Batch

12-30-2013 -- On a college campus somewhere, probably Fullerton College, trying to finally finish registering for my CDL class, but every time I think I am close to finished, I find there is ever more that I have to do. So I am in the admissions office, filling out paperwork and trying to find out just how many more things I have to do, and they won't or can't tell me anything except the next one or two forms. It is maddening. I am running all around the building, being sent here and there for more forms, and finally get a little tired of it, and escape to a small office where I sit down to chat for a few minutes with Charles Purcell, one of the counselors from my high school. We're having a decent conversation, until we're interrupted by a couple of little who know him and are hugging and kissing him.

I excuse myself, and continue to wander around the school, where I find myself looking down some of the tops of some of the ladies in the office, enjoying the available view. In a small dining room, I come across several clowns and balloon artists I know from the Orlando area, and they are quietly discussing the latest news about the death of Don Caldwell, and I'm telling myself it can't be, as I try to find some paper in a nearby office, to write it down so I can do some internet research later and find out if it is true or not. I am hoping it is all a mistake, because I like Don. I am jotting down his age, which in the dream was something like 52 or 57, and a custodian walking by mistakes it for the number of a player on a sports team, and tries to strike up a conversation about it, which obviously doesn't work too well.

The dream is sort of lengthy with me continuing to wander around the office trying to get things sets up, though almost none of the details stick in my mind, and eventually I have left the building, and am heading on home to the Hickory house. I find myself on Crescent, just passing the nursery, pulling a wagon which for some reason I am calling a bus, as I draw it over the cracked and tilted sidewalk. For some reason, I start making odd wrong turns. I am directing myself with a compass, but I turn it so that north is whatever direction I say it is, rather than to actual north, as I find myself in odd areas from past dreams. I find myself in an area I remember driving another bus, which also involved goblins from the Harry Potter books, and the NCIS crew, though neither make an appearance in this dream. It is just the same area.

I soon find myself dodging around rail road crossings, and come to realize that I am somewhere in Tampa, when I find myself approaching a strange theme-park-like restaurant that seems to be a cross between Wolfgang Puck's and the Wilderness Lodge. It is either closed for the night, or perhaps has not yet opened, but if that is the case, the opening is drawing near. I head inside, anyway, though as I make it in, I find I am being chased by the guard collies that are watching the place. It is very strange being chased by about a dozen just slightly vicious, but highly gorgeous Lassie clones, but I am trying to get out of the way. I end up half swinging from the chandeliers, half swinging from vines in the trees which make up the roof of the restaurant, while workers who have spotted me come chasing after me. They are so determined to catch me that they are grabbing for anything near me, and seem to be pulling the entire place down around us. As far as I am concerned, this is not my fault!

As their net is closing in around me, I throw myself to the ground, and then slam through the kitchen doors, dodging this way and that until I make it outside and almost fly up and over a chain-link fence to safety. Problem is, while I have gotten away from the restaurant staff, I still find myself being chased by random smelly drunk people. Somehow I cause myself to throw up over this, which instantly causes them to throw up as well, distracting them so I can get away again. I am dodging around more railroad tracks, and soon find myself on a sort of roundabout, except this time I really am a train for a few minutes.

Soon I find myself on another sort of college campus (not the same one), where I seem to be trying to copy a forbidden record (possibly of Tom Lehrer songs) or perhaps trying to duplicate a very rare record so there is a back-up if anything happens to it, while getting ready to play it on the college radio station. They are trying to stop me, and recover the album, preventing any back-up copies from existing, though I manage to find a good place to hide it, nearly in plain sight. Meanwhile, I am still being chased, and dodging about here and there, while also kind of drifting in and out of sleep. Odd and entertaining.

07-15-2013 -- I am standing around Fullerton College, visiting with people and talking to Neville Longbottom. He needs to find a way to make money, and somebody suggests a high-stakes poker game, but he declines, saying he knows how they collect what they are owed if you lose money, and he needs all his limbs, thank-you-very-much! I try to make a joke, saying maybe he ought to try testing new drugs. I did, made a lot of money, and it never had any effect on me, ::spasm, seizure, drool:: but it falls flat. Never was very good at telling jokes.

Unfortunately, talking about the tough guys seems to bring them about, and they are suddenly after us, even without losing in any high-stakes poker matches. In the process of running from them, we find ourselves in the world of the Wheel of Time, being chased by dark friends as we try to both protect and limit some of the control of the Aes Sedai, while behind us there is a ring where midget wrestling is going on. I don't know why, but every single midget hates every single non-midget, and they are all trying to attack us every chance they get, while we defend ourselves as best we can while trying to ensure nobody gets seriously hurt.

Eventually I escape from that mess, and do a little travel that leaves me arriving in a small sea port where there are lots of small stalls selling sea-related items like carp and sardines and nets and things. There is also a huge six-floor branch of Harrod's, which seems tremendously out of place in this tiny harbor. I am considering going inside and looking for travel guides, which I have decided I want to collect. Soon I have moved inland a little bit, and find myself standing on a slight slope leading to the entrance of some ancient stone works, or perhaps some kind of coal mine, and somehow I know I am somewhere in Gloughchester or Glastonbury or some such area in England.

05-19-2013 -- [Three or four dreams in one. Had a false awakening in this dream where I was recalling it as three separate dreams, before falling back into the dream for yet another part. Entire dream took place between 4:15 and 5:30 in the morning. All earlier dreams while sleeping very badly were rather fragmentary, but may have included Roller Coaster Tycoon.]

First part I can remember (and there may have been a little before this) was somehow driving around the Orlando area with Carl while trying to work on a story I had first started writing back in college, which involved wizards and magic, and lots of history and legend about the world where it is taking place. Oddly enough, though it is a fictional story, I seem to be working on it for possible publication in the Hornet Newspaper. There are twin sisters, witches, living in small, circular cabins somewhere on campus.

One of them officially opposes the evil wizard, while the other pretends to work with him, but in truth she opposes him, as well. The one who officially opposes him finds that her house has burnt down, and as I am looking at it, I can see the somewhat poor burnt house graphics that I was using in my attempt at creating a Realmz scenario, many years ago. Writing a story has turned into writing a RPG computer game.

I am thinking of bringing back Merlin to defeat the evil wizard, then set himself up as a good dictator, and it is now turning from a computer game into a comic book that I am trying to do, which is actually a very bad idea, since I can't draw worth beans! Soon I find myself half running and half biking through long corridors, of stairs and cabinets of china and the like, as dream things shift.

This is where the false awakening claims the first dream ended and the second dream began. The scene is slowly shifting, and I find myself running / biking on one of the major roads from Orlando to Kissimmee (OBT or Orange, I think) and it is very late, perhaps 1 or 2 am. As I am moving along, I find myself being chased by two guys on bikes. I soon find they are threatening me, and they are punks who mug people and steal their stuff.

As they start talking, I find they are French, and really, really stuck up. They think they are the toughest thugs in the world, and are now traveling the world to mug people in different countries to show just how bad they are ... but I find it halfway funny that they are mugging me with little, tiny pocket knives. Still, I'm no fighter, so I am trying to outrun them, and get to the nearby police station for help.

I am somehow riding under and jumping over things on my bike, which really shouldn't work, but I manage to stay ahead of them long enough to reach where I think the police station is, but it isn't there. Instead, I find myself facing a cross between a motorcycle gang and the A-Team. They are toughs, and in a van. They might have been trouble, if it weren't for the circumstances (or they might not), but when I explain about the French thugs chasing me, they decide they'll take care of them, and it turns out the French guys aren't nearly as tough as they think they are, so I turn around and start heading back to Orlando.

According to the false awakening, this is where the third dream began. I'm heading back toward Orlando, but I catch a glimps of a couple of bike riders in the distance, and am worried that it might be the French guys. I know they've been beaten up by the American guys, but also figure this could make them very mad at me, so I don't want to run into them.

I start to run, but slowly rise in the air. I manage to fly by running fast, and am soon running among the roof tops of 2 or 3 story buildings, and big industrial buildings, and thankfully, even if they try, nobody can manage to follow me, so I soon manage to put some distance between myself and the people following me. As I get better and better at this running through the air stuff, I start to think of myself as a sort of super hero, and am becoming more and more impressed with myself.

It is on one of these rooftops that I suddenly find myself "waking up" (though I am still on the rooftop), and I start to write down the three dreams I've had in my dream notebook. And I am very specific in writing them down as the three separate dreams, as I repeat them and try to get all the details down good and firm.

Then I kind of slip back into the dream, and find myself still between Orlando and Kissimmee, but back on the ground, and I start running through the air again to try and reach the rooftops. But now it is a lot more difficult, I can't do nearly as well (find myself almost to the height of a one story rooftop, but have to struggle and scramble to climb onto it), and now the people who are chasing after me seem to be able to run through the air as well as I can, so they are right behind me now. Thankfully, they are not the French guys, but a couple of fairly attractive ladies, though I wake before I find out if they are chasing me for pleasant reasons, or unpleasant.

09-02-2012 -- Again, more bits that serious full dreams, but some interesting parts making it worth noting stuff down. Had trouble sleeping for no known reason, so lots of time spent half-dreaming dull, repetitive stuff involving picking up passengers in Railroad Tycoon without ever building stations. Strange stuff.

---

Some kind of Alvin Maker dream, back in the 1800s. Can't remember much, except I am crossing mountains by climbing a much longer, taller than usual overpass. I get to the top of this thing, and half roll, half jump off a semi-cliff to reach the Indian lands to the west. I visit for a little while, and make plans to return the following year, but only after the spring thaws. The Prophet is laughing. He thinks things are going to happen in such a way that my time estimates will be off, and I'll actually be leading everybody else back just before the major snows of winter hit. Neat stuff, but can't remember most of it.

---

Somehow branching off from the last bit, but in current time. I am driving across the country with two others, Dale, and another person, who is our navigator. Have no idea who he is, though. We're going all the way from Florida to California, and though I try not to ask too often, eventually I have to ask how we're doing, and have far we've gotten, though I promise I won't ask every few minutes, and it won't turn into "Are we there yet? Are we there yet? ..." Suddenly I don't have to ask, because I recognize the small town we've just entered. [Its not a real town, but one I have dreamed of before.] I can't put an exact name to it with any confidence, but I think it is about halfway across on our trip. [The last dream was a trip between California and Nebraska, so I think we're actually more than halfway through, since we're covering the whole country, and not just half.]

Anyway, we've arrived at this town, and it is late in the evening, and we're going to get a room for the night, and a meal. There is a pizza parlor here, and to motel also offers pizza. (Think it is an Econolodge.) I am explaining to Dale that the hotel's pizza is thinner, less toppings, and less tasty, but cheaper. The pizza parlor's pizza is much better tasting, and more filling, but it is also much more expensive, and he is having to decide which one we're going to eat for dinner. The same lady is working the front desk who was working it the ten years ago or so that I was here, and she almost seems to recognize me. Dale is asking about sodas, and she explains they have powdered milk or warm juice available to drink. There just aren't a lot of drink options at the motel, itself.

I refuse to worry about that, though, as I have just remembered that on the last trip through this town, they had Hostess Os donuts, and I'm about to run off and go looking for some. I start to walk out the back door to go get the car when I find somebody in a gorilla mask, carrying a gun. I am afraid I am going to be mugged, but it turns out to be the front desk clerk. She wears the mask and carries the gun when she goes outside to scare off anybody who might try to mug her. So I continue on my way to the car in search of donuts.

---

Am at some odd sort of combination of a hospital or doctor's office and Fullerton College. I'm walking around, trying to find a way to talk to a nurse friend of mine, and just listening to what is going on. I overhear some conversation about how Peter Pyle took advantage of some sort of government program to form his own college -within- Fullerton College. [This is kind of like the way there are a bunch of colleges that make up Cambridge University, which makes sense, since I got to know Peter during the exchange program to Cambridge.] Gives him more control over what he wants to study, and I am thinking it sounds like a good idea.

Somehow I am putting on an old blue blazer from Pedus (first security company I ever worked for) in the hopes that nobody will notice me, and I can go looking for my nurse friend. It turns into a long white smock, which ought to blend in even better. I get distracted, though, by a friend who is looking at a large man-eating plant. [Think of Audrey II from Little Shop of Horrors.] This thing is young, and it can't talk yet. It actually seems slightly friendly, or least not evil. There are two pods (faces, thinking parts) and some of their vines have grown together, so they can't get too far apart. One of my friends is trying to untangle them, but with no real success.

I'm trying to take some pictures at them, and I discover they react at least somewhat well if you sort of cluck at them to draw their attention. Not cluck like a chicken, but like you might make slight sounds to get the attention of a cat or dog, without actually saying anything. One of the pods swings to look at me, and I try to take a picture, but I find my camera is a gun. Well, I find my camera is in the shape of a gun. I stare down the sight, pull the trigger, and it snaps a picture. Problem is, I'm not hearing the click I'm supposed to, so I don't know if it is really taking pictures or not. Anyway, I keep trying to get some good shots. It must be near Christmas time, because I see a marmalade cat shift out of the way as the Grinch peeks out of a hole in the wall above the plant, then pops back in. I call out to try and get it to reappear so I can take a picture of it. I think then gun scares it, though, because suddenly its the Doctor (not sure which one) revealing he was only dressing up as the Grinch.

---

I find myself in the living room of the Hickory house with a couple of friends from high school. For some reason Amy F is asking if we can all remember an old TV show, and making comments about what station showed it. I'm not sure what the show was, might have been Bonanza or Big Valley, but whatever it was, I doubt she could remember the exact station it was shown on, anyway, so I'm kind of considering challenging her to prove what she says she can remember. But since she is sitting on the couch in a short, loose skirt, and crossing and uncrossing her legs a lot, and I am sitting on the floor with a nice view of it, I'm a little distracted. I don't see anything except a nice expanse of leg, but it's still a nice sight. The other friend is a blond that I can't identify, but she suddenly stands up and starts to strip off her shorts. I'm thinking things are starting to get interesting, but she's just running to the restroom with a lightning case of diarrhea. Yuck!