dream journal

well, you didn't ask for it, but here it is. welcome to my subconscious. i don't know why anyone would care, but for the last 5 years or so i've taken it upon myself to share my dreams -- sometimes amusing, sometimes mundane -- with the on-line community. if this is your first visit here i recommend that you start at the beginning and work your way up to the present day me. archives are linked below. and if you're a regular visitor, i can't say that i understand why you keep coming back, but thanks and enjoy.
§january - june 1999
§july - november 1998
§september 96-february 1997
§january - september 1996
§october - december 1995

25 dec
i am visiting pamela who is in school at reed. she apologizes for not being very good company as she has to study for a final. she offers me a text book to read while she studies. it's a sociology book with plenty of requisite charts and graphs. it seems to be detailing the reproductive trends among urban third world women. it's pretty condescending, but written so clinically that it was almost forgivable. on the cover of the book are black and white line drawings of women at work. i can't remember the title of the book anymore, but it was really good.
22 dec
i have just given birth to a bouncing baby girl. we've just gotten home (that is, mom's house) from the hospital when i realize that i have yet to choose a name for her. i mentally flip through my index of favorite girl's names, but i can't think of any that are quite right. if only she were a boy, i'd have a name ready! i look at her and quite suddenly i just know that her name is marie-helene. it's not a name i especially like so i am somewhat disappointed that this is her name. i fear that people will think that i chose this name for her because i liked it, or worse yet, out of some snobbish francophilia. i immediately try to think of a good nickname to call her instead. i can only think of "melly", but i am afraid that if she goes by "melly" all the kids at school will call her "smelly" so i ditch that idea. i ask her what she would prefer to be called and am only mildly surprised when she responds, "je ne sais pas, maman." i kind of figured she would know how to speak already (i could tell she was whipsmart) , but i am kind of chagrined that she seems to speak only french. i struggle to come up with grammatically correct sentences to speak to her, but ditch the effort eventually -- it's feeding time anyway.
a while later we go out. maybe i'm supposed to meet somebody, or do something, i'm not sure, but i take her to this bar, of the live-music-in-the-back variety. i leave her in her carseat at the front of the bar (not wanting to damage her little eardrums). i am standing near the wall next to a man who hold a bouquet of green onions. for no apparent reason i am suddenly struck dumb by how totally unprepared for motherhood i am. not only did i not think up a good name for her, but i also have not gotten her a pediatrician, nor baby things like a crib and stroller, nor a social security card -- this lsat one seems the most important since i also need to get her a passport -- we're going to thailand next week. ferpeetssake, what the hell have i been doing for the past nine months?! for no particular reason i share my concerns with the man with the green onion bouquet. about finding a pediatrician he says, "well, what about the doctor who delivered the baby?" and this seems like a good question, especially since i have no recollection of that doctor. in fact, now that he mentions it, i have no specific recollection of giving birth at all. i decide to get to the bottom of his mystery and as i leave the green onion man hands me a few wilted stalks.
19 dec
in our bathroom there are two toilets side-by-side. my cat is drinking out of the one on the right and bumblebutte is drinking out of the one on the left. i decide that it would be funny if i flushed the toilets while they were unsuspecting. i do so and to my horror, they are quickly whisked away down the drain. panic sets in. do i find our sewer line and go in after them? should i call the city? should i give them up as lost? i decide to try to get them back on my own before doing anything else. i get a plunger and start working on my cat's toilet first (because i'm selfish that way and bumblebutte pees on ny stuff). i pump the plunger a few times and then flush whilst simultaneously reaching down the drain as far as i can. to my delight i feel a furry, wet cats head and pull with all my might. i pull up bumblebutte -- not the cat i expected to find in this toilet, but i guess things get mixed around the sewer. i repeat this process and pull up another cat, but to my surprise it is not bela. it's some other cat. and what's weird is that this cat is not wet at all. i set that cat aside and try again. i pull up yet another non-bela cat so i switch to the other toilet, but the pattern continues. after i've pulled up about a half a dozen cats, none of them bela, none of them wet, i begin to get curious about their origins. i figure that they must be sewer cats which would explain their abundance and why they're not wet (of course). but if these are sewer cats, can sewer rats be far behind? having this thought i contiue my task with great trepidation. thankfully, about four cats later, i pull up bela who is crying and shivering. now i have to figure out what to with all these other cats. should i flush them back down the toilet or just let them loose outside and assume they'll find their way back to the sewer? these cats look kind of tough so i want to get them out before bela decides to pick a fight with them. i open the front door to let them out, but they won't go. they've alrady grown accustomed to their new home. i grumble at the prospect of being on owner of *twelve* cats.
15 dec
it's another one of those "wish i'd written that down sooner" dreams -- i know it was good and i remebered it all the way up until i got to work. now, however, i only remember one small part. our world had turned into some kind of distopian totalitarian state. i was an outsider who, though not a revolutionary, was trying to stay out of the mainstream and not be brainwashed. at some point i was being chased into a warehouse. typical nightmare stuff : my legs are incredibly heavy and i cannot run very fast. i am turning the corner to find shelter in the warehouse when i turn my head and see everyone on the street moving in slow motion and that's when i know something really bad is about to happen. that's how it works in john woo movies, anyway. so i'm running and i get inside the warehouse, but the leader of this distopian nation is already in there -- he knew where i was going -- and has a gun drawn at me. giving up the chase, i throw my hands in the air. just as i do so, a bullet (from opposite the leader) whizzes by my hand grazing my thumb and causing great pain. the bullet hits the leader and he dies instantly. i tuurn around to see whose shot saved my life, but i don't remember who it was.
10 dec
i've been calling and calling jonah's house leaving messages on his answering machine, but he has not been returning my calls, much to my chagrin. they've got a strange message on the machine, but i assume it's just the boys being wacky. the message says:
"Hi! you've reached Two Rays Film Productions. If you're calling for Ray,"and then another male voice chimes in "or Ray," the first voicce continues, "please leave a message after the tone and we'll get back to you as soon as we can."
i mostly think it's odd because the message is not *really* funny, unless i'm missing some joke, so why bother? and also, isn't a silly message bad for their burgeoning new business? after leaving several unreturned messages, i have an epiphany. the prefix to jonah's number is "235" and i'd been dialing "234" -- no wonder he didn't answer! i was leaving my messages at the worng number. i marvel for a while at the odd coincedence that someone with a phone number so similar would also be involved in film production.
9 dec
i am getting ready for a film shoot, loading up a 16mm camera. ghormley is there and i guess he's helping, or maybe just curious about what i'm doing. he asks about the aspect ratio differences between 16mm film and 35mm and i explain that a 35mm frame is quadruple the size of 16, thus giving it a wider aspect ratio and increasing the frame information. as i'm saying this, however, i think to myself 'quadruple?! how can that be?" chris seems to be having the same thought process and questions me on this dubious arithmetic. i don't want to expose myignorance so i become insistent that it works, bullshitting about the sprocket gauge and frame line. i say that i can prove that it works if i can just find some 35 mm film lying around, but i fear what will happen when i do find the film because i don't actually think i can successfully demonstrate this principle. i do find a strip of film and unfurl it -- to my surprise it is quite large, each frame the size of a postcard (3x5, get it?) and this size demonstrates my statement beautifully as i carefully lay four frames of 16 neatly within the frame.
7 dec
at the film center everyone's abuzz about some hip new flick that's going to be showing at the guild. i don't know much about it, but am told it's real cutting edge, revolutionary stuff. i go down to the guild and see a number of regulars standing about -- jacob effert, jonah, kyle, others. there's a poster for the film in the glass case -- i am surprised to see that it looks like a movie poster for a seventies-style porno. i feel a little uncomfortable about going to watch a porn flick, but i don't want to appear a prude. besides, everyone says it's really good. i go inside; the lobby is packed. inside the theater itself there are only a few people (strange compared to how many people are outside in the lobby) watching the film. i take a seat and as soon as i'm settled in, i realize that this is not a film at all, it is in fact a live sex show. cutting edge, indeed! i decide that prudish or not, i am definitely uncomfortable with this annd i get up to leave. i'm almost out the door when i see my mom seated in the back row. i cover my face slyly to keep her from seeing me here.
5 dec
something about going back to high school in order to finish calculus since i never did in real life. the first day of school (well, my first day anyway) there was a test for which i was, not surprisingly, not prepared. i did my best and in a little bit the teacher handed back our graded tests. as she handed me my test back she commended me on my efforts which made me think "wow, after all these years i actually retained enough calculus to do well on a test without studying!" but then i looked down at my paper and saw that i'd gotten a 30 -- a 30! that's lousy even for an F! why did she compliment me? was she just being kind? i read over my answers which were all in essay form. part of it was written in html. where i was supposed to have drawn a graph or something i wrote "img src = image1.jpg" and i wrote it in this curlycue lettering which looked nothing like my usual handwriting. no wonder i did so poorly.
3 dec
typical kind of rushing to the airport dream -- i'm going to france and vanessa is taking me to the airport. we have about a half an hour until my flight when we get to the airport, but i can't find the gate. i say we don't have time to look at one of the airport flight info monitors so instead we run from one end of the airport to the other checking all the gates. my flight was scheduled to leave at 4:10 and it's suddenly 4:30. i give up in defeat.
2 dec
all i remember was that bwana was bing interviewed for a television news magazine type show and i was present for the taping. he was nude except for a small loincloth and sunglasses. he was covered from head to toe in a thick blanket of hair.
29 nov
i am regretting not having written down any of my dreams whilst on vactaion in cali because i know i had some good ones. alas, what is gone shall not be recovered...
last night's is a little fuzzy: ghormley and i are walking around downtown portland.the streets were a labyrinth of trees, wooden bridges, ladders and ropes, like a massive play structure throughout the city. we're going through an "office building" which is really more of a treehouse at around naito and yamhill. we're supposed to meet up with some people in the office, but we can't find them. the only way out of the building is to monkey down criscrossed beams and then take a flying leap at the bottom. i regret my wardrobe choice of a short 'n' sassy skirt, but know that i don't really have a choice so i go for it. when we get to the ground we're right on the river and we start to trek across the hawthrone bridge towards my apartment.
16 nov
very scary ghost story: my friend's boyfriend died, but wouldn't leave her alone. he may have been trying to convince her to join him in the afterlife or maybe just didnt know how to express his affection. in any case he was scaring the crap out of both of us. he'd show up in the living room window, gesture menancingly with an electric drill and chase either her or me around the room. we were having a dinner party with several friends over when he showed up once again. commotion ensued and before i knew what was happening all of our guests were lying dead in a heap all with electric drill wounds in their foreheads. i watched one of the guests involuntarily pick up the drill and drive into her own forehead. the boyfriend ghost watched over this with great amusement. he tossed the drill in my direction and i feared that i too would be possessed by him and inflict a fatal wound on myself. but as he threw it the bit separated from the drill and though it did keep spinning it was no longer dangerous. the bloody, spinning bit and drill landed on my lap and i brushed them off quickly. as soon as i did so, however, i realized what a mistake that was: now my fingerprints were on the drill. hysterical, crying, i ran to my room. my friend came in to comfort me. she asked me what we were going to do and i said "i'm packing a bag and running until they catch me and when they catch me i'll surely get the death penalty and that'll be that." friend said she would go with me and my fate would be hers. we walked back into the dining room, the site of the carnage, and there wasn't a trace of the bloody melee left. bodies, blood, drill, boyfriend -- all gone. i understood that he had done this so there would be no evidence and we wouldnt have to run away. i was both relieved and more frightened -- it almost seemed like we owed him now. i spotted a tiny drop of blood on the floor - something he'd missed - and wiped it up with my hand. friend and i agree to complacent silence on this matter because no one would believe the truth.
12 nov
it's a little vague now but it had something to do with james cromwell being in my mom's house and he was blackmailing my sister and me. i don't know what he wanted from us, but he asked for ham and i found some in the sink and served it to him in a bowl.
5 nov
a group of us incluing myself and the portland center stage cast of 'rosenkrantz and guildenstern are dead' travel back in time to about 1982. david ivers is there and he's kind of our leader. he has a newspaper from our time which he asks me to hold. we're in a park and there's some kind of picnic party going on. i know that 8 year old me is somewhere in the crowd so i go to look for me. along the way i run into people and try to impress them with my 1999 newspaper and technical wonders like cds. discretion is just not my strong suit. i am sad to realize i cant show them how the cds work since i dont have a player. the newspaper gets disseminated among the people in the crowd. i wander off finding myself in the guild theater as it looks today. i wonder how i'm going to catch up with the others in the group when suddenly they're there at the bottom of the stairs. they look peeved. "veronica," david starts out sternly, "where's the newspaper?" i explain what happened to it and everyone looks at me scornfully. "we needed that paper to get back," he says with a combination of condescencion and frustration.
31 oct
i'm going out on the town with friends, including craig, darcy, noah, and surprise guest star jennifer esperanza. something's up... everyone's whispering together, not so much trying to keep me out as igniring me altogether. we're walking around downtown and i tell myslef i'm just being paranoid as usual, but then everyon's gone -- theyve disappeared into some storefront and one by one they emerge having changed into formal evening wear. i am dressed casually in jeans just as they all had been a few minutes earlier. they say they though it would be fun to dress up in formals and go out to dinner. i express my dismay at not being informed. they shrug and say "well, you can still come to dinner if you want" but presence is clearly not a priority. besides there's no way i'd sit in a fancy restaurant being the only one dressd down. i officialy lose it. "Look," i say, my voice rising shakily, "fuck all y'all! really!" they are genuinely taken aback by my outburst. i continue, "you've been treating me like shit all night and i'm not going to take it anymore. you're all jerks! and i know what you're going to say now -- that i'm overreacting," -- at this point craig make a grunting sound as if to agree with this sentiment -- "but i can't take this anymor so i hope you all enjoy your fucking dinner!" with that i slam the door and storm out of the room feeling pretty proud of myself. almost immediately after i leave i can hear them talking and laughing in the room. i press my ear to the door to try to make out what they're saying. al i can hear is craig saying something about how he's glad i'm finally gone. sulking i go off to work which is housed in the sidekicks lounge. there's some kind of meeting in the living room so i take a seat. jacob effert shows up and is gesticulating at me from the door so i get up to talk to him. there's been some kind of emrgency and he needs me to drive him somewhere -- the hospital? i wonder to myself how he maanged to get to the studio with out a car
30 oct
at auntie jojo's house for dinner and she says, "you'd better get used to eating lap chuoung" as she opens up the rice steamer and reveals that she's steamed sausages with the rice. i say "i don't eat lap chuong anymore" and she seems pretty upset about that. i try to explain to her that i'm a vegetarian and pork is definitely right out. "i'll maybe eat fish or chicken occasionally," i say, "but no pork or beef. you know that." as i say each meat catagory i see a projected image of the foodstuff in question on the wall behind auntie. it's kind of like an eductaional filmstrip style, like "where meat comes from" circa 1964. i say that vanessa is a vegetarian, too, and what did she expect to serve her? she says she has lentils and has made an indian dal, but there's only enough for her. people begin to arrive. justin is there and talking to vanessa.
11 oct
in some large public square in a foreign country of indeterminate location. i am collecting alphabets to take home and adorn my room. many of the vendors in the square hock tablets, tiles, posters and blocks featuring many of the world's written languages presented in an attractive manner. i nearly swoon when i find a genuine ancient egyptian tablet with engraved hieroglyphics. i notice that on the masonry of the square's floor there are patches that are inscribed in arabic, quite probably the most beautiful written language humans ever created. i think about creating a large-scale installation using the entire square as museum for my collection of alphabets.
i wake up thinking about the rosetta stone.
9 october
in church during a mass, but i am not part of the congreagtion. not sure why i amthere. a disgruntled parishoner is voicing his doubt and frustration with the church and its doctrines. he asks "why do we need to be here every sunday? what's the point of all this self-denial and self-effacement the church asks of us? what do we gain from it?" he is clearly upset and possibly mentally unbalanced. i feel it is probably not my place to say anything being a lapsed catholic, but no one else moves to comfort or sympathize with the man so when he again wails "what do we gain from it?!" i look up from what i'm doing and say sarcastically, "oh i don't... eternal life, maybe?" i hear a single person clapping from across the room and it's jennifer esperanza's brother rodney. jerf is also sitting next to him. i consider explaining that i am not actually very religious and what i really meant by the comment was that he should know the teachings of his own religion, ferpetessake but i decide not to engage in that kind of discussion in the midst of the gatehred flock. instead i go about my business, but the parishoners, rodney in particular, are harassing the man for questioning his faith and extolling me for my perceived piety. teh man is very upset and cowers from the onslaught. i go to him and and hug him tightly as if to shield his body from the insults. he is very tall so even though he is on his knees his had hits my chest. the crowd quiets down a bit when the priest takes to the altar and begins his sermon. the man is still whimpering his questions of faith so to calm him i whisper the doctrines of the catholic church in his ear as the sermon continues. at some point i am saying the same words as the sermon in perfect synch. i am as surprised as the man that we and the priest are sayimg the same thing at the same time, but i act as if i had planned this
5 oct 1999
mom brings home from work (kaiser hsopital) a pint of peanut butter fudge ice cream. it is in a plain white tub with the kaiser logo on the front and a non-descript label identifying the flavor. it is unusually deliciious and i ask her what the deal is with this hospital ice cream and she tells me that there is a man who works in the cafeteria and makes ice cream when he has free time. just kind of a hobby of his and it turnsout that he is wonderfully talented in the frozen dessert arts and peopl are actually making special trips to the hospital cafeteria just to have his ice cream. i decide to go visit to see what he has. he scoops the ice cream into ball and keeps all these pre-formed balls in one bucket so there are several different ice cream varieties in one bucket. when you order he just randomly reaches in the bucket and goves you whatever flavor he pulls out. i am lucky enough to get one of my favorite flavors, mint chocolate chip. unlike usual mint choc chip this ice cream is white with little white (mint) and chocolate flakes. though the ice cream itself is flavored mintily it is not that garish, unnatural green shade you would normally find. the flake melt in your mouth as soon as your tongue hits them. needless to say, a very fine ice cream. i have been craving this ice cream since having this dream. someone told me that haagen dazs has something similar.
25 sep
all i remember is that frederic law olmstead is alive, black and livingin portland. to me alone does he reveal his secret identity : by day he is the world's most celebrated landscape architect, but by night he is known as the mighty HOBART, scourge of greedy restraunteurs, ally of the lowly dishwashers of the world. his goal is to organize the world's dishwashers into a kind of union, but one that fights injustice on a grand scale. naturally, his quest begins in portland.
13 sep
yet another little timmy dream -- is anyone counting? how many have there been over the last year or so? anyway, i am at home getting ready to go see "sesame street on ice" at the lloyd center skating rink. darcy is going and maybe my mom is, too. darcy tells me that duncan (?) is coming over to visit before we head off and that he's bringing a "surprise". i briefly hope that teh "surprise" is in the form of one little timmy, but i dare not wish for it too much. when duncan arrives we are already on our way out the door to the skating rink. i greet duncan warmly, but am exuberant when he steps aside to reveal little timmy. we hug and declare how good it is to see each other. i apologize and say that we really must be going but he should accompany us to the ice rink even if he can't go in. we walk along the street adn reminesce along the way. i tell him about my recurring dreams about finding him and tell him how happy i am that i've finally found him for real.
10 september
i and an intrepid gang of friends are being stalked by the devil. apparently one of us made some promise of a soul and backed out of the deal. he's hot on our trail when we take refuge in an old abandoned library. in the tower (like the thesis tower) the devil suddenly leaps out me from the darkness while i am alone. we are locked in battle and i have him in a half nelson. i must be choking him pretty hard because he passes out but is still alive. i try finishing off the job, but find my hnds too small to wrap around his burly neck. so i grab a small pair of scissors, like the surgical kind, and make a jab at his jugular. with precision that surprises me i uncover a massive vein in his neck and neatly snip it releasing an unfettered flow of blood. just to be safe i do other side, too. though he seems to be losing a lot of blood he still breathes raspily. the others have heard the commotion and have gathered around. "he's not dying!" i say to them. "aw shit, he's not *immortal* is he?!" the guy who had promised the devil his soul says "no, no, no. he's totally mortal" and he gives the devil one big whack on the head and bam! he's dead. since he is the one responsible for killing he devil all the devil's powers were transferred to him. he immediately fashions himself as a mammoth deity complete with massive size (like 50 feet tall) and ridiculous headgear and then starts bossing people around. i get annoyed that he's being just like the original devil -- i.e, evil -- even though he more than anyone shoud be sympathetic to those oppresed by the devil. disgusted, i go downstairs where darcy(?) is watching TV. i share the events of the last few moments in a very matter-of-fact way and shrug when i get to the end of the story. "absolute power corrupts absolutely, i guess," i aphorize.
31 august
all i remember is that right before i woke up i was dreaming that i was in a factory where they were making the new macintosh G4s. i was watching them literally roll off the assembly line and i was explaining to a faceless companion the purpose bhind these new machines and why they were so great. this dream is really only notable for the fact that somwhere in my subconscious i had completely internalized the entire ny times article i had read earlier that day and repeated it back nearly verbatim in the dream
27 august
for some unfathomable reason i've adopted a pet rat. it's a honkin' huge one, too, just about the sam esize as my cat. and i think it was wild, too, only recently turned on to the comforts of domestication. i am sleeping in my bed when the rat lumbers up to snuggle under the covers with me. it would be an adorable action if it weren't a rat. i feel bad for the fear and loathing i feel. by taking this rat as my pet i have implicitly agreed to be a loving parent to it regardless of my phobia. still, i can't sleep with that creature in my bed anad i start to shift around a bit which apparently stresses out the rat who now begins biting and clawing at the blankets. i am trying to get it out of my bed, but i can't find it because it's burrowed itself somewhere deep in the blankets. eventually i find it and it's really biting my hand a lot and i start to worry about rabies. i know that if i let go of the rat now i'll nver see it again, but if i cant bring it in to the doctor with me i'm going to have to get rabie injections one way or another. i consider bashing its head in to keep it from squirming and biting (i.e., killing it) but i dont think i can bring myself to do it. besides it;s too strong and larg for me to fight very effectively. when i wake up i am sweating profusely , breathing shallowly and paralysed in a tautly stretched postion with my hands balled into little fists under my chin. very scary
20 august 1999
i am in a bad suspense/thriller flick playing sharon stone's husband. she is very promiscuous and indiscrete. i dont care in particular (especially since i'm a chick and not too terribly interested in getting it on w/ sharon stone myself even though i know i am supposed to be her loving husband). she is upset by my indifference to her evil ways so she taunts me with her deeds. one night at a party in a large ballroom she runs into the room and throws a pile of shredded bloody clothes in my lap, staining my tuxedo. she laughs. i go outside to dump the bloody clothes in the dumpster and when i return she is missing. i halfheartedly search for her but ultimately decide just to go home. as i'm leaving there is some kind of commotion going on up front. a body has been found in one of the hotel rooms. upon investigation i find that it;s her body, very badly mutilated. in fact, she looks as shredded as the clothes i just dumped. oh shit, i suddenly think, they're going to think i did this. i back out of the room and into a cop who handcuffs me and says that they have witnesses placing me at the scene and furthermore seeing me leave with bloody clothes and dumping them outside. it's all over for me and i wonder who killed her anyway.
26 july 1999
something about being in the wedding party for constance and rocky's wedding, but the person coordinating all the bridesmaids and groomsmen (and there were like 25 of each) wouldn't let me participate and i was really cranky so i just went to go sit in the church. everybody was singing "red slurpee" by ben lee which i thought was kind of sweet but kinda cornball for constance and rocky. i mean, would you allow in your wedding a song that said "in the 7-11 of my soul, it's got everything to do with rock n' roll"? i think not.
then there was something about buying cinnamon-spearmint icecream spread on a sheet of wax paper, but i cant really remember it because i woke up to the sounds of my next door neighbors doing construction -- i think they're buidling a moat or the taj mahal or something.
18 july 1999
i've gone back to school to pursue a graduate degree. my very large lecture class (like 500+ students) meets late at night in the leture hall. on this particular night the professor is running late so the class is postponed until almost midnight. we all convene at the appointed time. as i'm crawling over people to get to my seat i see jeanne there and purposefully step on her foot as i squeeze past. the professor still isnt there yet, his assistant announces, but he should only be a few minutes. the professor's assistant is a portly middle aged woman who plays the piano while he lectures and before he starts to warm up the crowd. while we waited she would play for us. as she starts up her tune i hear a murmur rising on the other side of the lecture hall. in the front row across the way sat the one and only tom waits. *the* tom waits. everyone has noticed by now and the din in the hall is so great that the assistant has to stop playing and she leaves the room. everyone in the hall is calling for tom to play a song on the piano now. he waves away the request, trying to go unnoticed. but under pressure he finally concedes and goes to the piano. he's just playing a few notes, not really a song. the professor's here now and he's ready to start his lecture but everyone's shouting to hear his song first/ so he says "okay, just a short one." and he begins banging discordantly on the keyboard and shouting his lyrics (which i know i heard, but i can't recall) -- all in all, very bone machine. simultaneously while he plays his song he grabs a hold of the slide projector remote control. using the slides the professor was to use for the lecture he makes a light and image show to go along with the song. this is probably the most impressive bit of the routine that he could incorporate this serendipitous element into his show. the professor is going to have a tough act to follow.
17 July 199
Since starting my new job with my wonky new sleep schedule, sleep and dreaming has become rather irregular. and what dreams i have had in the past few weeks have been garden variety anxiety dreams about work -- usually a dream about having screwed up whatever i'd been working on that day (perhaps psychic dreams because i invariably would find the next day that i had indeed screwed up). three weeks into my new job and i'm finally starting to have "normal" dreams again. like last night...
i have a metal plate on my wrist. it is part of my body, actually fused with my skin. with a flick of my wrist the plate flips up and from within me a hologram is projected. it projects one of a seemingly infinte and random assortment of warriors, enemies i am supposed to fight. it's a training program so that i can learn to be a warrior. it's kind of like jedi knight school. i project these warriors of varying skill levels and fight the holograms so that when i encounter the real life villians i will be prepared.
a large group of us are having a party at my mom's house. we decide to have a rumble in the streets -- a friendly one, but violent. we break up into two teams (arbitrarily chosen, i think0 and fill up two shopping carts with beer bottles. i am pretty sure that my team will win because i've had all that hologram training. we roll them out into the street. we will meet each other head on and start flinging bottles at each other. my team decides to go fo rthe sneak attack and circle around to come up behind the other team. we're almost there and a scout comes back to say "they're onto us they've already turned around and they know we're coming from behind." we know there's no way we can win now -- they've turned our sneak attack into their own. rather than get pummelled we don't even meet the opposing team and return home. at homei realize that there's some rocery shopping i need to do and we all go out to the store together. on the way back we stop to watch a movie. upon arriving back home, i wonder where the othe rteam is. we go out into the streets to look for them, but they're not there. i look out the second story bathroom window to see if i can spot them -- they're all lined up agianst the wall right beneath the window -- they think we're still playing the game and they've reinforced the north side of the house expecting us to attack from that direction. we need to go downstairs and tell them that we're not playing anymore -- or maybe we should attack now that we've got the drop on them! i and another male teammate start to set to gather up the troops for an attack, but we get distracted and go to sleep instead.
in teh morning, everyone from the party (including members of teh other team) are all gathering in the kitchen for breakfast. i laugh at tehm and ask how long they waited for us outside. one of them blushes, demures and says "oh, only til about 5:00." which i know is bs because *we* stopped playing around that time and it was many hours later taht we saw them under the window, but i don't press teh matter. everyone's watching saturday cartoons and having a good time and i don't want to spoil it. as i scooch in on the floor in front of the tv with everyone else, i notice that everyone's naked except me and this makes me feel very self-conscious.
3 July 1999
I am in a restaurant ordering a meal. I've got the very colorful children's menu which includes not only dishes kids can order, but recipes and fun activities. I decide on the French Toast, but am continuing to get amusement from the menu so I hang onto it and pretend like I'm not ready to order yet. There's a series of suggestions on what to do with bubble gum. One is the "Clean Face Facial" which says if you blow bubble gum in a clean sheet all over your face and peel it off all at once it'll make your skin soft and smooth. Also it suggests that if you whistle your favorite tune while blowing a bubble the bubble will be misshapen and tumorous. There was a picture of kid with a disgusting looking growth emerging from his lip, meant to demonstrate what your bubble would look like if you follwoed this advice. Ugh!
[note that since I never did get my French Toast in the dream, I woke up and made myself a n extra yummy batch of the breakfast treat.]
2 July
I've rented a car to learn how to drive in. I wanted a compact, but the only vehicle they had available was a Buick - a massive one at that. It's so large that I can't even leave it outside as it would take up the whole road; I have to park it in the living room. After the car is parked I start to go over the manual. Bumblebutte wanders in and promptly pisses on the car seats. I'm dizzy with anger; I pick him up and shake him asking him through the tears of anger "Why? Why did you do that?! I thought you'd stopped that!" He looks at me smugly and says "I was only pretending to stop. I've just been waiting for something really valuable to ruin." He knows he's got me beat. I consider killing him, but that wouldn't really help anything. What's worse is that he gets all the sympathy from others because I shook him in violence and he's just a cat.
1 July
Not much to grab onto from this dream· all I recall is being in the backyard of my mother's house, trying to smuggle a large (very large - the size of a pumpkin) diamond out of the house, but I had to pass by security check which was located at the backyard's gate. I concealed the diamond in a large black velvet bag, but that wouldn't be enough as they had x-ray machines as well. I went inside and recruited Vanessa to help me. She took the diamond and nonchalantly walks up to the security gate and before they even notice she swings the bag under the gate, bypassing the detectors.