Dream Log 2/6/2009

It was such a mundane dream I’m pretty embarrassed that I even bothered to post it.

The setting of the dream was my parents’ house, even though it looked like my apartment.

I find my brother working on the computer. He’s trying to create new partitions on our computer’s disk drive. This is odd for several reasons.

1) My brother would not know a disk drive partition if it hit him on the head. Granted, because it’s a purely virtual entity, composed of electrons, he probably wouldn’t feel it.
2) After waking up, it took me, someone with an IT background, to recall what was going on in real life.

Anyway, I start to help him, including transferring the files on a partition I accidentally made when I was younger trying to save a file. This is also preposterous, because it’s exceedingly difficult to make a partition without trying. Anyway, I moved a couple of files, including one for my mom (who showed up at some point). There were a couple of files from when I was fifteen having to do with the “Diamond Bonders,” which was a fan fiction idea I was throwing around in high school, and a couple of files that exposed my crush on a girl named Anna.

There was a brief conversation with my mom about where to store the files.

This kind of stuff happens in my life all the time: helping my brother with the computer, discussing computer issues with my mom, etc. So, in other words, the first time I get to bed on time in weeks and I dream about real life. What a crock. Having strange and/or unusual dreams is the reason I don’t take hallucinogenic drugs.

Dream Log 1/31/2009

The dream begins with a kindergarten teacher explaining an art project: decorate a sheet of paper that’s going to be a candy wrapper: the kind with a round hard candy in the middle that’s twisted on either side and looks like a bow-tie.

When I get to my school amalgam* (a cross between my junior high and my high school), a small line of students are at the front desk, announcing dangerous landmarks to add to this computerized map displayed on drop-down screens encircling the front office area. A girl, no idea who is she or why she’s even talking to me, starts talking about riding in a hot air balloon with her friends, without an operator. This is clearly meant to be some sort of metaphor for high school kids joy-riding or something. I decide to report this illegal hot air balloon launch site. There are three receptionists in this school front desk that looks more like a mall information desk. Anyway, I misinterpret the flow dynamics and as two of the receptionists go on break, I’m forced to get behind a group of students. Now, had this dream gone longer, this group would have become important secondary characters, because they were sent over by Affirmative Action Casting Co., and the leader of this group was a slightly overweight African-American male with a take-charge attitude and a strong sense of right and wrong.

So, I report the balloon site to the remaining receptionist. He’s a tall, lean Caucasian man who had this dream gone longer, would have become a tertiary part. He may have been gay, but maybe not. It really doesn’t matter since he’s a background character.

Anyone, the sweet kindergarten teacher arrives at a school that’s meant to be either a junior high or a high school, ready to give her students the candy wrapper art project. She’s carrying the little plastic bins with her students’ names on them. Some of the students haven’t finished. Oh, I guess at this point I’m late for class. And so is she. Maybe it’s yesterday’s project. Er, dream logic.

So, we head over. The classroom is devoid of students when we arrive. I’m slightly suspicious; she acts like nothing’s wrong as she begins to admire the large candy wrappers that have already been designed. She talks at length about this one candy wrapper that looks like a famous candy wrapper with stripes of color, only giving a new color scheme from the original. Again, I’m probably about 17 in this dream, and my classmates around 11, and the teacher definitely a kindergarten teacher. Er, dream logic.

So a giant monster attacks. Or something. This part of the dream is blurry. But whatever happened in this forgotten portion of the dream must have been fantastic, because this is the next thing I remember:

Superman has successfully wrapped two enemies (monsters?) in the giant candy wrapper, aided by two bulls. Okay, I probably became Superman, which does happen a lot in my dreams (both seamlessly becoming a new character and becoming Superman in particular). I may have been aided by Supergirl. And the teacher disappeared. Maybe she became Supergirl. I don’t think so though. Then there’s the two talking bulls. They’re green or something. (Paul Bunyan’s bull’s cousins, I guess.) And whenever Superman/me wraps up the enemies in the giant candy wrapper, which is now about ten feet long, the bulls are able to headbutt it and have the enemies come falling out the end, piñata-style. They then jump onto the candy and bounce away. It’s like in kids’ shows when the kids jump on a book or something and bouncing, trampoline-like, into Magical Wonderland. Except in this case, the bulls bounce across town to the fairground. Superman/me goes there too and unbeknownst to any of us, we’re about to be joined on our next adventure by the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, who are talking on walkie-talkies with Splinter, who is at the Turtle Home Base meditating.

The dream doesn’t go any further than that. But this is actually the type of dream I’ve been wanting for a while. The kind that makes me want to partake in illicit hallucinogenic drugs.

*This is the school amalgam from a previous dream. While I didn’t explore it like in my other dream, this is a labyrinthine school involving four or five stories connected by wide, open-air staircases. The bottom floor is underground, with rows of classrooms. It is quite easy and quite fun to get lost in a place like this.

Dream Log 06/17/2008

It began like the Halloween 2007 Episode of CSI: NY that I watched last night: a blunt-force trauma guy wandering around a crowded street with a bunch of guys in zombie costumes. How this relates to the rest of the dream I don’t recall.

I forget what happens in between.

Then there’s the part where I’m at Ashley’s house. Again, decidedly unromantic. We’re racing around to house to make Cheryl and her new boyfriend comfortable. I don’t know if one of them is sick or something. It involves a lot of running around the kitchen and creative uses for the utensils we find there. At one point, I come to the realization that the fact I’m step-siblings with Ashley gets me over my crush. I don’t know how that works (now or in the dream). Cheryl’s boyfriend is not Dad, but apparently it’s some guy with some sort of familial or symbolically familial relationship with me, though the latter wouldn’t lend much credence to seeing Ashley as my step-sister. There’s some laying on the bed that I can’t remember much about.

There’s a strange transition because all of a sudden it’s me who’s close to death or something. Strangely, I don’t recall any feelings of fear or accepting the afterlife. It’s more about this little community finding me to be some kind of inspiration. I’m either physically incapable or superhumanly capable.

The part I most clearly remember is this: I’m giving free range of this church in the middle of a sermon. The pastor is a very stuffy, dogmatic guy who looks like Rev. Graham. I start bouncing below this large balcony that the pastor is preaching from. I keep grabbing onto the railing, causing the ends of the balcony to collapse. One side I destroy, then I go for the other. Everything has super significance. When I tear down everything on the left side of the balcony I just leap up and use my head to break a hole in the floor. The pastor, who was trying to aid or stop me, gets hurt and points to the bookcase behind the former wall, allowing me to climb up.

What I find up there, my quest, was the sound system, which I play loudly, only finding music. It had fallen into disuse. This is apparently symbolic of free speech against a tyrannical pastor. Later, a parishioner who was a friend of mine, as taken a lecture into the aisles and now regularly interrogates senators and other people, to get to the truth in some kind of town meeting setting. I try telling him that it was a whim that got me to that point, but I keep getting interrupted.

Dream Log 06/13/2008

Okay, it begins with me in some town. I forget why, but I’m racing around, trying to save people. It’s like I’m part of some hero group and these are civilians I’m saving. It’s almost video game-like. I grab one girl then another. For some reason now they’re naked. (It turned into a bit of a naughty dream.) I carry both in my arms to the home base or something. All the while, I’m fondling the girls, who are sort of unconscious. When they awake, I continue apologizing, claiming what I’m doing is an accident when it’s on purpose. The girls (the top one is cuter than the second) either believe me or don’t care.

I drop them off at a room in the base. It’s actually just a large bedroom with several bunkbeds, arranged not bunker style but like it’s an actual house. They’re a lot of young women in there in various states of undress. I am impressed with my ability to carry two women and admire myself on the way to the bedroom.

I got to the headquarters bedroom of the base, where I discover that Voldemort has kicked out the rest of the team. I struggle with him for a while, but finally realize my omnipotence and just smack him.

I then realize it’s time for some minor voyeurism so I find the attic space door and crawl in. There’s no wood, just insulation, so I get a rug and some shoes. After a lot of trying to figure out how to pull this off, I do get in, a powerless Voldemort on the bed taunting me. I do get in and find the window area to the bedroom. By now, all the girls are dressed for bed. I peek in through a square cutout of the door. I’m being too noisy and the girls try to peek in but I hide. But since one door of the opening is completely open, I pop up to say hi.

After a little bit, there’s an argument on the floor. A boy (the room’s not exclusive anymore) is playing a coin game with this other girl. He says he has enough “diarrhea” meaning quarters, but Mom comes in to argue the rules of the game.

In the background, Scott is playing some kind of G/T initiation game. I realize since he’s a freshman in college, he hasn’t been in G/T for four years. (Longer in the real world.) It involves blindfolds and Santa Claus and other ridiculousness.

Dream Log 06/08/2008

(Visiting my parents’ lake house always gives me exciting dreams)

The first part I remember is that I’m with Ashley (for the first time, 100% platonic in a dream). We’re at college and there’s this building which has been damaged. There’s a lot of foreboding.

Other stuff happens. I can’t recall.

Then, a very scary scene where the building work site starts to fall.

It begins with an H-beam falling and crushing this guy who was sitting on another H-beam. Then the entire building starts collapsing. There’s a crane with several metal rods above us, so we flee. It’s a long scene, done well with lots of special effects.

I race around the campus. It doesn’t look anything like my real college campus.

All around campus, university employees are dealing with the accident.

In one room, they’re working on a press release. On TV, there’s the daily news, and it seems weird to me that the collapse isn’t on TV, even though it’s one of many stories. It just seems callous because I was there.

Then I got to a desk where Shosh is working. I want to borrow her phone, but she picks it up. Seeing me, she hangs up, but I let her call. She seems thankful, so it must have been important.

Then, I go see Ashley. She’s working in some kind of center.

It later transfers. It’s showing a video about this leprosy sanctuary where loved ones can house their family members in these coffin-like boxes cemented just below the ground. They’re nasty and on this island in the ocean where the waves wash over and clean off the dead skin or something. There’s a small hole for them to look out of and one hand sticks out outside the lid. When they finally pass, they can be thrown away. By the time they’re dead, they’re practically skeletal.

There’s this thing you can do to help. Somehow I’m there or something. When the waves crash in, you and a partner get a bucket of water. Everyone at Ashley work does this. And I do it with a male friend of my who works the same job as Ashley freelance. Also, Hillary Clinton and some fifty-something actress do it; Hillary’s doing it because the actress challenged her to and Hillary accepted. Apparently it’s a liberal thing to do because John McCain and the governor (a Republican) have teamed up and are trying to stop it. The governor (or the mayor) uses the key to the city to try to unlock the door.

Dream Log 05/21/2008

The Miniature Killer from CSI, who in my dream wasn’t the crazy girl but this 16-year-old boy. He’d led around by an 18-year-old. A classic dominant-submissive relationship. The older boy carries around various weapons (surgical scissors, a hacksaw).

Grissom and James Rhodes from the Iron Man movie are tracking him at this house, a stone mini-mansion. Rhodes’ two young sons are also there.

Inside this one room, after Rhodes goes to check on something, the older boy comes in and threatens Grissom. It’s classic one-up-menship, mind and might. On the floor, Rhodes’ sons and the Miniature Killer play this game. It’s an electronic board game, laid out in check, with numbers crisscrossed. The object seems to be touching them with your fingers in some kind of order. The miniature killer catches on quickly, though doesn’t succeed. Rhodes, familiar with the game, does.

Then Rhodes goes away and the older kid disables him and comes back for Grissom then there’s a struggle then I wake up.

Dream Log 05/20/2008

It may or may not have started in the juvenile prison yard episode of Standoff that I watched last night.

The first part I remember is being in a large, fancy hotel, wearing a wedding dress. In this dream, I may have been female, because this didn’t strike me as strange. My wedding is coming up in the next day or so. Probably it’s later. Anyway, I’m roaming around, looking at the band stand or something. Perhaps it’s for the reception.

I think this was a self-aware dream, because I knew I was out of place. I didn’t know why I was getting married, so I was trying to figure this out.

Anyway, I get into the elevator. I have no idea what floor I’m on, but I somehow deduce that it’s floor 76. It’s partially a guess, and sort of figured out the same way Internet history is figured out.

In the elevator, I look at myself in the mirror, and it begins to dawn on me something is wrong, because my (male) haircut doesn’t look good in the wedding dress.

I walk around floor 76. I find a room, called the “Enjoyment Room” or something. On side is a billiards table area and the other is a small theater. I then find the entrance to a restaurant, where I ask about my room. I’m looking for either “Christopher Verdery” or “Christopher Dunn.” Another realization of why would my last name change if I'm male?

At this point, I’m assuming it’s the Honeymoon Suite, so he directs me to Room 34. When I find it, there’s a big push-lever on the door. It says something weird, like “Emergency Exit,” which begins to spark the realization that this is a dream, and the dream is trying to fix that, but it can’t replace the memory. I begin to realize that I’m probably in the future.

So, I go in, and there are my parents and Marcus and Tara. They’re eating cake and I’m a little jealous. (Cake is a recurring theme lately.) So, I go to one of the rooms to change out of the wedding dress. Inside, I see a minister in the mirror. But he’s not really there. He’s actually a ghost or something. He doesn’t realize I can see him. I try to hit him, but to no avail. I then begin to suspect that he’s gay and that he’s been inhabiting me for a while, which is why I’m wearing a wedding dress.

I then walk in the room, about the break the news. Inside the dream, I’m imagining scenarios where the guy tries to kiss me and I block him. Or maybe Mr. Dunn is a hot chick parading around in a tuxedo and this is some game. Regardless, I go back to the bedroom and start to write about this dream. My laptop starts instantly so in the dream, I figure I left it on. But something doesn’t feel right, so I wake up for real.