been attractive before. But now they were kind of worn-out and dumpy-looking.
The two women were telling me that when I'd been laughing in my sleep, I'd been laughing so hard that I'd woken them up. They said my laugh had been an evil laugh, and that it made them afraid for my boss. I don't know how they knew I was laughing about my boss.
I myself was really surprised I could have given such an evil laugh. When the women told me that my laugh was evil, I began to worry about myself. Was I okay? Did I need psychological help?
I was now walking along the back wall of the grocery store. There was a door along the back wall. I knew that behind that door was my boss' bedroom. He was asleep in that room. It may have been like a dorm room. My boss may actually have been sharing that room with the guy my boss had hired in my place. My boss and the guy may both have been asleep.
I knew my boss had fallen asleep because he thought there was nothing to worry about from me. I was going to show him. I had a plastic bottle in my hands. Actually, the bottle in my hands kept changing. First it was a small, 600ml plastic bottle. Then it was a big plastic juice bottle, maybe around two liters. There may also have been times when I held more than one bottle in my hands. The bottles may usually have been full of orange juice. I don't think any of them were ever completely full.
I planned to sneak into my boss' bedroom while he was asleep and pound him on the head with these bottles until his skull was smashed and he died. But as I was walking up to the door of the room, two tall, very muscular, bronze-skinned men walked up from behind me. The men wore tight, dark grey or black t-shirts and maybe dull green or grey pants, also kind of tight, maybe made of denim. They had short, wavy brown hair, and square, but kind of babyish, faces.
I had a bad feeling that these guys were trying to break into my boss' bedroom. They seemed to want to steal some of the stuff in the bedroom. Apparently the bedroom was also like a storehouse for some of the most valuable stuff in the store.
I didn't want the store to get stolen from, so I began watching the guys very closely. I decided not to go into the room. The room had a sliding door with a small, inward notch of a handle, painted the same pale-tan as the rest of the door. I didn't want the two men to see how easy it was to get into the room. They'd only be more encouraged to go in.
So either I got friendly with the guys or the guys got friendly with me. We began talking, walking past the room, all of us acting like the room was of no importance to us at all. We turned right and headed down an aisle with rather large shelves, more like shelves in a huge discount warehouse than in a normal grocery store. We were talking about something that I seemed to be engaged in with a kind of childlike enthusiasm.
I got the feeling, as we continued walking, that the guys had decided they were going to protect me. But I didn't know if that was just an act. So I kept all my conversation away from anything having to do with my boss or the bedroom door.
Dream #4
I was in some restaurant. I probably worked there. The restaurant had a long, narrow eating area and a small kitchen, most of which was visible from behind a counter. The restaurant was closed at the moment. But we were apparently preparing, so we could open up for some big party later in the day. The party may have been planned to be a multiple-day party. It may also have been the case that we had just closed down for the day, but that we now had to prepare all of our food for the next day.
Most of the workers seemed to be hanging around in the eating area, toward the back, at a couple of tables. It seemed like they, in general, really didn't have anything to do with the cooking, or maybe even the serving of the food. It seemed like they were all some kind of bosses, more concerned with the administrative aspects of the restaurant. There were one or two cooks behind the counter.
I'm not sure exactly what my job was. But somehow, I was keeping track of the amount of food made. I was also somehow involved in determining how much food needed to be made. At some point I had concluded that we didn't need to make a whole lot. We probably hadn't had much business the day before, and it looked like things weren't going to be any more active the next day. Plus, with the kind of food we made (some kind of fish?), it was much better to cook too little and have the food be fresh and good, than to cook too much and have food go bad.
The cook or cooks took my advice and began cooking only a little bit of food. I think I saw the preparations -- something like sheet pans with circular items, like biscuits, except made of fish, laid out on them.
But now I heard from the front door that the next day of the party was going to be really busy. There would probably be a lot of people here. And, in fact, a large group of people might even have made a reservation specifically for this restaurant.
I was excited. I ran back to the cooks and told them that we now needed to cook a lot of food. We were going to have a full house. Suddenly the cooks had all kinds of big fillets of fish, all being fried and laid out on pans everywhere. There were all kinds of pans of greasy, still-bubbling, fried fish -- everywhere.
I walked away from the cooks' counter and back toward the back of the store, where the other guys sat. I suddenly had a bad feeling that I'd told the cooks to make way too much food. The place would probably not be busy enough to serve all that food. If it were busier than the other days, we'd be kind of okay. But we'd still have too much food. But if it were only as busy as the other days, we'd have a whole lot of food and waste on our hands. We'd have wasted a lot of money.
Dream #5
It was probably a fresh, crisp morning. I was out walking around some place like a small town or a college town or campus, leading a small group of new students in some kind of orientation program. Everybody seemed cheerful and relaxed, even though I think we had gotten to some place where I really didn't know where I was going. We were walking along some grey flagstone path in between some large lawns, at the end of which were large, stately buildings.
A group of guys came walking our way from the other direction. They were all a lot taller and stronger than I. One of the guys, a black man with a shaved head, asked if we knew where we were going. I probably walked up to the guy and mumble-whispered something like, "I don't know where we're going. Do you think you could show us the way -- but without letting on that I don't know what I'm doing?"
We stood before a black iron gate (on my right side) that was hinged on either side with a maybe 2 meter tall stone post. The gate was already partly open. The man opened the gate the rest of the way for us. We all cheerfully walked in. After the gate was a flagstone path that led directly up to one of the big, stately buildings.
The man pointed out a stack of textbooks on the right side of the flagstone path. The top book may have had a yellow cover. The book may have been a mathematics textbook.
The man said, "I think somebody left their textbooks on the path." I knew that this was the way the man was justifying having given me directions for where to go. If he opened the gate and pointed out the books, it would just look like he was pointing out the books, not pointing out the direction I was supposed to take.
I may have replied that the person who owned these books (maybe some female student?) wasn't here, but that I'd make sure to get the books to her. I probably went to pick the books up.
Dream #6
It was morning. I was out with some young, black man on a road, probably in a neighborhood full of fenced parking lots and warehouses. It may have been like I was going to work. It may have been a hot, kind of smoggy morning. The sky was a sour yellow, with the sun just coming up over the horizon.
There were a decent amount of cars in the street, all heading to some warehouse yard to start work. The boy and I seemed to be in a hurry, even though I don't think either of us was too keen to start work.
The boy suddenly had an idea that to get to work quicker we could "hitch a ride." But this hitching a ride didn't necessarily mean getting permission to ride with somebody and getting into their car. The boy told me, "Come on!" He ran up to some van that may have been full of young people, like college students or recent college graduates in something like an intern program. The boy seemed just to jump onto the back or the side of the van and hold on as the van drove away.
I knew that the boy was doing this less because he was in a hurry to get to work and more because he simply didn't feel like walking the rest of the way to work. But I was in a hurry to get to work, and, even though I didn't like the boy's idea, I thought it seemed smart enough that I'd better do it. So I jumped onto a van, possibly not the same van as the boy had jumped onto.
But as I was jumping onto the van I noticed that at one intersection, at which we had just turned left, there was so much traffic that everything had come to a standstill. I was now somehow inside the van. All the young people seemed to make me feel welcome. There may have been a pretty, little, skinny white girl with big, blue-green eyes and her brown hair back in a loose ponytail.
At some point I may have decided that it would be easier just to get out and walk. But suddenly an accident occurred. We'd been moving forward, when we'd hit my friend who'd jumped on the other van. Apparently he'd gotten off the van -- maybe he'd been thrown off of it. But we'd actually driven right over him. It was obvious that he was dead -- crushed. But I didn't want to believe it.
I think I'd gotten out of the van I was in, as if that would reverse my friend's death. I was walking to work. But then at some point I was driving in a car -- a yellow taxi-cab, actually -- with my mom. My mom was driving. I sat in the front passenger seat.
We turned right and drove through an open gate. We were heading along a wide road through a wide lawn. Up ahead was a big, stately building, like a college building. But I looked up ahead and to my left and saw that there were people out here training to be astronauts. Some people may even have been wearing full astronaut outfits for spacewalks.
Suddenly, from nearby, on the left side of the road, there were two people: a boy and a girl. I'm not sure what happened to the boy. He may simply have run off into the field. But the girl ran directly in front of our car. My mom had to step on the breaks really quickly. Even then we barely missed hitting the girl.
The girl was a beautiful, tall, skinny, black girl with long, loosely curly, black hair. She wore a schoolgirl's outfit, with a tartan skirt and overall-blouse and a white button-up shirt. But she was a college student, or at least preparing to become a college student.
The girl looked terribly panicked. She gave me and my mom a look, like she knew she'd forced us to stop, but that she'd had to do it. She quickly ran around to the back passenger side of the car and got in. My mom had the understanding that we needed to just keep driving and get the girl to the same place as we were going.
The girl said, in an ominous tone, "I really feel sorry for you guys." I could tell that the girl knew something bad that was possibly going to happen to me and my mom. It probably had something to do with the young man who got hit by the van. But it was also connected to the girl in some way, like whatever the girl was trying to escape was whatever was coming after me and my mom, too.
I asked the girl, "What do you mean, you feel sorry for us?" I looked in the rearview mirror at the girl. I could tell the girl was too distressed to talk. I asked, "Do you just not want to tell me right now?" The girl pursed her lips in fear and shook her head. She may have been clutching a teddy bear tightly in her arms.
Dream #7
I was in some place like a Starbucks. But it was much larger than a normal Starbucks. The cashier's counter was also set at some strange angle to the rest of the store. The area around the counter was set up in a cluttered kind of way, too, with the glass display cases set at odd angles to the counter. And, behind a door behind the counter was, apparently, a really big food prep area, like this place was actually a restaurant rather than a cafe or a Starbucks.
I had ordered and had been sitting down. But now I'd stood up and come back to the counter. I may have been planning to leave. But the man behind the counter, a tall, kind of muscular black man with a bit of a feminine attitude, had either given me or sold me some extra items, so that now I felt like I should stay at the cafe to finish my items. This probably wasn't so bad, as I probably had stuff I wanted to read or write.
But now the man offered me even more food. This time it was some kind of cupcakes with a thick layer of pale brown chocolate frosting. The cupcakes looked really good. But I knew I probably shouldn't have them. But the man told me to take one.
There was some woman behind me and just to my right now. She may have been with me.
I told the man that I really couldn't take anything else. I'd probably had enough with the first stuff I'd gotten. With the second batch of stuff the guy had given me, I probably had too much. The cupcakes would make it way too much.
I was about to walk away. But now the man brought out a huge tray of some kind of sweet breads that were coated in some kind of sweet syrup. The man told me something like, "Now, you really can't resist these."
I was actually going to try and resist them. But the man actually told me something weird, like, if I didn't take one of these little cakes with me, he was going to tell everybody some dirty,little secret of mine. So I decided to take one of the cakes. They actually did look really, really good. And now I was even tempted to take one of the cupcakes with the chocolate frosting, too. I really did want to know how that frosting tasted.
*****
Update -- you can find info on images I think are related to this dream (and some others) in this entry of my dream-day blog.
Dream #1
I was on some form of public transportation, maybe a bus, but probably more like a train or a subway. We were moving along above ground. The sky outside may have been deep blue-grey, as if it were late afternoon or early morning and cloudy. I sat in seats that edged their sides against the window. In front of me was a row of seats that edged their backs against the window. There may actually have been another row of seats in front of that first row.
I was looking at my phone. A man now sat in the seats in front of me. He was skinny, with dark skin and dark, wavy hair done up in a square cut. He wore a button-up shirt and nice slacks. He smiled at me and said something like, "You looking at porn?"
I was kind of shocked. I wasn't looking at porn. But I knew I could have been at some other time. In conjunction with my shock, we may have passed over some big bump. I dropped my phone. It scuttered under the row of seats the man was sitting in.
The man didn't seem to notice that I had dropped my phone. I didn't want to act like I'd dropped my phone. I thought if I acted worried, the guy would definitely think I had been looking at porn, and he'd definitely want to look at my phone. I didn't want to ask the guy for help in getting my phone.
I was trying to figure out the best way for getting my phone. I couldn't reach for it from where I sat. It had fallen all the way to the other end of the row. So I had to get up and get it. I stood up and went for it. I knelt in front of the row of seats.
It was a little harder than I'd thought it would be to get to it. The row of seats in front of this row was so close that it was like I had to crawl under this row just to get to the back row. Instead of the man sitting there, there may now have been a Hispanic woman, maybe with one or two little kids.
I noticed that down here the seats were all dusty, too. I could see my phone (except now it may just have been a dime) at the very end of a corner formed by the row of seats and the wall. I crawled back and reached for the phone, rubbing myself up against all the dust of the seats so that I could squeeze my arm in to where the dime was.
I pulled the dime out and looked at it. I may have been sitting straight up, still under the seats, though before I'd had to do a pretty short crawl to get here. Now that I'd actually retrieved my dime, I no longer thought it had been worth all the trouble I'd gone through.
Dream #2
I was at my office. I was looking down into the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet. The drawer was all full of clutter. I may have been panicked, trying to figure out how to take care of all this clutter.
I may have heard my boss' voice from behind me, talking to our office manager, BL. My boss told BL, "You'll see. We can do without him. Anybody can do his job, really."
Dream #3
I was in some place like a break room. It seemed to be at the back of a big grocery store. The break room was kind of narrow. A big, circular table with a fake wood top took up most of the room. I sat at the table. The lights in the room were all off. The only light was the fluorescent light from the store, which came in through the open door of the break room.
My boss walked in. He said something like, "You're still here? We got rid of you, didn't we? We have your replacement and everything."
I may have tried to explain something about my being here, like there were one or two things that still needed to be taken care of. But my boss said something to ridicule everything I said. He said everything in a really pissy yet nonchalant tone that made it clear he was trying to insult me as much as he could in the most tactful way possible, so that he could prove how little he felt he needed me without actually getting himself in trouble for insulting me.
I was so angry that I shouted something back at him. It was pretty violent, but I can't remember what it was. My boss didn't take what I'd said seriously at all. So I began to laugh. I told him if he didn't think I was serious, he could just wait and see. I began to laugh louder and louder.
I laughed so loud that I "woke myself up" -- somewhere. I was walking around in the grocery store, I believe. I could hear two women talking to me from somewhere, maybe from inside my head. I could tell that the two women were Hispanic. Maybe they'd been attractive before. But now they were kind of worn-out and dumpy-looking.
The two women were telling me that when I'd been laughing in my sleep, I'd been laughing so hard that I'd woken them up. They said my laugh had been an evil laugh, and that it made them afraid for my boss. I don't know how they knew I was laughing about my boss.
I myself was really surprised I could have given such an evil laugh. When the women told me that my laugh was evil, I began to worry about myself. Was I okay? Did I need psychological help?
I was now walking along the back wall of the grocery store. There was a door along the back wall. I knew that behind that door was my boss' bedroom. He was asleep in that room. It may have been like a dorm room. My boss may actually have been sharing that room with the guy my boss had hired in my place. My boss and the guy may both have been asleep.
I knew my boss had fallen asleep because he thought there was nothing to worry about from me. I was going to show him. I had a plastic bottle in my hands. Actually, the bottle in my hands kept changing. First it was a small, 600ml plastic bottle. Then it was a big plastic juice bottle, maybe around two liters. There may also have been times when I held more than one bottle in my hands. The bottles may usually have been full of orange juice. I don't think any of them were ever completely full.
I planned to sneak into my boss' bedroom while he was asleep and pound him on the head with these bottles until his skull was smashed and he died. But as I was walking up to the door of the room, two tall, very muscular, bronze-skinned men walked up from behind me. The men wore tight, dark grey or black t-shirts and maybe dull green or grey pants, also kind of tight, maybe made of denim. They had short, wavy brown hair, and square, but kind of babyish, faces.
I had a bad feeling that these guys were trying to break into my boss' bedroom. They seemed to want to steal some of the stuff in the bedroom. Apparently the bedroom was also like a storehouse for some of the most valuable stuff in the store.
I didn't want the store to get stolen from, so I began watching the guys very closely. I decided not to go into the room. The room had a sliding door with a small, inward notch of a handle, painted the same pale-tan as the rest of the door. I didn't want the two men to see how easy it was to get into the room. They'd only be more encouraged to go in.
So either I got friendly with the guys or the guys got friendly with me. We began talking, walking past the room, all of us acting like the room was of no importance to us at all. We turned right and headed down an aisle with rather large shelves, more like shelves in a huge discount warehouse than in a normal grocery store. We were talking about something that I seemed to be engaged in with a kind of childlike enthusiasm.
I got the feeling, as we continued walking, that the guys had decided they were going to protect me. But I didn't know if that was just an act. So I kept all my conversation away from anything having to do with my boss or the bedroom door.
Dream #4
I was in some restaurant. I probably worked there. The restaurant had a long, narrow eating area and a small kitchen, most of which was visible from behind a counter. The restaurant was closed at the moment. But we were apparently preparing, so we could open up for some big party later in the day. The party may have been planned to be a multiple-day party. It may also have been the case that we had just closed down for the day, but that we now had to prepare all of our food for the next day.
Most of the workers seemed to be hanging around in the eating area, toward the back, at a couple of tables. It seemed like they, in general, really didn't have anything to do with the cooking, or maybe even the serving of the food. It seemed like they were all some kind of bosses, more concerned with the administrative aspects of the restaurant. There were one or two cooks behind the counter.
I'm not sure exactly what my job was. But somehow, I was keeping track of the amount of food made. I was also somehow involved in determining how much food needed to be made. At some point I had concluded that we didn't need to make a whole lot. We probably hadn't had much business the day before, and it looked like things weren't going to be any more active the next day. Plus, with the kind of food we made (some kind of fish?), it was much better to cook too little and have the food be fresh and good, than to cook too much and have food go bad.
The cook or cooks took my advice and began cooking only a little bit of food. I think I saw the preparations -- something like sheet pans with circular items, like biscuits, except made of fish, laid out on them.
But now I heard from the front door that the next day of the party was going to be really busy. There would probably be a lot of people here. And, in fact, a large group of people might even have made a reservation specifically for this restaurant.
I was excited. I ran back to the cooks and told them that we now needed to cook a lot of food. We were going to have a full house. Suddenly the cooks had all kinds of big fillets of fish, all being fried and laid out on pans everywhere. There were all kinds of pans of greasy, still-bubbling, fried fish -- everywhere.
I walked away from the cooks' counter and back toward the back of the store, where the other guys sat. I suddenly had a bad feeling that I'd told the cooks to make way too much food. The place would probably not be busy enough to serve all that food. If it were busier than the other days, we'd be kind of okay. But we'd still have too much food. But if it were only as busy as the other days, we'd have a whole lot of food and waste on our hands. We'd have wasted a lot of money.
Dream #5
It was probably a fresh, crisp morning. I was out walking around some place like a small town or a college town or campus, leading a small group of new students in some kind of orientation program. Everybody seemed cheerful and relaxed, even though I think we had gotten to some place where I really didn't know where I was going. We were walking along some grey flagstone path in between some large lawns, at the end of which were large, stately buildings.
A group of guys came walking our way from the other direction. They were all a lot taller and stronger than I. One of the guys, a black man with a shaved head, asked if we knew where we were going. I probably walked up to the guy and mumble-whispered something like, "I don't know where we're going. Do you think you could show us the way -- but without letting on that I don't know what I'm doing?"
We stood before a black iron gate (on my right side) that was hinged on either side with a maybe 2 meter tall stone post. The gate was already partly open. The man opened the gate the rest of the way for us. We all cheerfully walked in. After the gate was a flagstone path that led directly up to one of the big, stately buildings.
The man pointed out a stack of textbooks on the right side of the flagstone path. The top book may have had a yellow cover. The book may have been a mathematics textbook.
The man said, "I think somebody left their textbooks on the path." I knew that this was the way the man was justifying having given me directions for where to go. If he opened the gate and pointed out the books, it would just look like he was pointing out the books, not pointing out the direction I was supposed to take.
I may have replied that the person who owned these books (maybe some female student?) wasn't here, but that I'd make sure to get the books to her. I probably went to pick the books up.
Dream #6
It was morning. I was out with some young, black man on a road, probably in a neighborhood full of fenced parking lots and warehouses. It may have been like I was going to work. It may have been a hot, kind of smoggy morning. The sky was a sour yellow, with the sun just coming up over the horizon.
There were a decent amount of cars in the street, all heading to some warehouse yard to start work. The boy and I seemed to be in a hurry, even though I don't think either of us was too keen to start work.
The boy suddenly had an idea that to get to work quicker we could "hitch a ride." But this hitching a ride didn't necessarily mean getting permission to ride with somebody and getting into their car. The boy told me, "Come on!" He ran up to some van that may have been full of young people, like college students or recent college graduates in something like an intern program. The boy seemed just to jump onto the back or the side of the van and hold on as the van drove away.
I knew that the boy was doing this less because he was in a hurry to get to work and more because he simply didn't feel like walking the rest of the way to work. But I was in a hurry to get to work, and, even though I didn't like the boy's idea, I thought it seemed smart enough that I'd better do it. So I jumped onto a van, possibly not the same van as the boy had jumped onto.
But as I was jumping onto the van I noticed that at one intersection, at which we had just turned left, there was so much traffic that everything had come to a standstill. I was now somehow inside the van. All the young people seemed to make me feel welcome. There may have been a pretty, little, skinny white girl with big, blue-green eyes and her brown hair back in a loose ponytail.
At some point I may have decided that it would be easier just to get out and walk. But suddenly an accident occurred. We'd been moving forward, when we'd hit my friend who'd jumped on the other van. Apparently he'd gotten off the van -- maybe he'd been thrown off of it. But we'd actually driven right over him. It was obvious that he was dead -- crushed. But I didn't want to believe it.
I think I'd gotten out of the van I was in, as if that would reverse my friend's death. I was walking to work. But then at some point I was driving in a car -- a yellow taxi-cab, actually -- with my mom. My mom was driving. I sat in the front passenger seat.
We turned right and drove through an open gate. We were heading along a wide road through a wide lawn. Up ahead was a big, stately building, like a college building. But I looked up ahead and to my left and saw that there were people out here training to be astronauts. Some people may even have been wearing full astronaut outfits for spacewalks.
Suddenly, from nearby, on the left side of the road, there were two people: a boy and a girl. I'm not sure what happened to the boy. He may simply have run off into the field. But the girl ran directly in front of our car. My mom had to step on the breaks really quickly. Even then we barely missed hitting the girl.
The girl was a beautiful, tall, skinny, black girl with long, loosely curly, black hair. She wore a schoolgirl's outfit, with a tartan skirt and overall-blouse and a white button-up shirt. But she was a college student, or at least preparing to become a college student.
The girl looked terribly panicked. She gave me and my mom a look, like she knew she'd forced us to stop, but that she'd had to do it. She quickly ran around to the back passenger side of the car and got in. My mom had the understanding that we needed to just keep driving and get the girl to the same place as we were going.
The girl said, in an ominous tone, "I really feel sorry for you guys." I could tell that the girl knew something bad that was possibly going to happen to me and my mom. It probably had something to do with the young man who got hit by the van. But it was also connected to the girl in some way, like whatever the girl was trying to escape was whatever was coming after me and my mom, too.
I asked the girl, "What do you mean, you feel sorry for us?" I looked in the rearview mirror at the girl. I could tell the girl was too distressed to talk. I asked, "Do you just not want to tell me right now?" The girl pursed her lips in fear and shook her head. She may have been clutching a teddy bear tightly in her arms.
Dream #7
I was in some place like a Starbucks. But it was much larger than a normal Starbucks. The cashier's counter was also set at some strange angle to the rest of the store. The area around the counter was set up in a cluttered kind of way, too, with the glass display cases set at odd angles to the counter. And, behind a door behind the counter was, apparently, a really big food prep area, like this place was actually a restaurant rather than a cafe or a Starbucks.
I had ordered and had been sitting down. But now I'd stood up and come back to the counter. I may have been planning to leave. But the man behind the counter, a tall, kind of muscular black man with a bit of a feminine attitude, had either given me or sold me some extra items, so that now I felt like I should stay at the cafe to finish my items. This probably wasn't so bad, as I probably had stuff I wanted to read or write.
But now the man offered me even more food. This time it was some kind of cupcakes with a thick layer of pale brown chocolate frosting. The cupcakes looked really good. But I knew I probably shouldn't have them. But the man told me to take one.
There was some woman behind me and just to my right now. She may have been with me.
I told the man that I really couldn't take anything else. I'd probably had enough with the first stuff I'd gotten. With the second batch of stuff the guy had given me, I probably had too much. The cupcakes would make it way too much.
I was about to walk away. But now the man brought out a huge tray of some kind of sweet breads that were coated in some kind of sweet syrup. The man told me something like, "Now, you really can't resist these."
I was actually going to try and resist them. But the man actually told me something weird, like, if I didn't take one of these little cakes with me, he was going to tell everybody some dirty,little secret of mine. So I decided to take one of the cakes. They actually did look really, really good. And now I was even tempted to take one of the cupcakes with the chocolate frosting, too. I really did want to know how that frosting tasted.
*****
Update -- you can find info on images I think are related to this dream (and some others) in this entry of my dream-day blog.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
space flight delays; girl's tuxedo; dropped phone on face
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was flying around in some craft with probably three other people. I think the craft was a spacecraft, possibly even a space capsule. We may already have gone up into space. We were now flying the craft around, maybe a few thousand meters above desert-mountain landscapes, like the craft was a small plane. Then we landed.
On the ground, probably standing somewhere near the tarmac, I was disappointed in myself. I may have felt like my role in the mission had been almost nothing. I may have felt like people had given me nothing to do. Or I may have felt like I had been too lazy to do anything. I may also have felt like my fear at some point during the mission had ruined some kind of mood for the people around me. Maybe my fear had been during the landing. Or maybe my fear had caused an early landing.
I watched an SR-71 Blackbird come out of the sky. I knew the Blackbird was practicing landings. The plane looked a bit flatter and more brittle than a usual Blackbird, and it had a bit of a milky-bluish tint to its black body. The landing was executed, I knew, almost perfectly. I really admired it as I watched it land and then coast down the runway. But I felt anxiety as I watched it coast away, like I couldn't be actually sure it would come to a complete stop before crashing into something.
I was now in a basement of some building which seems to me now like a hospital. I was in a room full of old scientific equipment: box-shaped monitoring equipment with knobs on the front and cords coming out and so forth, all stacked up on various shelves along the walls. There may also have been some bigger pieces of equipment, almost like dentist chairs or x-ray machines, in the room.
I walked into the hallway. The hallway was kind of cluttered, too. The rest of my crew was somewhere around here. We were all getting ready for a space flight, maybe a flight on a space shuttle. But something about the space flight had been delayed. Somewhere I could see the back end of a rocket booster. It looked really small, and it appeared to be stuffed full of tissue paper.
Some man came up to me. He was tall and strong, and he was carrying an iPad around with him. He was apparently my supervisor. He was trying to find some way to keep me from going on this mission. I'm not sure why. He almost seemed like an Adult Baby Daddy to me. I think he just wanted to keep me from going on the mission because he wanted to keep me from doing anything adult-like.
But there were, I now knew, two flights taking place. The one that had been delayed was the one my supervisor was trying to keep me out of. But there was another one that would take place after that. I had already somehow gotten in contact with my crew members. We had all worked together to set things up so that I could look like I wasn't going on any flights at all when the first flight went off. But I could then sneak into the second flight.
Dream #2
I was in a department store, probably with my mom and a few other people. We were looking around in the girls' clothing section. The floors and walls of the store were white, and the store was filled with a white, fluorescent light.
I stood in front of one rack with my mom. My mom stood to my right. My mom told me I could get any outfit of clothes that I wanted. I looked through the girls' clothes, wanting to get a really pretty outfit. I found an outfit I thought I'd like. I tried it on right then and there.
I could see what it was once I put it on. It was like black dress pants, a black jacket, and some kind of layered, cream-white shirt. The shirt seemed to be of a satiny fabric on the outer layers. But on the inner layers it was a soft fabric, maybe like cashmere.
I wanted to see how I looked. But I didn't want to walk too far around in the store and have other people see me. I saw a mirror attached to a column a couple racks away from where I stood. The column was wide, and the mirror was maybe 250cm tall and 150cm wide.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I don't think I saw my face. My suit looked like a tuxedo. Nothing looked feminine about it except the way that the shirt created this kind of layered v-like pattern along my chest. But my "shoes" were also feminine. They actually were just these big, cream-white, satiny bows attached to the tops of my feet.
I could tell that under this tuxedo, I was actually wearing a dress that looked quite feminine. But I was afraid enough to be around people in public wearing this tuxedo-like outfit. I'd be even more afraid to wear the dress in front of everybody.
As I walked back to the rack, I had an image in my head of a twelve-year-old girl. She had dark olive-colored skin, big, round, brown eyes, and frizzy, blonde and black hair. She wore a tight, blue and green tie-dyed tank top and tight blue jeans. This young girl was really sexy to me. I was hoping she'd come into my life and hit on me.
I was back at the rack, again with my mom standing at my right. I was now reluctant even to have my mother look at me. I didn't want her to know that I liked wearing women's or girls' clothing. And I didn't want her to buy any women's or girls' clothing for me. I felt like if she acted on the idea that I was a transvestite, our relationship would get too embarrassing. The part of me I really didn't want my mom to see were my shoes.
Off to my left I saw a Hispanic family walk up to the girls' clothing section. It looked like a dad, a mom, and two younger children. But I wondered if the twelve-year-old girl I'd fantasized about just a moment ago would be part of this family. I thought that if she was I shouldn't do anything anyway. I wouldn't want to get in trouble with the girl's family. I also didn't want the family to see me as I was, dressed up in girls' clothing. Again, I especially didn't want them to see me in these shoes.
Dream #3
I was in a big vehicle like an SUV, riding through some area like a complex full of tall, wide, sheet-metal-walled warehouses. It was daytime. I was with a whole group of people. I'm not sure exactly where I was sitting. Sometimes I felt like I was in the front seat. Other times I felt like I was in the backseat. I think I always felt like I was on the passenger side.
One of the people I was with was this young guy. He was maybe twenty-five years old. He was tallish, slim, with olive-colored skin and short, curly, black hair. He wore big, black sunglasses and a smallish, pale-blue (?) t-shirt.
It was understood that the guy had a cut or a number of cuts on his face (although these cuts may not have been visible). I'd asked the guy how this had happened. But the guy was too embarrassed to answer. He was trying to make me feel like I shouldn't ask anymore questions. But I needed to know what was going on. The guy had a tendency to overwork himself and injure himself. I wanted to make sure he wasn't doing it again.
So I pushed the guy to answer me. Finally he said, "I made a deal with myself last night that I wouldn't answer my cell phone after midnight. That way I could get some sleep. But I was in bed and I checked my phone at 11:56. There was something on it, so I thought I should take care of it. But I must have fallen asleep as I was doing that. When I fell asleep, I dropped the phone right on my face."
I said, "Oh!.... Oh, no...," like a caring mother would when she wanted to sympathize with her child after he got hurt, yet she also couldn't help seeing a bit of humor in the situation.
I could see the phone in my mind's eye. It was a huge and clunky, as tall as a landline phone's receiver. It had a huge, black antenna coming out of its top. It had a shiny, black face and a dull, grey casing. I imagined the young man dropping the phone on the bridge of his nose, causing a kind of deep gash.
Dream #1
I was flying around in some craft with probably three other people. I think the craft was a spacecraft, possibly even a space capsule. We may already have gone up into space. We were now flying the craft around, maybe a few thousand meters above desert-mountain landscapes, like the craft was a small plane. Then we landed.
On the ground, probably standing somewhere near the tarmac, I was disappointed in myself. I may have felt like my role in the mission had been almost nothing. I may have felt like people had given me nothing to do. Or I may have felt like I had been too lazy to do anything. I may also have felt like my fear at some point during the mission had ruined some kind of mood for the people around me. Maybe my fear had been during the landing. Or maybe my fear had caused an early landing.
I watched an SR-71 Blackbird come out of the sky. I knew the Blackbird was practicing landings. The plane looked a bit flatter and more brittle than a usual Blackbird, and it had a bit of a milky-bluish tint to its black body. The landing was executed, I knew, almost perfectly. I really admired it as I watched it land and then coast down the runway. But I felt anxiety as I watched it coast away, like I couldn't be actually sure it would come to a complete stop before crashing into something.
I was now in a basement of some building which seems to me now like a hospital. I was in a room full of old scientific equipment: box-shaped monitoring equipment with knobs on the front and cords coming out and so forth, all stacked up on various shelves along the walls. There may also have been some bigger pieces of equipment, almost like dentist chairs or x-ray machines, in the room.
I walked into the hallway. The hallway was kind of cluttered, too. The rest of my crew was somewhere around here. We were all getting ready for a space flight, maybe a flight on a space shuttle. But something about the space flight had been delayed. Somewhere I could see the back end of a rocket booster. It looked really small, and it appeared to be stuffed full of tissue paper.
Some man came up to me. He was tall and strong, and he was carrying an iPad around with him. He was apparently my supervisor. He was trying to find some way to keep me from going on this mission. I'm not sure why. He almost seemed like an Adult Baby Daddy to me. I think he just wanted to keep me from going on the mission because he wanted to keep me from doing anything adult-like.
But there were, I now knew, two flights taking place. The one that had been delayed was the one my supervisor was trying to keep me out of. But there was another one that would take place after that. I had already somehow gotten in contact with my crew members. We had all worked together to set things up so that I could look like I wasn't going on any flights at all when the first flight went off. But I could then sneak into the second flight.
Dream #2
I was in a department store, probably with my mom and a few other people. We were looking around in the girls' clothing section. The floors and walls of the store were white, and the store was filled with a white, fluorescent light.
I stood in front of one rack with my mom. My mom stood to my right. My mom told me I could get any outfit of clothes that I wanted. I looked through the girls' clothes, wanting to get a really pretty outfit. I found an outfit I thought I'd like. I tried it on right then and there.
I could see what it was once I put it on. It was like black dress pants, a black jacket, and some kind of layered, cream-white shirt. The shirt seemed to be of a satiny fabric on the outer layers. But on the inner layers it was a soft fabric, maybe like cashmere.
I wanted to see how I looked. But I didn't want to walk too far around in the store and have other people see me. I saw a mirror attached to a column a couple racks away from where I stood. The column was wide, and the mirror was maybe 250cm tall and 150cm wide.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I don't think I saw my face. My suit looked like a tuxedo. Nothing looked feminine about it except the way that the shirt created this kind of layered v-like pattern along my chest. But my "shoes" were also feminine. They actually were just these big, cream-white, satiny bows attached to the tops of my feet.
I could tell that under this tuxedo, I was actually wearing a dress that looked quite feminine. But I was afraid enough to be around people in public wearing this tuxedo-like outfit. I'd be even more afraid to wear the dress in front of everybody.
As I walked back to the rack, I had an image in my head of a twelve-year-old girl. She had dark olive-colored skin, big, round, brown eyes, and frizzy, blonde and black hair. She wore a tight, blue and green tie-dyed tank top and tight blue jeans. This young girl was really sexy to me. I was hoping she'd come into my life and hit on me.
I was back at the rack, again with my mom standing at my right. I was now reluctant even to have my mother look at me. I didn't want her to know that I liked wearing women's or girls' clothing. And I didn't want her to buy any women's or girls' clothing for me. I felt like if she acted on the idea that I was a transvestite, our relationship would get too embarrassing. The part of me I really didn't want my mom to see were my shoes.
Off to my left I saw a Hispanic family walk up to the girls' clothing section. It looked like a dad, a mom, and two younger children. But I wondered if the twelve-year-old girl I'd fantasized about just a moment ago would be part of this family. I thought that if she was I shouldn't do anything anyway. I wouldn't want to get in trouble with the girl's family. I also didn't want the family to see me as I was, dressed up in girls' clothing. Again, I especially didn't want them to see me in these shoes.
Dream #3
I was in a big vehicle like an SUV, riding through some area like a complex full of tall, wide, sheet-metal-walled warehouses. It was daytime. I was with a whole group of people. I'm not sure exactly where I was sitting. Sometimes I felt like I was in the front seat. Other times I felt like I was in the backseat. I think I always felt like I was on the passenger side.
One of the people I was with was this young guy. He was maybe twenty-five years old. He was tallish, slim, with olive-colored skin and short, curly, black hair. He wore big, black sunglasses and a smallish, pale-blue (?) t-shirt.
It was understood that the guy had a cut or a number of cuts on his face (although these cuts may not have been visible). I'd asked the guy how this had happened. But the guy was too embarrassed to answer. He was trying to make me feel like I shouldn't ask anymore questions. But I needed to know what was going on. The guy had a tendency to overwork himself and injure himself. I wanted to make sure he wasn't doing it again.
So I pushed the guy to answer me. Finally he said, "I made a deal with myself last night that I wouldn't answer my cell phone after midnight. That way I could get some sleep. But I was in bed and I checked my phone at 11:56. There was something on it, so I thought I should take care of it. But I must have fallen asleep as I was doing that. When I fell asleep, I dropped the phone right on my face."
I said, "Oh!.... Oh, no...," like a caring mother would when she wanted to sympathize with her child after he got hurt, yet she also couldn't help seeing a bit of humor in the situation.
I could see the phone in my mind's eye. It was a huge and clunky, as tall as a landline phone's receiver. It had a huge, black antenna coming out of its top. It had a shiny, black face and a dull, grey casing. I imagined the young man dropping the phone on the bridge of his nose, causing a kind of deep gash.
Sunday, May 6, 2012
whose DVD player?
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was in a living room with some members of my family. The living room was small, kind of dim, and kind of cluttered. I sat on the carpeted floor, probably with my back propped against the foot of the couch. My sister probably sat on the couch, near my left shoulder.
My mom's best friend CM came into the room from some small hallway off to my right. She stopped and stood near some kind of cluttered frame of red-painted, metal tubing, like a frame made of a bunch of chair-frames all welded together and crammed full of old household clutter.
CM held a red electronic device in her hands. It was apparently a portable DVD player. CM asked, "Do you know whose this is?"
I told CM that the DVD player was my sister's. In fact, my sister had been looking for the DVD player just recently. But CM said something about how where she'd found the DVD player or what disc she'd found in the DVD player had led her to believe that the DVD player wasn't actually my sister's.
My sister seemed indifferent to the fact that the DVD player had been found. But she said, "Look! If he says that that's my DVD player, then it's mine! You need to listen when he tells you things."
CM possibly didn't hand me the DVD player, but she held it close enough so that I could see it. It was colored red, like an old amusement park ride, maybe even with sparkly flecks in the red. But it looked broken. Some part of the front casing was broken off, possibly the part where the DVD was held. And the casing for the batteries (AA batteries) was gone, too.
Either my youngest or my second youngest nephew came to sit down next to me. We may both have been under blankets. My nephew made up some kind of excuse for why he needed to lay by me. He was afraid -- as he'd probably be IWL -- that I would ask him not to be so close to me. But I recognized that, and I told him he was fine laying by me.
But now I realized I had left my phone plugged in off to my right, near the metal frame-thing. I wanted to have my phone near me, just in case. But I didn't want to ask my nephew to move, now that he was comfortable with me. We were both basically laying down by now. And I didn't want to make too big a deal about missing my phone, because I didn't want someone else to grab it for me -- just in case I'd left something shameful on the front screen.
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