Batch

08-31-2017 -- Let this sit for too long, and the ones for the last couple days, as well, so they will probably all come out as fragments, rather than detailed enough to get full entries for themselves. For today's dreams, I know there were bits with Cindy L., and something about delivery driving or mystery shopping. I know there was something with Joe L. and cell phones (probably being broken or dropped or something) and Ubering. And then the finishing bit ended up being in an Eisenhower Park-like setting with hints of Mammoth Cave. I was walking near a river above ground, and there were hints of some sort of miracle-like healing tunnel rumored to be in the area. It had been mentioned earlier, during a camp-out (perhaps with Joe as the scout master), and I was wondering where it was, and looking for it.

The 'cave' areas were looking quite man-made, and there was supposed to be one 'pipe-like' tunnel leading to the special healing area, but instead it looked like some large sort of sewer with dozens of pipes coming in. When I started asking around, some of the regulars made me aware that there were several levels of the cave, and the healing tunnel was on the lowest level. Unfortunately, it has been raining recently, and I can see at least one large stream of water pouring down a ramp to lower levels, and am being warned that there is at least a 50-50 chance that the lowest level is currently completely flooded, and that if it isn't, it soon could be. Interesting dream, that I wish I could remember in more detail.

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08-30-2017 -- Or perhaps one day earlier. Who can say. Odd dream where I am riding a bus with mom, and talking to the bus driver. For a couple of minutes I take a seat in the row right behind the driver, next to a black woman, just to chat. But when we finish our brief conversation, I excuse myself, apologize to the black woman for encroaching on her space, and move further back in the bus. Soon after that, I find myself standing near a building as a low-flying airplane flies right into it at fairly low speed. The building cuts an airplane-like shape into the wall, much like a cartoon.

The building turns into the Pentagon, and soon the airplane is backing out of the building again, unharmed. We're discussing these new planes that are still light enough to fly, but strong enough that they can pass through buildings without bringing harm to themselves. Meanwhile, I am right behind the airplane, filming it coming out of the building with my video camera, while having to throw myself to the side to avoid being run over by its tires as it backs out of the building.

Find myself sitting on what starts as the bus, but soon turns into the airplane, itself. We are in the process of being recruited to work for the US government in various capacities, and I decide I want to fly the big 747s that can fly through buildings. Olga Vukavitch is the one asking us what areas we would like to be working in, and I am trying to bring up the footage I just shot under the airplane to show her what I would like to be doing, but my laptop computer is not cooperating.

Soon things turn slightly odd, as a bunch of enemy soldiers are storming into the plane, trying to take over and catch prisoners, and their leader seems to be Kim Jung Il. I'm kind of sitting back out of the way with my laptop. I have no weapons, and I don't have any idea of what to do. Somebody else is somewhat insulting of me, for not being more involved to try and stop things, but I excuse myself by saying I haven't been given any orders, yet. Sad.

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08-29-2017 -- Or around there. I'm somewhere, watching Bonnie going on some sort of slingshot-like ride that has her being hoisted up in chains to the top of a parachute jump-like tower (like at Knott's) where she is hoisted up by her arms, but also kind of runs along the tower like a slightly off version of rappelling. When she gets to the top, she seems to be kind of making some kind of meal (or perhaps potion) with ingredients that just kind of appear in the area, which could be quite valuable. She is assisted in this by a woman who works at the top of the tower, who most reminds me of 'The Architech' from the Player-Owned Ports content of Runescape.

Meanwhile, I am helping her bundle up her creation in a large storage container, in preparation of getting it back to the ground. Oddly, though I am at first at the top of the tower with her, I soon find myself running around at ground level again. I seem to spend a lot of time trying to use a small elevator which doubles as a waiting room at the odd cross between a doctor's office and Hewitt Associates. It seems that what everybody thinks is an elevator may only be made to look like one. Or not. It is very confusing. At least at one point, I end up a couple of stories further up in the building, where upper management hangs out in rich quarters, with spas, and a large swimming pool, lording it over the peons. There is also at least a little bit involving them trying to get me to come back to another position in the company, but by this time, I have had, and eventually gotten fired from so many positions so many times, that I really have no further interest in working for Hewitt, and I am amazed they keep trying to bring me back. Would have remembered more of this, the first day. Too bad I waited three or four days to write it down.

05-29-2017 -- The earlier one was also a bit strange. It seemed to be an odd cross between a political convention and a family reunion. We were in Washington, probably in the Snohomish house, except it was two or three stories and fairly large. There was a lot of discussion of old candies and stuff that were no longer available, but that we were trying to figure out how to recreate (including some sort of peanut butter cereal that we were determined to create again) while at the same time talking with the two lousy candidates from the recent election, and also an independent candidate or two who would have been far better than either of the real candidates.

Some of the folks from church were around (including Tom Drick and Jeff Steinberg), and I think Randy was the one actual relative that I could find in the family reunion that I recognized. I think in the dream, the absolute worst candidate won, and we ended up with Hillary as president, but we were at least happy that the very good independent choice (who I cannot remember ... maybe it was some TV hero or something) got some electoral votes or something. But whatever the exact results were, I was very disgusted, and decided that I needed to get out of there and take a break.

The problem was, the reunion was huge, and there was a driveway kind of like Dale's, long and narrow and blocked in, and when I went looking for my car to drive off, there were dozens of cars gridlocked in, and even when I went looking for it, I couldn't find my gray Corolla among them, much less be able to get it out of there. The problem was, there were so many cars (now turning into hundreds) that they somehow had to start shrinking them to fit them all in, so that they were piled 3 and 4 high, but were only about two feet by four feet in size. So now I'm looking through these hundreds of tiny cars, on several levels of a sort of parking garage structure that had been put together in this small driveway space.

But something went wrong, and the cars all seemed to still have their full mass even if they were suddenly about a tenth of the size, and they were starting to collapse the structure, because there was too much weight, and that caused the cars to start reverting to their normal size, and they were all beginning to crush together and break apart, while the parking structure was being forced to expand to contain them, and was tearing apart ever quicker.

Soon it was like one of the earthquake movies, with us running through the levels trying to get out, as things collapse around us, avoiding being squished by falling cars and concrete. We finally made it out of the structure and away from the house and driveway, thinking we were probably finally safe, just to find that we had such a large group and so much mass squeezed into such a small space that the exploding, re-expanding mess was now continuing to expand and started to fill up the entire state, somehow also causing horrible flooding.

Somehow we were stuck in a sort of garbage barge with huge flowing masses of the expanding damaged cars and structures, where we had to keep scrambling to stay on top of the stuff, so that we didn't get pulled into the huge hydraulic crushers that would have mashed us into a pulp. All very frightening and horrible, but still interesting to 'live' through.

02-21-2015 -- [Rated at least PG-13 or R for mostly non-specific and undetailed robot sex.] I find myself at the Moran house, on the enclosed, roofed-in path leading to the front door. For some reason, there is a sort of couch or lounge here, and I am laying on it, while some of my crap is just laying around out here. I think there is something about my sister being around and speaking to me, but then she vanishes. Carl stops by, and I think I am asking him about possible help with a move or something, but he tells me he doesn't have the time, and suggests hiring movers, and I grumble that I'll never have the chance of doing that. Rosemary is inside, looking out the kitchen window, and I know she is just waiting for Carl to leave to come out and start grumbling at me, so as he leaves, I lay down and pretend to be sleeping.

I only start to 'wake' when Rosemary calls my name a couple of times, and I start doing the snort, 'wha?' type of thing. She is kind of annoyed with me, but isn't doing a lot of lecturing. Instead it seems she has been gathering up my clothes and starting to wash them. She is folding some of my old guard shirts, and tosses me a couple of pairs of guard pants to fold, and I don't say anything, but I am wondering where she found them, as I haven't worked as a guard for more than 10 years. As I am folding them and setting them aside, I am glancing around and discovering there are a lot of broken fragments of wasp nests around, and that more and more angry wasps seem to be showing up, too. I duck into the house and shut the door behind me, but I notice there is a sort of a vent in the door, and I worry that the wasps will just follow me inside. But they don't.

I'm amazed, and ask about it, but as soon as I ask, I notice there is a sort of a glass cover on the vent, keeping the wasps out. Of course, as soon as I notice the cover and touch it, it starts to fall out, and I'm struggling to get it back in place, while a couple of the wasps are managing to slip inside. At this point things kind of shift a bit, and I find myself standing in the back yard (still at the Moran house), and there seems to be almost a sort of a small carnival going on or something. There are lots of people wandering around, and I don't know, but it may be a clown alley thing, because Chris and Roger have set up a 'booth' that is a sort of a paintball obstacle field, but instead of paint guns, they are making the kids balloon swords, and letting them in to go wild. The others in the alley are kind of looking down on them, but they figure the kids are having a ball, and are really happy, so it's all good to them, and I rather agree.

Then the dream shifts for just a moment or two, and I think I am reading some strange novelizations that have been written of the Harry Potter movies, changing things a bit, just like the movies changed things a little from the actual novels they were based on, and I think there are bits of the golden trio and Dumbledore and maybe a slightly kinder version of Snape running around the Hogwarts grounds being chased by Rover (weather balloon from The Prisoner) or something weird like that. Then it's gone, and I'm back to the main dream.

Still at the carnival, still lots of people running around, and a lady comes up to me asking me about something. No idea what, but whatever it is, I am directing her to Rosemary for an answer, when I know I could answer her myself, and I shouldn't be passing on all the work to Rosemary ... but I do, anyway. She just mutters about how Rosemary is clueless, and doesn't know what is going on. By that point, I've wandered over toward the side yard, and some guy, older, self-important, and a bit heavy, is complaining about us not having a room for him or something, and I comment on how this isn't a hotel, which only makes him madder.

Suddenly we're back in the covered path leading to the front door, and there are several more people around, and the guy is still complaining. I look at him and tell him he really ought to get out of here before the invasion happens. And suddenly there it is in my mind. The Cylon invasion that I have lived through before in the past, and I suddenly realise it is just about to happen again. (Past dream? Not that I remember, but who knows.) I start warning the others that they might want to get out while they can. But most of them don't move. We're still in the covered walk, but now where the front door ought to be, there is a conveyor belt coming from one of the ships, and unoading supplies.

At first the belt is moving really quick, and a couple of metal bars (kind of like rebarb, but rectangle-ish) come shooting out, and I just kind of dodge out of the way. Then it is several crates, and I am kind of pushing them as the drop off the belt, so they half stack on the right side of the path, facing where the door should be. There are a couple of computers and monitors, then some more bars, but this time moving slowly enough that I just support them and push them on past me. As more and more stuff comes down the conveyor belt, and not enough people help stack and move stuff, the narrow path is becoming more and more crowded and cluttered.

Suddenly all the crates and supplies have been loaded onto a small caravan of robotic trucks, and we're just clutching to the crates and hanging off the sides as they are taken a short distance to a huge warehouse, where the trucks just pull in and park in rows. We're trying to figure out where we are and what we should do next. One slightly friendly android warns us that in about five minutes they will seal the warehouse, and activate some sort of security system that will kill any humans inside. They are not specifically trying to kill us, they just sort of exterminate any 'vermin' that slip in with the supplies! Oh joy! We start to kind of panic, and begin running around trying to figure out how we can get out of here.

Most of the walls, even with doors in them, we have no idea what they might lead to, and if we managed to break through the (locked) doors, we might only find ourselves further into the same warehouse. I see one set of perhaps six or eight doors marked as emergency exits, but they are alarmed, and I know if we bust out, we'll find ourselves facing a large troop of Cylon Raiders ready to blast us (from the 70s show, not the 2000 version.) This is what I mean by budget ... I know there are tons of scifi aliens around, but we never actually see almost anyone or anything actually cool looking.

As we run around, I see Barack Obama standing there in a suit, a bit of a smirk on his face, kind of directing the robot trucks into their places. They don't actually need or care about his direction, and he doesn't realize the place is about to be sealed up and he is going to be exterminated with the rest of us, and it seems sort of poetic justice, since he collaborated with them in setting up the whole invasion, anyway. I continue along rows of supplies and pallets of stuff, and come across an attractive blonde in a yellow polka-dot sun dress sort of thing, doing odd contortions that show off her body a bit, and her rather nice legs and underwear, as she decides she wants to have sex before she dies, and one of the others decides to help her out.

At that point, an odd sort of blocky robot wearing a similar yellow polka-dot dress is kind of asking "Sex? What is sex?" and indicating an interest in learning about the subject. I make a comment about how we've no time to teach 'her' as we're all about to be killed, and some of the others indicate I'm stupid not to take advantage of the situation. So I start to think that maybe this will somehow lead to a way to survive this, and I decide to have sex with the robot. The problem is, as I approach it, it is shrinking. It started out perhaps four feet tall, with a blocky, but still fairly human shape. It is now perhaps eight inches tall, and mostly one square, hollow tube, about 2" x 4" x 6" with thin arms coming out the sides, and ticker legs sticking out a couple of inches at the bottom. The head is now nothing more than a small mouth slot near the top of the 'body.' I reach out and pick it up and the legs fall off. I raise it to look at it's 'bottom' and it is more or less a hollow square tube with a smaller hollow square tube (about 1 3/4" x 1 3/4") at one end. I kind of shrug and push myself in it, and it is tight, uncomfortable, and no fun. With every stroke, my tip kind of pokes out the mouth slot. And the robot it kind of losing its mind, but probably not in any sort of a good way. Then I wake up. Weird.

06-30-2014 -- Playing semi-live Runescape like in many recent dreams, and like most of them, doing herb runs and farming in the Port Phasmatys area, and kind of chasing ghosts around in a weird version of penguins, with just a hint of flashbacks to the Frozen RS dream and the Russians / spies RS dream. I seem to be playing right next to Neville Longbottom, and am helping him to try and figure out his part of the game / dream. At one point I knock over my ecto-vial, and am scrambling to get it upright and recapped before enough leaks out that it activates, but I find myself sitting in a cross between a car and a bed, scrambling to get little tiny blue pills (about the size of an eye glasses screw head, which is quite tiny) back in the bottle.

Soon I find myself kind of being possessed, and I find I am following an almost Maleficent-like witch [no, I haven't seen the movie, or even any trailers for it] through a cave, over a red carpet. I'm trying to break free of her control, and she is trying to get me to the place of the sacrifice before I can. I guess I manage to break free on time, because I soon find myself sitting at a desk, continuing to pick up the tiny blue pills, and I start to find white and pink ones as well. I can't believe how many pills I have managed to drop.

It turns out I am sitting at my desk in a call center, in front of a 60" (or so) monitor, and Rosemary, my supervisor, comes stalking up to me, angry because I am playing Runescape, and ordering me to stop and get back to work. She stalks off, but I have no intention of stopping. It is a break, or perhaps my lunch, and during those times my time is my own. [in real life, while my time would still be my own, their computer equipment would not be my own.] Still, Rosemary pulling my computer away from me disconnected me from the game. Worse, I have been logging in for weeks using a special in game item or control, an it seems it just expired and disappeared. And now I can't find anything to double-click on to log in! Darn it!

I'm sitting here grumbling to myself about the situation, as a bunch of new employees are being walked into the office, and one is being sat right behind me. She is vaguely attractive, but has an almost overly-cheery attitude, kind of like Kathy Najimy's character in Sister Act, and is bugging me, saying I ought to listen to 'Miss Rosemary,' and I should be reading a book, or maybe a magazine about gay-lesbian-bi issues or something, and I snap. I snarl at her, and tell her I have probably read some 50k books in my life, far more, I'm sure, than she ever has, that I have no interest in reading any of her liberal clap-trap, and how my break time is my own, and I will do whatever I darn well please with it!

11-11-2013 -- [Probably earlier bits I can't remember.] Am on what seems to be a sort of college campus, perhaps in a quad or something. There are a lot of people around and a lot of arguments. Politics or racial issues (repub vs dems or America vs Islam), and a lot of people feeling very strongly or getting upset. There is a blonde professor (female) and Lisa Williams (the DJ, not the psychic) arguing about the issues, and things get tense enough that they actually reach the point of getting into a bit of a fight, shoving each other around and throwing blows.

At one point in all this, I get caught in a legs scissor by a massive guy who is crushing me and causing me some serious pain as he squeezes me with massive tree trunk legs, but I eventually manage to wrestle my way free. At one point I end up sitting down on a bench and talking to a young woman (brunette, 18-20) who thinks I am an idiot, but doesn't particularly have anything against me. Right now she is griping and complaining about her mother, who is the blonde professor. The girl kind of reminds me of Faith from BtVS.

The professor comes along and is arguing with the girl, and seems to be raking up leaves as well, cleaning the area up. She is blonde, somewhere in the age range of 45-50, and has large breasts. She is wearing somewhat loose clothes, and when she bends far enough over while raking and gathering leaves, her impressive breasts end up swinging out, and I am enjoying watching her. She either doesn't notice, or doesn't care, but does ask me to help with the raking, and gathering leaves, even as she is asking about the size of my lawn waste garbage bags. I tell her I don't know what size they are, only that they are fairly big. I don't really want to do this, but it will keep me close to be able to keep enjoying those breasts, so I agree.

I grab a broken rake (the part of the handle remaining is only about three feet long) and start to do some raking, gathering up leaves, and avoiding several 2"-3" thick branches the professor has stacked in a pile on the ground. Soon I also find myself gathering up some litter and garbage out of the gutter, and dodging a somewhat large and possibly danger spider under some of the junk. Meanwhile, a cement truck is backing up to the curb, though I don't know why. Gathering more leaves, and the professor (who is still falling out of her top) invites me home with her and her daughter for some coffee and maybe some food. I am hoping this is going to lead to something pleasant, so I agree, and suddenly we are there.

The house is kind of damaged, and packed with lots of junk, and I manage to find the worn and beaten coffee maker and haul it over to her, then ask her to look at it and see if it needs anything else, so that if it does, I can start looking through all the junk, trying to find it. She says it ought to be OK, and says she is making some meatloaf. This worries me since most people make meatloaf with onions, and I am kind of mildly allergic to onions. The daughter is helping with some of the clean-up and still griping, and I may have kind of half-woke, because I find myself trying to recall the earlier bits of the dream (Lisa and the politics and stuff) and am looking for something to write them down on, but am having problems finding anything.

Suddenly instead of being in the professor's house, I find myself in an enlarged version of the Pageant house, but it is owned by Rosemary. This is like several other dreams in the last year or so, where my room is in the same place, but is a lot larger, and there are four beds in the room, and four of us share it. The whole room is quite messy, with everybody's stuff and clothes strewn all about the place. One of the other roommates (who reminds me of one of the roommates from the Amidon house, though I can't remember his name) is complaining about the mess, and I point out that I am only one of four tossing stuff everywhere, but say that since Rosemary kicked me out, within another week or two, I will have all my stuff out. Meanwhile, I am still looking for an envelope to write the early part of the dream down.

I take a few minutes to pet Lady (one of Rosemary's dachshunds), and the unhappy roommate wanders around cleaning some of his stuff, when Rosemary comes bustling in. She seems unhappy with me, which doesn't surprise me. What does surprise me is the seeming reason. She demands to know why I wasn't around for Thanksgiving dinner, and complains of lots of food that didn't get eaten. I explain that, after our last argument, and how she threw me out, I didn't think I was really welcome. Turns out I was.

Anyway, I finally find an envelope to write the dream down on, but as I am trying to do so, the unhappy roommate starts spraying something on stuff. There is no pleasant odor, so it probably isn't an air freshener. It might be a bug spray or something. But since he is spraying it on clothes laying around, books, and even some comic books, I'm getting a little worried. He tells me the comics are his, and not some of mine, but still.... Meanwhile, I still can't concentrate on writing down the dream, and Rosemary may be coming back to do more ranting, so I decide to try and go back to the professor's place.

I exit the house, and find myself on a hill. It may be in Omaha, or possibly in England. It has some of the feel of both. I am wearing roller skates, and find myself rolling down the hill very fast, so step off on some grass to slow myself down for a moment. I see a cop in a patrol car, and am worried he'll hassle me, but I have my back to him, and he drives right past me. I continue down the hill to the main street, and make a right turn onto it, just to discover I have no idea where the professor lives. So I just start wandering the neighborhood, hoping to recognize something.

Eventually, I step into a house and am wondering if it is the right place, then I find an answering machine, and it is my sister's, and I find that the message I left her, that I worried couldn't be heard because of my voice, actually came through better than I expected. About that time the professor's daughter tells me I have been rude, and to sit down and eat the huge steak her mother cooked for me, so I guess I found the right house.

08-29-2013 -- [Short dream with not too much to it, that turned out to be quite detailed and long.] Something about cats, other animals, and possibly digging holes in the back yard at the Hickory house. Something else about BC being around. Then I find myself in a classroom setting. It feels very like a high school class, though the teacher is Julie Davey. No idea what the subject is. I've just finished a test of some sort, and it seemed somewhat quick and simple. I seem to be spending the time afterward brainstorming some fiction writing or something, perhaps a Victor story, when Julie comes by for my test, surprised I am done so quickly.

I explain I think I did quite well, and she agrees, knowing how I always seem to test pretty well, and I start rummaging through my things until I come across the newspaper clipping we were supposed to be reviewing after the test. Glancing at the picture, wondering what it is about, I see almost a full-size model of a rocket, made out of huge balloons, and am thinking how I've made a similar ship out of a 160 and a bee body many times.

Julie looks at the clock, and it is just a couple of minutes before 5:30, so she tells us to start gathering our things, and get back to a more usual seating arrangement than the random groupings we'd been in. I end up sitting next to a cute blonde, waiting for the last couple of minutes to end, and we somehow seem to be talking about how about half the class had left at 1:30. Perhaps it was an optional class or something.

Class is soon over, and I find myself approaching Dale's house. I almost seem to be floating over the Nabisco plant to reach his driveway. (Considering later in the dream I am lucid and do some flying, perhaps I was flying here, as well.) I am driving a car, but as I approach their driveway, I remember something about them repaving it, and I walk up carrying my motorcycle, trying to get it on the strip of grass next to the paved driveway, where all their cars are parked, right now. (In real life, that strip of grass is at most a foot and a half wide.)

I find myself passing three animals that seem to look a lot like wolves, and I am a little worried, but not much. Then they shift and sit up, then start to hop off, and I realize they aren't wolves, but kangaroos, and wonder what the heck they are doing in Buena Park? Somehow I seem to be soaked, so I am taking off my pants and shirt and dropping them on the cycle, and wrapping myself in a big gray towel. About that time, Kevin wanders out of the house, says a couple of sentences of what seems to be gibberish, and then climbs in a car and drives off, which worries me. (He's not allowed to drive.)

I open the door to the house and walk in, only thinking about what I might walk into to barging into somebody else's house without knocking after I get inside, so I kind of bashfully knock on the wall. Fred and Betty are in the living room, and they don't seem to have minded my walking right in. I spot odd movement on the floor, and find myself looking at an odd white and pink puppy that seems to be a cross between a bijon and a poodle, though the coloring looks like some of the white and pink snakes I saw pictures of on the internet a few months ago. Soon I see two more wiggling out from under the blank. I ask Betty "You got new dogs?", kind of surprised. She tells me they don't know if they will keep them.

I have brought a cheap pizza with me, and open the refrigerator to put it in there, and see they have maybe 3/4 of a huge 26 inch party pizza from Ciro's sitting in there, pepperoni and sausage. Wish I'd known ... I wouldn't have bothered with the lousy one I got. I'm thinking I have to see if I can snag a couple of slices. Meanwhile, I am trying to find Dale, so I walk a few feet down the corridor to his room, but when I glance inside, he has a couple of girls in there, with him. [Not doing anything wrong ... this isn't that kind of dream.] I'm thinking about razzing him about it, until I realize I am still walking around wrapped in a towel, and decide I had better get some clothes on. It seems today is a big ball game of some sort, and they have a lot of people over to see it.

I walk outside, wanting to get my clothes, but somehow the area has changed a little, and I have to climb a fence (like we were going to visit Bertha) to get back to where my motorcycle is parked, I finally find it, and grab my blue shirt and start putting it on, just to discover I am putting it on over the top of another one. Somehow a shirt and pants just appeared on my body, and I realize I am dreaming. I try to hop the fence back to Dale's, but somehow I seem to be being pulled in the opposite direction. So I leap up and try to fly, and manage the flying, but am getting sucked at high speed toward what was the Nabisco plant. I go crashing through a wall, and find myself standing in a room surrounded by people.

It seems I have somehow been kind of summoned, as I am now surrounded by lots of people, and they have called me to be a candidate, as they try to figure who they want as their candidate for president. There are a bunch of other candidates as well, and they are talking to people, making speeches, and all of them are holding on to their wives. Every one. I look around and see an attractive blonde (she kind of looks like Reese Witherspoon) watching everything, and I grab her and pull her to me, just kind of joking around. She turns to tell me off, and our eyes meet, and wow! It's like we suddenly know everything about each other. Her head kind of tilts to the side as she studies me, and a small grin starts to form on her face before I lean in and give her a gentle kiss, then wrap my arm around her shoulder. We're now a couple, and very happy to have found each other.

But she is working here, and has things to do, so I have to let her go for a time. The others and I are writing speeches and songs or something, and I am singing a little ditty I've been working on. It's not fabulous, but it's not too bad, either. But one of the others makes a really nasty comment about it. I turn to him, ready to rip into his song, but I don't really want to run that kind of a campaign, so I have to settle for simply telling him his needs some work, too. Besides, I don't really have all that much interest in singing some kind of political song. Instead, I decide I want to sing to my new love, and am trying to remember the words to a song I wrote about 18 years ago called Love with Me. In waking life I can remember it fine, but in the dream, it was a struggle. Meanwhile, I have no voice, so I am not going to be able to sing well, but I hope the words (and the fact that I wrote it) will still have meaning to her.

Dale is here, as well, and we are wandering around the convention, and for some reason I am carrying a fire hose with me, though it isn't spraying. We're just approaching a stadium, and preparing to look for seats, and I am wondering just how much length this hose has, as I've dragged it a pretty far distance by this time. My new girlfriend shows up, and I drape my arm around her shoulder, lean my head against her, and just relax in the wonderful feeling of having her there next to me.

05-04-2013 -- I am back working a shift at the Mercedes dealership I used to work at, and the other guard is hassling me because I can't seem to open my eyes ... literally. I can hear everything that is going on, but I can't see it because I can't wake up ... or maybe because I haven't fallen deep enough asleep. Anyway, he is also complaining that I am in the reception area, because they have changed policies, and they no longer want us in that area, even though that is where the security monitors are. I'm thinking if they want to make that big a fuss without actually bothering to tell me, they can fire me!

I've just come on, and the dealership is filled with hundreds of people ... far more than are ever here normally, and there seems to be a sort of party going on, with tons of people, including some lovely ladies, but I can't actually see any of the sales staff anywhere, so I have no idea what is going on. At least I can see, now.

Decide to go downstairs to use the restroom, just to find the doors to both restrooms have been kind of wallpapered over, so they are unavailable. I seem to remember some kind of employee restroom a little further back in the corridor by the parts department, so go to check there, but get distracted and return to the main showroom floor.

Where I find myself watching a fight between Spider-Man and the Green Goblin, and they are really going at it! At one point, the Savage Dragon jumps into things, as well! This can't be real, can it? I know super heroes don't really exist ... are they filming a movie or something? That may be it, because every time they turn to look our way, we duck out of sight, and get really quiet! "No," the costumed villain crouched next to me tells me, "We aren't staying out of a movie ... I just don't want to be beaten up."

Spider-Man scores a good punch on one of the bad guys, and he flies across the room to the lower level of the lobby (which was only a single story in real life ... but in dreams ...), and I decide it's all just too weird tonight, and I'm getting proof, so I whip out my trusty digital camera and start taking pictures. Soon after I start downloading them into my laptop when a Chinese guy starts to berate me for using the staff's computers. He looks like a cross between Charlie Chan and Mr. Fuji. I explain it is my computer and he's like "Uh ... ah ... well all right, then."

I start to descend the stairway from the reception desk down to the reception desk (hey, dream ...) and the crowds are getting ever thicker. The dress is also getting a lot more formal, and is starting to look like wedding party dresses or prom dresses ... something really nice. A nice looking, older blonde (40s), very professional looking, is a few steps behind me on the staircase, and she drops a present she is carrying, and it bounces down to me, so I pick it up and decide to carry it down for her. But when I get to the bottom of the staircase I find it blocked by a wall of presents, perhaps four feet deep and six feet across, completely blocking it. I drop the present on the stack and start to climb back up, explaining to the lady as I pass her, and fighting through the ever-worsening crowds, at times even climbing over small children to do so.

When I get back up near Janna's office (and it -is- now Janna's office, not a warehouse with super heroes fighting) I find myself staring at a little oriental girl, perhaps 8-10 years old who is obviously in the middle of a potty-mergency (thank you, Animaniacs) as she dances around. Suddenly an older Chinese woman who reminds me of a non-animated version of Cookie Kwan from the Simpsons walks up and tells me it is my responsibility to guide the girl (and 9 or 10 others) to the restroom. I try to refuse, but give in gracefully after a few seconds, and start to lead them to the short stairway down to the restrooms and parts.

Men's room no longer blocked, but it is being cleaned. The woman's room is still wallpapered over, so we continue on to the parts department, and this time I manage to find both men's and women's restrooms there. The kids use the restrooms. They also use the parts door leading outside, climb on the flower beds, and fall off. Thankfully the party is interesting enough that when they fall off they decide they aren't hurt.

I herd them back inside, and back up to the main showroom, and the crowds are worse than ever, so I try to get away slightly by stepping out onto the 'porch' by the main stairs up to the showroom, and just kind of look around, but even here it is crowded. As I stand there, Keith Thompson comes up behind me and demands to know why I have been avoiding him. I try to tell him I haven't been avoiding him as he searches through my (suitcase? gym bag? backpack?) and takes back the Kuya Kano CD he'd loaned me. He glances at it and sees there are a bunch of scratches on it, and demands to know what I have been doing with it, before he realizes the scratches just might be the music tracks.

I'm trying to explain I'm not avoiding him, things have just been hectic, when a couple of young Chinese guys say something that is probably slightly insulting, and Keith turns around and responds to them. The look of shock on their faces is great, and I just burst out laughing. It is Hiro and Ando from Heroes (yes, I know, when awake, Japanese, Chinese, different ... asleep, not so much). "I love that! I love the faces people make when they realize ..." Ando interrupts me "You know language!" I just keep laughing.

I start to turn back to Keith, only to discover he has stalked off, still angry, thinking I am avoiding him. I am about to go after him when I am distracted by a potential budding incident. Down at the base of the stairs there are three guys sitting there chanting. It seems to be a cross between Arabic and the chanting that 'Padulla' (Bubba Smith) did in Police Academy 4. Surrounding them are several white bread white guys praying in English. This is getting weirder by the second. They all seem to be working together at something, and again I pull out my camera to try and get some odd pictures, but another person on the stairs asks if I have permission to take photos, saying he doubts they want their fight captured on film. That comment is all it takes for it to start to turn into a fight, rather than working together.

I am starting to get worried, when everything changes. Across the street (where there is supposed to be a freeway) is a stadium, and there is a serial killer in the stadium who's weapon of choice is an air cannon (t-shirt gun) he loads with some sort of orange goop that kills anyone it hits. He shoots at 10 or 12 people in the stadium, and in the process turns an entire section of seats orange, before he turns his attention to us and starts firing our way.

Almost seems like he is trying to miss, like he is giving us a chance to scatter and run, but there are several people who are commenting they aren't going to run or back down, and they look like people from my choir. I'm kind of in between. I'm not going to run away, but if a shot comes my way, I am sure going to dodge.

BLANG! A shot hits the window next to me and coats it orange, then I feel a tiny sting and hear a loud clattering, and I turn to look at the staircase I'm standing on, and there are thousands of jelly beans or gum balls or something of the sort rolling down the stairs. I look around carefully, and find a dumpster where the flowerbed should be, filled with four or five people wearing bird mascot costumes. For some reason they are here to throw candy whenever the serial killer shoots his goop.

As far as I am concerned, anybody who wears a giant bird mascot costume in public has already consented to have their photo taken, so I am pulling out my camera to try to get some pictures, but suddenly it won't work. The camera won't focus. I keep bumping the wrong buttons, I can barely even hold the camera, and suddenly it is falling to pieces!

02-05-2013 -- [First time in several days a detailed dream worth recalling.] I am in BM's place, probably the trailer, and we are cleaning something, probably the guest bathroom. I need to go to the bathroom, so I sneak into BM's bedroom to use her bathroom, hoping she'll never know, and won't mind if she finds out. I am taking a pee, but my aim isn't perfect, and a few drops splash on the floor. I cover it up with a bit of paper.

Unfortunately it seems BM needs to use the bathroom, too, so is at the door asking what I am doing there and telling me to hurry up. So I get out of the way, and we are standing in her bedroom talking. I glance out the window, and we are suddenly on something like the 7th floor of a hotel, and there are planes falling out of the sky, which is terrifying. But worse, as we watch, one is very close and heading directly at the window.

We run, bolting out of the room and into the hallway, all the while I am making like Marvin the Martian, and wondering where is the earth-shattering kaboom. Somehow by this point we are running down a hall on the third floor, when I hear the crash, and see the plane plowing through a wall maybe a hundred yards away, and crashing through the hotel. It swung around and came through at a different angle and a lower altitude, and it is moving rather slowly, so I fear it is packed with enemy soldiers who will try to seize the hotel.

I don't know what is going to happen, or how bad things are going to be later, so I am considering running back to the hotel room to get my prescriptions, but I decide it would be too dangerous, and to just get out until I can find out whether they just crash the planes, or storm the hotel from the wreckage. BM has already disappeared, and I look at the two story escalator going down to the lobby. Somehow I enter the wrong one, and am running down the steps as others are being elevated. Silly me.

When I reach the lobby and burst outside, there is no sign of BM, and instead I am meeting Dale. We're discussing what is going on, while he sits in his rental car, on the wrong side of the car. He says it is because he hasn't eaten yet, and when he is hungry, he makes mistakes. I am thinking there is also the possibility that he is confused because we are in Denmark. Anyway, we get in his car, and we are driving to somewhere to eat, while listening to radio reports about traitors helping the invaders from the wreckage of the plane and being killed for it. Yup ... it's an invasion.

He says he always goes to Applebee's to watch the big game, and I'm thinking 'wasn't the big game yesterday?' [My mind was only one day behind.] Anyway, we are suddenly in the restaurant at the counter and paying for our meal, and they are giving him his change all in coins, while helping us pack up our leftover food, and the rest of our stuff. They have a small bag of my stuff that I don't know where it came from, and my dream journal, which somehow has a large corner banged up and worn, like it's been used for years.

Somehow they are giving Dale a haircut, and he is wearing an odd, pointed balloon hat while they do, which is kind of strange. Oddly, instead of him tipping them, they tip him, and it is a rather large tip. He comments on how they tipped him enough for him to buy us all a round of drinks, including Carsten, who is now with us. [Dale doesn't drink.]

01-23-2013 -- I'm on some sort of church camping trip with Mike Sullins and the gang. I'm not sure, but I think I was an adult for the whole dream, kind of helping to oversee the trip, and it has been an OK trip, but not fabulous. We're loading up the bus to head back to the church, and I find myself trying to half claim one of the front seats. I am given the front bench on the passenger side, which is fine. Some little kid who may be the pastor's son is given the spot just under the bar that I used to love as a kid, but it doesn't bother me as I couldn't fit there as an adult, anyway.

Mike is driving, and the trip home from the usual camp (from dreams, didn't go camping with this church in real life) seems very short, only taking around 45 minutes, when it always seemed the trip used to take 1 1/2 to 2 hours. Soon we're pulling into the church parking lot, and starting to unload the bus, while waiting for parents to come and pick their kids up. I'm probably waiting for everybody else to be picked up, before I get a ride home on the bus.

Mike is going on and all about how good the Boy Scouts are, and how great the trip was, and stuff like that. He seems to be dressed in a scout master uniform, and the pastor's son is in a scout uniform. But something is said that seems to tick the kid off, and he suddenly stalks out of the room, down the driveway, and out to curb on Page Avenue.

He starts angrily calling for his dad, the pastor, who is standing about 20 feet away, but doesn't seem to hear him. This amazes me since I am much further away, and inside the building, but I can hear him just fine. After three loud calls, his father hears him, and walks over and picks him up. He talks to him and comforts him a bit, then puts him back in the room where I am waiting around.

The boy is maybe four or five, and he starts playing with a little girl who is maybe six or seven. Soon they're wrestling a bit, and there seem to be hints of Indian Wrestling in their play, but other forms of wrestling, as well. Somehow it overflows, and I am something of an innocent bystander, as I soon find myself lying on the ground, half-restrained, with them undoing my pants for some reason.

Right at that moment, the assistant pastor busts in, and starts ranting and raving, and wants to know what the Sam Hill is going on! I think he feels something wrong, sexually, is going on, as they are undoing my pants, and I try to defend myself by saying maybe I should have put a stop to things sooner, but I wouldn't have let it go any further if they had tried to pull down my pants, but he seems to blame the kids and feels they are being very evil, and I am only being foolish.

"What if they'd used super glue on you?" He demands. "It could have taken us hours to free you. Or even days if we couldn't get the proper solvent!" He keeps ranting on and on about how bad the kids were, and how could I have allowed this, and it is the story oh Jonah and the Whale all over again! I don't see it as the same thing at all. I don't see how that story ties in, and I don't see any of it as all that bad, but he just won't listen at all.

Finally I have had enough, and like the kid before me, I stalk out of the the room, step over a tiny fence (maybe a foot or a foot and a half tall, more decorative than anything else), and to the curb on Page Avenue, just like the pastor's son, before me. The assistant pastor is calling after me, trying to stop me from going, and not getting why I was so upset with him, but I won't listen, and I keep on my way. I walk down Page to Stanton, then walk under the freeway overpass, before making my way down Calendula and into the flower tract.

I don't know what the big deal is ... I don't agree with the guy, but its not like I don't still plan to attend church next week, or anything. But strange things are happening. People start trying to push me or grab me. The area is turning into a cross between a sort of an old age home and an apartment complex, though the entire neighborhood I am walking through is nothing but single family homes. But somehow I find myself in the apartment complexes behind the church, instead of in the neighborhood I was walking through. [The apartment complexes that aren't there in real life, but have been in lots of dreams.]

In past dreams these apartment complexes have had fun things and nightmare-style things happen in them. In this dream, they are bad things. I find myself arguing religion and politics with people, while going through unpleasant chase bits that seem to go on forever (though I think they really are pretty short.) At one point I am being grabbed an restrained by nurses because they don't agree with my principles, but soon they are turning into attractive-but-old-fashioned school teachers who have a sort of Stepford Wives sort of vibe to them.

I burst out of one apartment complex into a sort of hilly area, where I find myself trying to cross the hills while avoiding dangerous flaming horses. Since they are in groups of four, they just might be the four horses of the apocalypse. Strange and spooky. At first I try to hide from them, but then I find four of them right next to me in a wide open space, so all I can do is ignore them and hope they ignore me, or if they don't, hope I'm powerful enough to survive them.

The entire time, both political and spiritual arguments continue to go on in my head. I manage to get out of the hills and into another of the apartment complexes, but I'm still being chased by the old-fashioned brunettes, who are trying to wrestle me to the ground and restrain me. I don't understand why I find myself saying it, since it still seems to me that he was the nut, and the one in the wrong, but I suddenly speak out loud and say "Fine! I'll apologize to the assistant pastor."

A gap appears in the brick-wall corridor I am in, and I stumble into the lot of the construction supply company directly behind the church, free from all the people chasing me. "On Sunday, after church," I mutter to myself. 50 pound bags of cement start dropping on me. "OK, OK, right now." The cement stops dropping on me, and I claim over the brick wall into the church parking lot.

I approach one of the elders of the church and ask where the assistant pastor is, and he says he left about 15 minutes ago. He looks at me and says something like "You don't look like a process server, but I'm still not going to tell you where he lives or give you his phone number." I end up back in the same room, waiting (perhaps for a day or two) until the assistant pastor shows up again. "Really, God?!?" I kind of announce to the sky.

"Hey Dude! Don't disrespect the Lord!" I find a slightly angry hippie kind of shushing me. "Yeah? Let me tell you a story!" And I proceed to relate the entire dream to him, while he looks more and more flabbergasted as I go on. There are several others here, who also look more and more shocked. As I finish my tale, I look at them, all staring at me in amazement, and ask "Don't tell me the same thing happened to all of you?"

"Oh no, man," the hippie says. "Nothing like that happened to me. Not in the specifics. But in the overall, yeah, man. We're all here to apologize to the assistant pastor because we wouldn't listen to him, man! It's weird!"

01-06-2013 -- [What fragments I had earlier in the night didn't seem worth remembering, but I know there was something about mom being around, and dad being dead, stuff at the Church of the Nazarene, and something about Anne and I being friendly with each other. I don't get why she is in my dreams so much, recently. I haven't seen her in years, haven't thought about her except in my dreams, and have no desire to have anything to do with her anymore. But the last few nights she keeps popping into my dreams.]

I find myself at college, sitting for finals on two classes that I have never once attended through the year. This is my last chance to do something which might be able to salvage my grades. I think one class is a civics class, and the other may be a math class.

Anyway, for the Civics final, I have to write a paper on what I would consider the perfect form of government, if money were no issue. I know what my beliefs are on government, and I think this ought to be easy, but every time I am about to write something, I think of more things to consider.

I am planning on writing something in favor of a Rand-ist, Objectivism pro-business government and system, which is what I believe in, both in my dreams, and in real life, but I also keep coming back to the issue of big corporations with CEOs who make billions while they try to pay their workers minimum wage (or less), and while the system allows this, it still isn't right.

[This could lead to a big argument on how no government system could ever work, because people quite simply suck! Communism is a good system in theory but can't work in practice because of human nature. Some are going to take charge and abuse the system while making others do all the work. Capitalism is the best system, but still the exact same thing happens. Our current liberal system with all the welfare and things fails for the same reasons, and in the same way as communism. All systems fail, and for the same reasons. Humans suck! So ends the soap box.]

By this time, three fourths of the testing period is over, and I still haven't written anything, and the teacher is trying to talk me into just giving up, taking an F for the class, and leaving. But I am still convinced I can write something good enough to salvage my grade. Meanwhile, time keeps passing, and I think I am now in the middle of the testing period for the second class, still trying to write the paper for the first class.

In some odd was that makes no sense, I soon find myself picking up and throwing down either a bust, or a broken bit of statue, again and again. I am kind of doing weight lifting with it, and must have been doing so for a while, because I have really built up my strength and stamina, and have some pretty serious muscles.

Then I find myself in what seems to be a bar, but I am with the choir, and they are doing a concert. I haven't been around for rehearsals, and am not a part of it, but as they start singing, I find it is all Gaither songs, and I can't help but sing along. We're now several songs in, and one has just finished, and somebody is on a bar stool next to me. I think it is Laura S., and she leans to me and very nastily tells me to either quit singing, or get out! Even though I've been singing great because I know all the Gaither songs perfectly. [Don't think I have ever exchanged a cross word with her, no idea where this dream bit came from.]

Without a word, I bend to pick up my backpack, and start to leave. She calls after me that Carl has things to do, so can't give me a ride home, and something about being ready on time on Sunday if I want a ride to church? She didn't think so! And I really don't have a clue why she is upset with me, but I must not have a car, currently, from all she is saying.

I walk out of the church, and it turns out to be the church in Buena Park, and I start to walk home. It's only a couple of miles, not all that far. I pass through Servant's Heart, where they are talking about one of the people now constantly visiting or living at Rosemary's (the tall guy with curly black hair) and they are saying something about how they gave him some money and he went out and got sloshed on it ... never again money for him.

By this point, I have walked through the flower neighborhood down to Dale, and have reached La Palma, and am preparing to jaywalk across to Food King, but the traffic is really heavy. Right about when I am going to bolt across, a car pulls up. It has nothing to do with me, but since I know the person, I stop and say hi. It is Tracey M (also from choir) who is either picking up or dropping off somebody.

Soon I make it across the street, and soon make it home to the Hickory house, where I head into the house and move to my first bedroom, where I plan to go to sleep. I am remembering just a tiny bit about whatever the earlier bit here at the Hickory house was about, and how at least dad wasn't alive in the dream, so it is catching up with reality. Meanwhile, there is a cat in my room, and I am trying to pet it, but it seems to be a stray, so it is skittish, probably has fleas, and it isn't one I know.

[When my dad died, I kept having weird dreams that he came back to help me with my mom's death. Once mom died too, then either parent might show up in my dreams, dead, alive, as a ghost, as having faked their own death, or back in time, before they died, so none of the above applied. Oddly, by the end of this dream I was a little kid, so they would have both been alive, yet I was glad my dreams were catching up enough to remember dad was dead.]

11-07-2012 -- I am walking up Crescent, just before Dale, on the side of the street where the church is located. Oddly, as I walk along, I am pulling the metal core from a wire that is still strung up on the poles [like Don DuFour used to do] and it seems to have gotten caught or tangled on a transformer or something. I'm kind of shaking it to get it to come loose while trying not to electrocute myself.

For some reason, Petey the Clown is walking with me, and is accusing me of being selfish or a bad friend or something. I am just about to cross the street and start walking down Hickory, when some guy from the last house on the block comes out and also starts berating me. He is angry because I am removing the core of this wire, and is afraid somebody will lose power because of it or something. Oddly, he looks like the strongman character from La Nouba [Cirque du Soleil show at Disney World, I just saw a video of it for the first time two days ago.]

As I approach my house, he seems to be kind of stripping my bones out of my fingers as punishment. It doesn't hurt as he does it, oddly enough, but a few seconds later it starts to sting really badly. Then when I reach my house, he starts to remove the screen from the windows on my car, and I am really starting to get ticked off. I start cursing him rather severely, and tell him to stop hurting me and my car, and the generic neighborhood kids are very impressed because he is an adult and I am a little kid like them.

I head toward the front door, planning to enter the house, and just suddenly find myself back on Crescent, across Magnolia from Peter Marshall, walking toward the school. Just as I step into the street I am kind of attacked by a large crate with eye holes that I know contains the strong man character, and has my name on it. He gets loaded on a truck or something, however, and is gone for a bit. I am also being attacked by a very La Nouba-looking clown who has no hair and a solid orange face.

The only way I can stop this clown is to wrap my arms around her and pin her arms to her side, and as I grapple with her I realize it is Petey in different make-up, and she thinks I don't know her well enough to recognize her, but I do. She is still pinned in my arms and I carry her into the office at Peter Marshall and then set her down. The other office workers start celebrating her birthday, and I walk off, leaving her thinking I may not be as bad a friend as she thought. [Petey's real life persona does work in a school, but not a grade school, and not in California.]

I start to head home again. Maybe I'll make it there this time. I am walking through a crowd of several girls who seem to be talking about Halloween costumes and/or playing Bloody Mary. Between the school and La Reina (a very short block) there are five gas stations that I can remember mystery shopping at other times, though today I am not doing any shops. By this time the strongman character has gotten free of his crate and is bugging me again as I walk down the street.

As I turn on to Hickory Drive, I'm muttering about killing the strongman character, and I suddenly find myself running into a bunch of older politicians (Reagan, Nixon, perhaps Margaret Thatcher), and they reveal the rasping strongman is actually some sort of spy or agent, and I am expected to ignore all of his harassment because of his diplomatic mission to the Middle East. I'm thinking his mission is no excuse for his being an idiot.

I actually manage to enter the house this time, and I find myself sorting through a lot of mail in my name. Mom is there and is being a bit of a pest, but I am trying to ignore her. I enter my second bedroom through the kitchen door, and I find the room is huge. In real life it was probably about ten feet by fifteen, but here is is more like 20 x 30. I find that mom has gone against my wishes and has rearranged my room, forming a sort of wall of bookcases surrounding my bed in the upper right corner of the room, leaving the other 3/4 of the room mostly empty. [Actually I never had a problem with my mom rearranging my room against my wishes, but it is something my current landlord is kind of threatening to do.]

I am so angry about the rearrangement, I am about to tell mom off and move out, except I am out of work, broke, and worry I won't be able to find anywhere else to go. Then I wake up.

Also a brief fragment somewhere in the night where I am trying to get some sort of computer layout job and am talking about being asked to do photo essays on the Hornet newspaper overnight to fill in pages that others didn't bother doing, back in my college days.

09-21-2012 -- VERY strange dream. I'm having some political discussions with some liberal friends right before bed, who I strongly disagree with, then I go to sleep. I suddenly find myself waking to a very Mindwarp^* situation. There is a loud, commanding voice giving me orders in my dark, empty room (in the Hickory house). I look around the room carefully, and eventually find some sort of squak box / monitoring device has been installed on the blinds in my room, while I slept.

This voice is promoting a very socialist agenda, and threatening me with what will be done to me if I don't follow it's orders. It gives lots of orders, but most I can't remember. The one I can remember is that I was to hold myself back because my sister is not as talented as I am, and I am not allowed to do better than her. [Has nothing to do with my real life sister.]

As this this is going on, there is a really weird game show on the TV in my room. It is a game that involves people trying to solve charades by other people that they can neither see nor hear, which makes it really tough. At the moment, Wink Martindale is the contestant, who is trying to solve charades being performed by ... Wink Martindale?!? Somehow they have moved him in time so he is playing against himself!

I approach the box, rip it off the blinds, and start to break it apart, and it threatens me ever more fiercely, ordering me not to separate the broken pieces, though I am obviously going to do so. Finally, it produces a line of tiny glowing hieroglyphics that look like human figures. I have to figure out the meaning, but they are too tiny, there is no way to decode them.

Somehow throughout this entire thing I have not been myself, but KB. They have come and taken me away to prison because I didn't obey the voice, and they have thrown me into a very large bathroom with four or five big nude criminals, then turned the lights out. Obviously a scary situation. I rush to the door, still nude, and open it so there is some light to see by.

I find myself in a locker room, and start opening lockers until I find one with my clothes in it, and start dressing as quickly as possible, hoping to get out of here before anything more happens to me. Semi-short, but intense dream.


^*[Five or six years ago I had a very strange real-life situation happen. Kind of scared me for an evening. Had no idea what was going on. Had been renting a room from some people for just a couple of months. This room was lined with shelves near the ceiling that had tons of kid toys on them. One night I went to bed, and was fast asleep when I woke to hear this loud, deep voice seeming to come from nowhere, saying something along the lines of "Prepare for Mind Warp!"

I was suddenly wide awake in my room, quite scared by this mystery voice, not sure if I was awake, asleep, or insane. I'd turned the light on, there was nobody in the room. The TV was off. I had no radio. Nothing!

I sat there hyperventilating for a minute or two, turned the light off, and tried to go back to sleep, when the same voice returned again, saying something about mindwarp over or something. (It's been several years, I no longer remember the closing phrase nearly as well.)

Terribly frightening. Got up the next morning and searched the room carefully, and found a battery-powered game called Mind Warp that spoke when activated. Whatever it was, exactly, it was a toy I'd never heard of, and therefore very frightening to suddenly hear in the middle of the night. That toy was quickly relocated out of my room.

Anyway, that was the Mind Warp story referenced in the dream.]

08-22-2012 -- At school? Convention? Work? I'm just not sure. It's kind of a muddle. I stop by the office to check on something, and they're giving me paperwork for all the students who are somehow different in some way that is related to me. Have no idea how, that part doesn't stick.

Anyway, Tammy from Courier Express is working in the office, and she is the one who has been setting this stuff aside for me, but somebody new has just taken over, and I fear they may object. They don't seem to, though. Meanwhile, more records are being printed out for me, but they are out of paper, and I am trying to find some more to keep things going smoothly. Isn't working very well.

I am heading into a hall where we are going to watch some sort of movie, and as I am entering, I run into Carolyn wearing Petey's costume, but not the make-up. I'm hoping I haven't offended her by coming to this movie without here. There are a bunch of other clowns here, too (also in costume, but not make-up) which is why I wonder if it is a convention. The movie turns into some sort of show, and for just a minute or two it turns very political. I think Rush Limbaugh is there, and perhaps Mitt Romney. But the politics vanish very quickly, thankfully.

Soon I exit that building, and soon find myself entering a stadium-like seating area that I've visited in a bunch of dreams. There are people trying to get us seated and organized before whatever we are here for is ready to begin. One of these is an attractive brunette who I am thinking of getting together with, but Steve Koffroth gets there first. Darn!

[Overall, this was a huge, involved dream, but I just couldn't manage to remember much in the way of details, so it makes a pretty small dream post.]