Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was in some big building like a convention center. I had been part of an event that had just finished. During that event, NASA Administrator Charles Bolden had been speaking with me, possibly about an event that would follow the event of which I had been a part.
But now that Bolden's event was about to begin, I had an idea for it. The idea involved questionnaire sheets that were already made for use at the event. But something about them was not being used -- maybe something that could contribute to on-the-spot additions to presentations.
I needed to find Bolden again, so I could ask permission to put the idea into action. I may have been standing with some people, possibly my family members, including my mother and brother. I asked permission to leave them.
I was up on some mezzanine or balcony level. I saw Bolden walking toward a door at the end of the mezzanine. I ran toward him. I caught up with him. I believe I called him Mr. Bolden, although I may have called him General Bolden.
I began explaining my idea to Bolden when suddenly my brother ran up. It was like he also had an idea he wanted Bolden to approve. But he was acting really weird. At one point he stood next to Bolden and got down on his knees, crying and making a praying gesture toward me. This was all for show. I'm not sure my brother's idea ever got expressed.
Eventually Bolden asked my brother to calm down. My brother may have walked away. Bolden told me I could do what I wanted, and that the presentation area was just getting prepared right now.
I walked into the presentation area. The room was dark. The only light was coming from a PowerPoint presentation projected up onto a huge screen. The slide projected was plain white with black letters.There were people working on some technical stuff over by the podium, on the right side of the room. Someone was at the podium, testing the microphone. There also seemed to be, right below the screen, a stage-like area where there were a bunch of gifts and food items. The audience was full.
I knew the questionnaire papers were in the podium on the right side of the room. I was on the left side of the room. I needed to get over to the podium. I didn't want to distract anybody in the audience -- as if the show had already begun, even thought it hadn't. So I got down on my stomach and crawled across the room, hoping to avoid everybody's sight.
But as I crawled across the room, the presentation actually began. I knew I'd have a hard time grabbing the questionnaire sheets right in front of everybody. But I decided that I needed to get them, regardless of what was going on in the presentation.
The current speaker was giving a sort of introduction for the main person who would be speaking. This person was actually an executive from Kraft. But I'm not sure who it was. The current speaker then said that someone else would be up soon to give a fuller introduction to the speaker. The current speaker, I knew, expected me to be the person to give the fuller introduction.
I was almost to the podium, which was now empty and waiting for me. I knew everybody was expecting me to speak. I had to stand up and give my introduction. If I couldn't give this introduction, it would prove that I really didn't know anything about the management structure at Kraft, and that I wasn't very smart at all.
I tried to think of the management at Kraft. I knew Kraft's CEO, Irene Rosenfeld, wasn't going to speak. I was pretty sure that Tim McLevish was still the CFO at Kraft. So I figured McLevish must be the one who was going to speak. I tried to think of the things I knew about McLevish.
But now the Kraft executive was already giving his presentation. I was crawling around on the ground and looking up at the screen. The executive was talking about the steps Kraft had taken to improve efficiency. This improvement in efficiency was, I believe, later on going to be translated into a program that might help improve efficiency in space exploration.
The Kraft initiative was very thorough. A lot of key thinkers from around the world were brought in to assess ways to improve efficiency in all personal, business, and technological aspects of the company. A list of people, with their titles and places of work, scrolled up the screen in white lettering over a backdrop of tree-covered mountains in the fall.
I was surprised to see that one of these key thinkers was the psychologist Karen Horney, who was apparently working somewhere in Virginia. Horney had come in to improve the psychological aspects of the company.
The Kraft executive gave himself as an example where his psychological condition needed improving. He said that it had especially needed improvement after he'd been diagnosed with some disease like cancer. The Kraft executive now began speaking about this disease, and how he was still uncertain whether he would leave the company because of it. He was thinking he might not. It seemed like he had battled the disease to a turning point, and that he was now getting better. He may have given a story about a turnaround in company operations and how it directly related to him to prove this point.
My mind now began to wander again to what I might say about Tim McLevish. I began thinking back to 2008 and 2009, trying to consider all the changes that had taken place at Kraft before, during, and since that time period, and to determine what role McLevish played in those changes. But I wasn't coming up with anything at all, other than a kind of broad statement about the company's stock price.
Showing posts with label stock market. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stock market. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
space mall; battery spider; threatening a bad decision; upskirt exposure; buenos aires road sign; les galans
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was riding in a car, on the passenger side, either in the front or back seat. I was looking out the window and up at the sky. The sky was deep blue. In my mind's eye (I think) I saw a pink, buzzing image superimposed over the sky. I also heard, like in narration, a woman's voice telling me that, at the place where I was going, all my needs and desires were anticipated and provided for.
I was now watching myself head down a long escalator inside a mall. I saw everything from a very high angle, as if part of me were outside my body, watching my body from some high up floor in the building.
Once I reached the bottom of the escalator (which was blocked off by a set of pylons and poles, like the escalator was under construction), a robot greeted me. The robot had a basic human shape, but it was featureless. All the components of its body were like bubbles or capsules. It had a dull gold color. The robot led me away. Somehow I knew this place was called the "space mall," that it was a mall in outer space, and that it had everything I needed.
Dream #2
I was in "my bedroom." I apparently had a big, brown blanket that I lay down on whenever I would do my drawings, like the drawings I do as illustrations for my dreams. The blanket was folded up. I unfolded it. The surface of the blanket was covered with junk, garbage, and grainy stuff, probably sand. I was disgusted and a little ashamed. How could I have let my drawing blanket become like this?
I tried to clean it off. But now I saw what I thought was a bug. I had to look at it more carefully. It was actually a Duracell AA battery. It seemed to be moving about on its own. But each time it would move, the copper-top part of it would distort a little, like it was malleable and there was a spider inside, trying to poke out of it.
I was convinced that the battery was a bug. I tried to smash it. That's when I saw that there was actually a spider behind the battery. It looked like a normal house spider. But apparently it took batteries and stacked them up to create a little home for itself. It was trying to push the battery away right now.
I watched the spider push the battery again. Whenever the battery moved, its top would distort, as if the spider were inside it. There were a number of batteries on the blanket. I'm not sure whether there were other spiders. I think there may have been.
Dream #3
I was in front of some house with my mom and possibly my sister and a couple other family members. The house may have been my great aunt's house. There were some tall, well-trimmed shrubs in front of the porch to the house. My mom and I stood in a little space between two shrubs.
We'd been having some kind of argument. I was floating in the air. My mom may also have been floating. Either I or my mom was holding an empty kraft paper box in our hands, like a box the old blocks of food-assistance cheese would come in. We both may have been carrying a box.
My mom was now really angry with me. To spite me, she told me that she knew I'd made bad stock market decisions in my life, so I shouldn't think I was so smart. My mom's statement had shocked and shamed me, just like my mom had wanted. So now she walked away.
I was descending very slowly while thinking about what my mom had said. Of course I'd made bad stock choices in my life. But my mom was talking about one particular decision, and that had made me upset. But I suddenly found a way to make myself feel less bad about that decision. I told myself that G, one of my old clients, had either made the exact same mistake or had suggested that I make the decision I'd made. And he was a smart guy. So why should I feel stupid about my mistake?
I had finally descended to the ground. I charged away, trying to find my mother so that I could respond to her with what I'd remembered. All this time I had the image of my old boss BB in the back of my head.
I was now in a grocery store. I was in the far back, far right corner of the store (as one would face the front of the store). Or -- I may have been in the far back, toward the center of the store. The grocery store was huge, like a Walmart. But it felt old and worn-out. There was barely anybody in the store. And all the lights may have been off, so that there was only a dimmish, yellow-grey light coming from the window walls at the front of the store.
I now told myself that my mom always used to do stuff like this to me when I was young. When she did something I thought I should criticize, I would. Then she'd get angry at me and shout out mean things about me personally to make me ashamed of myself. (I don't think this is necessarily true in waking life.) She was doing the same thing to me now. I told myself to guard myself against this and not to let it bother me.
But I now had an idea. I'd say something to my mom that would really hurt her! I was standing in the laundry detergent aisle of the store, still holding the empty cheese box in my hands, probably cuddling it up to my chest. I knew my mom was sitting at some little dining area right at the front of the store. I ran to the front of the store and found my mom sitting at a booth table with red seats and a white table top.
I jumped into the booth seat across from her. I then leaned over the table and whispered in my mom's ear, "I'm either going to move back to New York or I'm going to kill myself." I backed down into my seat and laughed a little.
But suddenly I felt stupid for what I'd said. Of course, I hadn't meant any of it. And, how was it supposed to hurt my mom? There was no way I could get back to New York, even though I missed the place terribly. And by threatening my own life in front of somebody, I risked getting thrown into a hospital.
Dream #4
I was in a bedroom with my ex-girlfriend H. H was wearing a long skirt. The bedroom was really small and tight, and I was sitting on the bed. Suddenly H lay, stomach down, over my lap, like she was expecting to get a spanking.
Just as suddenly, the bedroom door flew open, and a gust of wind blew H's skirt all the way up. H wasn't wearing any underwear, and her bottom (which was kind of huge) was in full view. A few small boys wearing baseball caps stood looking into the room. I was either trying to think of a way to close the door on them or hoping that they'd just go away and forget what they'd seen.
Dream #5
It was a grey day. My brother and I were standing out on a huge street that was a part of an enormous crossing of highways. We stood on one of the ground-level roads. But there were three or four levels of roads on winding, twisting bridges above us. The streets were all either empty or else so quiet that we weren't worried about standing out in the middle of the road.
My brother and I were down in South America. We were actually citizens of some South American country. But somehow we'd gotten our location all confused. We were now trying to get back home. I, in particular, was a bit upset. We were in one country (Venezuela?) when we were trying to get to another country (Argentina?), and I was mad at the first country, like it was the entire country's fault that I was inside of it.
So, in spite, I started throwing black pebbles at a street sign. The street sign was just one long, horizontal green strip with white writing on it (like a United States street sign). It said "Buenos Aires - 3," even though I'm pretty sure we weren't in Argentina.
I started to have the idea that if I could throw the black pebbles hard enough at the sign, they'd actually pierce the sign. This would create a dimensional hole. I could then travel through the dimensional hole to get back to my correct country. I think my brother caught onto this idea. He started throwing pebbles, too.
But now we were in the living room of my current apartment (or some place pretty close to it). The Buenos Aires sign was still in front of us, and we were still throwing pebbles at it, still trying to break through into another dimension. But we'd run out of black pebbles. I looked at the floor. There were a lot of big rocks. I may have been uncertain of whether rocks would work. Then I thought, Well, they must work. They're bigger than the pebbles. They'll burst right through the sign!
Dream #6
I was sitting on a couch in a living room. The living room was actually like two living rooms set side by side. I sat in the living room that was farther back from the front door. Other than the couch, there was little or no furniture in this room.
A few kids started playing around in the room. There may have been an older girl or a young woman playing with a little girl. But somehow I got the responsibility of taking care of the little girl. I didn't mind this -- in fact, I thought I was better at taking care of the little girl than anyone else could have been.
The little girl sat down beside me on the couch. We were watching another set of little kids playing. Most of the kids were boys, but there may have been one girl. The girl seemed to be really delicate. But somehow I managed to do something to make the little girl feel good about herself.
The boys had run off to play something else. The little girl was either there or not there. It may have been like -- somehow -- she'd joined together with the little girl who was sitting on the couch. The little girl on the couch was maybe three years old. But now she complimented me on the way I dealt with children. She spoke like an adult. Even her vocal intonations were mature.
I wasn't amazed. I think I was seeing the little girl as a little girl but reacting to her as if she were an adult, like a high-up business woman whom I was trying to impress. I told the little girl, "Well, you know, it' no big deal. What my philosophy is, is treat kids like adults. Assume that they can understand everything an adult can understand. And they'll be thankful to you for it. They'll feel better about themselves because they'll feel like they're more in control of their own lives."
The little girl and I were both sitting on one of the short ends of the couch, as if the couch no longer had any arms! My knees were almost touching a small table with a lamp on it. The little girl and I both seemed to be geared up for an interesting conversation. But now my mom walked up from the other living room. She'd said something to the little girl which kind of reinforced the fact that my mom, and not I, was taking care of the little girl.
The little girl (whom I now may occasionally have seen as a young woman, attractive, with copper-colored skin and raven-black hair) tried to compromise with my mom by trying to combine my conversation with the conversation my mom had started. The little girl said, "That makes me think, maybe we should go to the video store and check out that French film, Les Galans, and that other film, -----."
My mom was still in the other living room. On the right wall (my right) was an entertainment center. On the left wall were a couch and some other pieces of furniture. My mom stood at an end table near us and rifled through a big pile of clutter. She said, "Nope. We can't do that. We can't go to the video store anymore. We still have a video of theirs."
My mom pulled a video cassette case out of the pile of clutter and held it before our faces. The case looked like it was from Blockbuster Video. But the front of it was a design for the front of the original case for a video cassette. The movie the case was for was some kind of anime. A pretty, blonde girl stood in front of some city scene. The girl may also have been standing by her car, a sleek, red sports car.
The little girl/young woman asked, "Can't we just take that video back and pick up a new one?"
My mom said, "No. This video was checked out by ---- (some young woman who was apparently a friend of the family). But she left today. She ----- (either moved away permanently or went away for a few days?) just this morning."
The little girl/young woman said, "Oh... So we can't do anything with that card without ----- being here. I see."
***
UPDATE: A discussion of some of the images from these dreams can be found at this entry in my dreamday journal.
UPDATE 2: Added drawings to dream #5 and dream #6, August 1, 2012, 2:43 PM, Mountain Standard Time.
Dream #1
I was riding in a car, on the passenger side, either in the front or back seat. I was looking out the window and up at the sky. The sky was deep blue. In my mind's eye (I think) I saw a pink, buzzing image superimposed over the sky. I also heard, like in narration, a woman's voice telling me that, at the place where I was going, all my needs and desires were anticipated and provided for.
I was now watching myself head down a long escalator inside a mall. I saw everything from a very high angle, as if part of me were outside my body, watching my body from some high up floor in the building.
Once I reached the bottom of the escalator (which was blocked off by a set of pylons and poles, like the escalator was under construction), a robot greeted me. The robot had a basic human shape, but it was featureless. All the components of its body were like bubbles or capsules. It had a dull gold color. The robot led me away. Somehow I knew this place was called the "space mall," that it was a mall in outer space, and that it had everything I needed.
Dream #2
I was in "my bedroom." I apparently had a big, brown blanket that I lay down on whenever I would do my drawings, like the drawings I do as illustrations for my dreams. The blanket was folded up. I unfolded it. The surface of the blanket was covered with junk, garbage, and grainy stuff, probably sand. I was disgusted and a little ashamed. How could I have let my drawing blanket become like this?
I tried to clean it off. But now I saw what I thought was a bug. I had to look at it more carefully. It was actually a Duracell AA battery. It seemed to be moving about on its own. But each time it would move, the copper-top part of it would distort a little, like it was malleable and there was a spider inside, trying to poke out of it.
I was convinced that the battery was a bug. I tried to smash it. That's when I saw that there was actually a spider behind the battery. It looked like a normal house spider. But apparently it took batteries and stacked them up to create a little home for itself. It was trying to push the battery away right now.
I watched the spider push the battery again. Whenever the battery moved, its top would distort, as if the spider were inside it. There were a number of batteries on the blanket. I'm not sure whether there were other spiders. I think there may have been.
Dream #3
I was in front of some house with my mom and possibly my sister and a couple other family members. The house may have been my great aunt's house. There were some tall, well-trimmed shrubs in front of the porch to the house. My mom and I stood in a little space between two shrubs.
We'd been having some kind of argument. I was floating in the air. My mom may also have been floating. Either I or my mom was holding an empty kraft paper box in our hands, like a box the old blocks of food-assistance cheese would come in. We both may have been carrying a box.
My mom was now really angry with me. To spite me, she told me that she knew I'd made bad stock market decisions in my life, so I shouldn't think I was so smart. My mom's statement had shocked and shamed me, just like my mom had wanted. So now she walked away.
I was descending very slowly while thinking about what my mom had said. Of course I'd made bad stock choices in my life. But my mom was talking about one particular decision, and that had made me upset. But I suddenly found a way to make myself feel less bad about that decision. I told myself that G, one of my old clients, had either made the exact same mistake or had suggested that I make the decision I'd made. And he was a smart guy. So why should I feel stupid about my mistake?
I had finally descended to the ground. I charged away, trying to find my mother so that I could respond to her with what I'd remembered. All this time I had the image of my old boss BB in the back of my head.
I was now in a grocery store. I was in the far back, far right corner of the store (as one would face the front of the store). Or -- I may have been in the far back, toward the center of the store. The grocery store was huge, like a Walmart. But it felt old and worn-out. There was barely anybody in the store. And all the lights may have been off, so that there was only a dimmish, yellow-grey light coming from the window walls at the front of the store.
I now told myself that my mom always used to do stuff like this to me when I was young. When she did something I thought I should criticize, I would. Then she'd get angry at me and shout out mean things about me personally to make me ashamed of myself. (I don't think this is necessarily true in waking life.) She was doing the same thing to me now. I told myself to guard myself against this and not to let it bother me.
But I now had an idea. I'd say something to my mom that would really hurt her! I was standing in the laundry detergent aisle of the store, still holding the empty cheese box in my hands, probably cuddling it up to my chest. I knew my mom was sitting at some little dining area right at the front of the store. I ran to the front of the store and found my mom sitting at a booth table with red seats and a white table top.
I jumped into the booth seat across from her. I then leaned over the table and whispered in my mom's ear, "I'm either going to move back to New York or I'm going to kill myself." I backed down into my seat and laughed a little.
But suddenly I felt stupid for what I'd said. Of course, I hadn't meant any of it. And, how was it supposed to hurt my mom? There was no way I could get back to New York, even though I missed the place terribly. And by threatening my own life in front of somebody, I risked getting thrown into a hospital.
Dream #4
I was in a bedroom with my ex-girlfriend H. H was wearing a long skirt. The bedroom was really small and tight, and I was sitting on the bed. Suddenly H lay, stomach down, over my lap, like she was expecting to get a spanking.
Just as suddenly, the bedroom door flew open, and a gust of wind blew H's skirt all the way up. H wasn't wearing any underwear, and her bottom (which was kind of huge) was in full view. A few small boys wearing baseball caps stood looking into the room. I was either trying to think of a way to close the door on them or hoping that they'd just go away and forget what they'd seen.
Dream #5
It was a grey day. My brother and I were standing out on a huge street that was a part of an enormous crossing of highways. We stood on one of the ground-level roads. But there were three or four levels of roads on winding, twisting bridges above us. The streets were all either empty or else so quiet that we weren't worried about standing out in the middle of the road.
My brother and I were down in South America. We were actually citizens of some South American country. But somehow we'd gotten our location all confused. We were now trying to get back home. I, in particular, was a bit upset. We were in one country (Venezuela?) when we were trying to get to another country (Argentina?), and I was mad at the first country, like it was the entire country's fault that I was inside of it.
So, in spite, I started throwing black pebbles at a street sign. The street sign was just one long, horizontal green strip with white writing on it (like a United States street sign). It said "Buenos Aires - 3," even though I'm pretty sure we weren't in Argentina.
I started to have the idea that if I could throw the black pebbles hard enough at the sign, they'd actually pierce the sign. This would create a dimensional hole. I could then travel through the dimensional hole to get back to my correct country. I think my brother caught onto this idea. He started throwing pebbles, too.
But now we were in the living room of my current apartment (or some place pretty close to it). The Buenos Aires sign was still in front of us, and we were still throwing pebbles at it, still trying to break through into another dimension. But we'd run out of black pebbles. I looked at the floor. There were a lot of big rocks. I may have been uncertain of whether rocks would work. Then I thought, Well, they must work. They're bigger than the pebbles. They'll burst right through the sign!
Dream #6
I was sitting on a couch in a living room. The living room was actually like two living rooms set side by side. I sat in the living room that was farther back from the front door. Other than the couch, there was little or no furniture in this room.
A few kids started playing around in the room. There may have been an older girl or a young woman playing with a little girl. But somehow I got the responsibility of taking care of the little girl. I didn't mind this -- in fact, I thought I was better at taking care of the little girl than anyone else could have been.
The little girl sat down beside me on the couch. We were watching another set of little kids playing. Most of the kids were boys, but there may have been one girl. The girl seemed to be really delicate. But somehow I managed to do something to make the little girl feel good about herself.
The boys had run off to play something else. The little girl was either there or not there. It may have been like -- somehow -- she'd joined together with the little girl who was sitting on the couch. The little girl on the couch was maybe three years old. But now she complimented me on the way I dealt with children. She spoke like an adult. Even her vocal intonations were mature.
I wasn't amazed. I think I was seeing the little girl as a little girl but reacting to her as if she were an adult, like a high-up business woman whom I was trying to impress. I told the little girl, "Well, you know, it' no big deal. What my philosophy is, is treat kids like adults. Assume that they can understand everything an adult can understand. And they'll be thankful to you for it. They'll feel better about themselves because they'll feel like they're more in control of their own lives."
The little girl and I were both sitting on one of the short ends of the couch, as if the couch no longer had any arms! My knees were almost touching a small table with a lamp on it. The little girl and I both seemed to be geared up for an interesting conversation. But now my mom walked up from the other living room. She'd said something to the little girl which kind of reinforced the fact that my mom, and not I, was taking care of the little girl.
The little girl (whom I now may occasionally have seen as a young woman, attractive, with copper-colored skin and raven-black hair) tried to compromise with my mom by trying to combine my conversation with the conversation my mom had started. The little girl said, "That makes me think, maybe we should go to the video store and check out that French film, Les Galans, and that other film, -----."
My mom was still in the other living room. On the right wall (my right) was an entertainment center. On the left wall were a couch and some other pieces of furniture. My mom stood at an end table near us and rifled through a big pile of clutter. She said, "Nope. We can't do that. We can't go to the video store anymore. We still have a video of theirs."
My mom pulled a video cassette case out of the pile of clutter and held it before our faces. The case looked like it was from Blockbuster Video. But the front of it was a design for the front of the original case for a video cassette. The movie the case was for was some kind of anime. A pretty, blonde girl stood in front of some city scene. The girl may also have been standing by her car, a sleek, red sports car.
The little girl/young woman asked, "Can't we just take that video back and pick up a new one?"
My mom said, "No. This video was checked out by ---- (some young woman who was apparently a friend of the family). But she left today. She ----- (either moved away permanently or went away for a few days?) just this morning."
The little girl/young woman said, "Oh... So we can't do anything with that card without ----- being here. I see."
***
UPDATE: A discussion of some of the images from these dreams can be found at this entry in my dreamday journal.
UPDATE 2: Added drawings to dream #5 and dream #6, August 1, 2012, 2:43 PM, Mountain Standard Time.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
little round house
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was in some place like a small cafeteria or eating area that was at the edge of a larger floor, like in some kind of school or administrative building. The floor had a wide staircase or escalator bank at the other end of it, leading upward. The floor I was on felt like the second floor. Off to my right was a door to something like a huge auditorium, even though I couldn't see it.
My co-worker KB was standing in front of me as I sat at a table. KB had been speaking with me about something. Now I was talking about one of my past jobs, and one of my old bosses, DO. We then got talking about how the housing market downturn had been predicted as early as November of 2005.
I got really excited, talking about one person who'd predicted this. I was trying to explain everything I knew. But I felt like KB was only half-listening to me or half-believing everything I was saying. I was trying to keep a focus on everything I was saying while contending with the overall atmosphere of distraction I was beginning to feel.
A group of ladies, apparently all KB's friends, came up to get KB. They took KB toward the auditorium. KB told me to come along. So I went.
We ended up in a place like a seating area before an airplane gate. KB and the ladies sat with their backs toward the window, at the last row of seats away from the window. They were all watching a TV that hung down from a lip of wall that curved all the way around the seating area in a crescent shape. For some reason I was laying curled up on the floor, facing the TV.
The TV was showing something about the history of the housing market. On the screen was a chart of something, maybe the homebuilders stock index or new housing starts. But it started somewhere in mid-2005, just perfect for demonstrating what I was talking about.
I started calling out to the ladies that if you looked, you could see how the call about November of 2005 being the top of the market was just a bit too early. The market, I showed, had gone down a bit, then bounced back up a bit, before finally plunging downward. But the ladies weren't really listening to me. They were all watching the TV.
Now the screen went from static to moving. The chart scrolled forward, moving along to show what had happened after the housing market had completely bottomed. There was apparently some sort of history the TV announcer was giving, about how there had been ups and downs. But the chart just basically kept looking flat.
The announcer may have mentioned that there had been another downturn in the market. Or he may have mentioned that there may have been an upturn in the market. The ladies listened sympathetically. But now the chart went even lower. The line of the chart now became a glowing red. It was like the line of the chart actually traveled below the axis of the chart. The red line divided into a crack, with silver-grey fading away from it. In the crack below the axis, computer-graphic houses and buildings appeared.
The announcer now spoke about people beginning to live underground. It may have been that this was actually the end times. Livfing underground may have been due to something like a nuclear attack. The chart sped along even still. But it finally reached a point, freezing, with words in the blank space of a chart, like words in an old arcade game, saying, "HOUSING AS THE END OF THE WORLD?"
But the chart was now apparently some movie. All I could see of the movie was an empty road, as if the camera had the view of a car traveling down it. One of the ladies, who was now apparently my friend, was telling me about the movie. It was some kind of cartoon-like, mystical movie. The central character was a woman who was visited in her head by spirits. The spirits all revealed themselves to the woman to different degrees.
The woman told me about one spirit that barely revealed itself at all, so that the audience hardly knew anything about it, all through the story. The movie was an adaptation of a book. I wondered what kind of forethought would need to go into writing a character that revealed very little of itself. I wondered how much more could be revealed -- on purpose, for the audience -- through implication, if the writing were planned out correctly.
The lady told me to stay and watch the rest of the movie. But I felt like I couldn't. I looked up. Parked right by my head was something like a flight attendant's cart. But it was all done up to look like some kind of beach bar, with shaggy, wooden planks, palm fronds, and so forth.
As I looked at the cart, I realized that the name of the book was Little Round House. I saw the cover of the book. It was lavender with purple dots, with a white shape in the center. There were two cartoon children facing each other. They looked like the Precious Moments children. They had their heads bowed, as if in prayer.
Something about the weirdly quaint attitude of this book's cover made me want to stay and watch the movie. I wanted to see how something that started out so normal could end up being as weird as to include the imagery on the front of the book. But I still felt like I needed to go. So I probably wasn't going to watch the movie.
Dream #1
I was in some place like a small cafeteria or eating area that was at the edge of a larger floor, like in some kind of school or administrative building. The floor had a wide staircase or escalator bank at the other end of it, leading upward. The floor I was on felt like the second floor. Off to my right was a door to something like a huge auditorium, even though I couldn't see it.
My co-worker KB was standing in front of me as I sat at a table. KB had been speaking with me about something. Now I was talking about one of my past jobs, and one of my old bosses, DO. We then got talking about how the housing market downturn had been predicted as early as November of 2005.
I got really excited, talking about one person who'd predicted this. I was trying to explain everything I knew. But I felt like KB was only half-listening to me or half-believing everything I was saying. I was trying to keep a focus on everything I was saying while contending with the overall atmosphere of distraction I was beginning to feel.
A group of ladies, apparently all KB's friends, came up to get KB. They took KB toward the auditorium. KB told me to come along. So I went.
We ended up in a place like a seating area before an airplane gate. KB and the ladies sat with their backs toward the window, at the last row of seats away from the window. They were all watching a TV that hung down from a lip of wall that curved all the way around the seating area in a crescent shape. For some reason I was laying curled up on the floor, facing the TV.
The TV was showing something about the history of the housing market. On the screen was a chart of something, maybe the homebuilders stock index or new housing starts. But it started somewhere in mid-2005, just perfect for demonstrating what I was talking about.
I started calling out to the ladies that if you looked, you could see how the call about November of 2005 being the top of the market was just a bit too early. The market, I showed, had gone down a bit, then bounced back up a bit, before finally plunging downward. But the ladies weren't really listening to me. They were all watching the TV.
Now the screen went from static to moving. The chart scrolled forward, moving along to show what had happened after the housing market had completely bottomed. There was apparently some sort of history the TV announcer was giving, about how there had been ups and downs. But the chart just basically kept looking flat.
The announcer may have mentioned that there had been another downturn in the market. Or he may have mentioned that there may have been an upturn in the market. The ladies listened sympathetically. But now the chart went even lower. The line of the chart now became a glowing red. It was like the line of the chart actually traveled below the axis of the chart. The red line divided into a crack, with silver-grey fading away from it. In the crack below the axis, computer-graphic houses and buildings appeared.
The announcer now spoke about people beginning to live underground. It may have been that this was actually the end times. Livfing underground may have been due to something like a nuclear attack. The chart sped along even still. But it finally reached a point, freezing, with words in the blank space of a chart, like words in an old arcade game, saying, "HOUSING AS THE END OF THE WORLD?"
But the chart was now apparently some movie. All I could see of the movie was an empty road, as if the camera had the view of a car traveling down it. One of the ladies, who was now apparently my friend, was telling me about the movie. It was some kind of cartoon-like, mystical movie. The central character was a woman who was visited in her head by spirits. The spirits all revealed themselves to the woman to different degrees.
The woman told me about one spirit that barely revealed itself at all, so that the audience hardly knew anything about it, all through the story. The movie was an adaptation of a book. I wondered what kind of forethought would need to go into writing a character that revealed very little of itself. I wondered how much more could be revealed -- on purpose, for the audience -- through implication, if the writing were planned out correctly.
The lady told me to stay and watch the rest of the movie. But I felt like I couldn't. I looked up. Parked right by my head was something like a flight attendant's cart. But it was all done up to look like some kind of beach bar, with shaggy, wooden planks, palm fronds, and so forth.
As I looked at the cart, I realized that the name of the book was Little Round House. I saw the cover of the book. It was lavender with purple dots, with a white shape in the center. There were two cartoon children facing each other. They looked like the Precious Moments children. They had their heads bowed, as if in prayer.
Something about the weirdly quaint attitude of this book's cover made me want to stay and watch the movie. I wanted to see how something that started out so normal could end up being as weird as to include the imagery on the front of the book. But I still felt like I needed to go. So I probably wasn't going to watch the movie.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
great grandma's territory
Good morning, everybody.
Dream #1
I was in the main bedroom of my great grandmother's house, which has in waking life been sold to someone else since my great grandma died about two years ago. The room had its lights off, as usual, so that only greyish daylight came in through the thinly draped windows. I stood in the back right corner of the room, where my grandma had a wall-length desk. Right in the corner was a pile of clutter.
On the top of that clutter I saw a record sleeve that was lying face-down. I lifted the sleeve. The front cover was a scene like on the front of a pulp murder novel. The background of the scene was yellow, like a yellow sky. In the foreground were a man and a woman. They were both in their late twenties, but mature-looking and attractive, in the early 1960s style. There may have been a car near them.
I knew that the scene was depicting some moment from a murder novel. This record was probably a read version of that novel. At first I thought the novel was by John D. MacDonald. But I looked closely at the cover. I think I saw the name of the person who wrote the book. It wasn't MacDonald. It may have been something like Gill. The title of the book was something like Stock Chase.
I lay the record sleeve face-down again and wondered why my great grandma had this. She loved reading so much. I don't think she would have gotten a book on record or a book on tape, if she could have read the book herself. (I didn't consider that IWL, for the last few years of her life, my great grandma *only* read things on tape.)
My great grandma was now just behind me, standing over my left (or right?) shoulder. I knew that she was dead. But I simply figured she'd come back from the dead to talk with me. My great grandma asked me some question -- probably what on earth I was doing, just dilly-dallying here with this pile of clutter.
I tried to find something to do, so that my great grandma wouldn't be upset with me. I turned around and walked out of her bedroom. My great grandma's house had a small hallway; so all I did was basically walk out of her bedroom, when I got a pretty direct view to her living room. My mom and my sister were in the living room. My mom sat in my grandma's old chair. My sister sat somewhere else. My great grandma still stood behind me.
I saw a porcelain scuplture standing on my great grandma's coffee table. It was about 75cm tall. It was of a little girl. The girl had short, blonde hair in loose but straight curls. The girl wore a white and pink dress, the skirt of which went down to just above her knees. The girl was faced away from me at about a 45-degree angle. She seemed to be standing on her tiptoes, as if she were trying to see out the front window.
I then looked back and to my right. I somehow saw, in either my grandma's bedroom or the guest room, a head lying on either a bed or a desk. I don't know if the head was real or a sculpture. It looked like an ancient head, shrivelled up and dried up. The skin was like leather, and it clung tightly to the skull. The eyes looked small, and there was only a tiny bit of hair left on the head. It was only the top part of the head, too: there was no lower jaw.
I looked back to the sculpture of the little girl. I may have looked to my mom and sister as well, thinking that I needed to tell them something. My great grandma, still standing behind me, may have said, "You know all that work you used to do with stocks? I think you should still be doing that stuff." I had thought all that stuff was done for me. But when my great grandma mentioned that I should do it again, I felt a little hopeful. I thought maybe she was right.
I turned around and headed back into my great grandma's room. My great grandma had gone in there herself. I don't know if our plan had been to talk about things more or what. But my great grandma suddenly seemed to be getting either very angry or very distracted.
Suddenly my great grandma shocked me by urinating all over her room! I'm not exactly sure how she managed to do it. But she was running all over the place, peeing all over the floor, as well as shooting jets of urine all up along the walls, and all along the surfaces of the furniture. The only thing she didn't hit was the bed.
I couldn't tell why my great grandma was doing this. I had been starting to talk with her. So I wondered if something I'd said had made her angry, or if she was doing this to interrupt me, so I wouldn't get distracted from the new things she was telling me.
By the time my great grandma had stopped, everything in the room was soaked in urine. For some reason, I thought it wouldn't do to have pee all over the floor. I may have thought that the people coming to look to buy this place wouldn't want it if they saw pee all over the floors. So I took a towel and got down on my knees to dry off the floor.
As I did this, I may have been asking my great grandma why she'd done something like this. A hole may have opened up in the floor, and my great grandma may have been preparing to go down it. But she may have stood up for a moment more, watching me.
I was noticing, though, that the urine was itself already vanishing. There was something very obvious about this to me. It was like the pee was ghost-pee, which had the characteristic of vanishing or evaporating quickly, leaving no trace (although there may have been traces of salts in some areas). I was only seeing a few tiny spots left on the floor, where larger amounts of urine had pooled.
I either understood or was told by my great grandma that the reason my great grandma had peed all over the place like this was to mark her territory, like an animal would in the wild. The urine was all vanished now. But this space was still my great grandma's territory. It's possible that this meant that she could leave for now, but that it would be much easier for her to come back.
Dream #1
I was in the main bedroom of my great grandmother's house, which has in waking life been sold to someone else since my great grandma died about two years ago. The room had its lights off, as usual, so that only greyish daylight came in through the thinly draped windows. I stood in the back right corner of the room, where my grandma had a wall-length desk. Right in the corner was a pile of clutter.
On the top of that clutter I saw a record sleeve that was lying face-down. I lifted the sleeve. The front cover was a scene like on the front of a pulp murder novel. The background of the scene was yellow, like a yellow sky. In the foreground were a man and a woman. They were both in their late twenties, but mature-looking and attractive, in the early 1960s style. There may have been a car near them.
I knew that the scene was depicting some moment from a murder novel. This record was probably a read version of that novel. At first I thought the novel was by John D. MacDonald. But I looked closely at the cover. I think I saw the name of the person who wrote the book. It wasn't MacDonald. It may have been something like Gill. The title of the book was something like Stock Chase.
I lay the record sleeve face-down again and wondered why my great grandma had this. She loved reading so much. I don't think she would have gotten a book on record or a book on tape, if she could have read the book herself. (I didn't consider that IWL, for the last few years of her life, my great grandma *only* read things on tape.)
My great grandma was now just behind me, standing over my left (or right?) shoulder. I knew that she was dead. But I simply figured she'd come back from the dead to talk with me. My great grandma asked me some question -- probably what on earth I was doing, just dilly-dallying here with this pile of clutter.
I tried to find something to do, so that my great grandma wouldn't be upset with me. I turned around and walked out of her bedroom. My great grandma's house had a small hallway; so all I did was basically walk out of her bedroom, when I got a pretty direct view to her living room. My mom and my sister were in the living room. My mom sat in my grandma's old chair. My sister sat somewhere else. My great grandma still stood behind me.
I saw a porcelain scuplture standing on my great grandma's coffee table. It was about 75cm tall. It was of a little girl. The girl had short, blonde hair in loose but straight curls. The girl wore a white and pink dress, the skirt of which went down to just above her knees. The girl was faced away from me at about a 45-degree angle. She seemed to be standing on her tiptoes, as if she were trying to see out the front window.
I then looked back and to my right. I somehow saw, in either my grandma's bedroom or the guest room, a head lying on either a bed or a desk. I don't know if the head was real or a sculpture. It looked like an ancient head, shrivelled up and dried up. The skin was like leather, and it clung tightly to the skull. The eyes looked small, and there was only a tiny bit of hair left on the head. It was only the top part of the head, too: there was no lower jaw.
I looked back to the sculpture of the little girl. I may have looked to my mom and sister as well, thinking that I needed to tell them something. My great grandma, still standing behind me, may have said, "You know all that work you used to do with stocks? I think you should still be doing that stuff." I had thought all that stuff was done for me. But when my great grandma mentioned that I should do it again, I felt a little hopeful. I thought maybe she was right.
I turned around and headed back into my great grandma's room. My great grandma had gone in there herself. I don't know if our plan had been to talk about things more or what. But my great grandma suddenly seemed to be getting either very angry or very distracted.
Suddenly my great grandma shocked me by urinating all over her room! I'm not exactly sure how she managed to do it. But she was running all over the place, peeing all over the floor, as well as shooting jets of urine all up along the walls, and all along the surfaces of the furniture. The only thing she didn't hit was the bed.
I couldn't tell why my great grandma was doing this. I had been starting to talk with her. So I wondered if something I'd said had made her angry, or if she was doing this to interrupt me, so I wouldn't get distracted from the new things she was telling me.
By the time my great grandma had stopped, everything in the room was soaked in urine. For some reason, I thought it wouldn't do to have pee all over the floor. I may have thought that the people coming to look to buy this place wouldn't want it if they saw pee all over the floors. So I took a towel and got down on my knees to dry off the floor.
As I did this, I may have been asking my great grandma why she'd done something like this. A hole may have opened up in the floor, and my great grandma may have been preparing to go down it. But she may have stood up for a moment more, watching me.
I was noticing, though, that the urine was itself already vanishing. There was something very obvious about this to me. It was like the pee was ghost-pee, which had the characteristic of vanishing or evaporating quickly, leaving no trace (although there may have been traces of salts in some areas). I was only seeing a few tiny spots left on the floor, where larger amounts of urine had pooled.
I either understood or was told by my great grandma that the reason my great grandma had peed all over the place like this was to mark her territory, like an animal would in the wild. The urine was all vanished now. But this space was still my great grandma's territory. It's possible that this meant that she could leave for now, but that it would be much easier for her to come back.
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