false awakening

Teacher Comments

Over SSH, I open up the log file of my grading hours to find that the professor has edited it to leave me a message. I thought only I had permission to modify it. Hmmm. Oh well.

Enough

During a break in the lecture, I've been talking with a classmate about how to prove the next major proposition. He thinks he has an idea, so he tells the professor. The professor (who's only about 30 and has a carefree attitude) tells him he should go up to the board and present the proof to the class. My classmate is somewhat taken aback at this unusual request, but he obeys. Of course, he doesn't completely understand his proof (he only knew the general outlines), so a minute later he runs into a problem and his presentation stumbles to a halt. The professor steps in to say that it's a good start, and also, "That's probably enough for today. We'll finish the proof next time." I'm confused again, because we still have a few minutes left in class--plus it's weird that he ended the lecture with a rough student presentation. It seems to me that his carefree attitude doesn't lend itself well to being a good teacher.

Feral Fox

I get out of the car to see a mangy fox running around our driveway. I expect it to run away from me, but it charges! I kick at it in an attempt to avoid getting bitten. Who knows what diseases it might have. It dodges my foot and runs a few yards away, but I'm not sure if I've scared it off for good yet.

Clock Lag

I wake up and roll over in bed to check the time. I scribble some short notes in my dream journal, then check the time again to record when I woke up. To my surprise, the time seems to have jumped forward by five minutes. I check my cell phone's other two clocks. [My phone has three alarms, which in the dream I must have confused with separate timekeeping devices.] First one, then the other, ticks over from one minute to another minute five minutes later. It must be a kind of lag induced by having been in idle mode all night. Soon I wake up for real. [The actual time was about a half-hour earlier than the time in the dream.]

Frags:

• "faster way home"

Meanwhile, in High School (6:59)

I'm sitting at a table in a room filled with tables, working on an assignment, when I see someone out of the corner of my eye. It's my mom, sitting at another table, trying to catch my attention by waving something. Exasperated, I acknowledge her, but she wants to start a full blown conversation. I pack up my things and say, apologetically, that "I just can't right now." Predictably, Mom gets furious. I walk over to her table (Dad's there too) and try to explain that I'm old enough now that she can't expect me to share every detail of my life with her. My voice sounds like maybe I'm about to start crying. Nothing doing, though. Looks like I'll have to pack my own lunch and find my own way to school, today.

I go back downstairs and check the time. It's later than I thought! Forget packing a lunch, I'll barely have time to shower and get dressed. I also think I should do my laundry, but when I look into the basket, I realize that I have more clean clothes than I thought. No need to bother, then. But later, when I actually go to choose an outfit, I have trouble finding clean shorts. I'll have to do my laundry tomorrow, which will be harder since it's a weekday and I'll be busy.

Dad drives me to school. I'm sitting all the way in the back of the car, and I'm surprised to see some orange traffic cones passing by my window. Some road work near the left turn just before the high school's parking lot. Looks like Dad's doing what he's supposed to be doing.

I take a seat in the classroom. I've decided that while I'm back home, I may as well sit in on some Spanish classes at my old high school to get in some extra practice. The teacher, a dark-haired man, begins the class by introducing himself and explaining about the course textbooks. Apparently he wrote one of them--part of a series of textbooks on a variety of subjects, all published in the same format but written by various guest authors. At one point, the teacher switches to English for a bit. His accent is kind of cute. Then we go around the class and introduce ourselves. I don't know anyone there, obviously. When it comes to be my turn, I explain that I'm actually a college student. There's something of a commotion from another student in the class, and I wonder if maybe he's doing the same thing as I am and I should have recognized him? That would be embarrassing.

At one point, the teacher's been talking about something, and he asks the class which of us consider ourselves to be "a member of that crowd?" I'm one of the few who raises a hand. A few minutes later, I realize that he might have been asking which of us have had sex, but with so much circumlocution that I didn't realize it at the time. Oops. Well, if so, I'm sorry for misrepresenting myself, but there's not much I can do about it now. Besides, I'm in college, they'll have expected it of me, anyway.

The teacher starts a presentation, and everyone puts away their drinks. Except one is still on the table, and one of the students accidentally knocks it over, spilling soda pop everywhere. The teacher interrupts his lecture to go find cleaning supplies, and I try to help out by mopping up some with a napkin. I hope that my helpfulness is a mark of being more mature than the majority of students in the classroom. But the teacher holds out his hand to throw away the napkin for me, and I let him take it, even though it sort of undermines what I was doing. Anyway, the napkin wasn't very absorbent, so now there's pop on my hands. I need to find a sink. I find one in the hall only a few feet away from the classroom.

A lot of the students are handing out out here until the presentation starts again. I look around and see an office whose name plaque carries a very strange title. I wonder if high schools can hire people to do things as strange as that because they're government-funded. Someone walks past me and into the office, and I wonder. I also talk to one of the students outside. They tell me they wanted to go to the big concert today, because it featured a big presentation about Mormonism. I had heard about the concert, but I didn't know it was about Mormonism, and now I'm kind of sad I missed it, too. [IRL: The concert is this afternoon, and it has nothing to do with Mormonism.]

When we go back into the classroom, there's a stage at one end, complete with curtains and a podium. A man at the podium tells us that as a surprise, Mitt Romney has come with his campaign team to give a presentation. After this introduction, a few people walk out on stage. I'm not sure which one is Romney [although IRL obvs I know what he looks like], and the introduction kind of trailed off, so it's not surprising that the applause is slow to start. It's also very quiet, and peters out quickly. One of the campaign people says "Wow," loudly and sarcastically. Well, I'm not sure what Romney expected. We're mostly Democrats here at my university.

They launch into the presentation, which is an animated, rhetorical speech delivered while the campaigners circle and crisscross the room, making sure to invite each audience member personally to agree with what they're saying. It makes me feel a bit uncomfortable. Somewhere, I've found a pillow, and I clutch it to my stomach like it's some kind of security blanket. I stare at the floor, only half listening. I feel like I've read this argument before, somewhere, anyway. Something about how the Democrats are trying to convince you not to vote Republican because of what the Republicans /won't/ do, but when election day comes, you need to vote based on what /will/ happen. And so on. One of the campaigners notices my aloofness, so he gets up in my face and tries to engage me by giving me a manly punch on the shoulder. I look at him expressionlessly and say in a carefully controlled voice, "Please don't do that again." The man puts on a mock-surprised face and looks around at people nearby as if to invite them to start bullying me, but in the end he just leaves.

From behind, a woman crooks an elbow around my neck and good-naturedly shakes me a bit. Addressing herself to someone I can't see, she asks, "Is this called 'egging?'" (as in, "egging someone on"). Ah, so she's playfully imitating the campaigner. The person says yes, it is, so she laughs and releases her hold on my neck. Pressing herself against my side, she murmurs, "There's someone touching you right now, and you don't seem to mind." Bemused, I try to think of a socially proper way to respond that it's okay because she's a woman. But before I can, she lets go of me, and I can finally turn to get a good look at her. To my delight, I definitely recognize her from somewhere. While I'm snapping my fingers and trying to place where that was, she just introduces herself again as [XXXX]. Surprised, I tell her I remember her as a campaign assistant for [XXXX]. She laughs and says no, then dances off to the other side of the room with another girl. I'm reminded of the friendship between Meekakitty and Nanalew. Suddenly, the dream ends, and I wake up. For a moment, I think that it's only been about two and a half hours since I fell asleep. But that must have been a FA, because it was more like six and a half.

Supermarket (8:15) (LUCID)

I'm in a supermarket, and at some level I'm aware that this is a dream. As I walk through the crowded checkout lanes, I look closely at all of the faces that I pass. Each one is unique and distinctive and interesting, and I wonder whether they all come from people I passed on the street in waking life. I read somewhere on a forum that that's where they come from. The dream seems pretty stable, but I feel compelled to keep moving, or else it will fall apart. I walk up to a cashier and ask her for the credit card that a customer just gave to her. "Sure, one moment," she says, and then she hands me something, but it's not a credit card. I leave the checkout lanes and continue through the store. It crosses my mind that this counts as a lucid dream. Cool; I haven't had one of those in a while.

I decide to call Mom on my cell phone. I worry that maybe I'm actually sleep-calling her in waking life, too, so I try to think of conversation topics that wouldn't sound too bizarre. Meanwhile, I'm still walking quickly down one side of the store, looking around at everything. The store's wide entrance is coming up on my left. I can't think of anything else to talk about, and Mom seems more confused than anything, so I just say goodbye to her and hang up. I leave the store.

Somebody's angry at me for turning out into the road in front of him, but I'm sure I wouldn't have done it close enough that you would actually call it "cutting him off." I decide to play out the scenario to see what actually happened. I get in the car and start driving toward the hilltop road that passes near the supermarket's parking lot. Indeed, there's almost a solid line of cars coming that direction, with one little space in the middle that perhaps I could grab if I timed it right. But there's something strange about the road configuration that makes me think I wouldn't be able to accelerate quickly enough to avoid pissing someone off. Okay, better to avoid that.

I stop the car and get out. There's a mid-sized lake to the right of the road with a big yacht anchored near the shore. A bunch of sailors are walking around over there, presumably on shore leave. I start walking along the narrow path between the lake and the side of the supermarket, going over to see what's going on. But then one of the sailors starts walking along the path toward me, shouting something about me not being allowed to come this way. An irritating fellow, but only doing his job, I suppose.

I keep walking, but suddenly I need to poop. I remember how in the past this has always made me panic and wake up, only to find that I didn't have to use the bathroom at all. Well, I know better, now, so I'll just go to the bathroom in the dream. I squat in the middle of a grassy lawn and start doing my business. The sailor is still walking towards me and shouting, so I interrupt him to warn him that even though I've avoided behaving "beaverishly," if he keeps it up, I may have to. (Apparently, in this situation, "behaving beaverishly" means that I'll strip totally naked just to annoy him even more.) Going to the bathroom is taking a long time. Some of the sailors are running close nearby. I hope for their sake that they don't accidentally step in any of the poop. The sailor still won't leave me alone, so I carry out my threat by pulling my T-shirt over my head. This makes my vision go completely black. Oh, darn.

I wake up to a confusion of covers. After a moment, I figure out that somehow I've come into a squatting position. Uh oh. Looking down, I see that my worst fears have come true--there's quite a bit of poop on my covers. Despairingly, I try to wrap up some of it using the sheets, but it's not enough. This will be hard to deal with. Then it occurs to me that there's something distinctly nightmarish about this situation, and I tell myself exasperatedly, "Come on, wake up for real." And I do. [No, I never did have to go to the bathroom. Why my dreams always do this to me, I don't know.]

Pop Quiz (9:42) (LUCID)

A smart math major I know is pacing the front of a classroom. He's quizzing me about details from my previous dreams tonight. I know I definitely missed a few when I wrote them in my dream journal, so this will be a perfect opportunity to recover them--my unconscious itself is telling me what they were! He mentions something about a homework assignment, and a few different people named Erik. [Ironically, I can't remember the details of these details.] It occurs to me to wonder if he's even telling the truth. I have no recollection of the events of which he speaks, so he could easily be inventing them, and I'd never know. Still, I wake up and write them in my dream journal. Only, it was a FA, and when I actually wake up, I can't really remember them any more.

[I've decided to start including some timestamps: when I got in bed, when I got up, and when I recorded each dream.]

In bed from 11:18 to 9:05

Beware Lava 3:29

The eldest competitor first learned to channel a long time ago. An image of burning matchsticks appears. Then the matchsticks burn almost all the way to the point where the person holding the matchstick would get hurt, and the fire gets blown out. That's what happened to his ability. But he's still part of this competition. He's competing against two of his own students, both female. They start in separate, nearby rooms in a Minecraft world, underground. I'm playing as the teacher. He walks around the halls and sees that the doorways of the rooms of his students are blocked by collapsed ice. He's competing with them, yes, but he still feels like he should be nice to them. Back in his original room, he finds a back passageway that he can open using his ability to conjure fire. It leads into the room of one of the students. Then he shoots more fire, but he quickly realizes that it's getting out of control. The student in the room doesn't yet even know he's there, so he'd better warn her.

"Run!" he shouts. Without waiting to check that she does, he drops the wide bucket of water that he was holding. That water is an important resource, and he can't allow it to warm up. Heat is dangerous, here. I start trying to conjure some ice by first pressing 1 to select fire, then Enter to conjure a ball of fire in my hand, then 2 to switch to ice, then blowing on the ball of fire to freeze it, then throwing the ball of ice into a pile on the floor. All of these different buttons are tripping me up, and it's not going very quickly. Suddenly he notices that he forgot to freeze one fireball before throwing it on the floor. It's probably warming up all of the ice balls, making them completely useless. The air in the room feels very warm, and when he picks up the bucket of water, it's warm, too. The floor is especially warm, which probably means that there's lava rising below, melting the ice out from under his feet. It's time to get out of here. There's not even enough time to gather up what few supplies he has. He just runs--back into his original room and over to the far corner, then out with the pickaxe and start digging furiously. To where, he doesn't know. He has no supplies, so he's basically starting over.

An announcer starts speaking over the top of the video, something along the lines of, "Will he survive, alone, without resources, in the dangerous world into which he heads? Find out next time on 'Impossible Minecraft Campaigns!'" Meanwhile, the man is thinking that this was only the first of three episodes, and he's worse off than he was at the beginning--so it's unlikely he'll even survive the next one.

[This dream seems to be partially inspired by the dream incubation (?) I did before going to bed. I imagined myself in a forest, chopping down a tree, when I realize I'm dreaming and then start throwing fireballs everywhere, starting a forest fire. The heat was an important part of the scene, although it was supposed to be awesome, not terrifying, like it was in this dream. There was even a time where I imagined holding a fireball and then blowing on it to turn it into a ball of ice. So it seems like the dream incubation did something, although it was very indirect, and it didn't trigger lucidity.]

Group Hug 6:38

[I don't remember the main plot of this dream, just a side plot that I probably remembered due to its uncomfortable nature. My middle sister has always been trouble.]

Spoiler for Group Hug:

I'm watching TV in a room with a bunch of people. My middle sister is lying on a couch that's directly under the TV, facing away from it. I hear a moan from that direction, but it takes a couple of seconds to register that that was not a usual sound at all. I stare at my sister, wondering if she's dying from some wasting disease. I wonder if I should ask her if she's okay, even though that would disrupt the movie. Then I realize that the moan sounded almost sexual. I'm not sure. She's covered in a blanket, so she could be. . . . I avoid looking at her directly, but from where she's putting her hands and the disgusted sounds the rest of my family is making, it seems like she's probably masturbating.

Later, the main plot has taken the family driving in a car to another place. We get out and I start talking to one of several men standing outside in a group. It's an important conversation, and our discussion basically resolves the main plot. Towards the end, one of the other guys in the group starts muttering audibly to himself. I can't understand what he's saying, but it's distracting, and I realize, delightedly, that that's the point. It's a joke that when you mutter to yourself, you never know what kinds of conversation you might be interrupting. Or that no matter how important your conversation is, you might still get interrupted by a random muttering dude. Either way, it's funny. We all start laughing, and then, to my incredulous surprise, we go in for a group hug. We pretend like we're going to exclude the muttering guy, but then we let him in. All in good fun.

Later, all that's left is to wrap up a few loose ends. My middle sister came with us because she wanted Dad to buy something that removes semen from a uterus. Turns out there was a secret passage that comes up underneath that couch. One can reach it by going through the false back of a cabinet under the TV. So she had actually been having sex with some guy who came through that passage. We never saw him, but when the truth came out, we also found out that she's worried she's going to spill some semen out from the way it came in if she doesn't get some kind of tool to remove it in a controlled fashion. So now that the main plot is resolved, Dad got her some kind of wooden thingy that looks a bit like a spool that should apparently do the job. That ties things up nicely, so it's time to wake up.

I open my eyes into my dorm room and check the time, to see if I woke up in time for class. The clock says the time is 18:90. Converting from military time, I'm shocked to find that it's already evening. Wait a second, that kind of ridiculous lateness usually happens in dreams. And there aren't ninety minutes in an hour. Hah! Nice try. I manage to wake myself up successfully.

Candied Brazil Nuts 9:03

Dad and I park in the driveway and go into the house. A serial killer has been living in here, so we expect there will be a lot of bodies. And yes, there are. A lot of movie stars. There's a living movie star with us now, a young (black) one, and it's tragic to watch his face as he sees all of the bodies. He knew these people. It occurs to me that I'm paying attention to the fact that he's black, when really it shouldn't matter. So I stop thinking about it.

After tidying up a bit, Dad and I get back in the car to head to the picnic. Taylor Swift is on the radio: "We are never ever ever getting back together." Except it's not actually her song--it's a rap song that uses the same chorus. Man, that's what frustrates me about rap. They borrow melodies from classical music and from good pop songs and they just reuse them without adding anything.

We get to the picnic and find Mom. She came earlier than us. She tells us that she meant to clean up the killer's house herself, but she had other things to do first. She didn't mean to leave us with the job. I'm not cross with her about it, but she seems like she's in a bad mood. Then Dad gets mad at me because I forgot to bring the hot dogs. I meant to bring the hot dogs, and I even planned out exactly which hot dogs to bring, but I forgot. One of my sisters tries to defend me by explaining this, but Dad says it doesn't change the fact that I forgot. I suppose he's right. My alarm wakes me up.

Grappling Hook

I'm playing a James Bond video game on multiplayer. On my end it's two-person splitscreen, but there are four players in the game altogether. The person on the lower screen suddenly stops, and I freeze as well because I was screen-looking. But we're nowhere near each other, so I start moving again, hoping that he didn't notice. He's currently in a skirmish with the other two players.

I enter a warehouse. There's a metal cabinet in the back corner that looks worth investigating. I walk up to it, and eureka! Among other useful items, there are a couple of bazookas. I take them, then screen-look again. Accidentally, I swear! But this time the lower screen corresponds to one of the other two players, and both of them are running up behind me. I try to turn around and get them with the bazooka, but my character is moving really slowly. "What am I, encumbered, or something?!" I say in frustration. I've never heard of encumbrance in James Bond games. But that must be what it is--there was too much big stuff in that cabinet. I get off one rocket, and then the others start firing rockets as well. Damn. I get to the bottom of the metal ramp leading to the cabinet; the other two people are standing there, too. The range is really too close to be using rocket launchers, but I shoot again, anyway. And I die. Grr.

I respawn on a lower level of the map, near a raised highway. I decide to try out my grappling hook. There's a target for it (a small beige circle with a sort of raised knob in the middle) on each of the lampposts near the highway. Using the grapple here is a shortcut from the lower level to the upper level, so I see why it would be useful. I shoot the hook at the target and the wire pulls me up, but that just leaves me hanging a few yards off to the side of the highway, swinging slightly back and forth. I try to pump my legs to get a large enough swing that I can jump onto the highway, but I can't get it large enough to be comfortable with the leap. I let myself back down. I try again, this time standing farther back from the light. I'm not going to give myself any time to swing back and forth and lose momentum--the moment I get high enough, I'm going to release the hook. Since the wire will be pulling me forward, I should have enough sideways momentum to reach the highway. It works!

Now I just need to figure out how to go _down_ using the hook. I go out on the balcony of the third floor of a building. It's dark out. There's a security guard in the parking lot below, locking up for the night. The grapple hook target is right on the railing for the balcony, so I attach the hook. I expect some kind of automatic animation showing me sliding down the line, but nothing happens. Well, I guess it's more realistic this way. Manually, I toss down the line. Some how the line attaches to something at a diagonal slope, so when I send my gear down, it slides out into the night like it's on a zipline. The security guard sees the gear going past and starts beating it up with a baseball bat. Shit, that gear's expensive! Hurriedly, I pull the gear and the zipline back up to the balcony. It only takes a couple of tugs. The guard peers in my direction, then suddenly points at me and starts shouting--and running towards my building. I'm not sure how he plans to get up here, until suddenly he shoots his own grappling hook at a target on the edge of the sloping terra-cotta roof that leads straight to my balcony. Uh oh. My only chance is to run past him while he's busy getting up here. I jump over the railing and onto the roof. It's hard to keep my footing as I run to the roof's edge, and I end up slipping over the side and landing on the ground with a painful thud. Okay, realistically, there's no way for me to escape from this. So I wake up.

Ziplines and Triangles (LUCID)

I'm hiding in the woods from the delegation of thirteen Aes Sedai who have come to take me away. Crouching beneath the bushes I listen to them walk nearer, I hope they will not find my hiding place. Wait, no, there are fifteen, not thirteen. That doesn't make sense; thirteen is the magic number. Oh, right--just five Aes Sedai, with ten wood nymphs to guide them through the trees. I look up from the book for a moment, thinking rather lecherously that at least I'll be able to imagine that the wood nymphs are topless green women, like in Shaiya.

My hiding place has become my bedroom on the ground floor of my family's house. I hear a knock on the door, and I know it's because the wizards have found me. They mean to take me away with them to train my magical powers in a distant school, but I don't want to go. They'll be polite about it, at least at first, so I open the door to find my youngest sister with one of her friends. They hand me a letter, which I'm sure comes from the people waiting outside. I take it, but then I flip off the girls (they don't react) and shut the door.

Later, I decide to go outside and look at the cars in which these people arrived. There's no one in sight as I walk down the driveway, but there are six or seven unfamiliar vehicles parked along the sides and along the road. Some look like they came from the early 20th century, and they're painted rather garishly with the names of the institutions to which they belong. I'm not sure how many of them belong to the wizards, and how many to other groups that happen to be in the same area.

When I return to the top of the driveway, I decide to drive in the Pathfinder. It's parked in such a way that it faces down the driveway, so I just hop in and drive it with my bare feet. I don't even have my driver license with me, which kind of bothers me, but this is rather fun. As I go down the driveway, I realize that it will be hard to turn around, so I brake and try to turn the car so that it goes between two of the big pines along our driveway. I slide sideways for a bit, but eventually I make it through and onto the lawn. I realize that I've never gone off-roading in the Pathfinder before, even though it's an SUV with a very off-road-y kind of name. It's fun, bumping along in the grass, but I have a bit of trouble getting the car back onto the driveway where it started. So I get out and walk the car, instead.

As I'm about to go back into the house, I see my mom in the garage. We talk about bikes for a moment. It looks like she's about to take something to the bottom of the driveway. It looks heavy. I ask if she wants help, but she declines. It must be about five in the morning; I wonder if she got any sleep at all. She works too hard. But without asking her a second time, I just go back into the house.

When I reach my bedroom on the top floor, suddenly I wonder if this was all a dream. I do a nose RC. It works! My bedroom is very dark. I decide to try verbal commands. "LIGHT!" I shout. "MORE LIGHT!" The lighting changes a bit, but it's not really any better. There are probably people sleeping nearby, but since it's a dream, that doesn't matter. "WAKE UP, EVERYBODY! THIS IS A LUCID DREAM!" My vision's gone wonky, like there's another image overlaying my bedroom. It looks like a curvy triangle, and I suspect it's the shape my covers are making in front of my face. Not good. Desperately, I try the light switch. Of course, it does nothing. I decide to abandon the bedroom and try my luck outside. I dash down the hall and into my parents' bedroom. As I run to their balcony, I shout some bullshit statistic, like, "Did you know that 80% of socks are hung on the sixth and seventh clotheslines?" Then I grab one of the socks that's hanging over a thick cable slanting down from the outside of the house, and I slide down the cable like it's a zipline, knocking the other pairs of socks willy-nilly to the ground.

I land in a large city plaza full of trees. Miraculously, the curvy triangle has vanished. It's a beautiful day, and there are a few people walking around. I decide to try speed-running down the sidewalk. I turn to my right, and I manage to get some speed, going perhaps twice as fast as I'd be able to sprint while awake. As I approach a heavyset guy my age going the other direction, I notice that he's looking straight at me. I slow down for a closer look. He's smiling, and he's got one hand held out like he's pointing a pistol at me. Well, that's weird, but maybe that's just how DCs say "hi" to people. I laugh and smile back, jokingly asking what he would have done if it turned out he actually shot me by accident. Then I realize that it wasn't a very funny joke. Oops. I elect just to walk away from that one.

The sidewalk ends at a highway where there are a lot of people standing around. Another guy my age tries to get me to play catch with a remote-control helicopter. Agreeably, I climb up onto a horizontal metal pole and get set to grab it. But at the last minute I chicken out. Those blades look dangerous. A few moments later, I [falsely] wake up.

I keep my eyes tightly shut. I might as well try to chain into another LD. I lie still, trying to picture the scene I just left. Then I wonder whether my theory was correct, the one about the blankets making that curvy triangle, and I decide it's worth it to open my eyes and check. Yep, there's that triangle. But wait, before I draw any conclusions, I should make sure I'm actually awake. I sit up and do a nose RC. Oh.

I decide to try using the makeshift zipline again, so I run through my parents' room and slide down. It's not as spontaneous, though, and everything outside seems to be darker and more indistinct. Moments later, I [falsely] wake up again. I lie underneath the covers with my eyes open, not sure what to do. Suddenly I notice the window. It's raining, and it looks like there's a sinister figure standing just outside, staring at me. I sit up in terror. Turns out it was just a tree and a strange trick of the light. I do an RC to find out that I'm STILL dreaming. I get out of bed and decide to try snapping flames again. Just one snap, and it doesn't work. I start trying to picture candle flames in my head, but suddenly I get very frustrated with the whole situation and I deliberately wake myself up.

[I forgot to check whether my covers in waking life were actually making a curvy triangle. I suspect they were not. Also, during the original LD in my bedroom, I said something clever involving the phrase "What the frack." Soon after, I tried to review the moment in my head so that I'd remember it when I woke up. But apparently it didn't work.]

Alex Day's Penis

Spoiler for Alex Day's Penis:

I've been watching Alex Day's newest video. It's almost over. As a grand finale, he apparently takes off his pants (though you can't see for sure, because only the top half of his body is in the shot). I feel like rolling my eyes. But then suddenly he starts messing with the camera, and there are a few frames in the resulting jumble of camera angles where I think you might actually be able to see his penis. It looks like he has an erection. This is over the top, even for him; I'm astonished that he got permission from YouTube to do something like this. There's one shot where he has an empty can of energy drink with the bottom cut out; he's holding it over the top of his penis, I guess to imply that it's longer than it is. I notice that although his penis is quite long, it's rather spindly as well. Heh. The whole time, of course, he's grinning like a maniac. I feel like I should finish what I started and watch this video to the end, but I don't like it. I keep looking at the play bar to see how much time is left.

Study Abroad

I'm visiting an old high school acquaintance while she's studying abroad in a Spanish-speaking country. Feeling brave, I decide to try talking to her in Spanish. She responds in kind, but she talks so fast that I can't really understand her. I do understand that she asks me how much Spanish I've done while in college. Slowly, I manage to formulate a response, telling her that I've studied a bit on my own but she's clearly better than I am, now.

Shootout

[This isn't really a legitimate dream, because it happened this morning when I was half awake and feeling too comfortable to get out of bed. But I definitely wasn't fully awake, and I think it's interesting, anyway.]

Not wanting to get out of bed, I'm entertaining myself by imagining various soccer plays that involve me scoring a goal. The first one is too slow, because I shot with the side of my foot. Ruefully, I remind myself that in order to get any speed, you have to have your knee over the ball and kick with the laces. Then I have more success. I bet the coach is glad about putting me in as forward. Our offense was hurting, before. I'm still frustrated with some of my fellow forwards. Then, one time at the moment when I take the shot, my actual, waking-life right leg jerks as though it's doing the kicking. Surprised, I wake up fully.

Morning Showers

Groggily, I stumble to the showers of the hotel where I'm staying. I can't seem to think straight or keep my eyes open for more than a split second, so it's a moment before I realize I'm standing under the water, holding a paperback book. A book! Quickly, I walk a few steps away and set the book on a shelf, hoping the water damage won't be too bad. I go back to the shower and stare at the wall for a few seconds. Suddenly I wonder if I'm wearing my glasses--are those its rims that I can see around the edge of my vision? I put a hand to my face. Yep, I'm wearing them. Wow, I must be really tired. I take off the glasses and put them in a basket nearby. I continue with my shower for a few minutes, but something's bothering me. I feel like there's some part of the showering process that I've forgotten, maybe something that I forgot to wash. I look down at myself. I'm wearing pants. Argh.

I [falsely] wake up in a hotel room. While I'm still in bed, my sister comes in to talk with me about lucid dreaming. I tell her that in a dream last night, I was scrolling through tumblr. She seems surprised, but she believes me. "So there really is a tumblr in there," she says. ("There" refers to "the dreaming world.") She's been trying lucid dreaming herself, but apparently she still has trouble believing how closely dreams can imitate real life. Right now she seems to be imagining all of the things she could do while she's asleep, all of the stuff she could get done. "There's so much time," she says. "You could fill out forms." She's always seemed rather results-oriented to me.

My sister starts getting ready for the day, but I keep lying in bed, thinking about how much I DON'T want to take a shower. I know I'm being lazy; I just really, really do not want to take a shower. Internally, I wonder how long it's been since I turned off my alarm at 7:00. [IRL: I meant to get up at seven, but when my alarm went off, I decided I was just too tired.] Out loud, my sister says in a surprised voice that it's already 11:00. Dang, that's late. It's time for me to get moving, whether I want to or not.

I enter the long, windowed hallway that leads from my room to the showers. Sullenly, I consider taking off my clothes and walking there naked. It seems an appropriate punishment for the world that made me get up when I didn't want to. But I don't do it. I reach the end of the hallway, which dead-ends in a pair of double doors. Confused, I realize I must have missed the turn. When I start going back the way I came, I look through a window and see a dome-shaped structure off to the side of the hallway up ahead. That must be the showers. I vaguely recall that the architecture looked dome-shaped from the inside.

Soon after, I actually do wake up. I'm amused to note that I'm actually NOT strongly opposed to the idea of taking a shower. And it's only a little after 8:00.

Car Argument (LUCID)

From the back seat of the car, I'm having a minor argument with my parents. The situation seems a little ridiculous to me, and when my mom leans over to reveal completely gray hair done in a long braid, I'm pretty certain I'm dreaming. After a nose RC, I'm sure of it. Thank goodness I don't have to deal with this argument any more. But as I try to figure out how to get out of here and start working on my dream goals, I realize that I'm waking up. The interior of the car seems to fade into the view of my bedroom from my bed. For instance, my mom's gray hair becomes a fold in my blanket. Well, that's too bad. [Thinking about this now, there's a good chance that that was actually a false awakening. I'm not sure, though.]

Snarl

[This dream was definitely inspired by the series of videos called "The Walls 2" recently recorded by Yogscast on YouTube, which I watched the day before yesterday. It also happened quite late in the morning (for me)--around 10:30.]

We're playing PVP Minecraft in 2-person teams. There are only two teams left. One member of the enemy team is chasing the other member of my team, while I in turn chase him. We run back to my team's base, then we sandwich him between us and kill him with swords. Excellent! Now, the other guy is hiding underneath the ground here. There are lots of holes in the ground and lots of tunnels, and it's all very confusing, so we're not sure how to get him.

We decide to build an enclosed room with a roof and a tower. So my teammate and I sit down with the Legos and start working. I begin by making the tower, which is a really tall wall built from 1x2x1 blue blocks. I get bored with how slowly it's going, so I try just spreading the blocks like I'm extending a folding telescope. It doesn't work, and my friend laughs at me for trying. Anyway, eventually I finish the tower and start working on the other half of the roof.

Suddenly I hear a violent snarl and I feel as though my head's been seized in the jaws of a big, angry dog. The snarl continues as it starts shaking my head back and forth, up and down, like a very erratic vibration. I spend a panicked second trying to decide what to do--is my friend playing a prank on me?!--before I wake up. It feels like the vibrations continue for a moment before they stop. I sit for a minute in shock before doing an RC and confirming that I'm awake.

[It's crossed my mind that maybe that was a seizure, but I doubt it. More likely I imagined it. Either way, it was a strange experience.]

Counter-Bullying

I'm sitting at a desk in a high-school classroom. The teacher is an athletic-looking male, and it's a math class. But I'm not paying attention to that, because I feel something hurting me from behind. Some dumb kid thinks it would be fun to bully me, eh? I half turn in my seat, then casually and carefully bite the finger that's hurting me. I only catch a tiny bit of skin in the bite, but I think it's enough.

"Thank you, for not doing that again," I say. No reply.

A few minutes later, I feel a prick of pain in one of my shoulders that won't go away. Apparently I didn't scare them off last time. I have no idea how they're causing this particular sensation of pain, but I try to get rid of it by rubbing my shoulder against the seat behind me. It stops. After a second, I decide it's time for a confrontation. I turn all the way around and grab the kid behind me by the front of his clothes. He looks to be about fourteen or fifteen, with his hair cut long, a bit like Justin Bieber. He had been laughing quietly to himself, but he's not any more.

"What's your name, kid?" I ask. He just keeps looking around, shifting his eyes and not making eye contact. He doesn't look particularly scared. I'm trying to give him an angry, threatening look, and I'm surprised at how successful I seem to be. It's not a look I've had much experience with.

I look around to see if he had an accomplice. The guy sitting to the kid's right seems to be laughing to himself as well, so I ask him, "How about you, huh? What's your name?" He too stops laughing, but he doesn't answer, either. I notice that both kids have the same basic haircut, and also the same hair color: light blond dyed a faint purple. Anyway, since neither of them are responding, I suppose I should start thinking about how to deliver the rest of my speech.

I get up to walk a few feet away, conscious that other people in the room are probably about to start noticing the confrontation. When I turn around, I'm surprised to find things have escalated: an ally of mine's found a friend of his, and they've ganged up on one of the boys who was bullying me. One of them is pinning the boy's arms behind his back, and the other is winding up to punch him. I suppose they figure they'll get him to talk by torturing him. But that's no good, so I run back and shove them apart with my hands. Now the teacher's definitely coming, so I only have a few moments to finish dealing with the situation my way. I start lecturing the kid from the seat behind me, even as the teacher runs up and tells us in an exasperated, angry voice to get back to our seats. It's clear he just wants to end the disruption; he doesn't really care what caused it. I think I should finish my lecture, first.

I [falsely] wake up. I spend a few moments trying to remember the details of the dream, then I open my dream diary. I'm surprised not to see a date on the page: I usually write tomorrow's date right before I go to bed at night. But then I look at some of the text already on the page and remember that I've already written down some dreams from earlier tonight. So I put down a new bullet point and write down some details from this most recent dream, including "slight purplish hair." My handwriting is unusually small. I hope I'll be able to read it later.

Now, I'm not sure what time it is, and I'm not sure whether I have school today. It's the day after I flew back to Chicago for school. [IRL, I'm still on summer vacation.] I'm mostly moved into my room, except I'm pretty sure some of my stuff is still in storage elsewhere in the city. I'd planned to get that before classes started, so I really hope it's not Monday. But then, I'd planned to fly back on a Friday, so maybe I have the whole weekend left? I'm not sure, so I look for my cell phone to check the date.

The room is large and rectangular, the headboard of my queen-sized bed midway up the longer side. My first cell phone tells me nothing. My second cell phone, a red one, confuses me. [IRL, I don't have a second cell phone.] I can't find the date or time anywhere. Then I see the word "recording" on the screen, and I realize I must have left it recording video all through the night. I wonder what size the file is by now.

Bottomless

Towards the end of the women's choir concert, a soloist walks on. I don't recognize her as one of the members of the choir. Her first few notes have pretty bad tone, which I realize must be because she hasn't done any singing yet in the concert (so she isn't warmed up). As the song goes on, she doesn't get much better--although she does have a nice stage personality, so the song's still enjoyable. But eventually she stops and goes into the bathroom. It's kind of dark, so I'm not sure about this next part, but . . . when she comes out of the bathroom, it looks like she's not wearing any pants or underwear.

Dreamer's Tales

I'm reading from a random dream journal on DV. The writer uses a large, boldface font. The basic story is that he's incapacitated the leader of the bad guys, but he's still looking around for the rest of them. Then he realizes that in the time he's been looking, the leader may have woken up again. For all he knows, the leader could be standing right behind him, right now. The DJ entry stops there. I'm delighted to realize that I understand why: the sense of being followed is sometimes scary enough to cause the "Abort! Abort! Nightmare!" response. Overall, I'm impressed with this dream and with the way it was told.

Revelry

My dad is laughing about something he just heard from one of his friends. Apparently, that friend just received a call that his son was arrested in Philadelphia. As far as anyone knows so far, he got drunk with some friends, and they decided to fly over there to watch our state football team play an away game? Either way, it's hilarious.

Gaps

I'm writing in my dream diary when I realize that I'm running out of space: there are some more notes in the diary, below where I'm writing right now. I must accidentally have written on that page one time when there wasn't enough light to see what I was doing. I have plenty more stuff to write, though, so I need more room. I look back at the previous page and notice five or six blank lines on the bottom. I have no idea why I skipped those, but good thing I did! Now I have enough space to finish my entry.

Accio Glasses

I'm home between classes, working on something. When I look at the clock, I realize that it's way past time for me to be heading back to school. Class has already started. Even worse: I just remembered I have a worksheet due today. I meant to work on it during this break, but it completely slipped my mind. Hurriedly, I gather up my things from the room and start towards the door. I notice that everything looks a little fuzzy, and I realize I've forgotten to put on my glasses. I run back to the room in which I left them. They're all the way on the other side of the room, and my sister's sitting in an easy chair, reading a book. I suspect she's irritated about all the noise I'm making, so I try to make a joke.

"Accio glasses!" I say, pointing my hand across the room. That way, she'll realize I'm in a hurry (since I wish I could just summon my glasses, rather than walking to them). Hopefully she'll also think I'm in a good mood ('cause it's a joke), and it'll put her in a better mood (since it's a Harry Potter reference). Anyway, my glasses case rises from its resting place and floats across the room to hover in front of me. It opens, and my glasses float out and unfold themselves. Bemused, I reach for them. But apparently they were expecting me to reach for a different part, because they helpfully dart a foot to one side, causing me to miss. On the second try, I grab them.

Cast Iron

I'm being chased by a wild animal, a bear or something. Right in front of me is an alley guarded by a cast iron gate. If I can climb over the gate, I'll be safe. But the bear is right behind me, so I have to climb quickly. Once I start climbing, my arms and legs suddenly feel like they weigh fifty pounds apiece. They get tangled in the gaps in the cast iron, and I know I won't make it up in time.

I decide to try again. This time, I'm being chased by a gorilla with tentacles on its chin, like Davy Jones from PotC. But it's also farther back and I'm already halfway up the gate. I manage to get over in time. I watch as it runs up to the gate and starts climbing after me. Uh oh. I run to a door at the end of the alley, just a plain rectangle of wood, painted white. It opens inward, but the space behind is almost entirely filled by the door itself. I try to hold the door at just the right angle to squeeze around the edge, so that I can shut the door behind me.

Presentation Day

I walk into my English class, and the teacher says "Let's talk about [insert author here]." I'd completely forgotten about that reading. I remember him assigning it almost on the first day of class, but I thought he would remind us at least once before the day it was due! Apparently he expects us to keep track of everything we should be doing. Which is fine, except that I've failed that expectation. I'm supposed to have read an entire play, but I have no idea what it's even about.

A small group of students goes to the front of the room to do their presentation. Sometime during the course of class, I accidentally scratch a girl's ankle.

I wake up [falsely]. Taking a long, sharp metal stick, I go into the front hall and begin scratching the wooden floor, writing down my notes for the dream I just had. My sister walks by just as I finish writing the name of the girl I accidentally scratched. I notice she's looking at the name, and I'm worried she'll recognize it, or perhaps mistakenly associate the name with someone else she knows, who just happens to have the same name.