• It was the last day of school, and for some reason afterward I rode the (city) bus from my high school to my up and coming college. In a previous dream of mine, the city bus system had made huge reforms, and those were in this dream too, it made a nice touch.

    There was a girl sitting behind me who was interested in me. She made little excuses to talk, and pretty soon, she was sitting next to me. We talked about ourselves while causual contact was abundant. Eventually she learned that I would never go to that school again and that made her sad.

    She found out I took nerdy classes (like AP BC Calculus) and said none of her older friends would have known me since they didn't take those kinds of classes. She was really worried about not seeing me again, but I told her I would be riding the bus to college.

    She then laughed, and told me I wouldn't be riding it from the high school, and that's what mattered. She then said, while she was laughing, "You smart kid, you can do any certain task so easily, but when it comes to making general conclusions..."

    Pretty soon it was my stop. I got off the bus. Then I noticed I hadn't gotten any contact information from her.

- / +

  • I felt bad gossiping to one kid about another.

  • 8 1/2 months pregnant she walks gingerly, perfect round belly.

  • Preparing two packages for Bizz and being careful not to mail them accidentally, too soon. Starburst, safety pins. I kept putting things in the envelopes but they didn't get any heavier.

  • Was it Creche or Candice that we threw off the cliff? She was being a nuisance. She screamed and clawed and tried to pull everyone else over the edge too. I was preoccupied - someone had thrown a wig at me that was as big and heavy as a fur coat; it knocked me down and I lay trapped between dust and hair.

  • WHAM! Paper. Hit me like a semicircle.

  • Was it a real beach or a dream beach? A little lake with big rocks on the shore. Bizz was there - her JoEllen might have taken us there on a Memorial Day years ago. It felt like a tradition.

  • Hiding in the closet from the Lord of Evil. He'd already killed everyone else he was looking for. I had an advantage because I could tap into his brain and he couldn't tell. His computer systems could track my existence on the ship, my life signal, but not my specific movement. I jumped my brain down to the lower deck for a minute and was instantly sorry because I could see the fighting in the sky from there. I went back up to my deck. I found a dead man and stapled him to the bulletin board and stapled my uniform on top of him. I slit his throat and his belly and made it look messy. I was pretty sure the Lord of Evil didn't know what my face looked like, and he might think it was me hanging there. To make my life signal blink out, I covered myself in heaps of polyester clothing as I crouched in the closet. He was coming, I could hear his heavy feet.

  • Going to see Dinosaur with my dad, in a church. We sat down but a little girl in a white dress wasn't satisfied and moved us a few pews up. I was behind an old woman with an immense bush of hair.

  • Estimating the number of words on a page was a lot like hang-gliding, and we all thought that was pretty funny.
  • The walls were white, thin, closing in. Others were there already. I thought it was just another room; an extension of the party that was going on below. They were in a line leading to the far wall, staring up at me with pleading looks. Most of them I knew, some I didn't. The far wall was on fire and the line of people was gradually being pulled toward the terrible heat. They held on to each other, trying desperately to avoid the slow pull into death, but it was no use. Suddenly, I was part of the line. A man walked by and laughed; he must have been responsible. I felt the desperation, the fear. There was nothing I could do but wait. I prayed for safety, and then i woke up. I pulled the covers to my face and breathed deeply.

  • Playing my trollish Paladin in ADOM. Just for doing the puppy quest, he went from Chaotic to Neutral.

  • I was in a dance production at my high school, a Michael Jackson tribute featuring something from Thriller. I and some of my friends went out onto the stage (which was more like the stage at my grade school) in a triangular pattern, doing chains of dance steps that were a mixture of different songs' steps from the spring dance program IRL. Someone was carrying a huge leg bone. It quickly became evident that no one had a clue what he was doing, and we milled about in confusion for a few moments before our dance teacher and the sound technicians shouted for us to start over. Thankfully, the audience was sparse, so few people saw our embarrassment as the music stopped and we shuffled off stage.

    To get practice for the next performance, I went to Best Buy or a similar store to shop for MJ videos. I found a number of videos and CD's hung up on a hardware rack, but "Thriller" was not among them. Instead I picked up a Jackie Chan movie and took it home.

    I was in the Chan tape, supposedly a humorous short. I climbed into a plane, where I had to deal with a white-haired fellow who demanded that the plane change its destination for him. For the first minute or so, his lips were poorly synced with the dubbing. When told that the rest of the passengers would be sorely inconvenienced by a change, he insisted that his wife was expecting him and he had no other way of getting to her in time. Finally he was put out on the parking lot where the plane was, and escorted away by several security guards. The airline employees took me to the back of the plane (the interior of which was similar to the YCM tour bus), where I was to pilot it. I was well known for botching up flights, but everyone had great faith that I would do fine. I started taxiing, but as I wandered around shopping center and school parking lots, I couldn't find the runway. I attempted taking off in a few clear spaces, though I nearly forgot to turn on the engines, but the strips were never long enough. Finally I found a crumbling, sloped, overgrown area where the runways were set up. I took the plane to the top of a hill at one end and started to turn around, but one of the attendants told me, "No! You need to angle up. Up, so you can take off." I took the plane to the opposite end of the runway, then, and positioned it in front of a long body of water. I asked my advising attendant if I needed to radio for clearance. He said it wasn't necessary, but I could if I wanted. I picked up the microphone. "Control, this is, um, a 747, requesting clearance for takeoff." The response came, sleepily: "A 747? Oh, yeah, you're fine." With a shrug, I set down the mike and started the plane forward, pulling back hard on the wheel. We lifted up into the air, and I thought happily that I might actually be successful. The nose was too high, however--we were climbing at a shallower angle than we were pointed. The plane bumped some treetops, a telephone pole, and the top of a building. I tried to turn the plane around to get on course, but we just landed across a city street. I was worried that approaching cars might hit us. Suddenly we were in the parking lot again and I, shaking my head, picked the plane up under my right arm and walked away.

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