Bay Ferry, Grandma Marble, Chronic Archaeology

  • Middle of the night and I'm driving North with friends, towards the Golden Gate Bridge. My girlfriend is in the driver's seat but I do most of the driving from the passenger seat. She doesn't seem to mind me being a literal back seat driver. Instead of crossing the bridge we take an old ferry. There's a gorgeous view of city lights from the bow of the boat. They twinkle across the dark hillside, dirty stars. My high school choir sings from the upper deck. My friend, Allen, is mesmerized by lights and music and, speechless, is overcome by a perfect moment. A choir girl falls from the upper story and I catch her in my arms as a phone rings. We arrive on the far shore. Dream ends.

  • My grandmother's apartment where everything is made of marble. I run my fingers along a piano; every key is the same color of marbled amber.

  • As part of an archaeological team, I scour through a stone-covered beach, looking for man-made artifacts. I find a few things but gradually my friend and I work our way down the coastline until we come across three glass tubes half buried in the sand. Further digging reveals them to be 4 foot bongs. We knock on the door of a nearby house and an old man answers. He claims ownership of the "water pipes", explaining that his wife doesn't approve of his smoking habits. He invites us in and promptly packs a tiny glass pipe with reefer. I decide I shall use this altered state of consciousness to initiate a lucid dream. I close my eyes and attempt to meditate as a precursor to astral projection. Unfortunately, the man's wife appears and scolds all of us. My archaeological friends show up at the door, looking for us. We rejoin them and say goodbye to the man. Dream ends.

My dream last night was one of those odd multipart sequences that's kind of scary when I think about it...
  • Part I: The Policeman
    I'm driving to Portland late at night. I'm going across one of the many bridges over the Willamette River. As I enter the bridge, I see flashing lights in my rearview mirror. My first though, of course, is "Oh, shit, not again.", because I tend to get pulled over for speeding a lot.

    So I pull over. The cop zips past me, then stops right in front of me. He jumps out of his car, motions to me to get out as well. Uh, okay. So I get out. He points off into the distance on the bridge and starts giving me orders. I suddenly realize that there has been a big fiery accident on the bridge right in front of us, and there are injured people crawling, limping, lunging away from the wreckage. The police officer is telling me to help get the people away from the flames.

    I respond, "Yes, sir." and do as I'm told. I help people to cover on the side of the bridge behind my car. The cop continues barking various orders at me, while he stands still. I think to myself, "You know, I read a news article the other day that said cops have an average IQ of no more than 105. I'm smarter than this guy. Why should I obey him?" Yet I continue to obey him and respond with respectful "Yes sir"s.

  • Part II: The Intruder
    A few days ago (in the real world) a notice was posted on the door of my apartment saying that today the manager and a representative from the complex's insurance company would be inspecting all the apartments. I was bothered by this, but I resigned myself to this invasion of privacy because, according to the lease I signed, it is technically legal.

    So yesterday (still in the real world) I cleaned up my apartment and made it ready to be inspected. The inspection was to occur anywhere from 8am to 6pm. I usually wake up around 9:30am, so I was a little concerned about waking up to find people in my apartment.

    So, on to the dream. My dream is this: I'm sleeping in my bed. I'm awakened by a slight noise. I force my eyes open, but can only muster the willpower to open them slightly. I'm in that groggy state of semi-consciousness that usually posesses me for 30 minutes or so after I first wake up. It's very dark in my room, but I can hear slight noises from the doorway, and I think I can see something moving around there. It takes every bit of willpower in my body, but I manage to stand up to investigate.

    Suddenly, I sit bolt upright in bed. It's just light enough to see -- the wee hours of the morning. I realize that I was dreaming. The intruder wasn't real. I get up and start to get ready for work. I take my shower, brush my teeth, get dressed, and start to walk out the door. The phone rings. I try to answer it, but some invisible force restrains me. I can't pick up the phone! What is this??

    I sit bolt upright in bed. Again. It's just light enough to see -- the wee hours of the morning. I realize that I was dreaming. I realize that I was dreaming that I wasn't dreaming. The phone is ringing. I answer it. It's my daily wakeup call courtesy of GTE. The phone continues to ring, even though I've answered it. What is this??

    I sit bolt upright in bed. AGAIN. That's it, I start to go crazy. I can't seem to distinguish the difference anymore between the real world and the dream world. The phone is still ringing. I answer it. It's my wakeup call. This time it stops ringing. I actually had to pinch myself several times before I believed that I wasn't dreaming anymore.

This was the start of a very confusing day.

"I had the strangest dream last night... you had a girlfriend and - "

"That's it! These dreams are just getting too fantastic and detached from reality for me to waste my time contemplating!"

"..."

"..."

"Bitter?"

"Only when I'm awake."

in our last episode... | p_i-logs | and then, all of a sudden...

Weird to fall asleep in the bathtub with a Carl Sagan book in the afternoon and wake up with the stars shining...

In the dream, I was dressed in a black jumpsuit and no shoes...for some reason it seemed very important that my hands and feet stay uncovered and in view at all times. Maybe because I couldn't see any of myself except for those extremities. I was in an empty auditorium, facing a bright light from a balcony. I couldn't see who was behind the light, but knew it was an authority figure...professor, doctor or postal worker...but I knew I had to tell them I couldn't make an appointment and needed to rescedule. I also knew I couldn't speak or write. The word aphasia flashed through my mind. The only way I could communicate was by gesture, and the American Sign Language I knew wasn't enough to say that. (I can basically say "You're my boyfriend," "I love you" and "Nice hair.") I had to dance and mime my way through, constantly feeling their disapproval over my clumsy movements. (Aside: My alarm clock is going off, blasting music from a pop station) I try my hardest, but cannot move to the rhythms of Hey, Mr. DJ and deliver my message. The beings behind the light are not Madonna fans, anyway. The more ashamed I felt, the faster I moved, and then felt resistance. Strings, or maybe web-strands, were stuck to my elbows and knees, and I realized I was a marionette. That frightened me enough to awaken.

K. (someone who once worked for my SO's firm) is accused of poisoning her grandchildren. (I watched a little more of I, Claudius last night). At first it seems unlikely and we ridicule those who are investigating the rumor. Eventually, the evidence becomes too convincing to dismiss.

D. (a mutual friend) comes to our bedroom — we are staying in a very nice hotel. She wants to cuddle with S. (my SO) and possibly with the three of us. She makes funny sighing noises as she sits down on our bed

The hotel room we stay in is decorated in a very late-50s or early-60s style, lots of silver, chrome, mirrors and compound curves, as well as intense pastels and a look that is something like faded Kodachrome prints of that era, rather than necessarily what the true colors of the time may have been.

There is something in a newspaper about some sort of sale. It seems we are at this hotel, somewhere far from home, because we want to shop for something. It is unclear what that something is.

We are supposed to meet other friends at a shop, but D.'s appearance in our hotel room tells us that our original plan will not work. It seems that D. has already come on to that particular shop owner and has an existing (sexual) relationship, which it seems is an essential part of what we were seeking in this shopping trip.

I'd like to see Freud analyze this shit...

My friends and I were playing a game called 'Wedge'. It involves running around in a Quake-like warehouse, dropping down those gymnastic foam wedge mats when you need to get to another spot. Of course, the wedges just appear when you need them, you don't have to lug them around. We had just defeated the University of Washington, and we were being hailed the best Wedge players in all the land. We were even on SportsCenter! Then we went back in time.

Why we did this, I do not know. If I has stayed asleep a little longer, perhaps things would have been made clearer. But I digress...

We were in Washington D.C., although it looked like Harvard Square. And Abraham Lincoln was running for President. Well, the man dressed like Abe, but he didn't really look like him, and no one called him Abe. It was quite a town-fair environment. So, were all scrambling around, and this guy Don, who I don't know, is trying to find the library, because he left a book in there that could change the course of history. So, while we're hunting for this book, we run into the President's wife. She looks like my friend Eileen. She tells us that she's just hanging out, because the President has business in London. We just saw the President, so we offer to take her to him. Puzzled, she agrees.

We go back to the President's house (which isn't the White House), but it's gated off. Somehow, I don't remember how, we manage to get in, but we're cut off by a landing helicopter. Four or five people get off - one of them is David Spade. Must have been just a walk on part, because he didn't say anything. Another is one of the new hires at the place I work. She claims to be the President's wife as well. Together they figure out that the President has two wives - an American one, and a European one. They don't seem to be too upset about this. But anyway, we all go back down to the town square, where we expect the President to be speaking.

Instead, it's my friend Kevin, who is berating the President for the ineffectiveness of the Emancipation Proclamation. Kevin's ranting is in fact destroying the delicate fabric of the space-time continuum. It's almost like that shit from the Langoliers miniseries, except there aren't any of those monsters with razor sharp teeth. It'a almost an animated collapse. Don comes running out of the library shouting that we have to leave. He hasn't found the book yet, but it doesn't matter. So, somehow, we just go forward in time. The world collapses in on itself as we leave.

When we arrive back in the present day, were in this big city, and everything looks OK, except there are no people, and the sky is blood red. Hmmmm. Maybe something we did. Unfortunately, before we get to investigate, I wake up.

Last night I dreamed that my father had died. My mother called me and told me that he had passed. I could still see him. I told my mother "no he’s not, he’s right here." My father didn’t belive that he was dead either. I helped my Mom with all the arrangements and setting up the funeral. My Dad begins to accept that he was dead and showed up less and less.

Then I woke up. (In my dream) I was very glad to find out that it was only a dream and my father was still alive. Then my mother called me downstairs. (In this part of the dream I was staying back home) She told me that my father had died. I was like wow, this is strange. And this time my father didn’t appear to me. I once again helped my Mom work everything out. I had to drive her around and I got pulled over for a speeding ticket. And normal I’m a very laid back, peaceful kind of guy. But I just ripped into the cop that had pulled me over. I woke up in the middle of a fight with him.

fragment 1

It seems I am watching an animation: it is a hillside, cars and other vehicles are going up, and mostly down it. near the bottom is a pit. . . into which most of the vehicles are falling.

But as I watch this animation, the pit is filling up, and nothing more is falling into it. . .

fragment 2

. . . My perspective has changed: now I am in where the animation was, but it is not an animation any longer. I am on the top of some vehicle and holding on for dear life as it is going over the top of the hill, and down. . . .

fragment 3

. . . I see an object that appears like an old steam locomotive engine, only it is of lighter color, and seamless in detail. On the flat front, there is a face in the middle. Unlike Thomas the Tank Engine, it is a human face set in the center of the front.

Behind this 'engine', there is a second 'car' that rides along with it.

I am looking into the cab of the engine. A person exits. I do not recognize him, except that he is the person whose face was in the front; he is the engineer. . . .

This one was a strange dream (aren't they all?)... but only a fragment of it is worth noding here.

I was with my girlfriend (who is, IRL, an ex-girlfriend) in a bed, under black satin sheets (which are the sheets I was sleeping in when I dreamt this, but in said dream it was another bed, another room... only same sheets).

Of course we started to make love (I often fuck in my dreams but this time it was making love).

...

After a while, my hands went to her back, to take off her bra and I (not really me, but my hands) felt something strange. I looked and saw she had two small nipples between the nape of her neck and the bra. Because they were higher than those at the usual place, they were not contained in the bra, but it did not matter because they were so small, and anyway, they were on her back.

Those mini-back-nipples immediately brought to my mind the image of a male friend of mine, who has (IRL, too) three nipples.

This thought made me forget all of my sexual intentions and I think this is when I woke up (with a small erection).



I swear my dreams don't often feature so many nipples... At least on a single person.
You know that dream where you're in high school and you suddenly realize that you are completely naked and everybody's looking at you?

Well, last night I was apparently in someone else's dream, because I was among the clothed people gawking. And whoever's dream it was -- boy oh boy, was she CUTE!

I need a TiVo for my head.

i'm at some party at my high school, but it's not my high school. it seems to be someone's high school, but it's humongous. everyone i know is there, partying. i find my friend brian (who deals) in some room off another room. he's there with sean and they're selling weed to some kid. brian tells me it's really good, so i buy a 20 bag. the weed is shaped into this little statue of a skeleton dressed up like a jester (a la the grafix emblem). suddenly, a cop, about 6'4", balding, walks in, so i throw the weed on the ground. he indicates he knows i just purchased it, and that we were all under arrest.

the cop leads us out to the main chamber, where everyone is being held. we are told to march out of the building down this huge ramp which winds around and around, like a tremendous spiral staircase. i keep trying to walk faster than everyone so that i can get away from the cop who saw me with the weed. i see lauren. she grabs my wrist and pulls me into her crowd and i blend in. the cop begins talking to an equally large cop, only this one is signifantly older with white hair and a white mustache.

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