Action Film on Hemmingway Court

I often have eventful dreams, we all know this. Finding time to write down all the madness is more challenging than just being there for the dreams. Sometimes I wake up in the morning, open a Word file, jot a basic storyline down so that I don't forget and then come back later that night and finish the story.

Last week I used this tactic on two different days but neither day did I remember to come back and finish the story of the dreams. Low and behold, a week later, these stories are just as unknown to me as if a they were on a debuting House episode (not a bad idea, actually...). I thought I would try to share the madness anyway, or at least give you a very piecewise (read: half assed) glimpse into two semi-interesting dreams.

Dream #1: Stress with the Kitty

Kane and I had driven down to SLO to collect our cat from Steve, the volunteer coordinator at Woods Humane Society. We had left her with Steve when we left (in reality we left her with our friend Eric) and wanted to pick her up and drive back up to the Bay the same day. As we approached Woods, I realized that it was already 5:30pm and that the shelter closed at 6. The shelter looked nothing like it did in real life and we could not find Steve in the facility, which closely resembled the Rainforest Cafe. I was getting very stressed out since we couldn't find Steve and the place was about to close. We had wanted to drive back that night and now might have to stay the night since we couldn't find him!

Dream #2: Action Film on Hemmingway Court

I have some really basic notes from this dream and I remember almost none of it. But it was so funny for me to re-read that I thought I'd give it a shot. This dream took place at the top of Hemmingway Court (where my mom lives), as so many of my dreams do. This was another one of my "movie" style dreams and I was the main character, a man.

The "bad guys" put me in some sort of a sling and swung me around until I flew out and landed hard on the ground. I was badly injured. They were then going to shoot me at the top of the court but they kept delaying. The climactic "ending" to the movie took place in my mom's garage. Andi (an old friend from Planet Lazer days) was one of the bad guys' sidekicks and she was always walking around complaining about how a DD size bra is too small. She started making out with one of the other bad guy sidekicks and I realize she's like a double agent as she hits him and then hides him in the garage just as the main bad guy comes into the garage from the house.

I hide to the side of the garage under some white cover cloths and it's super obvious that I'm there, like how a three year old might hide. But it's my dream so it's working. Andi saunters over and starts to flirt with the main villain man and then I jump up and stab him with the giant syringe costume I'm suddenly wearing. (Wait, recap, I'm wearing a giant syringe costume and I stab a bad guy with the needle of the costume. Excellent.) Andi sees this and runs away.

I'm all happy that I've saved the day, but then I realize that I didn't free the dog that's trapped in the house (duh!). I run back inside to free the dog even though I know that the ending of the "movie" shows the dog killing me. I was about to find the dog but was awoken by a phone call.

Dream Stalkers

My friend Jon sometimes emails me with parts of his dreams that are particularly crazy or funny. Or crazy funny. Apparently I'm not the only one with ridiculous dreams. I woke up this morning to this email:

"I had a dream two nights ago that you, me and Kane were vacationing somewhere and staying in a hostel. We met a couple of girls and made plans to meet up with them the next day.

Last night, one of the girls interrupted a completely different dream because we had never called them. Good times."

Gotta love pretend people who stalk you from dream to dream. I certainly do.

Run from the Bees

We were at my mom's house, but my mom lived in Max's house next door instead of her real house. The floorplan was all jumbled around (not matching my mom's real house or Max's real house) but, as usual, I didn't seem to mind or notice. It was like old times when I was a kid and families were out in the court chatting, skating, biking, and playing. It was an oppressively hot and Costco-bright sunny day.

I was outside walking around in the front yard and talking to neighbors/family who were also milling around. It was a nice atmosphere. Suddenly a swarm of bees came through the court and everyone was scared. This actually happened once when I was a kid (remember, Alicia?) and we had run inside to escape the bees. They were gone after five minutes. In my dream it was, of course, not that nice (or simple).

The bees were mostly flying by up high, but many of them swooped to check us humans out. They didn't seem to be stinging but they were flying around people's heads, arms, and legs and everyone was swatting and running around. I decided to run a loop around the block so that no bees could land on me but it didn't seem to help much. I ran down the hill, gliding on one foot at a time as though I were on skates, and then back up again with bees landing on my legs and in my hair the whole way.

As I ran I was alternating brushing my hands down my legs, arms and over my head to keep them away. I finally got back up the hill and realized my tactic wasn't really working but that it was making me quite tired from all the running in the sun. I ran into our kitchen through the garage (it was the same kitchen but mirrored and re-arranged somehow) to escape the bees and it seemed to help since they hadn't gotten in the house yet.

I think it was the type of dream where I was twitching (or at least tense) like a doggie in my bed in real life.

Australia High School Reunion

So, Australia. And high school. Nope, those didn't happen together, did they. Well, they did in my dream; I was in Australia for my high school reunion.

Kane and I had traveled back to Australia for some reason but didn't know where we should go since we've pretty much seen the whole continent in our previous travels. We were sort of hovering over the whole country, like it was a map, trying to decide where we should land. The conversation went something like, "Should we go over here?", "No, we've already seen that and I don't really need to see it again". It was like landing in hot coals rather than a vacation, which is funny because in reality I'd be more than happy to explore the place more.

We decided to land in Adelaide since that was one of the cities we never visited in our time there. People say there's not much there which is why we didn't make the effort, but why not go there in dream land? We set down (sort of like flying in an airplane, sort of like Superman) in Adelaide and I proceeded to attend my high school reunion.

Why is my high school reunion in Australia? Why anything. It's my stupid dream.

The reunion was at some sort of restaurant or banquet hall that was quite nice with dark carpet, ambient lighting, tables, chairs, etc. There were people milling around and I wasn't particularly keen to talk to anyone, nor did I really recognize anyone. I was walking around looking for some of my friends when Casey Meirovitz approached me. We talked a bit and it really seemed like he was trying to hit on me, which I would have been quite happy about ten years ago, but now it just seemed sort of creepy.

I dodged away from him just in time for the party to be breaking up. The crowd dispersed quickly and I was left with one guy who I didn't know even went to my high school. He had apparently had no friends in school and didn't have many now. I chatted to him a bit and realized that he was actually quite funny and nice, but he was just such a huge nerd that no one had ever taken him seriously.

I was going to sign his yearbook (no idea why I was signing a yearbook) to say something like, "You're really cool; don't give up on the ladies yet" (encouraging, I know), and for some reason I couldn't write the last part of the sentence. Not sure if my pen ran out or what, but I was dream-stuck in a dream-weird sort of way.

After the party was over I suddenly became really stressed because I realized that I was in Adelaide and that I should be in Melbourne hanging out with our friends Marc and Alana. We only had a couple days left in Australia and now we weren't going to have much time to see them (who knows why we didn't think of this before coming to stupid Adelaide). I checked the train schedule and there were one or two trains a day leaving for Melbourne, but the trip took like 4 hours and I was quite upset by this for some reason.

I started sort of hyperventilating because of this whole thing, and I can't be sure that my breathing in real life wasn't affected. I was really, really upset that I might not get over to Melbourne in time to see Marc and Alana and go with them to some show on the weekend.

First Day of School

I often dream about high school or college. This dream went way back to elementary school - good times. Kane and I pulled up to my elementary school - Highland - in Hayward. We were full grown adults but we were there for the first day of school anyway. We weren't pedophiles or anything, we were enrolled just like everyone else. Dreams can be good that way.

We went to the school office to find out where we needed to go for class. There was no personnel and no signs; it was unclear what we were supposed to do. Apparently California budget cuts have hit my dream world too.

I finally found a laminated paper on the unstaffed office countertop showing a plan view of the entire school with different areas highlighted with different letters of the alphabet. The "S" area was near the 4th grade classrooms in the baseball (slash soccer, slash kickball) field; that's where I was supposed to gather with all the other kids who have last names starting with "S". Kane was supposed to go to the middle of the little kids' yard along with all the other kids whose first names start with "K".

Please don't begin to point out the inconsistency with the business of the first and last names, this dream is actually quite straightforward compared to my many others.

Anyway, so I walked through the basketball courts and over to my area of the field to join the other kids with "S" last names. There was a whole group of us, grades K through...me. I don't remember there being other adults there, but I didn't feel out of place either. Interesting.

I'm not sure what we were waiting for, but Vanessa Allen was in my group. Why would she be in my group with a last name starting with "A" - I have no idea. Not to mention the fact that I have not seen her for probably 12 or more years - again, let's not go there. She did go to Highland with me (in real life), though we were never really friends.

I used to play tetherball in elementary school because 1) it was awesome, and 2) I was gigantic for my age and kicked ass at tetherball. Vanessa was not very good, as I recall, since she was very short and generally small. In the dream we agreed to play against each other and I was almost chuckling about it since it was obvious she didn't stand a chance against me. Our relative sizes were about the same as in 5th grade in my dream.

We played tetherball and she won easily. She sent the ball flying hopelessly far over my head and I could not reach it as it wrapped snuggly around the pole many feet above me. I was astounded. But, I was resigned not to be a bad loser like we all were in elementary school and I told her she played a good game and got back in line.

I continued to watch more kids play tetherball, waiting for my turn. Vanessa eventually "roped" (touching the tetherball rope is a foul and an automatic loss), not remembering that that wasn't allowed. I reminded her, trying to be kind. Then another girl stepped in the "poison" zone - an area of the circle painted on the ground where neither player may step. We told her she was out too but she wasn't a good sport about it.

Nothing really happened (not terribly unlike a real first day at school) but I did get a good refresher course on my favorite childhood sport.

Amputee

This dream has faded a bit (see comic strip on previous entry) but it was pretty serious stuff while it was happening. For starters, it took place a few years ago when I was leaving Thom Hume's office to move to Australia. In real life, I had tried to wrap up any jobs I was working on and/or pass them on to someone else, and generally clean up the office before going. In my dream, Leslie Ronsin was replacing me at work and I was introducing her to everyone and trying to get her started at the office.

I met her in the parking lot and for some reason Anthony, a previous employee at Thom's, was also there. He was also starting work there again and I wondered why. I introduced Leslie to him and it was a bit awkward. Then, I think there was some sort of explosion or something and I was thinking that this was not a good first day of work for Leslie. But then the dream flipped elsewhere.

I had seen Thom come in earlier that morning and he was actually the last one into the office, which was not normal. I noticed he was walking weird and looked very somber. After the explosion happened, everyone else left so I went down some stairs into Thom's office (though it wasn't really Thom's office from real life) and found him sitting on a twin bed looking very distraught. His left leg had been amputated from the knee down.

He had been really upset about having to have the leg removed and hadn't told anyone about it beforehand (except family or whatever). He was very depressed about it and talking about "not being able to go on", etc. I sat down with him and tried to cheer him up. I told him to think about his kids and how they need him and that seemed to help a little bit.

He walked over to the kitchenette in the next room and started fiddling around saying how useless he was now. But all the things he was demonstrating (taking dishes down from high shelves, making food, etc) were things you do with your hands, so I was wondering what the problem was. I told him he still had both hands and was perfectly useful for most things, he just couldn't run anymore. I also realized that he probably couldn't surf, but I didn't point that out (he's big on surfing).

There was no resolution to the dream but it was very realistic and (though a bit boring) very emotional. Glad Thom still has both legs in real life.

Comic

So true. Image courtesy of http://xkcd.com.

Race to the Lodge

I woke up laughing. My dry lips curled into a smile and I lay on my right side chuckling away at my dream. I woke Kane up and he asked what was so funny. I told him. He did not laugh. I don't blame him; you had to be there.

I was working at a restaurant with some friends. It was the end of the shift and we were cleaning everything up. Actually, it was a bit of an episode of Scrubs and Elliot was one of the other waitresses. A group of her customers was all mad that she had gotten their bill wrong. I tried to help by telling her and asking her to re-do the check.

At the end of our shift we were all going to like a Tony Bennett concert or something across the street. We all needed to change and there was a small wooden lodge out back where we could do that. It had wooden verandas all around it and ramps up to the glass front doors. We were all running toward the lodge to claim a good area to change.

Just then, children started pouring out of the back of the restaurant; they also were running for the lodge and needed to change. It was like a class full of 2nd graders or something, all button noses and corduroy jackets. We all freaked - we had to beat them in!

That's when I turned to see Turk stopping in-place to change. He was putting a pair of pants on over the pair he already had on. I didn't know why exactly he was doing this, but I kept running. A couple of my colleagues had fallen behind and I looked to see Trevor, Shak (our friend, Shakib, from college, not Shaq the basketball player) and a couple other boys from college sitting outside the lodge at a picnic table all eating some food and cheering us on.

I was now in the lead to the cabin, but my running skills were even worse in my dream than in real life. I was in freaking slow motion. The children started to pass me. I had to make a decision and so I reached my right arm out, bent down, and tripped the first little blond booger who made it past me. He plummeted face first into the deck; I was smiling.

That's when I started to laugh in real life. I had tripped a child so that I could beat him in a race. Trevor and my friends were laughing so hard behind me that I burst out laughing in real life. The laughter woke me up and spoiled the dream, but I was going to trip more of them, I already knew it. It was fabulous.

Digging Up the Bowling Alley

Time travel, action, adventure, nail polish – this dream has it all! Kane and I had traveled back in time about three days (lame, I know) to the beginning of an endeavor my family was taking on to find the hidden passages under Holiday Bowl.

This was some sort of treasure hunt with an unknown prize waiting for us when the right area of the intricate catacombs was found, all Indiana Jones style. And there was action too – some sort of time limit was imposed upon us, some impending doom, some threat to be neutralized with these activities. We were archaeologists digging up the tunnels of the past while being spurred on by the vague yet imminent threats of the present!

The men-folk of my family were alternately digging/exploring the passageways and discussing/planning strategies for where to dig next. The Bowling Alley was not actually the facility in Hayward that we all know and love, but rather some other building, most of which I didn't get the chance to see in the dream.

My dad and uncle Jerry were standing outside the entrance to the underground excavations; they had taken a right turn once they had breached the surface and Kane and I were frustrated because we knew that the good stuff was to the left (since we were from the not-so-distant future and all). But they had found hobos living in some of the underground tunnels and they had thought this meant they were going the right way. I love how dreams make sense.

I was doing a bit of waiting around with some of the women-folk inside the building during these extensive excavations. My mom, all of a sudden, decided to start doing my nails. I have only had my nails done twice (and it certainly wasn't by my mom), and I hated it. But she wasn't hurting me at all so I let her continue.

About halfway through the manicure, she let one of the previous secretaries from Thom Hume's office, Kellene, take over. Kellene did my nails the rest of the way putting acrylics on (though they weren't as bulky and awful as the ones I had gotten for senior prom) and painting them a tasteful clear color. She then tried to put awful sparkly jewel things on every nail (the kind you sometimes see people wear on their pinky or thumb nail, if you're keen on contemporary nail design) which I was not happy about. But she sort of whined until I let her, so I had a diamond-ish gem on my thumb, the number '7' on my first finger and a slew of sparkles on my pinkies. Way to muck it all up, Kellene.

So that was it, and despite being knowledgeable time travelers, we had an obligation to follow a sort of skewed version of the Prime Directive and couldn't help our fam find the treasure. So, treasure-less and tacky-nailed, I awoke to another day.

Hotel Vandals

We're staying in a hotel at the moment, but the hotel in my dream was slightly different. It was far nicer than the one we're actually in – dang. Kane and I had gone to some party in the hotel lobby and had returned to our room late. It was 1am and we were just turning in for bed, reading our books. That's when I heard a shuffle outside our door and someone trying to get in with a key card.

It sounded like a family, children and all. Their key cards weren't working, which I was thankful for. Kane and I glanced at each other and then I went to answer the subsequent knocking at the door. When I opened the door, a woman holding a small girl, a man, and a small boy barged in the room in a big fumble of confusion and talking. I stared, confused, at them and asked them what they were doing. They rushed into the bathroom at the back of the room, insisting this was their room. I assured them it was not, but they insisted. I didn't exactly know what do to.

I looked at Kane and he told them, no, this was not their room or else their key cards would have worked. This was room 211, perhaps they had read the numbers wrong. They were insisting still as they fumbled around our room. It was odd with the kids there because we didn't exactly want to start a confrontation with children around. I don't remember if I just waited until they left or if I ran straight to the reception desk for help, but when I arrived at reception and told the woman there what had happened, she assured me that the family were thieves.

I was shocked. She said that this happens often. They steal your valuables while you're confused as they rush in. The woman handed me something and told me that the authorities had retrieved this from what the family had taken from us: it was a light brown bar of soap shaped like a grand piano, still shrink wrapped. I was relieved that this was all they were able to acquire from our bathroom. Then she informed me that they probably also stole more stuff but they weren't able to retrieve it. I replayed their steps around our room in my head and wondered if they got my wallet or our passports.

I felt really stupid for falling for some con; I tend to be very cautious about things like that and am typically very good at reading people. It was very odd and alarming.

Thanksgiving Horrors

Thanksgiving has become a trying time for my family, I will admit. My aunt used to do all the cooking but she has recently come into bad health and is no longer able. Everyone else in the family refuses to go out to dinner for reasons that I don't understand at all. They want a home cooked meal, which I can understand, but refuse to go out on pain of not seeing each other for the holiday. It baffles me.

Anyway, so the last few Thanksgivings have been a bit of a battle: the people who want a nice dinner out just to spend time together even if it's not over a perfectly home-cooked meal, versus the people who refuse to eat anything but 6 tons of home-made turkey, potatoes, yams, etc. And apparently my anxiety about it has bled into my dreams.

In my dream from about a week ago, I was cooking Thanksgiving dinner. In real life I have never done anything of the sort and would certainly not attempt to for my highly expectant family for my first try. I don't even eat meat for goodness sake! But, despite this, I found myself slaving away in the kitchen (of my mom's house) preparing this epic meal for my family.

I was making a turkey even though I don't know how. Everyone was already there which meant that I was supposed to be further along than I was. I was sweating. I was stressed. My uncle Jeff was complaining that I didn't have enough appetizers out on the table for them to eat. Then I realized that I had forgotten to buy potatoes and yams. The irony is that I had forgotten to buy these staple foods because I had focused my energy on getting good appetizers, which apparently weren't good enough.

So I had to rush out to get potatoes and yams even though I was woefully behind schedule. No one was helping me. As I dashed out the door, my mom laughed at me telling me that she used to even do all this (correctly) and serve venison for Thanksgiving. I have no idea what she was talking about, we've never had venison.