Talk About Being a Dreamer

I was in an event with a bunch of people from The Biggest Loser. One of them was Jeremy from this season, and as he and I were walking up this hill, we were talking, and I was thinking he was kind of nice.

We stopped halfway up the hill because there was a bathroom. Yes, a full bathroom, stalls and everything, right in the middle of this hill. Near the bathroom was a room with a table. When I came out of the bathroom and walked toward the room, I heard Jeremy say something about me. I don't remember exactly what he said, but it was something that had to do with having a crush on me.

I thought it was cute, so I didn't give him any grief. And he has cute dimples, so it was okay by me.

I've been dreaming a lot lately, which may be why I stumbled back to DV. Here are a few of the ones I've recorded from the past month:

4/1/12

Dream 1
I was in a store and realized the shorts I thought I had on were actually men’s briefs. I walked through the whole store before I realized my gaffe, and made my husband go get me a pair of shorts while I hid between racks of clothes. Interestingly, no one seemed to care that I was pantless but me.

Dream 2
I had a flashback experience where I saw the place Hagrid was born. It was beautiful—high up in the mountains, impossibly pale blue sky. Hobbit-like village, if hobbits were 12 feet tall and lived on mountains. Young Tom Riddle traveled back in time to kill a pre-Hogwarts Hagrid. His best buddy Gharj (second boss in Eternity Vault in SWTOR) came to his defense and rescued him. They were best friends forever from that point on. It was actually pretty touching.

Dream 3
I was playing some kind of real-life game where you shoot guns at other people. They don’t die, of course, but somehow they are real guns. I’m not sure how that works, but it made sense to me then.

I came into a match halfway through, and it was clear that the players here had been snipers. The room was all white, everyone was wearing white clothes and facepaint, and there were little sniper perches set up from these white pentagon-shaped boards that could be snapped together.

One of my friends was in the match, and he was concentrating intensely on someone he was trying to snipe in the corner, so I snuck into the abandoned perch next to him. He didn’t see me, and he was covered in white paint, so all I could see was the outline of his eye protection. I was lining up my shot with my sniper rifle, which somehow had a heart-shaped barrel, when I woke up.

4/13/12

There was some kind of race. I'm not sure if it was post-apocalyptic, but it had a Hunger Games feel to it--we were being forced to participate and the whole event was completely unreasonable.

We were paired up. I was paired with a male friend of mine, and my husband was paired with a blonde woman that looked strikingly similar to an ex-girlfriend, although I didn't recognize the woman as the ex-girlfriend in the dream.

We had to travel down this long, dusty road that seemed endless. We were in a place that was completely flat and dry. There was grass, but it was all brown, and there were no trees. We weren't given any provisions except what we brought ourselves and could carry, so my friend and I were carrying a few bottles of water each, and that was all. I remember being very thirsty.

People were dragging themselves along, trying as hard as they could to make it. There were officials at the edges in suits, I think some even had guns, to make sure we stuck to the course. After a few days of traveling like this, we reached the end of the road. There, at the end, was a deep trench of water, 50-100 feet deep straight down. We had to jump in, swim to the bottom, and then swim back to the top.

Somehow, this wasn't too big of a deal. By the time I got back to the top, my lungs were burning, but it didn't feel life threatening. I made sure my partner made it out, and then we traveled back down the road. When we finished, everybody hugged and cried and laughed.

The woman my husband was partnered with said something about him being a married man, and I yelled out, "and don't you forget it!" to him, laughing.

Then, me and my partner were at a table somewhere, but somehow it was like we were suddenly teenagers, and he was wearing a gray hoodie and had his hand in the back pocket of my jeans.

I ended up writing a poem about this one:

Dusty feet running, walking,
dragging down a dirt road
with no end. It makes me
think maybe the world
is flat and drops off
in a hole filled with water
a hundred feet deep, but
we are not surprised
to find it. We push
down to the bottom
with lungs that shouldn't
breathe but do and we
claw upward through
pounds of impossible
pressure. We break the
ceiling and grin and gasp
and redefine life
for the ones who
have merely lived it.