Dream Log 03/22/2008

The dream took place in some kind of musty room downstairs. My father was training me to be a figure skater, though at the time, it seemed more like he was training me to fence. My training involved cleaning up the room. For one, I had to assemble my old bed.

A friend of mine was also there, acting as an assistant. The room had a raised platform on one side, which is where the rink was.

The midpoint of the dream involved it being St. Patrick's Day (I recall it was March 17), which mean both I and my brother (who had since joined us) were "legal." My brother was 18 and I was 21. This math actually works out pretty well. In real life, both my brother's and my birthdays are in March, mine taking place on the 18th. We're also three years apart, so if this dream takes place in the year were turned 18 and 21, the logic works out.

St. Patrick's Day, in this world, apparently is a major holiday. My dad officiates it as if he were a minister, though more like a Mormon minister, where each adult male is considered a minister of the church. It seems to be a kind of reverse Lent, one day when you're allowed to visit old vices. We listened on the radio to the announce who commented about having cigarettes, which was the "typical" vice to indulge in on St. Paddy's. (In the real world, it ain't this, is it?) My father did this, smoking one cigarette and holding another, even though this would stink up the room. In real life, my dad did used to smoke.

My dad's idea for my brother and I was to loose our virginities. It would be our vice. Since the service, two girls have shown up. (The cast of my dreams are very fluid, you see.) One girl I think was Halley from my previous dream. I don't know who the other girl, but she was indelibly Scott's mate. My dad tells me this tavern saying (I've never heard this is the real world, so I dreamed it up): "Even if you close the bar, you should leave open the back room." In the dream, the meaning was much more obvious and clever. In the real world, I don't think even the concepts hold. When dad and my buddy say it, it's kind of naughty, a desire to have sex.

I'm letting Scott go first, so I carry my pillow into the next room, where the girls are sleeping. I carry it like I would a woman (I'm being ceremonial for some reason), as I'm about to do the same to Halley. I do carry away, telling her the tavern quote. When I say it to her, it seems romantic, as I'm letting Scott have his day.

We leave the room, which in retrospect is strange. For most of the dream, it was like we were in some kind of post-apocalyptic setting where the room was all we had. Now, the room is apparently just the old attic space in my parent's house. (I'm not very architecturally-minded, so all the locations in my dream world tend to structurally resembled places I know). Anyway, Dad is eating cereal. The bowl is the size of a large mixing bowl and the cereal is apparently in water, because I can see it. He serves me some and I choke it down, because it's some kind of high-fiber cereal. He laughs as I try it. I reach for some more. However, instead of grabbing the spoon, I just dip it out of the bowl. My dad falls to his knees as if I'd infected his breakfast. I try to explain that since I'm in college now, I forget what it's like to share food.

In real life, I don't fish out cereal from a bowl, though I do let my table manners slide when I'm alone. I have perfectly respectably manners in public.

Anyway, it's at this point I realize that I'm dreaming, because I can feel myself waking up. Even before I'm in the world of the waking, I'm cursing the sun for waking me up before I get to lose my virginity.