Batch

A collection of fragments I can't remember in enough detail to get their own topic, but with some interesting parts I don't want to just forget.

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07-23-2017 -- Again, a bit of a shorter one. Another Harry Potter dream, taking place in a sort of a cross between a school, and a mall, I think. Something evil is pursuing us, and we're trying to find a way to defend and protect ourselves, and Hermione has come up with some sort of gadget that can help keep us safe, but it needs to be made with a fairly good-sized gem. Malfoy has been trying to become a better person, though he is still a bit annoying, but Hermione is telling him about the new devices to help keep us safe, anyway. When she mentions needing the gems to make them, he pulls out a bag with his D&D dice, and it turns out a couple of the larger dice were lost, and he had replaced them with large, multi-faceted gemstones, so he is able to give her a couple more to make more of the things. There was a lot more to this, originally, but it was very hard to remember, and faded especially quickly.

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07-25-2017 -- Can't remember all that much of this, but I am Harry Potter, and am on some kind of camping trip in the woods, and am trying to sleep in a sort of a camp bed, but I find that I am in some kind of a tree, and there is a big, violent gorilla who is trying to reach me and attack me. I am trying to stay out of his way, but he is fast, agile, and can climb well. I keep trying to get out of his reach, and he eventually does something that launches us both off the side of a cliff. He falls to his death, or at least serious injury, while I somehow manage to save myself with some sort of hover charm or something, then am explaining the whole situation to Tonks while listening to old music. Strange.

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08-19-2017 -- Anything earlier is gone. Waiting for a bus near Knott's Berry Farm. Kind of flirting with a girl who might, just might, be Amy F. And accidentally catch my phone between my body and something solid, and manage to more or less snap it in half, longways, and I am really disgusted with myself about it. Meanwhile, somebody sick has come along, and has their doctor along with them, and is giving them a check-up at the bus stop, and I had heard something about this and tried to make arrangements, so the doctor is willing to see me and prescribe something for my HBP, and in the aftermath of that, I manage to miss two buses by being in just the wrong place at the wrong time.

Flash forward, and it is now a week later. I am out traveling with mom, and we are at the same bus stop, and I am hoping to see the doctor again, but I don't know if he travels this route weekly or only once a month or what. A doctor is passing through, but it turns out he is not here to do medicine, but just on a walk or something. Then 'my' doctor comes through and he is checking on me briefly, and I decide I want to tell him the conversation that looks like gibberish, until you know the secret. MR Ducks, MR Nott, OSAR CM Wangs? OILB MR Ducks. {'Em are ducks. 'Em are not. Oh yes they are ... see 'em wings? Oh I'll be ... 'em are ducks.) But he wanders off for a minute and before he can get back, the bus comes (on the wrong side of the street.) I catch it and go one stop, then decide to go off since the Doctor still hasn't come back yet, but as I get off I don't see mom and don't know if she got off, so I get back on the bus, and find her standing by the bus driver, talking to him, so I guess I am missing the doctor.

The next thing I know, I've gotten off the bus somewhere else. There is no sign of mom, and I think I am having a short conversation with Sheila Smith, which has her commenting something on how she can likely answer a few questions, and I say sure, as long as they aren't on the subject of, say, Muslim dating rituals or something, and she seems hesitant, and I am considering making a statement about how I thought it was Anne who was the cast member with a Muslim history (something from another dream that wasn't written down, nor anything except that one bit remembered) as she walks into the Peter Marshall cafeteria for a rehearsal, and I wait to catch another bus. Weird.

06-17-2017 -- Am on a camping trip somewhere, no idea who with, where, or why. Just somewhere out in the wild, and somebody is arguing with me about how much I have or haven't been a part of things. They don't think I've been around for most of the stuff that day, but I have memories of doing the day's activities, so I think they're nuts. But about that time, the single unit parking lot tram type of vehicle leading off for the latest activity is starting to drive off, so I'm running along side, trying to pull myself aboard.

The next thing I know, I find myself at a huge stadium, where they are getting ready to host one of the major WWE events (probably Great American Bash). Somebody may have announced it, or I may just know, but I think we're in Baltimore. I don't have a ticket, can't afford one, and probably wouldn't be able to get past security to get into the actual seating area, but nobody does a think about my simply wandering around. The ring is positioned on a large stage very like the one at Videopolis, which means there are curtains around it, and it is slightly raised ... it's like watching a wrestling event at Videopolis, and for a temporary place to sit, I walk up to the edge of the stage and pull myself up on it, sitting right beside the curtain, where I'm mostly out of sight of the crowd (people looking closely might spot my legs dangling at the end of the stage.)

There's another person here, an older teen, much like I suspect I am in this dream, who looks a little wild, has very curly hair, and may actually be one of the WWE wrestlers, like Santana or something like that. He settles down on the stage like I am, and we just watch as the wrestlers come and go and wander around. Actually, don't see any wrestling going on. More like people are being introduced and things. Some of the wrestlers are being called up on stage, and as they approach and wait their turns, we get to meet a couple of them. I think I kind of wave to a couple of big names in passing, and at one point Dean Malenko is standing right next to me, so I make a comment about enjoying his wrestling in WCW, and mentioning the whole Man of 1,000 Holds schtick, and he seems like a nice enough guy.

So we're sitting there for a while, when people start joining us, sitting on the edge of the stage, and soon four of us are lined up, HHH, then the other guy, then Stephanie, then me, all pressed fairly tightly together. Problem is, at this point I find I'm sitting there wearing only a bathrobe and my underwear, so I'm kind of holding the bathrobe closed because I do not want to either offend Stephanie, nor, if the cameras ever swing to catch Steph and HHH's reaction to anything, do I want to be broadcast with my underwear showing. I am thinking about mentioning to Stephanie that I met her here in Baltimore at another Great American Bash a few years ago (in another dream, though I think in that dream it was in Indiana instead of Maryland), but I decide not to draw attention to myself, since I don't belong here, and just feel uncomfortable pressed against Stephanie while holding my robe together.

Soon Vince has come around and joined us as well, but he gives me and the other guy a bit of a strange glance, and soon after the other guy has left. I'm still sitting there watching stuff, until Vince starts making comments under his breath about security and having people arrested, and I realize that unlike everybody else, he's not going to just ignore the guy who doesn't belong, but is just sitting quietly, and I understand that the curly haired guy 'got' this realization quicker than I did, and that's why he ran off. I stand up and wander backstage, hoping that I can avoid any security, but still nobody seems to care, and I'm thankful that Vince is willing to let me depart under my own steam. I wander around backstage for a while, passing other wrestlers, interviewers, and production people, while looking for a way out of the arena.

04-30-2017 -- Actually, I have no idea when this was dreamed. Had to be after the last one I wrote down, but it was several weeks ago. It was a very interesting dream that I certainly meant to write down while it was still fresh, but it never ended of happening, so now I'm jotting down what I can remember on the 29th of May, and assigning a (likely incorrect) date to list it by.

Somehow I'm on a cadet-style camping trip, but I'm Harry Potter, and the one in charge of the trip is Dumbledore. As might be expected, it is very strange, and actually kind of boring, so I decide to make things more interesting by grabbing a dead tree limb and trying to make myself a good broom. I actually manage to do a fairly good job of it, and am flying around, but Albus is upset that I might be seen. Thankfully, I've also got my invisibility cloak, which allows me to keep myself somewhat hidden.

So he's on my case, but it's the only thing we've found fun to do on the trip, so we continue to work on flying. Soon we're flying through the dream version of the Buena Park Mall, but whatever spell we've used to power the brooms have started to weaken, and I'm drifting to the ground, right where people are looking to try and catch me. Thankfully, Sirius is right there with another broom that he's made, so he tosses it to me, and I fly off again, and Sirius finds himself arguing with his harridan of a mother (who is alive and not a painting), even though I seemed to be getting along with her quite well.

There's a bit with me walking through Waldenbooks, while talking with Remus and Sirius about more broom options, and I end up wrapping a bit of cheese or something around the handle of my latest broom as a joke, figuring it wouldn't work, but when I try to fly with it, it shoots up into the air, sending off sparks like a major firework, blasting up into an arc, before coming down again, used up very quickly, but providing an amazing pyrotechnic show, and I decide it is an amazingly cool effect that I will have to work with some more.

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!"