Short dream last night. I am under a sky the color of a de-tuned television. I am standing on a great plain straight out of the American Mid-west. A man dressed in a severe blue shark-skin suit and large glasses approaches me with something in his hand. He looks remarkably like the man who played Dr. Eldon Tyrell in Blade Runner. In his hand is a small, chrome gun—all one piece and very shiny. He smiles as I admire it, and then aims at a 45 degree angle up and fires several times. His shots blow jagged black holes in the sky.

I wake feeling nervous.

I'm at a music store, looking at a cheap acoustic guitar. In reality, I don't know how to play the guitar, but in the dream I'm obviously interested in learning. The salesman (who kinda looks like the bald guy from Vertical Horizon) tries to convince me into getting a more expensive guitar.

Time Shift

I'm naked, taking a shower in a yellow shower stall shaped like a typical bathroom stall. The room is filled with these yellow stalls, though only two are occupied - mine, and the one to my left, which happens to be the last stall before the door to the room. There's a petite blonde girl about my age (21) in the stall adjacent to mine, also showering. I get the impression we're really good friends. We get to talking about something, and she invites me in to her stall to discuss it (a totally non-sexual atmosphere). The entire conversation is a blur, except when she said "Okay, come on in." There's a door between the stalls, so I use that. We're talking for a long while, and we eventually start helping each other with the soap. (Again, more friendly than sexual.) A man walks into the shower room, and I kneel down low in the stall. I know him too. For some reason I'd rather not get caught in this stall, but I don't make much of an effort to hide. He walks up to the girl I'm talking to, and starts talking to her very briefly from over the stall door. He has black hair. He looks down at me, smiles a knowing smile, and leaves. He had an accent, though I don't remember what kind.

I remember talking to him later, but I don't remember what our conversation was about, although it was friendly.


This is my first dream log, so if details are lacking, forgive me. This is all I remember.

I.

I'm walking down a street at night in Manhattan with a stranger. We're talking about my going to 'Arthur'--he asks if I mean the play going on, but I really mean a place; a street maybe.


II.

I'm in jail. Natalie convinces the jailer to let me go free.

II.b.

Natalie and I are walking down another city street. I have to go to the bathroom, so we stop by an office building to ask to use it. The secretary directs me to an alcove beside her desk. As I enter, there's an insistent beeping alarm; I have to empty my pockets to pass through the metal detector. This bathroom doesn't afford much in the way of privacy; the walls only go about waist-high... In effect this 'bathroom' seems to be merely an extension of the secretary's desk. The toilet is under the counter, and rather than try to figure out the gymnastics required to utilize it, I instead fiddle a little bit with the PlayStation that's been set up there.


III.

Driving along with the team, I notice we are passing my old high school. It's a whole story taller than it was last time. "I used to go to school there," I said. "I remember, the bad guy had his headquarters on the top floor--only, I suppose it's not the top floor anymore..." I look back at the rest of the team, who're mostly younger than me. I suppose none of them even had baddies at their school. But then, our vice-principal was an odd guy.

So we go in, and look around the third floor; it looks alarmingly like a shopping mall. We take the elevator down to the second floor to the main room I was talking about. There's a large pillar-type setup here with mechanical doodads around and on it. The team looks confused, but I know the secret of it. I walk over to a little box on the pillar above what looks like an electrical outlet, and open it; there's a button inside that I push. A part of the pillar setup flips over and descends into the ground, to be replaced by the secret elevator.

"They always thought they were too high-tech for keyboards--" I begin, but the team patron walks over and opens another metal box on the setup and he begins tapping on a keyboard. "--that wasn't there before..."

I clamber into the secret elevator, which actually has more of a cardboard box aspect about it. It's rather small, but the team patron is able to go into it with me. As we descend into the basement, I remember that there's no controls on the elevator itself; we'll have to take a different way up.

The basement is dark and gray... Nobody has been in here in a long time, it seems. Piles of boxes of junk are stacked all around. We pass through the elevator room to a room with more junk and a large ramp that goes up to the ceiling. Behind it is a small closet. "I remember--we used to come here and sit and drink stuff." I pull out a box of colas from the closet. "Oh yeah--the way out." I begin clearing stuff from in front of the low end of the ramp, which doesn't touch the ground. As the space is cleared, some mechanical apparatus underneath it begins automatically setting up the rest of the ramp.

I hear someone. Nobody should be able to come by here, but indeed someone comes in from the elevator room. It's not someone from our team, and he looks familiar even though I haven't seen him before. His name is Eric (sounds like -ARR-ic-). Wait! He's not any ordinary person, he's one of the guarding spirits than can help our team! I think of one of the younger members who is having trouble with the one who is helping her now. I ask Eric to come with us, and he does. We take the ramp out.

III.b.

Team headquarters. I recognize Eric (he seems to go by the nickname 'Teg') sitting at the kitchen table and arguing with a couple of the other guarding spirits, a couple of women. One of them tells Teg to just buzz off, and he disappears in a huff, with a small flash of white light.

But this is bad. The lady who yelled at Teg, half her head is missing. The other one arguing with him, her arm is gone. Teg has taken something from everyone in the house. Everyone clambers down to the main room as best they can to plan what to do next...


IV.

The white cat looks up at me and I am amazed; nobody has ever spoken my name so beautifully before.

I dreamt mostly about transportation.

  • negotiating around people and parked cars in a gated, market street, lined with butcher shops and vegetable stands in a bright red sports car.
  • parking my van and going to see a private screening of a movie with classmates? in Windsor Castle
  • purchasing a fire truck and then crusing around town in it. I had no problem with the manual transmission and I could turn some bolts at the front of the cab and make the whole cab tilt. The nose of the truck ended up inclined somewhat, and I couldn't seem to make it sit level again. Then the position of the steering wheel started to get uncomfortable, and I began to wonder where I ever got the money to pay for this thing, but it was 'my' fire truck and that made it cool.

I can't remember much from last night, but I'll try.

The first thing I remember, I was sitting at a computer. I think I was viewing E2. It seemed as if there was going to be a race, or something requiring speed, because I felt great anxiety and anticipation.

The next dream I remember more fully. I was in a room with another person, and there was a table with lunches on it a few feet away. We started to look through the lunches, trying to find spray-cans. We found a bunch of cans, many of which were just spray-cheese. Others were cans of paint. I don't remember what we did with them, but we thought they were probably going to be used for huffing. Then we found what we were looking for, a spray-can of answers! Answers to a test that was going to be taken today. We quickly found the classroom where the test was going on, and there was a kid who got a perfect score! The kid looked frightened and a little nervous, nervous because he cheated, or nervous because he knew we were accusing him, we couldn't tell. The last thing I remember before the dream ended was thinking "What if he didn't cheat?"

To be a stupid Floridian: For some reason, I was making holes in card stock at some kind of convention. Eventually, I realized I was actually voting in the election, hoping to get my vote in before the recount was finished. I even remembered to carefully remove all the chad. It made me wonder why people were so lazy, they couldn't even follow the instructions to make sure the holes were clean and no punchouts were hanging from the holes.

Amber Archeology

  • Driving around a city looking for a good deal on grapefruit-sized amber figurines. I'm looking for an owl.

  • With my mother and a large group of people, I take a train to some archeological tourist site. Afterwards, we find it difficult to get back down the mountain to the station. I take off with my friends Allen, August and a computer science professor, Manfred Warmuth (a man I dislike). The three of them collect pieces of plastic with numbers on them, with the intention of playing some kind of card game. I get the idea that a lower number is better. Manfred asks me for help and I aid him in setting up a desk with stacks of these plastic squares piled around him. Dream repeats.

My little sister, who loves animals, has captured dozens of wild green parrots and put them in our house. But then she went away for awhile and forgot to feed them and they all died. I come home to a house full of dead, rotting parrots. I bury some of them, but she comes home while I'm doing it. I explain to her what happened and she's heartbroken, and I hug her while she cries.

It was five years in the future. We had moved from the dregs of the southwest (Albuquerque), to some small town in the middle of the woods. As it turns out, the new neighbor is a slightly off-kilter fellow who has spent the last fifteen years of his life broadcasting the Beach Boys into the depths of space. The guy believed that if the aliens could hear "Pet Sounds" in its entirety (along with "Good Vibrations"), the little green men would immeadiately make contact with mankind.

And, as it turns out, he was right. A few days after moving into the house, I looked out the window and noticed a large flying saucer hanging out directly over my neighboor's shack.

Ack!

For several days, the world waited and watched for any sign of life from the ship. Amazingly enough, the media did not camp out in my front yard to capture the historic moment. Instead, everyone gave the visitors space. Even the Fox Mulders of the world hung back.

And then the ship moved over my house.

Double ack!

The fear settled in on me like a fog. I was scared of my toothbrush, the carpeting, my friend's video game. Of course, it didn't help that CNN was reporting that the ship's hatch had opened, but the aliens had yet to make an appearance.

And then, I could sense the presense of something in my house. And that something wasn't happy. I knew that I was just another plant to be collected by some warped E.T., and picking time was here.

My bedmate reports that I awoke moaning and babbling about the aliens, the Beach Boys and my toothbrush.

I've been wandering around with a slight chill all day. I just can't shake it.

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