Shenanigans and Skydiving (LUCID) [I don't remember how this dream began, but at the beginning of our tale I am lucid, I'm standing in my room near the exterior wall (with a window), and I've decided to go outside.] I consider crashing straight through the wall using a shoulder, but I think in this case something more elaborate would be safer. I back away from the wall, staring at it carefully. I'll try to use a fireball to blow it up, but in order for that to have even a chance of working, I need to have a pretty clear idea what I imagine it would look like. I concentrate on the wall, imagining it heating up. The colors start changing: the wall becomes red-tinted, or maybe purple. I thrust my hands at it, and the wall turns black and splits into triangles in an isometric pattern. As the triangles shrink and fade away, I charge through the wall. I realize the explosion wasn't very realistic, but at least I did get through. I start jogging down the road. I'm wearing clothes again [I took them off at some previous part of the dream], probably because the weird explosion made me lose concentration and the feeling of lying under the covers made me unconsciously feel like I should be clothed. So as I'm jogging, I take them off again. Since it's fairly early in the day, I pass only a few joggers going the other way, which is probably a good thing given my state of undress. There's a lot of construction on the road--so much that only a narrow path for joggers remains, going down the middle. I go down the path. At the other end, the path even narrows a bit more, just to make absolutely clear that no cars are allowed to go this way. There are three guys my age standing up there, waiting for some cars to pass. Once the cars are gone, two of them start pranking the other. I hang around for a few minutes in order to see what's going on, but then I decide that this could get ugly and I'd better get out of here. I turn around and go back the way I came, but not before I give the guys a thumbs-up to take the edge off of my departure. It occurs to me that I'm using that thumbs-up trick a lot in this dream. [I think I did it once before to my mom before I left the house.] Walking up the driveway to my house, I feel like I'm giving up on the dream, like all my adventures are over. I look over my shoulder at the clouds. They seem an awfully long way away, but I might as well take a risk and try something new! Putting my arms into Superman pose, I blast off. As the clouds approach, I wonder if they'll feel chilly or misty. And indeed they do, sort of. I fly through a few layers of clouds, looking around at the cumulus cloudscapes. Experimentally, I blow some air at the cloud I'm flying through, and indeed it seems to thin a bit in the place I'm aiming the air. Then I decide that's enough of that, and I start falling back towards the ground. At first I try a cannonball shape, then I try pretending to dive headfirst, but then I decide to adopt a spread-limbed pose as if I'm skydiving. Unfortunately, the ground is already approaching very quickly. Just a few seconds later, I reach behind me and mime pulling a parachute cord. It works, but I'm still going too fast. It looks like I will land in my front yard. Spying a tall tree, I shoot a grappling hook from my right wrist. It tangles in the branches. Then I shoot another from my left wrist, sort of jerking my arm sideways so that the hook swings around another tree trunk like a tetherball. Increasing the tension on both arms simultaneously, I'm able to slow myself almost to a stop, hanging a foot above the lawn. Then I drop the rest of the way, attempting to release the grappling hooks so I can walk. It doesn't work too smoothly until I pretend like my right pinky nail is a small knife, which I use to cut the wire. Then I walk towards the front door of the house and wake up.
Cat Surgery I walk into the basement to find an unfamiliar young man sitting with some of my parents. He's holding one of our pet cats, while my dad holds the other. [IRL: The other cat died, actually, about a year ago.] The other cat (a white one) gets away from dad, so I go after it. Evidently something is being done to the cats which they don't like, but which is good for them. Eventually I find the white cat and bring it back downstairs. Now the stranger is sawing off the cat's front paw with a hacksaw. My parents assure me that this is a necessary surgery, since the cats' paws never healed right from that time they fell from a great height. I remember that event; it was somehow my fault. [IRL: No such thing has ever happened.] Despite my parents' assurances, I still think that this operation will probably kill the cats. Which is a real shame, because I think this first cat in particular had a long, eventful life ahead of him, in spite of his limp. The man finishes with the first cat, and we give him the second one. Later, the first cat jumps up onto the couch next to me. I'm shocked to see that he has both front paws back already, and they don't seem to be paining him at all. Do cats have some kind of regenerative ability? Manual Roller Coaster Right up ahead, my sisters and I see the entrance of a big covered slide. We dive right in; I'm last. It's a sort of man-powered roller coaster: the idea is to crawl through as quickly as possible. Visibility isn't so good, so sometimes a sharp curve will take you off guard. Then suddenly I reach a long downward segment that I can just slide straight down. This is a blast! A bit later, I accidentally run into my sisters, who apparently just ran into each other. The youngest one apparently tripped because of an unusually long, sharp turn (something like 720 degrees), and then we all crashed right into her. Still, we extricate ourselves in moments and continue the ride. At the end of the ride, there are a bunch of computers. You can type in your identification and it will tell you how long it took you to go through the ride, and how you compare to that day's other participants. I got 611th, which I think isn't too bad. Then I talk to my sisters, and it turns out the youngest one got 609th. I hadn't expected her to do better than I did! I'm a bit put out, but good for her anyway. Exclusive Buffet I'm eating dinner with some classmates at a big restaurant. We're having an important conversation, when suddenly someone comes out on the stage at one side of the room. The person talking to me has his back to the stage, so I try to shush him so I can hear what the woman on stage has to say. I realize I seem a bit rude, but surely he'll understand. A few other actors come onstage, and they start performing a play. I have only a moment to feel surprised before a bulky, intimidating man comes up to our table and starts taking away our plates, whether or not we're done with them. "I'm sorry," he says firmly, "we're closing now unless you're part of the club." He has a bit of an accent. I remember that this place serves a buffet until 8:00, when the actual fancy dinner starts. You have to pay extra to be part of that, or something. And now it's 8:00, so we have to go. On the way out, some of my classmates snag something from the dessert station at the buffet. That's a little rude of them, since technically we're not allowed to eat anything from here anymore. Good thing I got my dessert earlier. Outside on the sidewalk, I hear some other classmates complaining about not having eaten a full dinner because there was nothing good at the buffet. I'm glad I avoided that problem by eating plenty, even if the food was pretty unremarkable. First Day of Classes (LUCID) I get up later than usual and hurry to find breakfast. I pass one of the dormitory suites, where apparently someone has set up a small continental breakfast. Interesting, to see such a business here. I get some food there. Then it's time to find my first class. A lot of time has passed, so when I go back into the hallway, I see a gigantic line of people coming out of the suite's main entrance. It goes all the way down the hallway and down a staircase. I'm glad I missed the line, but suddenly I realize that so many people in line means these are probably the people who get breakfast immediately before heading to class. So I have very little time to collect my things and find my class. I hurry down the staircase, trying not to jostle the line of people too much. [about 6 classes later . . .] My next class is titled something like "Practice Session." My guess would be that that refers to a free slot for me to practice my instrument, but that doesn't make much sense, since I'm not a music major and this is not a conservatory. But in any case, I have to find the classroom, which is called the MUSIC room, appropriately enough. But the name "MUSIC" is actually some kind of alphabetical index of where to find the class. Like, I need to find floor M, then hallway U, etc. I suppose the music department thought they were very clever when they designed this room numbering scheme. I'm hurrying down a surprisingly dark corridor, feeling rather lost. I think I'm on the right floor, but I can't find "U" anywhere. Suddenly, I come upon a library, where my orchestra conductor is talking to some of her students. Well, it's good to find other live people here, but I don't really want to talk to her right now, so I avoid them. Consulting my class schedule again, I realize that my next class isn't even in the MUSIC room. I've had about three other classes in there today, but this one is somewhere else. That's a relief, until I realize that the room shouldn't just disappear if I don't happen to have a class in it right now. But I don't have time to worry about that; I have to find this other place. It strikes me that today has been an inauspicious first day of classes. I had been hoping that after last quarter (which was very stressful) I would have learned something about avoiding stress and staying calm--but alas, it seems like I have not. Especially since I seem to remember that I skipped most of one of my classes this morning because I had to finish an essay that was technically due last quarter. My map has a sort of sticker on it, labeled with the name of the place I'm looking for, but it's way out in the middle of nowhere, and the map doesn't show any route to get there. I'm not convinced that's the right place, so I wander around some more. Then I realize I'm just pretending that it's not the place because it's much farther away than I expected. I should just suck it up and go there, even if it will take a while. Looking at the syllabus for this class (which is a small, staple-bound book with a brown cover), I notice that there's even some advice printed on the back cover: the professor says we should leave for his class within ten seconds of the end of the previous class if we want to make it to his class within ten minutes of the alleged start time. I start walking, but then I realize I'm not carrying a backpack or any school supplies at all. And I have only fifteen minutes until class starts. I might make it on time if I keep walking there, but I'll definitely be late if I go back to my room first. I wish I could just "Accio" my school supplies so they catch up to me while I'm walking. Of course, that's just wishful thinking-- --but then I realize that I'm dreaming! Sweet! Okay, I can fly back to my room, get my stuff, and fly to class, and still be there with time to spare. So I set out to do just that. [On my way to class, I lose lucidity.] The route to class turns into a dirt hiking trail. I try going straight to the classroom, but the path leads under a giant boulder, and I discover that there's not enough clearance for me to squeeze through. Backing out, I make my way around the boulder instead. There are two young boys jumping around on the rocks, shooting at each other with what I identify as laser guns. One shouts at the other, "Mister, show me your ID card!" Clearly, they're imitating the adults from around here, the security guards that watch the entrance to the secure facility in which my class takes place. Okay, I should try to find the guardhouse so I can gain entrance to the facility. There's a small wooden cabin across the road that looks promising. Inside the cabin, I find the teacher for my class. In order to pass the gatehouse, every student has to sign a contract. All of the contracts are hand-written (by the professor), and I can't read mine at all--it's totally illegible. But one by one, all of the other students are leaving the gatehouse to go to class, and in desperation I finally just sign the contract. The classroom seems rather like an art studio. There are a lot of heavy-duty tables spread around the room; some of them are pushed against the wall like booth seats at restaurants. It is at one of these latter tables that the professor is sitting, and he invites the class to gather 'round his table while he explains what we'll do in today's class.
Cross-Dressing A guest on a talk show demonstrates his attempt to dress like a woman. Then there's a video clip showing him in the outfit that the show's hosts create in order to teach him how to do it better. The outfit is red and black with bows in various places. I'm impressed. It makes a distinct statement while also seeming to suit the man quite well. Group Project We're working on our project (which is due soon) when suddenly we get assigned a new group member. That's really unfair. We have to add a new section on "Charm" (as in charisma) in order for there to be enough substance in the presentation to accommodate a new member. The rest of the group votes that I should work on this section, and it's clear that they mean this to be derogatory (by implying that my personality needs a lot of work). We sit in hostile silence for a few minutes. I decide to give them the silent treatment and work on my own for the rest of the project. Saruman I'm working with some friends on a level in a game. In a room near my character, a wizard starts leading a ritual which we cannot allow to be completed. We try to run amid the gathered orcs and kill things, but there are just so many of them! I score a lot of hits, but I can't see the health bars, so I don't know how much more work will be required. And I'm not focusing on just one target at a time, either: I'm just running in circles and loops, slashing at everything that I pass. I pass the wizard and take a swipe at him, but then I get a better look at his face. It's Saruman. I feel scared, now--I'm not prepared to face him. Slightly Daring I'm sitting in someone's lap. Feeling a bit daring, I squirm around a bit, ostensibly in order to get more comfortable. Climbing It's the beginning of the last level of a game. I have to climb up a rocky slope on a mountainside.
No recall.
Comic Book Art I'm with a friend. He tells me to come look at some of his "coolest things." He shows me an intriguing piece of comic book art: a monster flipping a coin. Somehow the art conveys the artist's desire to make the monster "challengingly" grotesque to the reader, in the sense that we are supposed to view it as an empathetic, sentient creature, but all the details are calculated to make the monster repulsive and fearsome. I immediately try to imitate the drawing on a blank sheet of paper, to see if I can convey the same feeling. Somehow, the skin of my replica monster looks much drier than the skin on the original.
Gunman I'm browsing a mid-sized room in a supermarket. A gunman comes out of the hallway and starts shooting everyone. In the confusion, I fall over. I'm about to get up and run away when I realize that it's probably smarter to play dead. The gunman is just here to kill people; he's not going to waste bullets on dead bodies. Later, I go into an office with cubicles. The gunman isn't shooting anyone any more, but he rules tyrannically over everyone in the office. We live in fear that at any time he'll come around the corner, start an apparently pleasant conversation with us, then kill someone for no reason other than a momentary desire to commit homicide. I talk to a woman who gives me some documents that I must carry somewhere. The mission is part of a resistance effort, and it is very risky. I admit to the woman that I'm scared. On the way, the gunman (now a certain YouTube personality) falls in beside me, greeting me jovially. I am terrified of this man's whims, and he knows it--he exaggerates his unpredictability. I'm not sure how to make him go away; he seems determined to accompany me wherever I'm going. At one point, we engage in a rock-throwing battle (like the one in Braveheart).
Ask Her (LUCID) The party is happening at an indoor swimming pool. The building is three stories tall, and most people are hanging out on the balconies of the upper two stories, overlooking the pool. There are all sorts of staircases to climb and all kinds of ropes and structural supports hanging around the ceiling, so I'm having a blast swinging around the room and over the pool doing flips and leaps. While I'm taking a break from this, walking down one of the upper balconies, a portly, bearded man falls in next to me. "You were doing pretty well out there with all those flips," he says. "Yeah, because--" Suddenly I remember that such acrobatics are a dead giveaway that I'm dreaming. I give the man a sideways look. I bet you anything he asked me that question just to make me realize that. "Because gravity doesn't work the same here, because I'm dreaming. I bet the other dream characters are pretty mad at you right now." (Everyone knows that dream characters are in general opposed to the dreamer's becoming lucid.) I'm proud of myself for remembering the phrase "dream characters." The man chuckles. "Yes, I suppose they are." We walk a few steps while I ruminate on the favor he's done me. "You know, I come to this pool almost every night," I say. "But I've never realized before that it's a dream. So thank you." We go our separate ways. I do some more acrobatics. [I lose most of my lucidity almost right away, probably because I was determined just to go with the flow so the dream didn't fade away.] At one point I dive towards the water, only to pull out of it at the last moment using a breast stroke. I'd forgotten how useful the breast stroke is for flying. Later, I'm talking to a group of friends on a balcony. They seem to think I have a crush on one of the girls here, someone named "Anna." I don't even know what she looks like, but they're all determined that I should talk to her. "You should ask her," they say. "Just ask her!" I leave for a little while. When I come back, I see a kinda cute girl standing a few feet away from my friends, though a lot of people have left the balcony since last I was here. "Is that Anna?" I ask. "What?" says the girl I'm talking to, glancing in the direction I'm indicating. "No, that's not her. Anna's younger than that." Younger? So she's in high school? Why would they think I have a crush on a high school girl? Weird. Well, at least I proved that I actually don't know who she is. It occurs to me, though, that this might just be how I start relationships: I have to wait for the girl's friends to insist that I ask her out. That's a depressing thought. I walk back to a staircase, where another group of friends invites me to play a game. A girl produces several two-inch lengths of floss, which are flavored with a randomly-generated flavor. We each have to take one and try to describe what it tastes like. I am very impressed that she's somehow discovered how to encode a randomly-generated flavor in a little piece of string. "You all keep complimenting me on my acrobatics, but this"--I say, holding out my piece of floss--"is really much more impressive." Then we all put the floss in our mouths and spend a few minutes sucking. I'm having a bit of trouble with mine, because seemingly the flavor's not very strong. The people to my right start writing down their impressions, and finally, they ask me what I think. "You know, I think mine is just . . . lemon." I was certainly not expecting to get such an ordinary flavor, which is probably why I had such a hard time identifying it. "Oh, so you mean it was boring," my friends say, commiserating. I wait a bit for the next round to start, but it looks like that will take a while. I make my apologies to the girl hosting the game and depart. I explore some back staircases, which are deserted except for me. It takes some effort to climb all the way to the top, so I'm pleasantly surprised to find that the last half-staircase (from the landing between the second and third floors to the third floor) is only two steps long. I walk out into the hall. I hear some noises from a bathroom, and a janitor comes out with cleaning supplies. Awkward. [I have no recollection of having visited this pool before. But I suppose my dream-self would know better than I about something like that.]
Frags: I'm singing an improvised melody, trying to incorporate some fast scales as a unifying motive. One of the scales works really well, ending up on the right note at just the right time. But the next one is rather less smooth, and I stop my improvisation with a rueful grin and an apology to my listeners.A man suddenly stops talking to do a strange pose: some kind of contorted lunge. While posing, he's a naked woman.
Superpower I'm practicing my superpower. Some other people with the same superpower are doing the same thing nearby, so we're having a sort of friendly competition. It turns out that I'm better than they are, which is a satisfying feeling.
Frags: I remember no details, but . . . sex was involved [Side note: I just got home after finishing finals.]
Frags: something about getting up on time
Sparring I meet up with an old friend from high school for the first time in a while. I pretend to do some Tae Kwon Do moves at him, and suddenly he counterattacks while saying some words that I recognize from the dojang. "Where did you get those words??" I ask incredulously. He must have taken up TKD! We continue sparring for a little while. I am reminded of something my instructor once said: "Think of sparring as a way of saying hi to your partner." Confidence Someone is supposedly fated to slay a terrible dragon. But the person is a staunch supporter of free will, and hence has trouble believing in something like fate. So ze is very unconfident about the prospect of fighting this dragon, which clearly hurts zir chances of succeeding. [I don't recall whether this person was me, or somebody else.]
I Quit (8:00) I'm at a sports club, where we're doing our warm-up workout outside. The current exercise involves teams of three. We lock arms in a specific way, then take turns trying to lift the people on our left and right using our core muscles. I'm the last person in our group to do it, so I wasn't expecting it to be as hard as it is. I try it once--try it twice--and then give up. With hardly a goodbye, I walk back towards the locker room to change and go home. On the way is a swimming pool, and I accidentally trip and fall into it. At the last moment I remember that my shoes are muddy, and I hook my legs over the side of the pool so I'm hanging upside down from the edge. That way, the water stays clean. After I pull myself back out, the club's head instructor is standing on the other side of the pool, looking at me. He commends me for my civic responsibility in keeping the mud out of the water, and as a reward, he says he's willing to overlook my embarrassing decision to quit the club. "We're back together," he says, and it's clear he's enjoying the double entendre. This guy seems kind of like a sleaze-bag, and I don't think I want back into the club. I throw an apple core at him and go into the locker room. Inside, there are some students practicing Apparition. It makes me sorry to realize I'll never get a chance to learn it, now. The trick has something to do with having complete faith that when you turn around, you'll be looking at the new location; I never quite got the hang of it. Oh well. I look over towards the secret door, which I also never figured out how to open. Then I see there's some kind of locking mechanism in the upper right corner. It's moving around, which must mean someone is trying to come through the door. Probably the head instructor trying to talk to me again. Indeed, it is him. As soon as the door opens, we start fighting. It's a mix of Tae Kwon Do sparring and a knife fight. We end up back outside, advancing and retreating and circling around one another. I'm rather proud of myself for being able to deflect all of his attacks. I am joined by a team of fighters on roller blades. They are part of a resistance group that has an ongoing feud with the sports club. Sensing my opportunity to cut ties with this place, I go with them when they leave.
Frags: "apathy will the next?" [don't ask; I have no clue]
Frags: Java codingchamber music
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