Some people are discussuing a literary novel. One of them is a professor I know from when I was a graduate student. He asks me if I've been to some stately home. I'm embarrassed because I don't know the name. It's the location for the novel. I remember seeing it on tv and feel inadequate, that my education is lacking.

I'm outside at a theatrical performance of the novel. I'm with the main actor who appears to be my friend. He is upper class. So are the other people here, they're all wearing academic robes. I hear the theme music to a tv adaptation of Brideshead Revisited.

My friend is telling the upper class people that there are too few seats and that there are some students here. There could be trouble.

We are inside now at the back of the auditorium. I see the students. They stand out because they are dressed scruffily. One has red hair. I feel anxious because I am dressed scruffily too, when my friend has gone will the upper classes turn on me?

My friend tells some people in front that he is closely related to the people in the novel. It's about the decline of an upper class family. He wonders where their money went. There is some kind of conspiracy.

My friend is at the centre of the stage waiting for the play to start. He smiles at me. I remember I am on an important mission and leave the theatre.

I am in a shop selling beer and wine which is run by relatives of my friend and the family in the novel. I see the women who runs it. She is very fierce and I'm scared of her. She smiles slightly at me and I feel relieved that she approves of me.

I go upstairs. My mission is to find a man whose name begins 'Kaya'. He is a red-haired African. I think he is Kenyan. Upstairs everyone is waiting for the play to begin. It's packed and there is a deafening din of loud simultaneous conversations.

To make progress into the room I have to crawl on the floor to avoid an obstacle. Here I see an IRC channel. I answer a question about LaTeX on IRC because I feel Kaya is here and that this will get me closer to him. I look around the room for the people on the channel. I see them and approach.

One is a girl I know. I had feelings for her that I didn't act on. She might be flirting with me now. I'm unsure. I still want her so I flirt back.

The dream ends there. Professor Jung I need some help with this one.

Previous dream

(For thy browsing pleasure: Previous day and my previous dream / Next day / My next dream / Wolf's Dreamworld)

Hmm... again, not too clear memories. I remember, though, that this was a game dream of sorts. The game used Tux Racer graphics engine, and it was a world of snow, mountains. I don't remember what happened in the beginning, but all I remember was that a young girl was taken up in the air by some big bird. We tried to shoot the bird (or something), it dropped the girl on top of icy lake. The girl went to a cabin that was on the beach of the lake, to get less snowy clothes.

I remember that I was in the army truck. I was part of some group whose mission was to protect this girl. I was the one whose responsibility was encryption and communication. So, the truck had two chairs. I joyously proclaimed how great those low chairs were in the truck back where I was, and how great they were to support the stuff I put on them; I toyed with the idea that each of those chairs should have their own domain names, in case either would be put off the net. but I rejected the idea because it was kind of silly and I'm against of wasting domains.

So, I told someone to shoot the big bird in case it would threaten the girl again. I got a reply from the others, encrypted in a really silly way: The message "OHI" (missed!) was just written upside down in some jumble of block characters. I decided to devise a better cipher. I was thinking of a keystream generator when I woke up...

Skyler was sitting around not talking to me again. I tried not to notice. I occupied myself with the frosting. The bottle said White Christmas Frosting and I was trying to figure out the modifiers there. White Christmas? Christmas Frosting? This became fascinating.

Later, in a theater, the wind came out of nowhere and tried to pull me out of my seat. I held on tight and yelled that I was TRYING TO WATCH THE MOVIE PLEASE and then I was safe.

Strange, yet mundane.

After The Talented Mr. Ripley

I was hanging around in a park with my mom and some of her friends. It was mid-afternoon, kinda cloudy, and we were hanging around, eating ice-cream mixed with vodka, out of the box. We just poured the vodka into the ice cream and didn't mix it in or anything and we were all taking spoonfuls of it. I took one spoonful at the bottom of the box that just had vodka left and it was harsh and I was kinda choking on it a bit. And I kept smoking these big long joints in between bites of ice cream and vodka. I inhaled really deeply on them, and I tried blowing some smoke rings and my mom was proud because I made some good rings.

Anyway, we must've run out of ice cream and vodka and joints, because we ended up driving home shortly after, over through the town square. My mom was driving and I was sitting in the passenger seat. After we got through the square a girl my age appeared in the front seat and I found myself in the backseat, and she said, "Have you been drinking too? I can smell it really strong." And I said, "Yeah, I was sorta eating ice cream and vodka in the park with my mom." And we stared into each other's eyes for a bit and then she was in the back seat with me and we were lying down together and I had my arms around her and I enjoyed the rise and fall of her chest as she talked.

I dreamt code. I had come up with a new scripting language for Solace, which is simple, easy to write an interpreter for, easy to write code in, and easy to store using Solace's property-tree database model. Basically, it is a cross between LISP and sh. I tentatively named it SoLISP.

On a MUCK as Pascal, I msummoned various friends to show them the code (as it was a tangible thing), handed them a script. They grokked it immediately, and thought it was a great idea. Well, fEk and Zorin did. I don't remember who else I specifically talked to about this.

I also had some other incredible ideas. Event handler methods, mostly, everything being an event and being able to be handled accordingly, with very simple mini-scripts to deal with such things as needed. It would make this language a cross between functional, imperative, and object oriented, while still being clean.

And holding SoLISP in my splotchy-colored paws, it was such a beautiful concept, shiny and metal made of environment-mapped gold, and I felt that I had found a true treasure.

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My Father had died: I was 12, but I was not a twelve year old. I had my 25 year old mind in my twelve year old body. My Mother also had her current mind in her late twenties body. We secretly agreed not to let anyone else know.

We inherited a house at the end of a forest road, a road I used to play along when I was younger. The house had large grounds with lawns, tennis courts and streams. As we walked through the front gate, we met one of my Mother's Church friends. He advised us to sell some of our grounds so that some houses could be bought. He was quite patronising to my Mum; she nodded with a dumb female look on her face, but looked at me behind the guys back and crossed her eyes. He ruffled my hair which pissed me off, so I asked him a snide question about where his wife was - implying that she didn't know he was here trying to hit on my Mother. He was angry and confused with a 12 year old asking him loaded questions and left.

We walked through the courtyard at the front of the house and waited for our relatives to turn up. They all wanted to offer their condolences for my Mother's loss, but we both knew they were sniffing around for money. My brother, 6 years old in the dream, played with the cousins his own age. Strangely, he didn't seem to have his 19 year old mind in the 6 year old body, but neither my Mother nor I worried about this. It seemed to me that he would get his adult mind sooner or later.

It was strange to see my Aunts at 18, 22 and 30; the two younger ones were quite attractive (Ewww!) My Mother was far more assertive with them and their husbands or boyfriends when they tried to boss her about. My relatives were angry at first, but became more bewildered as time went on. This was amusing to my Mum and I; she stood up to her daffy Mother a lot, which made me laugh behind my hand.

The house was strangely laid out. It had no corridors or hallways; all access and stairways were inside rooms, even bedrooms. You had to walk through a guest bedroom to get to the third floor children's rooms. I argues with my Mother about the best way to change the layout of the house. My Aunts tried to shush me, but I argued with them to shut them up.

We sat at the large wooden dinner table. My Mother and I dominated the table because we were so much more confident than the others. I refused to be browbeaten by an uncle and dismissed his bullshit about gardening and decorating. He was amazed that I would speak back to him like that.

Eventually my Mum gave in to my Aunts and told me to be quiet. I leaned over to her and said "Don't fuck with me, I may look 12 but I'm really 25" She looked shocked and angry, then she laughed with me as she remembered.

As the relatives left we gave them our email addresses, but they looked at us as if we were mad - I was 12 in 1986 and there was no non-academic internet then.

I was switching between two of them last night....
  1. I was some extra in the Star Wars universe, on an out-of-the-way planet like Tattooine that never got visited by any of the major characters. An associate of mine had just colluded with Darth Vader, passing him minor information on the Rebels. Vader presented him with a check for his services. It was a large non-round number, something like 7,092,298 credits.

    He was dumbfounded and awed at Vader's generosity, and coudn't stop thanking him, or speaking well of him for doing this. Personally, I wasn't so sure... I was betting that Vader thought (incorrectly) that my friend was a double agent for the Rebels, and that if he went to the bank to cash the check, he would be captured and tortured to death.

    My friend woudn't listen to my concerns, and kept going off on how awesome his check was, and how he would never have to worry about anything again. He was talking as though he had received a billion dollars, and I was trying to figure out in my head the local currency rate for credits to dollars.

  2. I went to the doctor to have him look at a skin flap that had been growing on my back that I wanted removed. He was less concerned with the skin flap than with a large boil that had been growing on my back, just out of sight. It was a dome of skin about an inch and a half around and half an inch high. When he pointed it out to me, I took another look at my back in the mirror, and discovered that there were actually about 8-10 of these things growing out of my back. A couple of them were an angry red. I wondered why I had never noticed them before, so I gave one an experimental poke, and discovered that wherever one of these things grew, I was totally numb.

    I switched back to the Star Wars dream, and when I switched back to this one, I was outside, wearing a plain white T-Shirt. A woman asked me what was happening to my back, so I seeked out a mirror and checked myself. Each of these growths was oozing pus, and my T-Shirt had become plastered to my back, and rendered translucent. Additionally, a couple of the growths had actually ruptured through the shirt, and was bleeding openly through the hole. Back to Star Wars again.

    In the last occurrence before I woke up, I was in the doctor's office again, hearing that the growths were actually incubators for the larvae of a large wasp-like creature about the same size and appearance as a dragonfly. The doctor was asking me if I wanted to have these growths removed now, or if I wanted to wait for the insects to hatch and fly off, then have the wounds treated. I thought that was a stupid question; why would I want to let these things keep growing inside me? The doctor's explanation wasn't very forthcoming, but the idea was, if we tried to get them out now, they might not be able to get out all the insect parts out of my body, plus the scars might be uglier. During the conversation, I was trying to think of how I could have picked up this condition.

Oddly enough, neither of these dreams were nightmares. I had a sense of detatchment that pervaded each one.

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