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    maboroshi

    1. j bumblebee dies; plane crash; flight and cave talk; west valley and waitress

      by , 06-16-2011 at 12:39 PM
      Good morning, everybody.

      Dream #1

      I was in a camper trailer, one of the kinds that hitch to the back of a pickup truck. It was parked somewhere in the woods. The door was open. I stood in the doorway. My sister stood just outside it.

      My sister told me that "J Bieb" or "J Bumblebee" had died. He was some kind of famous figure, but I didn't know very much about him. My sister kind of took a mildly sarcastic tone with me, as if to say, "I know you couldn't care less." It was like she was accusing me of not caring about our family because I wasn't so emotionally stricken by this celebrity's death.

      I was then in some other place. A young, kind of attractive girl told me that a celebrity named J Bieb had died. She might even have said something like, "Everybody remembers where they were on the day J Bieb died."

      I didn't know anything about this celebrity. But suddenly I remembered that my sister had told me about either this celebrity or a celebrity with a very similar name.

      So, to imptess the girl, I blurted out, "Oh, yeah! My sister had said something about that! I think it was back... My sister and my family had come to visit me. They'd rented a camper."

      Realizing I would have made my family sound like they had a lot of money for renting a camper, I said, "Well, not one of the big campers. Just one of the small ones, you know, that..."

      I may have been making hand motions to illustrate how the small camper worked.

      Dream #2

      I was with my friend H on an airplane. We lifted off. It was a cloudy day. Everything seemed fine. But just as we ascended into the lower layer of clouds, the plane sped up really quickly. That seemed really abnormal. We suddenly slumped downward. The plane was headed back toward the ground. It was obvious that something was wrong.

      I could see as if I were looking through the pilot's window, even though I was still with H in the normal passenger area. The pilot got us turned around. The engines were dead. But the pilot was trying to get us back to the runway. We were kind of gliding, but we were also descending really quickly. I knew it would be a bad landing.

      The plane approached the runway. It hit the tarmac pretty violently, possibly smashing theunderside of the plane. But nothing exploded.

      I could hear or imagine some kind of news announcement talking about the plane crash. My vision was now outside and behind the plane. I was still alive. But I didn't know about H. I could still see from inside the plane, but not very well. Everything was shaking around.

      Then the plane twisted over onto its left side. I could see it as if I were outside and behind the plane and see and feel it as if I were inside the plane. At this point, the plane came to a stop.

      Dream #3

      I was on a plane with a woman like my mother, although the woman was not more than a few years older than I. The plane had landed, and people were all getting off. I might, however, actually have been staying on the plane, as if I had just stayed on in order to help my mother get situated.

      At some point, my mother became a kind of tall, thin woman, like my old friend AL.

      Now a young woman with a kind of hip look, possibly with maroon-dyed hair, came into the plane and sat down. She may even have buckled the seat belt. But she was really here to meet with my mother/friend and visit places in this area with my friend.

      The young woman was a lesbian, and I got the feeling that she was going to try to seduce my friend. I really didn't mind. She was only my friend. I wasn't in love with her.

      So I tried to give some advice to the young woman about how to have a good time in this area. It was partly because I felt bad that I wasn't staying here. It was some kind of tough place to be, and my not staying kind of implied that I wasn't tough. But I'd been here before, and I wanted to prove it. So I started to give the girl advice.

      I said, "You look like you're dressed for the summer right now. But when you go down into the caves, make sure you bring a sweater. Because it gets cold when the wind whips through the tunnels. It's like --" and I made some kind of blowing, whistling sound.

      The young woman had gotten bored about halfway through what I was saying. Finally she unbuckled herself and stood up. She sulkily walked past me and said, "I already know that stuff."

      Dream #4

      I and a group of people, probably my family, stood up from dinner at a restaurant. A family at another table stood up at the same time as we did. My mother may have started up a little exchange between our group and the other group, based on some interesting similarity between us. Both groups were laughing and cheerful, but I felt like things could turn stressful pretty quickly.

      The tables we were sitting at were in a basement area, and we had to head up some stairs to get to the first floor dining area and exit. I may either have been heading for the stairs or some place like a coat closet or coat check. My family was headed in the other direction.

      I was kind of happy to be splitting from the two groups and the almost tense situation. But my mom then called out to a young boy in the group, "You know that ----- (she said my name) lived in Colorado, too." This was supposed to give me something in common with the boy, who was getting ready to go do something in Colorado.

      I knew that now I'd be obliged to talk to the boy. He was tall, white, pale, with kind of shaggy hair, not quite down to his shoulders. He wore a t-shirt and a hooded sweatshirt. He seemed cool. But he seemed about as inconvenienced by having to talk to me as I felt for having to talk to him.

      We walked in the direction of my family. We headed up the steps. I asked the boy where he'd grown up. He said, "In the West V-----"

      We were walking through some kind of crowded space with wood walls. There were a lot of people, and the place was full of noise, so I hadn't quite heard what the boy had said. So I mistook it for "West Village."

      I said, "Oh, you grew up in New York?"

      The boy said, "No. I said the West Valley." He seemed annoyed at my mistake. So I made some kind of dumb joke. I became really sheepish. As the boy, kind of ignoring me, walked away and back toward his group (we were all in the ground floor dining area), I kept calling out to him with this weird joke.

      I suddenly stopped myself, thinking, Geez. The way I'm going at this guy, you'd think I had a crush on him.

      So I went and sat at a table where my mom was sitting. The boy's mom was also sitting there. She was white, kind of thin, with short, blonde hair. She'd overheard my weird joke to the boy. She said, "Yeah, a lot of people don't know where the West Valley is. But it's basically all the most populous regions in Kentucky." She said this with a kind of mock-flair that made me realize she thought the area was pretty dumpy.

      I wanted to respond with a joke like, "Right, all the great suburbs of -----." I wanted to say a really big town in Kentucky. But all I could think of was Louisville. And I didn't think that was good enough.

      A waitress came up to the table from my left. A man had been calling after her. He'd been trying to joke with her, trying to flirt with her. He'd struck me as a bit of an old creep. I was afraid he'd pursue the waitress to our table and start making trouble for us.

      The waitress was wearing some kind of one-piece shorts outfit with a gently colorful floral print and made out of a satiny material. She had tan skin and pale brown hair. She was incredibly sexy, but she didn't strike me as a waitress.

      The waitress gave me some eye and body signals to let me know she was attracted to me. She then said, "Maybe you should give me your card or your contact information, so we can keep in touch."

      I said, "I don't have a card, but I can give you my email address." I shifted in my seat and leaned back a bit, as if I were going to pull a card out of my wallet. I felt embarrassed that I didn't have any business cards. I asked the woman, "Can you give me a napkin?"

      The woman sat down in the chair across from me. She picked up a napkin. There were drawings along the top of the napkin. I had apparently been looking at them before. They were done in black, felt-tip pen. They had struck me, as I'd seen them, as some kind of mystical hieroglyphics.

      But the woman, looking at them, laughed. I asked her why. She directed me through each drawing, from left to right. It showed stick figures, in frame-like settings, like in a comic strip. One frame showed a boy chasing a girl. Another frame showed the boy and girl together in bed. Another frame showed the boy and girl doing some kind of really nasty sex position.

      I said, "Well, I hadn't seen that at all! Must've been cause I was reading it the Japanese way." This meant from right to left, instead of from left to right. Okay...

      I suddenly realized that this drawing was made as a kind of love letter to the girl. I was scared. I thought she'd think I'd written this to her. But then I realized that the creepy guy had actually made this drawing for the waitress.

      There was another drawing below the first drawing. The first frame showed a cabin in a snowstorm. The second image showed a close-up of some structure in the snowstorm. Then there were a couple of images of an American flag waving in the wind.

      Below each frame there were captions. The first captions were something like, "A snowstorm, loneliness, the comfort of a warm home." The next to last caption was, "Destroy the commandos." The final caption was, "America the brave."

      I realized that this was some kind of mass-marketed (how?) advertisement for how America should continue the war on terror. For some reason I felt like this was directed against me. I also thought that, since I thought the drawing was kind of silly, that I'd somehow be targeted by the government as unpatriotic.