10-02-2012 -- [Am out of work, broke, and have no money to buy bananas or apple juice or anything else that sometimes helps with recall, so for several days I haven't remembered much from my dreams. But last night I remembered lots of fragments. Most of the stuff is gone, but the bits that still remain a little in my mind are fun, and worth writing down. The first bit is actually from a couple of weeks ago, but hasn't been entered yet, and since I again couldn't remember most of it, just decided to add it to the bits here.] Am out fishing in streams outside a nice apartment complex. Inside the complex itself, I run into a friend (Joel K.?) who is being seduced by some sort of Femme Fatale. I manage to grab his attention, and we rush off by car to some sort of parking warehouse where I can pick up my own car. As I am getting my car, the femme fatale has again found Joel, and is giving him her car. It has key-less entry, and for some reason she is really enjoying telling him the code is 3 ... 2 ... 1 ... KABOOM! For some reason I find this very funny. Anyway, Joel has taken to the road in her car, and we're trying to catch his attention. I soon find myself driving down a damaged and under construction freeway on the wrong side of the road with traffic flooding towards me. I manage to drive onto the shoulder and turn around, just to find there is a sports stadium on the other side of the freeway, and somebody is shooting at me from the top of the stands. I manage to escape that, but now have cops chasing me, until I drive to a police station to talk to them about all that has been going on. --- Incredibly little from this one. Something about watching a police chase on TV that spreads to three screens (ala Impressions de France at EPCOT) before somehow turning live, and I'm the one being chased by cops. Not sure, but think I was in a dark green, big, powerful, older car. --- Again, mostly missing. At some sort of event taking place at some sort of grade school with little kids, except the physical campus is Brookhurst Junior High. Parts of this refer back to, and directly connect to a dream I once had that involved a job feeding a dog in a mobile home park while the owners were on vacation (or simply working further back in the area). While it was a real dream, I do not know if I ever wrote it down or posted it, and since it was possibly three or four years ago, too many dreams to go through to try and find it. There are hints of Christmas decorations and perhaps Knott's Berry farm, and I think there is some dancing in the quad. Strange stuff. At one point, I walk into an office. Am thinking about speaking to somebody about something, but it is crowded, busy, and I have forgotten what I want to speak about, anyway. So I just stand around for a couple minutes, then leave. I soon find myself at home in the Hickory house, where I am heading to my second bedroom to maybe get some sleep. The door is missing to the front hall, but the space is partly blocked by a bookcase so there is no access, but also no privacy. The kitchen door is the one used to access the room. I go in and am going to try to take a nap, but Percy Weasley comes in and says they are worried about me, and he is going to take my blood pressure. Cheryl (daughter of my landlord) comes in after that, and it turns out Percy is her son. The blood pressure cuff they have seems small and frail, and I think it isn't going to fit on my arm, but it does. Percy gives the bulb very weak squeezes, and there is almost no pressure, and they get a reading of about 140/xx, which isn't too bad for me. But I don't trust it because they pumped it up so little. So I take the thing, and am holding the pump in the hand of the arm which I'm taking the reading from, while trying to hold the stethoscope in the other hand, and start to pump myself up. It is very uncomfortable, and the pressure on my arm is really bad, and it is kind of cramping up. [Woke to find I had somehow gotten into a position where my arm was jammed between the headboard of my bed and my head in a very tight position, and it had gone completely to sleep in such a way that it was quite painful, and took me about two minutes to get the blood flowing properly again ... likely causing the entire last bit of the dream.] --- [I wish most of this wasn't gone ... it was great stuff, but I can remember almost none of it.] I am Harry Potter, and I am involved in some sort of war, but it is not a magical war. It seems to be a muggle war, but against alien invaders. Many of the women in this dream are not aliens, but were just kidnapped by them, or affected by them. Though one was certainly an alien, a very light green tint to her skin, and very light fur all over her body, though still attractive. As we're wandering around the barracks, these women are just appearing, either on the ground, or in mid-air a few feet above the ground, and just dropping. They're all nude, and very horny, and the kinds of things you would kind of expect to happen in such a dream are happening. Frequently. Thing is, this leads to a very relaxed, happy, and determined unit. We've got a bunch of bright, sexy women supporting us, and we have no desire to lose them, so we become a very productive group of soldiers who are accomplishing a heck of a lot. And who follow none of the regular protocols or procedures. So the higher-ups hate us, but can't get rid of us. It doesn't hurt that the Weasley twins spend a lot of time developing both pranks and weapons for us, the pranks of which they frequently test out on us, to our combined amusement and annoyance. I'm not sure, but I am pretty sure a lot of this involved chases through mazes of dark, foreboding buildings and collapsing ruins based on the Darkmeyer quests I have been doing in Runescape over the last couple of days. --- Another dream after a brief awakening, taking place in the same universe as the last one, though now I am just myself, not Harry Potter. It is now several years later, the war is over, and a lot of us involved are just thinking about writing, both fiction and non-fiction about the war. I run across Radar O'Reilly, who is one of the upper ranks, but still one of the guys. He is nowhere near in charge, of course, but he is pretty high up by this point. He is writing fond reminiscence about attractive alien ladies running around in outfits that *gasp* actually let their belly buttons show. I don't know if he is just ignoring the nudity, or his mind just refused to show him more than belly buttons, but it comes across kind of sweet. I wander into Kevin B's living room to try and speak to him about a couple of plot ideas, but he is trying to chat up two lovely (no longer nude) aliens, trying to get some action, and tries to distract me by handing me a couple of TV series script treatments he has written up. I just sit them on a stack of such that he is getting ready to send off to try and interest people, and wander off to try and find my own sweet alien ladies.
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