dream journal
These dreams are arranged in chronological order from most
recent to most distant. dreams from last year are archived through a
link at the bottom of this page.
26 june - 2 june
several unsettling dreams that center on romance and killing sprees.
undoubtedly related to my recently perusal of jemiah's novel
_the way to sheol_ which features both. the penultimaate such dream (thus
far) that i had was basically a composite of all my worst anxiety dream
themes. i can't remember the details well, but it ended with me having to
pack my bags (natch) very quickly so that i could go on the lam with my
fellow hooligans and outrun the police who were already at the door. this
was the first time in a long time that i've had a dream that i would
categorize as a nightmare, with the only essential difference between
anxiety dreams and nightmares being that nightmares actually wake me up
and cause me great distress in my waking time -- sweatiness, heavy
breathing, panic, fear, etc.
ca. 20 june
i am moving to the sidekick's lounge. i get there and discover that the
house is much larger than it is supposed to be and just about every reedie
i know is living there. the basement is again a part of the house, but it
looks just like the dave & stu's basement (and, in fact, i believe
the boys are living in the basement with a few other people). the
upstairs is large and modern-looking, like a reagan era condominium
complex,
all white and shiny. the kitchen, however, is surprisingly filthy. the
floor which i know to be white, appears black under a thick layer of soot
and gunk. i wonder how matt could have let the kitchen fall into such
disrepair. there is an extra living room just beyond the kitchen (where
the real laundry room is, i think) and the room is trashed beyond
recognition. steve, who was supposed to have already left the house, has
been sleeping on the couch in that room for some time. this is a source
of great tension and animosity in the house.
i have been moving my stuff all day, so i decide to rest
for a bit and watch tv. dave is there, also watching tv. attempts at
coversation fail in front of the tube and dave rises suddenly and
announces that he's going out. he sounds angry and i wonder if i
committed some horrible faux pas, but i try not to let it show. he leaves
the room and re-emerges some time late in full goth gear. i pretend not
to notice. once he leaves, i set to work cleaning the kitchen.
7 june
at a party with several reedies in attendance. the party is winding down
quickly and i know i need to leave soon since i have to wake up early in
the morning to go to work. dave is there and he suddenly says, "veronica,
would you like to go with me to the sports center to eat salt and bjelt?"
i have absolutely no clue what he might be talking about, but i
immediately say, "yes, i'd love to." after some hesitation, i finally
ask, "uhhh... just what is that?" he laughs and says, "i don't know, but
it's a reed tradition!" someone else in the room explains that "bjelting"
is an old reed sport wherein reedies' pet jellyfish are pitted against
their brethern as they wrestle to the death in giant, briney tanks. it's
a
bloodsport, to be sure, but a harmless and safe
one, i am assured. the human spectators suck on salt licks whilst the
jellyfish go at it as a way of communing with their marine proxies. i
ask when this event is to take place and dave says,
"in an hour." it's 12:30 already and i need to be awake in not too many
hours, but i agree anyway; i've done more challenging things on less
sleep. the hour goes by quickly and soon enough we are in the sports as
folks are gathering for the big event -- bear is there and he appears to
be
the person in charge, natch. reedies are there and each one of them has a
big ice cooler full of the jellies. i overhear someone complain,
"bjelting isn't like it used to be at old reed. it used to be a
one-on-one tournament that actually proved something about your jellyfish.
but now everyone just throws their jellyfish in the tank all together and
it's just a big free-for all. what's the point of that? and then last
year everyone started trying to stab the fish while they were wrestling
-- why?! to make it more challenging?! -- but that's not wrestling,
that's just wild stabbing about!"
over in a different part of the
sports center (one i've obviously never before seen) there is a giant
barbecue grill, about 15 feet off the ground and perhaps 50 yards long.
20+ foot long shish kebabs lay neatly across the grill. there is a ladder
set up near the grill so that one can actually reach the grill to turn the
gargantuan treats. michelle is on the ladder attempting to retrieve her
creation which features several much larger than life cherry tomatoes.
she gives up and climbs down the ladder and i decide to go up to see if i
can claim some food. "be careful!" michelle warns me. "it's a metal
ladder." the proximity of the ladder to the grill meant that the steps
were very hot; in fact it was on fire in some places. i took great care
not to step on the flaming spots.
4 june
i've been invited to stay at a country estate of a distant relative in
england. upon arrival i discover that a large inheritance was left to me
years ago (by the patriarch of the family, i believe), but the selfish
survivors in the family hid the money for themselves. the butler, happy
to set things right at last, tells me the story in person. he says,
"they've spent most of the fortune, you understand, so there is little
left. what we have, i will give to you. 80,000 pounds, while certainly
no
fortune, is still a good deal of money." 80,000 pounds?! i do the math
quickly
in my head and i concur with the butler. he removes a be-tassled red
velvet cover from a chest in the corner and pulls out a very large red
velvet sack filled with gold coins -- the inheritance. i think to myself,
"80,000£ may not be as exciting as the whole fortune, but at least i can
pay off my perkins loans."
2 June
am involved in a dance contest of some sort with a boy, but we're bpoth
veyr bad. i blame it all on him. too many fancy dips and twirls -- we
should have kept the choreography simple. he keeps dropping me on the
dips and i keep slipping in me heels.
31 May
Only scene in memory from tonight: Mom is sitting on a bed taunting me as
I hurl chunks of heavy glass (crystal balls? crystal wine glasses?) at
her. They make satisfying "THUD!" sounds as they bounce off of her, but
other than that, there seems to be no effect.
29 May
i'm realizing that i'll probably never catch up with all the dreams i've
had in the past month or so, so i think i'm just going to skip them and
start afresh. cant remember last night, but will make a new entry when i
can. the list of coming attractions just under the entry for march 29 has
a lot of the dreams i'm not bothering to type in. enjoy.
14 April
i'm in the library south reference room. it now exactly mirrors the north
ref room so that there is a pollock room type place there, too. all of
the old card catalogs have been stored there. no one has cleaned it out
in yars, it looks like. there is trash stashed up above the cards and
everything is in disarray. i am trying to do research. on top of one of
the card catalogs amid piles of trash and dust is an old, bound thesis.
i flip thruogh it and see that it is chris lowe's thesis. stranegely,
though, this is not a history thesis, it's theatre. now i know that chris
started out with dreams of a theatre (actually film) career and settled
for history when that failed. he wrote a horrible screenplay right out
of reed called "to live and die dangerously in l.a." needless to say it
was a big time stinker and it turned him off of hollywood for good and he
then went on to pursue graduate studies in history. i watch the old film
and try to find some kind of redeeming qualities to it, but it is
terrible.
10 April
i am in a movie directed by hal hartley and starring martin donovan
(natch) and some other chick who is playing martin donovan's wife and may
in fact be his real-life wife (real life in the dream, anyway). though i
am aware we are in a movie and that there is a crew and all, i cannot see
them and i have no self-consciousness about following a script or being
directed; we are all completely within the world of the film. the plot
of the movie is something like this: martin and i are in love and are
planning to run off together, however his wife is something of a
hindrance. she does not seem too terribly upset about the situation (she
is well aware of our incipient relationship), but nevertheless, we cannot
just run off together. at one point we all three are in an elevator (i
believe it was the dlab to irc to math lounge/chris office elevator in
the library) and martin and i are kissing. i look over to see his wife,
crying a bit in the corner of the elevator. i feel terrible and move away
from martin. when the elevator doors open, we walk into an aprtment where
i see standing there hal and crew. hal takes me aside and informs me that
i am being replaced in the movie. he introduces me to the new actress who
is tall and blonde and gorgeous. "she'll sell in hollywood," he tells me.
before i can accuse him of selling out, i am already outside of the movie
watching the flick on the telly in my own aprtment. i comfort myself by
noting that she's a terrible actress and rather stupid. a new plot twist:
she has a huge tattoo of a cherub on her chest. she reveals it and says,
"touch it and it will absorb you." i scoff, "she means
'absolve.'"
30 March
i am sitting in someone's living room watching tv. about four or five
other reedies are in the room, including minott kerr, and they are also
watching tv and chatting lightly. we're watching some brit comedy show,
possibly "are you being served?" or something like that and as the show
ends, i notice "minott kerr" listed in the credits. i debate
in my head whether or not this could be our minott when i reason that it's
highly unlikely that there could be multiple minott kerrs in the world.
so i ask him about it and he demures. he reveals that when he was
studying in france, he took some time off to stay with some friends in
london. they were showbiz folks and got him various little pa-type jobs
for television shows in the area. i am very excited about this idea and
question him about what other shows he worked on. he seems embarassed and
brushes off the question. with awe and trepidation i ask, "did you work
on... the young ones?!" he admits that he did indeed and i flip, but
happily.
29 March
i have accidentally made three dates for the same evening. it's the
typical kind of thing that puts the sit in sitcom -- like the time peter
brady made two dates for the halloween party and spent teh entire evening
freaking out and running back and forth between the rec room and the
living room trying to keep both girls happy and unaware of the situation
-- though it lacked some of
the traditional sitcom com. once i realize that i have done this, i know
that i would be too embarassed to reveal to the three men that i have made
this terrible faux pas so i work out a plan of action. i prioritize the
dates on levels of importance (read: possibility of romantic intent). the
first "date" is with matt, but it's not really a date at all -- we were
just planning to go see a movie or something -- so i decide to axe him
altogether. the second date is with adam robins (why adam?, you
ask... i dunno. certainly a very random figure to pop up in my dream --
i'm sure my subconscious was just flailing about for a name and somehow
landed on poor adam) and i cannot break off that date so i decide to
spend the first part of the evening with him. the third date is with some
unnamed older man. i dont know if i know who he is. i dont know how i've
met him, but i know this is an extremely important date and i must meet
him at some point in the evening. so i start off the night hanging out
with adam in his dorm room. we're just chatting about nothing in
particular. he gets up to go to the bathroom or something and i remember
that i never called matt to cancel our plans. rather than just call him,
i decide that it would be faster if i just went straight to the sidekick's
and let him know what was going on in person, and i could still make it
back to campus before adam returns to the room. i get on the nitebus and
head toward the house and somewhere en route i realize that matt isn't
even home, that he's forgotten completely about our date so i neednt worry
about warning him. i think about heading back to adam's place, but i meet
up with the mystery man on my way back. i forget about matt AND adam and
i run off with this guy.
actually, i have been able to catch a nap here and there, and there are
dreams that i have written down on paper, but not html-ized because, you
see, i am a very busy person and i don't have time for such
procrastinatory tomfoolery. but do know that there are some good ones
coming, including, but not limited to:
a brady bunch episode spin-off in which i have three dates all
scheduled for the same night. wackinees, of course, ensues. (3/29)
a surprise discovery that minott kerr used to work on the set of "the
young ones" while a student in england. (3/30)
yet another dream in which i view a cary elwes movie. what is it with
cary elwes and my subconscious? (4/5?)
martin donovan and i starring in our very own flick. (4/10)
a surprise discovery that chris lowe was a *theatre* major at reed,
not
history, and that he wrote the screenplay to a stinker thriller film
called "to live and die dangerously in l.a." (4/14)
attending the commencement ceremonies at willamette university, i
discover that their s.u. looks exactly like ours and everyone says, "don't
say you're better than them because you're not."
super chris lowe wrestles me to the ground and whups my ass(5/4)
with every graduating reedie i know, i take a road trip from portland
to berkeley. car breaks down in bend, dave hayden is arrested for this
offense and the rest of us continue the trip in a shopping cart only to
find that reed is in berkeley, too. (5/15)
democratic national convention held in the library. i am running
between floors to see teh different caucuses. howling ensues and the tv
ratings go through the roof (5/17)
and much, much more!
thesis = no sleep = no dreams
sorry.
14 March
I was watching a movie starring Cary Elwes. I was commenting to the
folks with whom I was watching the film that one could tellit wasn't very
well done, but there were several continuity mistakes, most involving
Cary Elwes' teeth. You see, he had a gold fillings in his back teeth
which were very visible and in some scenes they were covered with white
tooth caps (because the gold didn't fit with character) and sometimes
they weren't covered. Suddenly we were all in the movie and I saw
his "gold filling" lying on a table. It was actually a gold
coin, broken roughly and jaggedly in half and it fit into his mouth like
a bit. I picked it up and it was burning hot. I juggled it from hand to
hand like a hot potato and finally decided that i'd have to put it
in
mouth which I did. Briefly worried about Cary cooties, but it no longer
burned.
10 March
Darcy and I were trying to buy something form this guy peddling stuff on
the street. There were lots of people trying to get his wares, buthe
wanted to deal with us. He gave us a baggie, but then said, "But wait!
There's more!" Then he pulled out of his pocket a huge dead rat.
"There's more in there!" he exclaimed, sounding like he wanted to impress
us. Trying to be polite and realizing what a great deal we were getting
if there was more in there (he was giving us the rat as a free bonus), i
took the rat and left with Darcy. We were near the Cross Canyon dorms
and we were walking toward the car which was in the north parking lot.
About halfway there, i realized that i was holding a
rat, for god's sake, and dead or alive, deal or no deal,
I didnt want it. I started to cry because I knew I was going to give up
the rat just because of my phobia and I felt guilty because that decision
would affect Darcy, too, who doesn't have a phobia of rats.
2 March
Ben L. and I were preparing an in-class presentation for theatre class on
expressionism. I was frantically working on something else for another
class and so I was unprepared. I wasn't even in class yet and it had
already begun. Luckily, Ben was taking the first part of the
presentation and I the second. I don't know where I was, but it was a
room in a building sorta near the theatre, but not in it, I don't think.
In any case, Ben finished his part of the presnetation and then came to
get me. He also had to leave class at this point because he had to go to
some audition for something. He handed me a play manuscript saying, "You
have to discuss this next" and he left. I hadn't read it yet so I was a
bit nervous; there was, however, a short summary of the play before it
so I though all I need do was read it and I would be saved. I wondered
if the play was in fact expressionistic, but I spied a little Library of
Congress subject listing on it and it listed, among other things,
expressionism. It also said it was a feminist play. I walked into the
classroom and satrted bullshitting my way through a presentation. I
still hadn't read the summary of the play so I was trying to read it
while I talked which created several long, awkward pauses in my speech.
At some point it all ended, but I knew that we had to finish the
presentation during the next class. In the time between that class and
the next one, I had no time to prepare any more than I had for first,
disastrous class. First, I got lost in a mall that was somehow a cross
between Lloyd Center and Hilltop Mall (thus my confusion). Then, Bela
got sick, though maybe that was in fact later in the dream. A bunch of
other stuff happened that prevented me from preparing anything for the
class. The morning of the class, I was having an existential crisis
trying to figure out whether I had my PE class that day (since that would
affect which bra I wore to school) when I realized that it was the day of
my theatre class which meant that it was also PE day. I wore a sports
bra mad a t-shirt. I got to school and was frantically cramming again.
Before I went to class, though, I knew I had to win at this trivia board
game and thus pick up the winner's token and be allowed entrance into the
classroom. I didn't have time to play the game, though, as I was quite
busy getting ready to make a fool of myself again in class. So, I
decided to cheat just a little and decided that if i answered one
question picked at
random correctly then I'd let myself pick up the token anyway. Something
kept going wrong, I don't remember what, but I wound up giving up and
just grabbed the token and left.
After class, I wentt o go hang out outside of Commons (?!). There I
tried to unwind from the stressful experience I had just had. It was
O-Week and there were incoming froshies swarming everywhere, going in and
out of Commons. I saw someone familiar coming out of Commons. It was
Andy Vance. I exclaimed when I saw him (I haven't seen him in 3 years
and I surely did not expect to see him in Portland) and ran up to greet
him. He seemed pleased but unsurprised to see me. Apparently he'd been
in Portland for some time. I was thinking that he looked well -- more
self-confident, happier, less distressed about being in his own skin. I
was a little distracted talking to him and he asked if I was all right.
"Yes, I'm sorry," I respoded, "It's just that I've been sort of deluged
with memories of my past coming to life lately. My mom was up here just
last week and I talked to my sister the other night... it's all just kind
of weird. You know, like the six of cups." He knew
1 March
I was looking for a new walkman to replace the one I had just lost
(strangely, though, in real life I had just had my lost walkman returned
to me earlier that day). I was in a store looking through their shelves
and noticed that the cheapest ones were not only impossibly tiny, but
were also radio
only (no cassette deck). I was considering just getting one of those
anyway, but then realized that the reason they were so cheap was because
they could only pick up one station each. Each of these tiny radios was
locked into one and only one dial position. Each on ehad its radio
station's call letters and logo imprinted upon it -- this was some kind
of new advertising gimmick! I was somewhat disusted by the crassness of
it, but was still tempted by the inexpensiveness of it. Ultimately, I
decided nit to buy one because there is no one station I would want to
listen to all the time.
24 February
i was in the library studying away with two other friends sitting
nearby. Nghia came up to us and convinced us to go home on the night
bus, tout de suite. we agreed. we got on the night bus and there was
one other person there besides the four of us (and the driver, of
course) and she was very young, like about 6 or 7 years old. the driver
dropped off one of my friends first and the little girl thought that this
was the closest to her house that the driver was going to drop her so she
got out and said that she was going to walk home by a shortcut from
there. we tried to stop her, but she didn't hear us. we were all very
worried for her since it was only a misunderstanding and she was taking a
very dangerous shortcut through a big canefield (?!). the bus driver,
realizing that nothing could be done, drove on. "Can't we turn around and
get her?" i ask, frantically? "There's nowhere to make a u-turn for
awhile," the driver said and i saw that it was true. we were headed up a
steep, one-lane mountain road. she was driving too fast! we were now in
the bed of a pick up truck and i was in immediate danger of flying out of
the bed and down one of these steep cliffs. i was screming for her to
slow down. but she couldnt hear me ove rthe din of the wind and the
engine. i held on to the side of the truck as i flew out of the truck
and dangled above and endless abyss, still clinging for life. i flopped
back in the truck and we were on flat ground again. every asked me if
was all right and said, "yes, but even if i'd fallen i think i'd be okay
since this is only a dream."
22 February
In Foster-Scholz, getting ready for Video Board. I remember that I've
been running around all day trying to get "Surviving Desire", but nobody
had it. I came back to campus without it, but only now realized, already
7:00, that I didn't have it. I begin to panic. I call Darcy and somehow
this fixes things, but we still haev to wait. The natives are getting
restless. I walk through the crowd trying to appease everyone and get them
to stay still while the tape is en route. While we're waiting, I show
an old episode of X-Files on tape. Some people come through and declare
loudly and angirly that it's not "Surviving Desire". I explain over and
over again. I am walking behind some of the couches and I notice an
unfamiliar looking man standing by the TV. He is closing teh cabinet
doors which is odd since everyone is still watching. NObody protests or
even seems to notice. I sense something bad is about to happen and I duck
behind the couches. Suddenly the man pulls out a gun and he opens
fire on the crowd. Blood, screaming, bullets everywhere. I feel guilty
for not warning the otehrs when I sensed something wrong since I only
protected myself. Too late to think about that now, I tell myself, and
start thinking about ways to get out, but I can think of nothing that
won't expose myself to his firing. He begins to look under the couches
(where I am) and starts shooting under there, too. I wake up suddenly,
panting and sweating. When I go back to sleep, I am back in F-S, again
getting ready for VB, but this time the dream just consists of my endless
quest to fill the room with ample seating space. I wind up with al sorts
of weird chairs and tables. I sit in each one to make sure that the TV
is visible. Most of tehm are quite small -- no more than a foot off the
ground.
21 February
Sometimes, if I wake up in the middle of the night and I have a dream
clearly in my memory, I'll say a word or two about it out loud while I'm
still in bed. For some reason I can always remember what I said if I say
it out loud better than if I just think about it and remembering these
keywords usually triggers my memory of the whole dream. Anyway,
last night I woke up before dawn and had a complete dream in my memory.
To remind my waking self of the dream i said, "i'm a clown." For the
first time ever, this has failed to elicit any kind of memory from deep
within the storerooms of memory. Oh well. I bet it was an interesting
dream.
17 February
I was walking across a big muddy field with Bumblebutte. We were both
having trouble walking because the ground was soft and we kept sinking
down into the chunky mud. I really wanted a cup of coffee, so I was
headed to this cafe which was across the field and across the street that
formed the horizon border of the field. I was worried, though, that
perhaps Bumblebutte shouldn't come with me because crossing the street is
dangerous for a cat and I didnt even know if the cafe I was headed for
allowed cats inside, though I thought it would be pretty neat to be
hanging out drinking coffee with Bumblebutte. But the sitution
wound up resolving itself because Bumblebutte announced that he was tired
of walking across the field so he was going home. I made it to the
street and crossed towrd the cafe, but now I was going to a restaurant to
meet Darcy, Matt and Steve and perhaps others. I got to the restaurant
and Matt was outside, STINKING drunk. He had two forties, one in each
hand. I assumed that he had had more in the evening because even with
those two bottles who couldn't possibly have gotten this drunk. He was
more plastered thatn I'd ever seen him -- or anyone for that matter --
and he was having a hard time standing up so I was supporting him around
the shoulder as we stumbled towrd the door of the restaurant though I
wondered if it was actually a good idea to bring him inside. There was
someone else there, a guy (Steve?), I don't remember who, who had another
forty that Matt was trying to away from him. I convinced him that he
didn't need it.
16 February
There's a reunion of folks from the AIDS Walk/Dance office in Vanessa's
old bedroom in Mom's house. I'm standing in the doorway, very pleased to
see everyone again, though a lot of the people there were Reedies and
completely unrelated to the office. The room is completely empty except
for the folks (about 15 people in all) and a large rectangular blanket.
Everyone is arranged along the
perimeter of this picnic blanket spread out on the floor. There's nothing
on the blanket, it's just a marker to show people how far away to sit
from one another. I'm not within the circle (which, of course, is
actually a rectangle) because I don't think there's enough room for me to
fit in. I'm a little sad about being outside, but I'm still involved in
the conversation. Pearl comes in and makes people scoot over to make
room. I figure if she can do it, so can I and I choose a spot next to
Ben and someone else cool who was there who was probably also a Reedie
and not a Walk person. We're going around the "circle" and each person
is giving some sort of presentation. I'm not ready, but I am pleased to
be situated somewhere in the middle so I don't have to be first, nor do I
have to go last when everyone has heard everything already.
15 February
Trying to get to Fuji Restaurant by way of Powell which was not at all
how it usually is. Several people in the car, Ben L. driving. Got
caught in the middle of a huge plaza right in the middle of the
intersection of Powell and 30th. I said, "Let's get out and walk." We
all left the car in the mif the plaza [no big deal, no one seemed to
mind] and began the difficult task of cutting across the interesection
without dying. I noticed many, many people at each of the four corners
of the intersection waiting to cross; we were already in the middle of
it all so we had to hurry. Some people who were wiating to cross had
thrown out the things they were carrying with them out into the middle of
the street because this somehow was supposed to speed their journey
across since they could pick up the stuff along the way. We nearly died
crossing. I lost track of the others when I had to start rolling on the
ground to avoid being ht by the constant onslaught of vehicles. I made
it across, but where's everyone? I decide to go home instead of to
Fuji.
27 January
Another one of those subway dreams. Clozach was trying to get me to go
on one train, in one direction and Adam Forest was trying to get me to go
on another one in the opposite direction. On the surface this seems to
be a pretty straightforward anxiety dream about time limitations and
conflicting obligations, but it's stranger than that and this dream
disturbed me more than I think it would have of that were all it was
about. I'm not hazarding a guess (publicly anyway) as to what it was
actually about, but I think that the most important symbol is that of the
train (as the subconscious itself, perhaps) and clozach might not
actually have represented himself, nor his play. Shrug.
23 January
Hanging out with Celeste, Darcy and Roger Avary. Don't know why Roger
Avary was there. We were all sort of star-struck, but only a little. He
was a pretty cool guy, so that soon overrode any groupie silliness that
we might have had. He said that he had just gotten the news and was
really upset. News? we asked.
"You haven't heard? Quentin died this morning of a heroin overdose."
"Really?! Imagine - we're hearing this historical news from Roger
Avary."
As we were driving along there posters and pictures of Quentin everywhere
and I wondered how such a dweeb could have though it a good idea to
fashion himself into some kind of Hollywood glamour boy.
"He was eaten alive by the pop-culture he revered," I said out loud in
order to express this train of thought I'd been having.
We got back to the apartment and there was some kind of party going on.
I was sitting on the floor ad Roger was sitting across the room from me.
He pulled out a gun and said, "Move out of the way, I'm going to shoot a
bullet into the trash can." I started to move, but he fired too soon and
the bullet grazed my leg. It just burned a bit and I got angry with him
for not waiting longer. The bullet lay in whole by the trash can, not in
it and everyone suddenly understood that since the bullet hadn't
actually hit anything that it could explode in a fiery ball at any
minute. We moved away. I needed something by the trash can, but I was
afraid to go near the dangerous bullet. From a distance, I threw a
newspaper on top of it hoping it would detonate only a bit and the
newspaper would "absorb" most of the explosion. As one would expect, it
blew up into a big fiery mess and melted the plastic kitchen mat. I put
out the fire with my hands.
21 January
I was trapped in some kind of warehouse. I had to climb on top of all
these big metal boxes to get away from some evil person who was chasing
me. Lindsay Wagner was there and I kept expecting her to help me, but
she wouldn't, since she's not really bionic.
16 January
Interesting variation on the actor's nightmare dream: I was in a band
with Matt, Suzie, Steve and some other assorted friends. Matt and Suzie
decided that I should be the lead singer. I was excited at first until I
realized how horrible that would actually be since I can't sing at all.
They assured me, however, that everything would be fine. I tried singing
when I was by myself and it still sounded awful. Our first gig ever was
to be at La Luna. We hadn't even had any rehearsals or anything, we were
just going to play. This was a special show only for record executives
to scout for new talent. La Luna was filled with stiff suits and the pit
was transformed into a banquet hall with long, linen-covered tables
arranged lengthwise. I was scared. I spent a great deal of time
offstage in the dressing room (which looked suspiciously like Mom's
bedroom) trying to decide what to wear and being frustrated by my lack of
wardrobe. I had nothing that would convey the feeling of funky fabulous
indifference I thought the band was going for. Our set had already
begun, but I didn't need to come on until later, but I was still running
out of time. I peeked out to see the pit and noticed that everyone was
watching with stoic passivity. Scary. I finally ran out and tried to
start singing, but the microphone was broken because Bumblebutte was
onstage and he had chewed through the cord. I asked Steve for another
one and he handed me a spoon. I told him that that wouldn't work and he
said there was another one in the closet. Just in case I couldn't get
the secret meaning of the dream, Kristy Kambanis was "directing" our
bands performance that night, too. She was doing some kind of
interperative dance in
the wings wearing lots of brightly colored, loose flowing things.
14 January
The Eliot Chapel was the site of the Devo reunion concert and I had a
front row seat. Better than that, actually, I was sitting on the steps
leading up to the stage. The Chapel was much the same as it truly is
except that it extended much farther back and there was an impossible
number of people crammed into the room. Most of them were squealing
teenie bopper chix who kept freaking out and rushing the stage. I was way
over that whole scene and viewed them with disdain from my perch. Still,
I was quite excited to see Devo playing live and every few seconds I'd
turn to someone near me and say, pointing onstage, "Look! It's Mark
Mothersbaugh!" Everyone gave me the look of duh I deserved. The crowd went
crazy when they began to play "Girl U Want" and I was afraid of being
crushed even from my relatively safe position. Mark cut off the song
abruptly and announced that it was time for him to reveal what he had
learned in his trek through Tibet. He said that we were each to come up
one-by-one and look at what he had written on this white board that was
pushed up against the back wall (where the windows are) of the chapel
stage. He arranged the curtain so that only one person could pass
through at a time and I was to be first. For some reason everyone in the
audience had a plate (I think there was a pre-show dinner or something)
and he instructed people to bring theirplates with them. As I approached
the curtain he said, "Put your plate by the door and come up here." I
didn't see any door so I assumed that he meant the curtain passageway
that he had made and so I put the plate on the floor by the curtain. He
shook his head sadly and as I approached him at the white board he wrote
on the board "NO. UH-UH. SORRY." I realized that I would not get to
see his secret since I had not fully followed the directions he gave me.
The door he meant, which I now saw, was to the right of the stage. This
was some sort of test of alertness and ability to follow directions. I
had failed and I was embarrassed that I didn't notice the door. Everyone
behind me in line continued to stack their plates where I had placed mine
and thus were all denied enlightment. I had ruined the concert for
everyone.
10 January
I was on vacation staying in a large house with a woman who had five
children: two girls and three boys. I was sharing a room with the eldest
two children (one boy, one girl) and the other three younger children all
shared one room together. Their mother was constantly running around and
trying to get a million things done at once. I was only a boarder, but I
soon realized that the mother wanted me to be a babysitter as well,
something that I was not at all prepared to do. Trying to hide
from all of the children and madness of the house, I ran down to the
basement hoping to find some respite. There I found the lair of the
Emporer, ruler of the underground kingdom of which the house, though
above ground, was a part. Since I had stumbled onto his secret cove and
met him face to face, it was necessary according to the laws of ancient
tradition that I fight him for the leadership of his domain. I had no
interest in ruling the underground kingdom, but tradition is tradition
and so I fought him and to my great surprise, I won. The Emporer was
quite chivalrous about the whole thing and after the fight, he showed me
around his lair and mentioned that he'd now have more time to watch TV.
He dubbed me Queen Noir and called me by that name during our tour. I
thought that maybe he decided on that name to distinguish me from Snow
White who also lived in th underground kingdom. At the end of the tour, he
took me to the back room and proudly
announced that this was the best part of the lair. He swung open the
door to reveal towering shelves full of assorted groceries and sundries.
"All this is yours!" he proclaimed. I was indeed impressed, but I
couldn't figure out how I would fit it all in the two little bags I had
with me when my vacation ended and I had to pack and go home.
3 January
In a very low flying airplane with Myrlin and others on our way from Oahu
(or maybe Kaua'i) to the Big Island. I was talking about my 4th grade
field trip to the Big Island, but for some reason I willfully lied and
said that the trip happened in high school. We were flying so close to
the waster that we could clearly see people on the islands and see fish
in the ocean. Myrlin and I argued briefly about whether one small island
we were flying past was actually Kaho'olawe (which I believed it was) or
Lana'i. I said that it couldn't possibly be Lana'i since there were no
pineapple plants. She said it couldn't be Kaho'olawe because there was
too much vegetation on the island and it was too big. We arrived on the
Big Island and our first stop was a
farm or circus or zoo or something for whales. There was an impossible
number of whales all being held in a large, but still insufficient,
swimming pool. They struggled with each other to get to the surface for
air and some were trying to "beach" themselves on the concrete surface
surrounding the pool. Despite all of this, it wasn't too terribly
disturbing and the whales did not seem overly traumatized. We fed them
fish from the full buckets kept around the edge of the pool and I kept
asking the keepers/trainers, "How do you feed them plankton?", but they
didn't answer. The ledge around the pool
was very small (this is why the whales were never successful in beaching
themselves) and I was afraid that I might fall into the pool. I wasn't
sure what would happen then, though I thought for awhile that they might
eat me; realizing how unlikely that was, I then just feared drowning
under the bulk of the whales.
2 January
I'm at the airport to pick someone up? check flight times? buy a
ticket? Not sure, but my own flight is in exactly one hour and I still
have to return home to pack. Quickly, I rush back home, Darcy drives, I
think, and start throwing together stuff to take with me on my trip to
France. I need my passport, too, but where is it? We'll never make it
on time and I've packed too much already, the monster is full as are my
other bags -- I can't carry all this! 20 minutes until the flight --
even if we make it to the airport they probably won't let me on since it
is an international flight and I don't have my passport. Mom is there
and she keeps telling me hurry! you can still make it!
1 January
Yet another eerily disturbing dream about Seattle: I had planned (months
or possibly years in advance) a "date" with Chris Wood in Seattle.
Apparently he was now living somewhere in Washington and could never make
it to Portland and I could never make it to wherever he was living and
this was the only day we could meet and it could only be in Seattle.
Darcy, Steve and Matt also decided to come along for the trip and we all
packed in the car and headed north. The trip was surprisingly short and
we arrived in Seattle from Portland in a matter of minutes. When we got
there Steve said he was hungry and asked to stop off at a grocery store
which we did. It was downtown and looked suspiciously like the Woodstock
Safeway which, though I haven't been in it for a number of years, I
remember quite distinctly. We split up and I wandered around the deli
area for awhile looking for free samples and thinking about my up-coming
"date". There was some kind of lumpy spread in the refrigerator case
that I sampled and just as I was doing so, Matt and Steve came around the
corner and were teasing me for eating the samples, but I think they were
just being mean 'cause they were eating it too. Matt started mixing
cocktails (brandy and something else) in an empty Chinese take-out box
and a store security person walked up and asked us for IDs which we
supplied. He apologized and wandered off. I kept reminding everyone that
we had to get to the hotel because I needed to get ready for my date. We
soon left and got to the hotel. I was supposed to meet Chris at the ice
skating rink in the same hotel. As I was getting ready I realized that
he wasn't there; I'd been stood up. It was understandable, though,
since we'd made the date so long ago and not spoken since. I then became
stressed about figuring out the Seattle bus system which I would have to
use to get to work the next day.
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