May 25, 2013 -- [Went to sleep at about 10:30, probably drifted away about 10:45. Phone records show I received the text message that half-woke me at 11:52, then drifted back to sleep and continued dream, actually waking around 12:05, so you could argue most of this dream actually took place on the 24th.] I'm at the Hickory house and mom is beating up on me again [nothing like this ever happened in real life, but in dreams I have to deal with this frequently, the last couple of years ... my mom, who has been dead for 7 or 8 years, is battering me for no reason in my dreams, except that she is going crazy.] She is claiming that I have done something horrible to the cat, who has been gone for something like 15 years, now, and it is obvious she is nuts. I put up with it for a little while, but then warn her if she continues hitting me, I am going to have to fight back. When she won't stop, I hit her and throw her around just enough to make her stop hitting me. The problem is, there are other people in the house, and I now have to try to explain things to them, so they don't think I'm a bully who beats up on women. Meanwhile, I am trying to walk out of the house, but as I make it out of the hallway and into the living room, there are two young, cute, Japanese anime-style school girls there, too young, but not dangerously so, at about 16-18, I'd guess. They are sitting there in short skirts and tight tops, school girl uniform type of things, sitting there, talking to each other. I stop to enjoy the view for a few seconds. One of them has dyed red hair and Japanese features, and has her shorts pulled aside to reveal her landing strip and slit, quite a distraction. She seems to be making out with the other girl and rubbing herself on her leg, and I really have to almost tear myself away to stop watching. I walk out the door of the house to find myself in a sort of cross between a hotel and a shopping mall. I am meeting Dale here before he has to leave and fly home to California [Dale hasn't been here since November, don't know why all these dreams about him going back to CA the last few nights when he hasn't even been here ...]. I'm trying to explain about the situation with mom, and how she's kind of getting nuts as she gets older, but he's really running late, packing very messily, and running out the door to try and avoid missing his plane, so he isn't really listening. I follow him out the door, calling for him to slow down, and quit moving like a giraffe on those long legs, and find him near the exit (half hotel, half theme park, now), talking to a guy he's run into that looks very familiar, but I just can't quite recognize him. [Looking back at the dream now, he looked a lot like Biff Tannen, the bully jock from the Back to the Future movies, with a hint of Truman's 'best friend' from The Truman Show thrown in.] I just realize I probably vaguely recognize him from some movie, and am about to ask him what I recognize him from, but Dale has run off again, so I have to hurry to catch up. I find him in the parking lot, just climbing into his rental car, and I ask him, did he pack everything? Does he need anything? He tells me that his new cell phone from Publix works really, really fast, and he's really happy with it. He also tells me he would really like me to make him a copy of some sort of DVD I have a some Disney stage shows (probably stuff I filmed using his camera) and the friend he is now with (who I don't know) also says he would like a copy. He runs off, and I suddenly find myself working a shift in the J.C. Penney warehouse. [Somewhere about here, I was half-woke by a text on my cell phone, which I assumed was probably from Dale (it was, btw), but I just drifted back to sleep and back to the dream, which may explain a little of what is to follow.] I find myself sort of flying around, working up at the loading docks where stuff is taken off the trucks and put on conveyor belts, then dropped from about 20 feet up, and we have to catch them, sort them, and put them on pallets. (In real life this would injure people and break stuff, but in dreams, I've had several like this in the last couple of years.) Annoyingly, I am not handling the regular stuff, but damaged returns, so instead of getting a box full of items, I am getting one of this thing, one of that, and I have to sort them into boxes with like items, making far more work, and they keep sending more and more stuff on the belts, and I am getting further and further behind, but they refuse to slow down. Soon there is so much stuff that it causes the entire system to collapse, with stuff scattered all over the place, the conveyor belt falling apart around me, and a very large flat screen TV hitting the ground and cracking open. There is a young punk manager here, and though the whole thing is his fault, he tells me he is going to place all the blame on me, and I am going to be fired for this, and I am just thinking this is so unfair, and wishing they had hidden cameras out on the floor to catch him bragging about how it was his fault, but I am going to take the blame, but I know they don't. No fair! Meanwhile, some of the broken crates that have fallen seem to be stuff of mine that I have packed up and stored, and I now find myself running around, trying to gather my stuff together, including several bits of clothes that include old security uniforms I haven't worn in years. By now I find myself out deep in the warehouse, among the tall racks of stock, all sorted on pallets and up in the air, except the space on the ground, the lowest rows, aren't filled with pallets, but all the associates' lockers, and as I am walking along, I spot one of them that has smoke gently rising from it. Something has caught fire. I am trying to call for help, and get somebody out here before things can spread, when I spot smoke rising from another locker a couple of rows away. And another. And another. There seems to be an arsonist running around, starting fires. There are several upper level employees running around trying to put them out, but I am helping out, acting as a spotter. As they continue, I can't help but notice the floors we're standing on are not tile, or even stone (which would make even more sense), but there is a strip of carpeting, a kind of a blue-green carpet, running the width of the aisle, and the entire length of the warehouse. As I am standing there, pointing at another burning locker, I am kind of shocked to find another associate swimming up to me in the carpet. He splashes some water up at the locker and puts out the fire, and even splashes a tiny bit at me. I am really in shock. He is swimming along like he is swimming laps, but I'm just standing on it ... nothing but carpet, to me. "How can you do that?" I ask, but he refuses to tell me, darn it! I can't help it ... I pull out my cell phone and start to text Dale and tell him what is going on in the warehouse, and I hope I will manage to catch him before he gets on his plane. As I continue, it slowly turns from a text into an e-mail, and I now seem to be typing on my laptop, which is easier, of course. But I am still getting annoyed because, though I can type quite fast (probably about 35 or 40 words a minute when I know what I want to say, even though I don't know how to touch type), there is a girl standing there, sending texts of her own, and she is somehow typing about 10 to 20 times as fast as me, which shouldn't be possible. In retaliation, I just start mashing the keys with both hands and even my arms, sending masses of complete gibberish to Dale, before I wake up. [And the moment I wake up, I check my cell phone and verify the text that half-woke me was, indeed from him, and immediately started texting him about the dream he almost woke me from, but since I only just woke up, half of that text was also gibberish. ] --- May 25, 2013 -- Somehow I have been visiting with Carolyn S., and was somehow even there last week when one of her sons (Carson, I think) graduated from elementary school [very odd, since all of her kids are already out of high school], though because of some sort of emergency or problem, Carolyn was not able to make it. She is very disappointed about this, and feels really bad about it. So when I am out doing stuff a couple of days later, and find myself in the right place at the right time, I decide to help out. I am somewhere in California, Garden Grove or Santa Ana or somewhere I know the major streets, but not well, and I realize I am really near Carson's school, so I decide to stop by and see if, even though the graduation has already happened, if there might be any more festivities Carolyn might be able to catch, to make up for missing the graduation. As I said, the overall area is Garden Grove or something, but when the bus drops me off at his school, it is an exact duplicate of Peter Marshall. I approach the kindergarten playground and classrooms, and there are a lot of other people wanting to speak to somebody as well, so it is fairly crowded. But as I am walking up, I realize that it is Sunday, so nobody is going to be here. [Never mind that if graduation was last week, school is over for the summer, anyway.] I comment on this, and several others realize I am correct, and start walking away. I am about to join them, when I glance back at the class rooms. Not only are there people on the playgrounds, but I can even see them in the classrooms through the windows, so even though it is Sunday, people are still here. I walk to the office, and find myself in a big line of people. I glance around, and there are five or six people working, and I remember when I was a kid at Marshall, and how there was only Ms Gurly and one teen working in here and managing everything. I can't imagine how they need so many people, now, but figure it must be much more record keeping because computers have made it so much 'easier' these days. Anyway, a couple of the people waiting in front of me in this huge line are pushy punks, and they start shoving me around a bit, until the staff gets angry, and orders us all to get out. They head out the door in front of me, and since they are now gone, I turn around at the last second and stay. Sine there is no more trouble, they let me. I find myself leaning against the wall next to the door to the principal's office, and there is a meeting going on in there with a lot of people. Unfortunately the door is broken, and I keep bumping it open and having to apologize. Meanwhile, I am playing with a couple of nails sticking out of the wall, and find myself backing away from several large spiders. (Large as in large types, wolf spiders, or wood spiders, perhaps, not something like huge spiders. just like an inch or two long.) They tell me not to worry about the spiders, and nobody seems to care, though they creep me out a little. Soon I finally have a chance to speak to the person in charge (who warns me they are still putting together the diplomas and mailing them out, and I can't collect it in person), and I say something like "I'm here on behalf of Carolyn S. Her son graduated a few days ago ... his name is ..." "Carson, yes. We were very proud of him ... such a shame what happened." "Wha?" "Oh, he went out and got drunk three days ago, and something happened, and now he is dead!" "But I just saw him ..." I continue to think ... four days ago! Oh no! Poor Carolyn. I am horrified. And about that time I wake up. --- May 25, 2013 -- [Even later in the morning ... but most of this one is missing. There was even more of this one, before the part I remember, and I think it involved looking for a nice restaurant.] There were bits about eating, and maybe a hint of balloon twisting that I can barely remember, but then I find myself getting home at the Hickory house. Mom is being a bit of a pest, but nowhere near as bad as in the first dream of the night. Carolyn S. is also here, and it is several days after the second dream. I know I ought to tell her how sorry I am to hear about her son, and apologize for my visit to his grade school, but she is running out to door for a balloon gig of her own. But just as she is exiting, she mentions that Carson was asking about me, yesterday. Turns out he is fine, and the woman at the school didn't have any idea what she was talking about. Weird. Meanwhile, I am walking to my second bedroom, and find that both the doors are open, and mom has been in there, messing with my stuff again. Darn it, I wish that woman would stay out of my room and leave my stuff alone! I walk in, and start glancing around to see what she might have messed with, and soon find myself playing some Runescape. It is half-live, half game, but I have no computer to play with. I soon find myself facing off against a huge troll or ogre, something along the lines of Bork, but not him. Problem is, I can't seem to touch him, but he sure seems to be able to touch me! Somebody sees me having problems, and calls over to me that the only thing he is weak to is the casting of bloom, but I don't have my druid pouch with me. Luckily, I do have my first ever cell phone, my old silver Sanyo flip phone, and I pull it out of my pocket, and start flipping through it to see if I might have any sort of Runescape app. Luckily I find one that allows me to cast bloom by pushing the 2 key, so I wait for the creature to attack me, hold the phone at him, mash the 2 key a few times, and a bright light comes out of the phone, and starts to injure him. I have to wait a little while before he recovers enough to try again, and we do the same thing. This goes on 10 or 12 times, and I've beaten him down to about half health, but unfortunately, I'm almost out of prayer, so I am not going to be able to cast bloom anymore. So I am struggling with the app to see if there is any way I can access my Ardy cloak to recharge my prayer points, but so far I haven't managed it. [In actuality, I would probably need the Falador shield, rather than the cloak.]
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