Thread: The Celestial Toyroom

3/24/2008

# 103: “An Insulting Guest”

I am having a conversation with Prof. J, my Intellectual Property professor. I have the sense that we have been talking for a long, long time. The setting of this talk and its context are not clear, but I have the sense that this conversation is long, perhaps endless.

I am listening to J talk for the most part, only occasionally contributing. I seem to be an assistant to J of some kind, rather than a student (as in RL). The professor is relating a story to me. The story involves a fellow law professor who J had invited over to his house. Professor J tells me that he felt that this professor had been very rude in some of his comments while visiting J’s home. I ask Professor J what he means.

“Well, he came in and he was making comments about my furniture and my other furnishings in a really condescending way,” J answers. “It was like he was trying to be nice but he couldn’t quite manage it because everything in my house was just so cheap. I thought that was very insulting.”

As J is telling me the story, I am picturing such a scenario in my mind, and I agree that it must have been infuriating. I ask J who the other professor was, and he is reluctant to tell me the name of the other professor. I continue to press the issue, and finally J relents, and tells me that the other professor was Y ( a real professor).

After J identifies the professor, something clicks in my head, and I identify this Y as the law review professor (true in RL). I ask J how he reacted to Y’s insulting manner, but the dream fades before I receive an answer.

3/27/2008

# 104: “Inappropriate Conduct in the Workplace”

I am a waiter in a restaurant. The restaurant looks like a cross between a cafeteria and a convenience store, and although this is nothing like my RL job, I think of it as such.

One side of the restaurant is a large, open area, while the other side is filled with pre-fabricated booths. Around the perimeter of the room are several racks of candy, cooler doors full of pop, and other convenience store-type fixtures.

I am working with a middle-aged woman who is wearing nothing but a blouse and a pair of black pantyhose, which I of course like. The woman is rather plain-looking: fairly slender, but not especially attractive. Nevertheless, I am growing increasingly attracted to the woman, and am totally distracted by thoughts of fucking her.

Eventually, the woman and I are alone in a short hallway. Even though I know it is wrong, I can’t help myself, and I suddenly lean forward and kiss her on the lips. She reacts angrily, pulling away.

“I knew it, I knew you were going to do that,” she says loudly, and I am instantly embarrassed and worried that someone will hear. “I’ve seen you staring at my legs all day!”

Even though I know that I am in the wrong, her words bother me, and I feel the need to defend myself.

“Well, if you knew it, you wouldn’t dress like this!” I retort, indicating her lack of pants. She sneers and walks away in a huff, and I am suddenly worried that I will get in trouble for what I have done.

4/3/2008 (A)

# 105: “Star-Struck While Catering”

I am at a large function of some kind. I’m either working at the function or I am a guest, but it seems as though my family is hosting the event. It is a fairly informal event, but I find myself concerned that the guests are not being serious enough.

The event is taking place in an immense room on a ship. There are tables scattered all over, and the far end of the room is dominated by a raised area surrounded by railings. I am standing near a large, long bar which is the serving area for both food and drink.

It is dinner time, and the guests are preparing to line up to eat. I am excited, and am looking forward to dinner. AJ, my best friend, is helping me. He is in charge of setting up food and drinks behind the bar. As I turn to help AJ, I see Edge at the far end of the bar. I am unsurprised to see Edge there, because I remember that he is an old family friend, though I can’t remember the details. Edge is standing near GB, my brother-in-law, and I think that maybe we know Edge through that side of the family.

I want to tell AJ that Edge is here, but he is no longer behind the bar. I go out into the vast sea of tables, looking for him. As I wander around, I notice that some of the tables are not set: some are only set for 3 people, some for 5. Others do not have the proper utensils, while others just have piles of silverware heaped in the center. I am angry, and am now even more anxious to find AJ because it was his job to set the tables.

I turn to scan the room for AJ, and see GM, one of my bosses at the my job, standing near me. GM has also noticed the slipshod places- settings, and follows me when I spot AJ. We confront him and tell him the he needs to set the tables better, and that everything looks bad.

“I think it looks fine.” AJ says innocently. GM and I are both exasperated, and GM turns and points to a table nearby, where the napkins have somehow been folded to look like cocks.

“Well AJ, do you really think this is appropriate for people when they’re about to eat?” GM asks, picking up one of the napkins. I am trying my hardest not to laugh, and I can tell that AJ is too. He sheepishly answers no.

“Well, fix it then.” GM says, and walks away. AJ and I start to walk around, fixing the table settings, when I remember what I had originally wanted to tell him.

“Oh yeah, Edge is here,” I say. “I think I should go tell him that his match at WrestleMania was awesome!”

“Yeah, probably.” AJ says, but without much enthusiasm. I leave him to handle the table settings, and head towards the bar. There is a kitchen behind the bar, and I walk in and see BA, one of the chefs from my job. BA is on top of the grill, curled up under a shelf, as though he had been put away for storage. I am momentarily surprised, but then rationalize it, figuring that, because we have such limited space in the kitchen, it must be his job to crouch in small places until needed. I try to decide if I should pull him out from under the shelf or not, but he suddenly pulls himself out and, after nodding hello, starts cooking.

I explain the Edge situation to him, and ask his opinion on whether I should go talk to him or not.

“Well yeah, man, just go tell him he had a great match,” he says.

“Well that’s the thing, I mean, yeah, I could tell him he had a great match and all that,” I say. “But I really want to talk to him about how the match was set up and the behind-the-scenes stuff. I don’t want him to think I’m faking it. Do you think he’ll get mad if I do that?”

BA considers for a few moments, than answer. “No, I don’t think so.” I leave the kitchen and walk over to one side of the room, which looks like it is the bridge area of the ship. I am heading over there to get more supplies for the kitchen, but I feel like I need to go talk to Edge before he leaves.

I am heading over to the bar to do just that when the dream transitions…

4/3/2008 (B)

# 106: “Rolling Witness”

I am driving on a winding road outside of my hometown. It is late at night, and I am heading home to my parents’ house from some sort of school function. “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” is playing on the radio, and I am signing along loudly.

I come around a curve and my headlights swing around to reveal a large red pick-up truck that is weaving all over the road, coming right at me. Just as I am about to swerve out of the way, the truck does what looks like a U-turn at high speed, and reverse direction. The driver loses control of the truck and it plows off the road and into a ditch, where it smashes into a tree.

I am shocked that I have just witnessed such a serious car accident. I turn on my emergency blinkers and pull over. As I am climbing out of my car, I see that the other driver is sitting in the truck, seemingly uninjured. I am about to approach him to make sure he is ok when I suddenly have an overwhelmingly sense of danger. My instincts are telling me to get out of there as quickly as possible. There is no rhyme or reason to this feeling, but I put the car back into gear and speed off.

I continue into my hometown. It is late at night, and although there are no other vehicles on the road, people are lining either side of the street. The first thing I notice is a group of three or four women dressed as prostitutes. They are running around playfully in the middle of the street, and I slow down as I pass them so that I do not hit them. As I am passing them, one of the prostitutes suddenly jumps in front of my car, and I have to swerve to avoid hitting her. The others start screaming at me threateningly, and I speed off as they give chase on foot.

I leave the angry prostitutes behind, and drive past a trailer park. As I pass, I happen to see what looks like a man stabbing a woman repeatedly in the stomach with a pocket knife. He is holding her by the shoulder with one hand and thrusting the blade into her abdomen. Time seems to slow down as I drive by, as I am able to observe an amazing amount of detail. I am suddenly afraid that the man will have noticed me watching, and will come after me. I speed up and drive away, pulling out my cellphone.

I dial 911, and report what I have just seen. I tell the dispatcher where I was, and that I saw what looked like a man stabbing a woman. To my surprise, the operator is very unprofessional, and seems unconcerned about the seriousness of the situation.

Eventually, however, she seems to understand what I am telling her, and grows serious. She asks me where I am and if I am still in the car. She asks me if I’d like the police to come get me and escort me home. I tell her that I will be ok, and that I’ll just go home instead.

After I hang up, I realize that I have slowed down while talking on the phone. I worry that the man will have been following and may have caught up to me by now. I glance in the rearview mirror, sure that I will seem him running up behind me, but he is not there. To be safe, I turn my headlights off and turn off onto a side street, before heading back to my parents’ house.

4/5/2008

# 107: “Unprepared in Class”

I am sitting in what looks like an older lecture hall or classroom. The room is vast, and I am sitting in one of the very back rows, high above the center of the room. A class is in session, and I gradually recognize it as Comparative Law (a current class in RL that I blow off often).

EA is sitting next to me. I seem to have forgotten my textbook, and am doodling on a yellow legal pad instead of paying attention. I am only vaguely listening to what is going on in the lecture, when I am startled by the professor suddenly screaming at another student.

I watch as the professor yells wildly at a student near the front of the room who has apparently not been listening and is instead reading a newspaper. The professor charges over to the student and violently rips the paper out of his hands, and tells the student to get the hell out of the professor’s classroom.

I am suddenly extremely worried about the professor noticing my lack of attention or preparedness for class. I begin to overcompensate by obsessively taking notes, trying to write down every word of the lecture. Meanwhile, the professor continues to rant down at the front of the room, saying that the class needs to shape up. I glance over at EA and see that she is more prepared for class than I: her textbook is open to the correct page and her notebook is filled with legitimate notes. Nevertheless, EA looks almost as uncomfortable as I do.

Class is dismissed for a short break, and I walk home to what I think of as my apartment (looks nothing like my RL apartment). It is located on an extremely steep hill, and I struggle to get up to the front door. Eventually I do, and I decide to go to the gym. I begin to search for my bag in the apartment, but cannot find it. This bothers me a great deal because I feel it is very important to get to the gym at that time.

5/3/2008

# 108: “Midnight Madness Bowling”

I am in a bowling alley that has a dingy, fairly grungy look. I am supposed to be working in the snack bar, which is located at the extreme end of the bowling alley. I have the sense that it is late at night, perhaps one or two in the morning. Despite the late hour, the bowling alley is packed with people bowling.

The bowling lanes look to be extremely elongated; from my perspective, the pins seem to be miles away, they are so tiny. At the bowlers’ end of the lanes, there are a pair of black handrails, similar to what would be found on a treadmill or elliptical machine. I think this is strange, and then rationalize that these railings are there for the bowlers to steady themselves.

I am at the opposite end of the bowling alley from the snack bar, and I begin to walk towards it, ready to resume working. As I pass a group of bowlers on a lane, something I do causes one of them to be distracted, and he begins to verbally berate me. The bowler is a middle-aged man, fat and out of shape. I walk right up into the slob’s face, and tell him that if he says one more word, I will kill him. He immediately backs down, and I continue walking, feeling a strong sense of pride.

I eventually reach the snack bar, which isn’t busy at all. I remember that I am the only one working tonight. I go behind the bar and into the back room. The back room is dark and dingy, and is dominated by a huge machine. This machine is insanely complicated, with many gears, dials and pistons in motion around it. I have the sense that this machine is at the center of everything that happens inside the bowling alley.

I step closer to the machine, and see that it is covered by a thick layer of grease, nearly an inch thick. It occurs to me that the machine is in need of repair, but I don’t feel at all qualified to do it. Nevertheless, I return to the back room several times in between customers, trying to repair it.

Nearly all of the customers I serve at the snack bar seem to have really bad attitudes. JR shows up, and he is in a good mood. We talk for a while, and I ask him what he thinks about the lanes being so long at this bowling alley. He shrugs and mentions something about “tournament style-regulations”. JR leaves and I return to the other customers.

5/6/2008

# 109: “Judgment Night in the Motor City”

I somehow have managed to get tickets for a wrestling show at the Pontiac Silverdome in Detroit. The seats are right at ringside, and I am excited to go.

AJ goes to the show with me, and we arrive early. The place is packed, but for some reason our sections seems to be really sparsely populated.

We take our seats, and I see that the wrestlers will be walking right by us to get to the ring. I’m getting ready to heckle the guys.

The first match of the night is John Cena vs. Ric Flair. The crowd seems angry that Ric Flair is already wrestling again after retiring in March, and they boo him mercilessly. They also boo for Cena, and the match is shitty.

Next, Hulk Hogan’s music hits, and the crowd goes wild, though I am booing heavily. Hogan makes his way to the ring and I run up to the barrier right as he passes by.

“You suck, you fucker,” I scream, while thrusting two middle fingers directly in his face. Hogan sees me and even stops momentarily, looking at me angrily. He composes himself and walks on, and I think the confrontation is over. Suddenly, Hogan stops again and walks back towards me. I see him coming and resume flicking him off.

“Yeah, you trying to make yourself famous or something?” AJ asks. Before I can answer, Hogan grabs me and pulls me over the barrier. I am kind of laughing as he drags me towards the ring, and I assume that he is going to make me get into the ring with him and try to humiliate me. Instead, he changes directions before we reach the ring, and drags me towards a large, gray folding door. As we approach the door opens, and I see that the door leads out of the arena. Hogan throws me through the door, and by the time I get back to my feet, the door has slid shut.

I look around me and see that I am in a very, very bad part of Detroit. What intact windows I see are barred, the rest broken or boarded up. Trash litters the dirty asphalt, and graffiti covers the walls around me. As well as being trashed, the area looks ruined, as if a bomb had gone off years ago and the wreckage just left. I see what looks like a ruined piece of the Silverdome itself off to my left.

“That little fucker,” I say aloud, referring to Hogan. “I could get killed out here!” I start walking, trying to find my way back inside the Silverdome. As well as not wanting to get killed, I also want to make it back inside the stadium in time for the end of Hogan’s match, so I can heckle him on his way to the back, too.

5/7/2008

# 110: “Keeping Kayfabe”

I am a traveling salesman or delivery driver of some sort. As the dream begins, I am driving a large delivery truck to an arena. I have the sense that I have to deliver my load to the back of the arena. As I approach the arena, I realize that a wrestling show is going on inside, and I am excited that I will probably get to see the backstage area as I make my delivery.

The arena is very old, rundown and dingy. It reminds me of the grandstand at my local fairgrounds. I circle the arena, and approach the rear loading dock. I remember that this is an older show that I am going to see, from the early 90’s. I think to myself that I will be able to see some of the older guys like Paul Bearer.

I park the truck behind the arena and begin to walk. The wrestlers are hanging out behind the arena, in a roped-off area with picnic tables, tents, large grills, and horse troughs filled with ice and beverages. Before I notice any wrestlers I know, I see a long line of people slowly snaking into one of the large entryways into the arena.

I draw nearer to the line of people, and realize that they are not fans, but the actual wrestlers. Most are dressed in street attire, and I decide that they must be lining up to get ready for the show inside. Near the back of the line I see Paul Bearer and the Undertaker, both dressed in their early-90’s ring attire, and I think how cool it is to see this after so many years.

“I bet Paul Bearer will thrust the urn at me and say something weird and act creepy,” I think to myself. No sooner have I had the thought than Bearer does exactly that.

“Ohhhhh yessssssss,” Bearer says, completely in character. Undertaker is also in character, standing stoically behind his manager. I am impressed that they both are staying in character, even backstage, when I realize that I must be seen as an outsider. I keep walking up the line as the dream fades.

4/14/2008

# 111: “Billy Madison”

I am back in what I think is an elementary school class, possibly 3rd or 4th grade, although I am my current self. I feel very strange and self-conscious, although no one else seems to notice or care that a 24 year-old man is sitting in a classroom.

At one point, I am forced to stand up and introduce myself to the class. I am naturally nervous and embarrassed, but I stand up regardless.

“Well, I remember my first time going through this grade,” I begin, but then I stop, because I have the feeling that I am not supposed to reveal to the class that I’m not really a child. My embarrassment remains, though I am becoming increasingly curious why no one else seems to notice or care that I am there.

4/25/2008

# 112: “Mystery Opponent”

I am wandering around what seems to be an underground, industrial area. There are pipes, metal catwalks and concrete fixtures everywhere I look, and the lighting is dim.

I think of the area as the basement of the restaurant where I work. There is a party or event going on upstairs, and I am attending it as a guest. I am wandering around the basement because I am supposed to meet a girl at a certain place.

I hurry to a large room with a deep, fast-moving channel of water flowing down the middle of it. I settle down to wait for the girl, and notice that I am wearing a black tuxedo. I suddenly remember that there are three different girls that I may be meeting up with: two attractive girls who are to be my date for the party upstairs, and a third girl who I think of as the “Women’s Fighting Champion” for the restaurant. I know that if this girl shows up, I’m supposed to fight her.

I’m waiting and growing more impatient and uneasy. I don’t know if I will be able to fight this girl. An attractive woman in her late 20s or early 30s enters the room across from me. She is wearing a very nice blue evening gown and short blonde hair. I smile, thinking that she must be one of the girls that I am supposed to go to the party with. I walk towards her, and she attacks me suddenly!

I am shocked, and realize that this woman must be the Women’s Fighting Champion that I have to face. I fight back, and we roll around on the ground, grappling. I manage to hook in a gogoplata, and she quickly taps out…just as one of the other women runs into the room.

This second woman, also dressed in an elegant gown, sees what is happening and yells out “What are you doing, that’s your date for the night!” I release the hold immediately, filled with guilt and concern, because the gogoplata is a fairly dangerous hold. I am trying to decide if I had misinterpreted the situation, or if the woman had actually attacked me like I thought. I can’t understand what happened.

4/26/2008

# 113: “A Busy Night”

I have a busy night ahead of me. I have to attend a funeral with my sister, and I also have tickets for a RAW taping on one side of a river. The funeral is on the other side of the river. AE is going with me to the RAW taping.

I go to the funeral with my sister and some little kids that she is babysitting. We stay for a little while (I have the sense that the funeral is not for someone I knew well, if at all). Finally, I leave the funeral and drive over a bridge to the city where the RAW taping is being held. I meet AE outside of the venue, and we go inside.

We have really good seats. At about 5 pm the show starts, three hours early. I am watching the dark matches when I look over to the end of the aisle. I see my mom and a teenaged boy sitting there, sharing a pitcher of beer and talking. I am somewhat surprised to see my mom there, but I don’t go over to talk to her.

There is an intermission, and several people come out to the ring and line up hundreds of cups of juice and dozens of pizzas around the edge of the ring, under the ropes. Again, I think this is strange, but dutifully follow the crowd down around the ring, where we all take some pizza and a cup of juice.

After the pizza intermission, I remember that I have to be at the funeral by 6:30, and that I am probably cutting it close. I seem to have forgotten that I already went to the funeral, or maybe this is a different one. Either way, I rush out of the venue and jump in my car. The wrestling event seems to be located somewhere in a hilly, wooded park. I begin to drive, mindful that I am close to being late for the funeral. After a few minutes of driving on the winding park roads, I realize that I have been going in circles and am lost. I look at the clock and see that I only have 5 minutes before the funeral starts.

I check my phone and see that I have received a text message from my sister. It reads: “We’re going to the gravesite; I’ll see you there.” I keep driving, and eventually recognize my surroundings: I am near my old high school. I check my gas gauge and see that I am almost on empty. I pull into the gas station, and run inside to pre-pay. For some reason, I forget that I need gas, and only buy a bottle of water. I hear the bell over the door, and turn to see Jim Ross and another man walk in. I immediately realize that Ross is headed to the same funeral I am.

“Hey, Jim, do you know where this funeral is at,” I ask Ross, as if we are old friends.

“Yeah, it’s over at [local Catholic school], at the cemetery behind it,” Ross says. “Now make sure, and this is really important, I’ve done this before. Make sure you introduce your wife to the priest, because they get really offended if you don’t.”

I tell him I understand [I'm not married in RL]. We continue talking, and suddenly we are no longer in the convenience store, but are sitting in a room with two chairs.

We continue our conversation, the funeral forgotten about. Suddenly, Ross is sucked back into his chair, and then pushed out again, breaking his neck in the process. It looks like something out of a Japanese horror film, and I am shocked and frightened.

I run out of the building and look for my car. It is fully dark out now, with pools of light from streetlamps dotting the area. I spot my car parked in a darkened area of the lot, and I run towards it. I slow as I approach, having noticed that the back driver’s side door is hanging open. I cautiously approach, thinking that someone or something is going to be in the backseat. I look in the backseat, but nothing is there. Relieved, I slam the door closed and get in the driver’s seat. As I drive away, I see on the dash clock that it is 7:30.

I still don’t know where this funeral is, and I decide that I’d better just return to the RAW taping so that I don’t miss the show. I head back to where the show is, but I realize I have somehow crossed the river and am now on the Illinois side. I have to find the bridge to get back over the river, but I can’t. I drive around in a dingy downtown area for what seems like hours, but I can never find the bridge.

As I search for the bridge, I realize that I am in a pretty seedy, dangerous part of town. It’s then that I notice that I am running on empty, because I had forgotten to get gas earlier. I decide that I had better stop for gas, but all of the stations I pass are advertising $6-a-gallon gas. I decide I’d rather backtrack to the gas station where the gas is cheaper. The dream ends.

5/1/2008

# 114: “God in a Flying Ambulance”

I’m hanging out with JA. It is a normal day, after school at my parent’s house. JA tells me he has to leave, and I suddenly remember that I have to drop something off at my mom’s job (old job; she doesn’t work there anymore IRL). I’m taking a fairly scenic route, mostly side-streets, to get there.

I’m at the intersection of L and M Streets, waiting for the light. Out of the corner of my eye I see an ambulance that seems to be floating approximately 12 feet over the ground. Naturally, I’m shocked by this strange sight. I fumble my camera out of my pocket, and begin to take pictures of the strange sight. As it proceeds down Lombard, the ambulance seems to float higher and higher. I continue to take pictures until the ambulance is out of sight.

I eagerly look at the pictures on my phone. To my dismay, the first few shots show the ambulance driving normally on the ground, wheels to pavement. As the pictures progress, the ambulance is replaced by an angel, radiant with light, that is slowly ascending to the heavens.

I’m amazed at the pictures, and I pretty much forget that I had earlier seen a flying ambulance. I can’t wait to tell people and show the pictures; I feel as though I have proof that God exists.

I go home, forgetting about my earlier errand. JA comes over, and I show him the pictures. To my surprise, he seems casual about them, almost unimpressed.

“I thought you said the ambulance was flying,” he says. JA’s reaction is fairly typical; I tell my parents and my sister to rousing disinterest.

5/2/2008

# 115: “Wolfenstein 4-D”

I am playing a video game in an arcade. The perspective is not stable; at first I am myself, playing the game and later I am the character within the game.

The game appears to be an updated version of Wolfenstein 3-D, and old game from when I was in elementary school. When I am playing the game, the main character appears to be Jeff Hardy. When I am inside the game, I am the main character, though I am with a companion who seems to be doing most of the work.

My companion and I are walking around the game world, pushing a shopping cart full of beer bottles in front of us. When an enemy appears, instead of shooting him, my companion grabs a bottle, shakes it, and sprays the bad guy with the resulting foam. This seems to do the trick. I am armed with a shotgun, and am using that to kill the bad guys.

Overall, my companion and I are very aimless, and we seem to be just wandering around with no goal or objective.

5/4/2008

# 116: “Quiet Communication”

I am in my parents’ house at night. Everything is very quiet, and I am unsure if anyone is home. I am looking for my dad because I need to speak with him about something. I look everywhere, before finally looking in my old bedroom. The room appears just as it did when I lived there in my early childhood (unlike in RL, where it is now a study).

My dad is in the room, sitting at a card table which is set up in the middle of the room. The top of the table is protected by a layer of old newspapers. On the table are several pots of model paint, paint-thinner, small paintbrushes, and other modeling accoutrements. My dad is painting something with the supplies.

I walk in and sit down across the table from him. Neither of us says anything, though there seems to be an unspoken communication going on. I silently grab a paintbrush and begin to paint along with him, though I never really know what it is we are working on.

Suddenly, I am sitting in the backseat of my dad’s old Honda Civic. My sister is sitting next to me, and my parents are in the front seats. We are driving in my hometown. I have the sense that we are going out to dinner together.

The radio is tuned to an AM talk station, and the host is talking about how JF, a local radio personality, had done a recent show slamming the radio station for not being as good as it once was. The host was talking about what a big, groundbreaking deal this was. The whole family is quiet in the car, listening to this program very intently.

5/6/2008

# 117: “Hell in a Cell Virgin”

I am in a meeting at school, and I am extremely worried because I have just remembered that I was supposed to have been attending either a Band or Gym class every Monday night during the semester, and I have not been going. I am sure that I will be failing these classes, and I am very concerned about my grades.

Suddenly, I remember that I am supposed to appear in a wrestling match tonight. I leave the meeting and realize that I have about an hour and a half before show time. I am anxious to get to the show early, because I know it is considered disrespectful to be late. My partner and I get into an SUV and head for the show.

I’m booked in a tag-team Hell in a Cell match with The Rock as a Special Guest Referee. The show is being held at what I think of as my high school gym. This is my first wrestling match. My partner is a fellow law student named MB (barely know him in RL).

Although I have never wrestled before, I know that I have appeared on television several times to promote the match and build the angle. Despite my excitement and nervousness, I am somewhat surprised that such a huge match was being held at a house show in a high school gym.

We finally arrive at the high school where the show is at. I recognize it as my former high school (looks nothing like it in RL). The school has two gym; in the larger one, the crew is setting up the ring and other stuff. The wrestlers are congregating in the smaller gym. There is also a band concert being performed somewhere in the school, and I have a nagging feeling that I am supposed to be at it.

After deciding to skip the band concert, I move around the small gym, introducing myself to the other wrestlers. After speaking with most of the roster, I approach Triple H, who gives me a dirty look.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he says, a sneer on his face. I’m surprised, angry and a little scared by his reaction; I’m worried that I’ve done something wrong.

“I’m sorry, sir,“ I begin, but he cuts me off with a wave of his hand and an irritated look on his face.

“I was trying to avoid you,” he says, but then gives a laugh, as though the whole thing had been a joke. I laugh uneasily, and he motions me to move on.

I finish introducing myself to the crew, and am standing off to the side by myself when I realize that I do not have my wrestling gear. I remember that I had left my gear at my house, but in my rush to get to the venue on time I had forgotten to pick it up. I also realize that my tag team partner is no where in sight. I decide that he must have stayed back at the law school (even though we both had driven to the venue.)

I decide to go look for him. For some reason, I’m convinced that the meeting we were at earlier is now going on inside the high school. I wander the halls for a bit looking for him, before almost running into him while rounding a corner.

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” I say excitedly. “I forgot my gear at home, do you have any spare stuff I can use?”

“Yeah, sure,” he says in a nonchalant fashion. I am surprised at his lackadaisical attitude, but don’t have time to dwell on it. We begin walking, and I try to decide what to wear for the match. As in other wrestling dreams, I decide to go with the IRS look: dress shirt, tie and black slacks. I tell this to MB, and he nods.

We approach a woman taking clothes out of one of the lockers lining the hallway. MB stops, and so do I.

“Here, Julie’s got clothes in her locker,” he says, and then walks off. I’m pissed, thinking that he isn’t taking things seriously. Then I decide that Julie might have something in her locker after all, so I approach her and we start looking.

After several fruitless minutes, I decide to just wear what I’m wearing, and go with a beach-bum gimmick. I’m also concerned about my finishing move. I had decided to use a Tombstone, but when talking it over with one of my opponents, he indicated that we were probably not allowed to do such a move. I also was worried about stealing Undertaker’s finisher.
Finally, I decide on a Half-Boston Crab/Ankle Lock combination (I had discussed such a move with JA in RL recently).

I return to the wrestler’s area, and find someone in authority to clear my finisher with them. I try to explain what the move is, but they don’t seem to understand me. Finally, I tell them to just get on the ground and I will demonstrate it. He does, and I apply the hold.

“Well, it’s pretty much what Kurt did, but he’s gone, so I guess it’s ok,” he says, getting to his feet.

“It’s a submission finisher, but I have another one for pinfalls,” I say, and he asks what it is. My mind draws a blank, and I can’t answer him.

5/12/2008

# 118: “Prepping the Restaurant”

I am working in a restaurant as a server/bartender. This restaurant is located in what I think is a local mall in a fairly isolated corner of the mall. The place looks a lot like my RL restaurant.

One of the managers is a very fat man. Another manager is a fairly attractive, middle-aged woman who I like. We are trying to concentrate on little things like fixing the tablecloths, updating the phone book ad, and other details of the restaurant.

5/18/2008

# 119: “At Work and Play in Vegas”

I am a bartender in a club in Las Vegas. The club itself looks a lot like my RL job, though the lighting and clientele is very different.

I am absolutely swamped at the bar; the people are three or four deep and I also have several tables in the lounge to worry about. I am almost overwhelmed; I can tell that I am forgetting orders and people, and it is bothering me.

Suddenly, I am with a group of people. I know that work has ended, and that these are the people I had traveled to Las Vegas with. The group includes my parents, my sister, JA, DN and KF (two friends I’ve not seen in years in RL). JJ and her parents are there, too.

It seems to be early in the morning; the casinos are at a low ebb. I had made a lot of money working the bar earlier, so I decide to gamble a little. I walk around the casino for awhile, eventually finding a basketball shooting game, the kind of thing that would be found in an arcade or on a carnival midway. I decide to try my luck, and approach the game.

I’m not doing very well at all, and I am getting increasingly frustrated. An older man who I recognize as one of the group I am with wanders back, and begins to give me shit about “wasting my money” on such a bad game. Because I am already upset and embarrassed at losing, I feel a flash of anger. I leave the game and the old man wanders off.

I’m walking through the main area of the casino and I run into JJ's family. I ask them where the rest of the group is, particularly my family.

“They’re around, but we’re supposed to watch you,” JJ's mother says. I understand her to mean that they are supposed to babysit me. I don’t dwell on the absurdity of the notion, and tell them that I am going to be playing in the casino, even though I don’t want to spend all of my money today.

JJ's dad speaks up, suggesting that I go on a “car tour” to kill some time and keep me out of the casino. He also tells me that everyone else is already taking the tour. I agree, and head for the car tour, JJ's family in tow.

The tour is located in a large building. The idea behind it is that a rich man who collected cars has set it up so that a tour goes around, looking at the cars.

I meet up with my parents, and my mom asks me if I’m going to change. I am still wearing my uniform from the bar. I ask her why I need to change.

“Well, this is a big deal, this is a fancy thing,” she says, referring to the car tour. “You need to go upstairs and change!”

This kind of bothers me, but I tell them that I am going upstairs to change and that I’ll be right back. There is a time crunch; the tour is about to start. I sprint out to the lobby, which looks like a typical Las Vegas resort lobby: plush carpet, gold trip, lots of red, mirrors, etc. I run around for awhile before finally locating a bank of gold elevators. I take one of the elevators up to the floor, and find my room

The room is a large suite, with several bedrooms. I remember that we are all sharing the suite; KF and I are sharing a bedroom. I rush into my room, and begin to sort through my clothes, trying to decide what to wear. After a great deal of deliberation, I decide on an outfit, and get changed. I step into the bathroom to fix my hair.

The bathroom is large and strangely designed. Instead of sinks, there is an extremely long marble countertop with a six inch-deep trough cut into the middle, which serves as the sink. There are dozens of different sized and shaped faucets and nozzles lining the countertop, as well as sliding portions that open to reveal various drains and other accoutrements. I begin to fix my hair as the dream fades.

5/27/2008

# 120: “Tournament”

I am in a trial advocacy tournament with members of my old team, including AE, WB, JH, and JV. My old coaches WR and SN are with me as well.

We are walking down a hallway in a typical university building. A door opens ahead of us, and a member of an opposing team steps out. I remember that this person is very arrogant and disliked by the team, and I decide to say something to him.

“Dude, you’re a douche-nozzle,” I say, and he quickly ducks back into the classroom. The group breaks out laughing, with JH being nearly hysterical, slapping me on the back and crying because she is laughing so hard.

We continue to wander the halls of the building, looking for our next trial venue.

5/28/2008

# 121: “The Night Shift”

I am working at a hotel that I think is the one where I work in real life. Instead of bartending, I seem to be a security guard or something, as I am there overnight and am dealing with whatever comes up. There are other people with me that I think of as fellow employees, including JZ, my old boss (who I have a huge crush on in RL).

The hotel looks very different from RL. It seems to have an old German theme, as the décor is heavy on exposed oak beams. The whole place has the look of a beer garden.

I ask JZ if she wants to get a drink. I can’t hear her response, and she wanders away. I’m left with EH (an old employee who I also had a thing for in RL). EH and I walk around the hotel for awhile, and eventually find an empty room. We go inside the room and start making out heavily.

A phone rings nearby, and I tell EH that I’ll be right back. I wander into the next room, which contains the bar and restaurant area. The lights are off and it is clear that the bar and restaurant are closed, because it is so late at night. I finally locate the ringing telephone behind the bar, and answer it. To my surprise, it is a guest wishing to make reservations. I am surprised and angry that my make-out session with EH had been interrupted by a guest wishing to make reservations at 3 in the morning. I try to explain to the woman that I don’t take reservations, but she is very insistent and pushy, and I finally agree to take them, but I don’t actually write them down.

I return to the room, but EH is gone. I’m not upset, however, because I am pretty sure that I’m going to have drinks with JZ soon. The dream fades soon after.

5/29/2008 (A)

# 122: “The Deserted Casino”

I am in a casino with JA. I sense that my family is nearby as well, but they are no where in sight. The casino seems to be deserted; no one is around and many of the machines and tables are in disrepair. I notice that most of the slot machines look more like arcade games than gambling devices. Also, the décor is not typical of a casino; the walls and carpet are plain, and the overall feel of the place is a dingy utilitarianism.

JA and I are looking for a particular machine, a video slot machine that we have won money from in the past. After a long search through the rows of dilapidated devices, we find the machine we are looking for.

The machine appears to be turned off, and we are both disappointed. I’m sure that we won’t have a chance to play, when suddenly the machine lights up, sounds play, and the machine seems to be come operational. I step forward and feed a few bills into the slot, and the machine makes a grinding noise, as though something was seriously wrong. I’m angry, sure that the machine has eaten my money, when the grinding noise stops and the game seems to return to normal.

We begin playing, oblivious to the emptiness around us. YS is suddenly with us. She walks over to a door marked “RESTRICTED” that is a few feet away, and knocks on the door. She doesn’t receive a response, and knocks again. When her knock is not answered, she turns the know and pushes the door open

I am surprised, wondering what the hell she thinks she is doing. I am sure that security is going to appear from nowhere and pounce on her, but nothing happens. YS walks into the room, into what appears to be a fairly mundane office. A man is standing in the office, and Yvonne approaches him. She hands him her purse (I assume to hold for her until later), turns and walks back out of the office, closing the door behind her.

5/29/2008 (B)

# 123: “Repeating Fire”

I am in my parents’ house, and there seems to be no one home. I walk into their bedroom, and see that the sheets are off of the bed, and the mattress pad is on fire on one side of the bed. I freak out, and quickly work to put the fire out. I manage to stop the fire, and am surprised that no one in my family (who are all there now) seems to be shaken up at all.

My sister asks me if I will go to her job and pick something up for her. I tell her “sure”, and get into my car and drive out of town into the country.

As I’m driving, I pass a hilltop wedding reception hall, a picturesque building that I recognize from previous dreams (though I don’t become lucid). I turn to my mom, who is now riding in the passenger seat, and tell her that I recognize the place and that it is a “nice place for a wedding reception.” She agrees, and I continue driving past the place, slowly. On the side of the road up ahead, I see a few overweight people dressed in tuxedos and dresses. I assume they are waiting for a reception to start.

Eventually, I reach a place that I think of as my sister's job. It is a large building, with a very modern, open floor plan. The place seems to be deserted, and I realize that it is almost night time.

I walk down a very tightly-wound spiral staircase leading to the bottom floor. Rows of desks stretch out in all directions. I somehow know that my sister’s desk is in this area, and I begin to search the desks, noticing that each desk bears a nametag. I search for her name on the nametags, but cannot find her. Suddenly, I remember that my sister now has a different last name, it is now “Lebowski”, because she has gotten remarried. (Not true in RL. This mirrors a RL situation, where I sometimes forget that my sister’s last name is no longer the same as mine.)

I eventually find my sister’s desk, and approach it. The desk is a mess, with stacks of papers and other things spread around and on the chair. I find what I was sent to get, and return to my car.

After returning home, I go into my parents’ room. I want to ensure that the bed has stopped burning. Sure enough, as I approach the open door, I can see that the same side of the bed is burning wildly, and the fire is spreading.

“Fire,” I yell out, panicked. I run into the room, and immediately see that the fire is much worse than before. I run into my parents’ bathroom to get water to put the fire out. I am mystified that no one else in the family seems to be responding to the emergency. I yell out again that there is a fire, and my mom walks into the room nonchalantly.

“Oh, it’s just from me,” she says, and walks out. I wake up before I can put the fire out.

6/1/2008

# 124: “Epic Chair Race”

I’m with AE, and we are about to mess around. I’m somewhat surprised, because AE has a boyfriend, but it doesn’t seem to be an issue for her. Also, she looks like she did when I first met her in 2004.

We go into my bedroom, and she suddenly tells me to leave the room so that she can change. I say sure, and go out into the living room. While I’m waiting, my phone rings and I answer it. I recognize the caller as KS, a coworker (not attracted to in RL). I remember that KS and I have discussed messing around in the past (not true in RL). KS and I decide to meet later on for sex, and I’m excited about this development.

I hang up the phone and suddenly remember that I am supposed to be at work soon. I knock on my door and tell AE that I can’t do anything with her right now, as I’m supposed to be at work. She opens the door and steps out, full dressed.

“That’s cool, I shouldn’t be doing this anyway,” she says, and leaves.
I arrive at work and my boss tells me that I have to bartend at the local grocery store (?). I’m not happy about this, but I agree. I go to the grocery store, which looks like the one I worked at as a kid. The “bar” is actually the customer service and photo counter combined: a long, low counter with very few supplies and almost no liquor.

I see that I’m working with BK, which I’m happy about. We start getting busy, with dozens of customers lining up at the bar. Many of the customers are asking for drinks that we aren’t equipped to make, or they are asking for drinks I have never heard of. BK is working very slowly and not being helpful at all, and I’m getting angry. The rush continues, and I fall behind. I’m forgetting people’s orders and basically am unable to keep up. Finally, I’m fed up with the situation. I walk up to BK, who is making a grasshopper at one end of the bar.

“I have to leave, I can’t handle this shit,” I say, grabbing BK’s arm. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“Well, I’m closing dude, so you can leave if you want,” he says, not looking up from the blender. Before he can change his mind, I walk out from behind the bar and head for the employee’s lounge upstairs.

I pass two guys I recognize on my way upstairs: DB, a fellow employee, and The Big Show, a wrestler. I remember that KS, the girl I’m meeting up with later, is dating The Big Show.

“Hey, you gotta go talk to Accounting on the third floor,” DB says. For some reason, this worries me, even though I have no idea what it could mean. I continue up the steps and walk out of a door, onto what looks like the third floor of the law school. Before I go to see the accountants, I decide to use the restroom.

I walk into the restroom and stand at a urinal. To my left is a mirror, and when I look at it, it somehow provides and angled view into the women’s restroom on the floor above me. In the mirror I can see MW and KS standing at urinals. They are both dressed for work, and they seem to be talking about me, although I can’t quite hear what they’re saying.

I finish my business and walk outside the bathroom, looking for the Accounting office. I wander around for a while without success, before running into MW. I ask her if she has any idea why the accountants want to see me.

“I think it has something to do with a Danish and a muffin,” she says, and walks away. Thanks to MW, I suddenly understand why they want to see me (means nothing in RL). I continue searching for the office, but I never find it. I pull out my phone and try to send text messages to some people, but my phone doesn’t seem to be working right. No matter what message I type out, just before I hit send, the text will change to whatever message I last sent. Because of this, I almost send a text to The Big Show that would have exposed my plans with his girlfriend!

Later, I’m hanging out with a group of people, including MW, NE and KS. We’re driving in my car in New York and it is night out. I can tell by the sky that it is going to begin snowing soon. Up ahead, I see a rent-a-cop attempting to pull over a car, which ignores it. The rent-a-cop tries to pull in front of the other car, and the driver of the other car sticks a pistol out the window and opens fire on the rent-a-cop.

I’m freaked out, and jerk the wheel, taking an exit ramp to get away from the violence. This exit ramp leads us towards New Jersey. Traffic thickens, and before long we are moving at a standstill. I look around and realize that we are no longer in my car; we are now all sitting on individual, wheeled seats that we are propelling forward with our feet like office chairs. I think this is strange, but no one else seems to care, so I don’t say anything. After a few more minutes of sitting in traffic, I speak up, trying to get a laugh.

“Hey, you guys just want to go to New Jersey,” I ask. “Isn’t that what New Yorkers do when they’re bored, go to New Jersey?” Everyone kind of laughs, but it’s clear that everyone is pretty bored with the drive. KS is sitting next to me, wearing a very sexy black cocktail dress. I lean over towards her, dropping my voice.

“So, are we still on for later,” I ask, referring to our earlier plans to hook up. She looks around, as if to make sure the others can’t hear her.

“Yeah, but I really don’t want to cheat on Big Show,” she whispers. I’m disappointed, but think that I still might have a shot.

“Well, I’ll understand if not, just let me know,” I say. She smiles and we continue “driving.” As before, it is night, but the sky is an odd purple color, and although the temperature is cold, no one seems to feel it. There are strange lights in the sky on the horizon, as if there was a large city just out of sight.

We drive up next to a group of stereotypical college guys, who seem to be out on a road trip or something. Like us, they’re stuck in traffic, barely moving. They’ve parked their car and are sitting on the hood, drinking beer. I look down and see that I’m drinking a glass of wine, which I hadn’t noticed earlier. We start talking to the college guys, and everyone is having a good time. I suddenly realize that I’m driving a “car” with an open container of alcohol. I throw the glass of wine on the ground suddenly and it shatters, which causes NE to burst out into hysterical laughter.

Traffic starts moving and we resume mulling ourselves along by our feet. Eventually, we all get tired of our slow progress, so we call pick up our chairs and start running with them, passing the other people who are pushing themselves along. We’re looking for a place to turn around so that we can “drive” back into New York.

Eventually we’re slowed by traffic again, and I look over into the car next to us and recognize MX, AE’s old roommate. MX is sitting on her chair, with a Styrofoam food container on her lap.

“I hope this food has been prepared fresh with fresh ingredients,” MX mutters to herself as she opens the container. Traffic starts up again and we continue on.

We finally reach our destination: a long, high building with a very modern feel. We all pile onto an escalator that is going up. As we ascend, we pass an escalator headed down. I see that BK and The Big Show are on this escalator. I wave to them, but they don’t see me.