Stone Statue of Ayn Rand

I'm at a cocktail party with the ladies that I had met at the BMW Performance school. Supposedly, celebrities are also coming to this party.  First Ann Coulter shows up and I'm not impressed.  Then Ayn Rand shows up.  I definitely want to meet her.  But there is a huge line and I am holding someone's baby.  The baby is a boy around 18 months old.  He is round and solid, but pretty happy to be held by me.  He is half Asian and is the son of a Japanese woman there.

I listen in on the people talking to Ayn Rand and I see Ann Coulter actually go up to her and say that she was a huge influence on her life.  Ann Coulter reading Ayn Rand?  You've got to be kidding me.  How could I have something in common with that piece of trash?  People come by and ask whether I'm in the "receiving line".  No, no, I tell them, I've got to hold this baby right now.  Finally, I notice that no one is in line anymore and the baby has fallen asleep in my arms.  I look at the baby's mother, motioning whether she wants to take him, and she simply motions to just put him down somewhere. I find a spot on the couch to put him.  The couch is a day bed with a quilt covering.  I see that he likes his legs tight against his chest, so I lay him down on his side so he can keep his legs curled up.  After I'm satisfied that he is in safely on the couch and won't roll off, I leave him.

I walk into the kitchen to find Ayn Rand.  She looks very stately and almost larger than life. In her hands, she has a tea cup filled with coffee, but there is a lid that is still on the tea cup.  A man in the kitchen tells her that she can't drink the coffee with the lid on.  She immediately takes the cup and throws it against the wall with a triumphant look on her face.  I think this behavior is kind of odd, but I let it go.

We start talking and I tell her that I closely related to Dominique in The Fountainhead.  I also mention that I am in graduate school.  She says that nothing changes your life as much as writing a thoughtful thesis for your doctorate.  I reply, nothing changes your life like having children.  I remember that I have a 9-year-old son and think, this isn't right, how could I be in graduate school and have a 9-year-old son?  I'm not really 21 and in graduate school, I am 43 years old!  (I hate when logic trips me up in my dreams.)

Ayn Rand walks away from the party and I watch from a window as she wanders into a park.  I'm looking down at her and she looks very small, like she is a toy that is about 6 inches tall.  I see her lie down in a small square clearing lined with wood railroad ties, that just fits her body.  She looks like a little stone statue.  Suddenly I realize that she is indeed a stone statue.  The statue rolls a little bit and there is a frail old woman underneath.  The real Ayn Rand was just tiny woman hiding inside the stone facade.  I realize that at the party, her stone statue was being controlled by strings like a marionette.  When she threw her tea cup, it was the puppeteer doing it and not her.  But why did she need to hide inside the stone statue?  She was frail but still beautiful.

Observations:  This dream was directly caused by reading this PostSecret last week:


From PostSecret.  Other responses:

-----Livejournal-----
It could've been worse, he could've read Dianetics or something.

-----Email Message-----
Reading Atlas Shrugged gave me the strength to pull myself out of an eating disorder; it saved my life.

The puppet analogy was in reference to updating this 6-year-old post on the puppeteer Igor Fokin last week.

I read Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead shortly after Adam was born. My friend Claire had given it to me years ago, but I slowly plodded through the first few hundred pages over the course of several years. She gave up on me, calling me a non-reader.  Finally, when I was on maternity leave, I read the rest of 700 page novel while nursing Adam for hours on end.  And then I read the entire thing again from the beginning.  This was in an extremely small font, densely packed paperback.  I have often thought about how I could have strove for individual greatness with my many talents, but have always settled for safe mediocre corporate jobs.  I claim I don't have the creativity or the energy to create something great by myself, but in reality, I just don't have the guts.

It's also interesting that I mentioned relating to Dominique instead of Howard Roark.  For years I always assumed that I was supposed to aspire to Roark's potential and ideal.  Looking at it nine years later, I can see that my life choices more closely follow Dominique.

After this dream, I looked up Ann Coulter and Ayn Rand and did find references that "I've heard [Ann Coulter] revere people like Ayn Rand for her staunch right-wing idealism". Comments like this infuriate me because I believe that Ayn Rand is not a conservative.  Anti-socialist does not equal conservative.

Obviously this dream means that it is time for me to read Atlas Shrugged.  1200 pages here I come!

Saving the Whales

I'm on a fishing boat at sea, and there is some explosion nearby in the water.  My right leg is injured, there are lacerations on my thigh and calf.  The salt water really stings in the wounds.  I'm wearing faded red cutoff jeans, so I rip off a strip from my left leg for a tourniquet.  The denim fabric is really old, so it rips easily.  When I go to tie the fabric onto my right leg, I notice that it's not really bleeding that badly, it just looks raw and swollen.  I just tie the fabric loosely onto my thigh just in case I need it later.

Then I noticed two baby whales on the boat.  The were pretty small, about three feet long and apparently beached themselves on the boat after the explosion.  Other people were trying to get them back into the water but they didn't want to go.  I said that we should take them ashore for help and I would take care of them.  I scooped them up into my arms, one in each, and they seemed to be happy.  It was really nice to hold them, I could feel they were warm-blooded.  I was pretty tired from my leg injury, so I laid down with them.  I think they were cold, so they nuzzled up my shirt and settled on my warm belly.  It was quite cozy.

By the time we reached the shore of Manhattan, I picked them up in my arms again and searched for help.  I got separated from the rest of the crew because they told me to turn right at an intersection, where they turned left.  I saw a vendor selling blue and white plastic whale balloons.  I knew I had to hide the whales from the police, so I decided that if I saw one, I would pretend that I was just another vendor hawking whale balloons even though these whales were grey and quite real, and not clear blue plastic.  I did walk by a police officer without incident, even with my bleeding leg.  I searched the throngs of people for someone that could help us.  Then I noticed an older woman dressed in a long white coat talking with her colleagues.  She was a marine biologist.  I walked up to her and asked her for help with these baby whales.  I begged her because their skin was starting to get dry.  She was taken aback by the sight of us, but eventually agreed to help. 

She led us to a building and to a room full of showers.  She was a little concerned whether the water was potable or not, but then felt it would be OK.  I entered the huge shower stall which had stainless steel dividers and turned on the warm water.  It felt really good.  As the water filled the stall, I put down the whales.  They were happy to be in the water again and rolled and frolicked around like seals.  The woman said that she would take care of the whales from here and that I should get my leg tended to.  I felt that the whales were safe so I left them.

Observations:  My leg injury was definitely from shingles pain.  Usually the pain just wakes me up, but this time they were just part of the dream.

Avelox Dream 2 - School Bus Police

Lots of broken sleep and dream fragments on the second night of Avelox, but only one dream sequence with a semblance of a plot:

I'm at home on a school day and I read a story to my daughter about this girl who makes magic muffins.  When you eat them, there is a surprise inside, a bee.  The bee will buzz around in your mouth and when you open your mouth, the bee will fly out.  We decide to make our own magic muffins and just use a chocolate chip for the bee.  They turned out to be golden brown overfilled muffins and I put them in a cloth-lined basket like any proper domestic hostess.  All of a sudden I notice the time and it is 5:15pm.  OMG, that is an hour and a half since we were supposed to pick up Adam at the bus stop.  I ask my husband frantically about it and he seems unfazed.  "Didn't you hear the phone ring?"  Apparently it did while I was in the shower while the muffins were baking.  "Is he stranded at the school?  What's going to happen to him?" 

"Don't worry, Mr. Robinson will drop him off," my husband replies.  And sure enough, a pair of headlights drive up our driveway. 

My son comes in the door and I immediately embrace him.  "I'm so sorry we missed you!" I exclaim.
"It's OK, mom" he replies and heads inside. 

I notice that Mr. Robinson comes in as well as his two girls who are older than Adam.  It appears that they want to stay a while.  "Thank you so much for bringing my son home, Mr. Robinson," I say with utmost respect.  He follows me inside and I begin to worry that he he checking out our home to make sure that we don't abuse or neglect our children.  They see the huge basket of muffins, and I tell them to help themselves.  My dining room is much bigger than in real life and it is positioned differently in our house.  There are a row of metal shelves with gleaming pots and pans on them to separate the dining room from the living room.  Thankfully, the house looks respectable, and Mr. Robinson starts looking around.  He goes upstairs and I worry that he is going to peek into my son's room which is completely trashed with Legos.   I hope that he doesn't ding me for my son's sloppiness.  Thankfully, he only peeks into my daughter's room and looks satisfied. 

Later that night, I'm in a town trying to cash in on some bottle deposits.  I sit in front of a machine and feed it my cans and bottles. I leave the big two liter bottles for last and find that I can't get the last bottle to take.  I keep trying and pushing and I get covered in a sticky purple gel.  I look at the bottle and realize that it is not a soda bottle, but a huge squeeze bottle of Welch's grape jelly.  I realize that I can't recycle this so I put it aside.  I want to clean the sticky mess off my hands before I get my receipt, so I take some hand sanitizer from the dispenser on the wall and a bunch of paper towels to get  my hands clean.  A lady behind me starts to put her own cans into the machine and I tell her to wait, I haven't gotten my receipt yet.  I quickly press the button grab my receipt with my hands which are covered in alcohol and leave.  I get about 20 feet from the place and the lady runs after me with a copy of my receipt yelling, "It's you!  You're the one who didn't pick up her son at the bus stop!  You're not allowed to have that money, it's bail money!"  OMG, I'm not sure what she is talking about.  I start to run and she is yelling at everyone to follow me.

Observations:  I think I was too traumatized thinking that I had to remember a dream for a daily Avelox post.  Obviously, neither my husband nor I would ever forget to pick up our son at the bus stop.  And I never get the deposits back for my cans and bottles, I just recycle them.  But two nights in a row with oversized muffins!  I always make them normal sized. So no more promises on Avelox dreams unless I have a really good one.

Avelox Dream 1 - Magical Party with Flying Cars

I'm taking a course of Avelox, and supposedly you can have abnormal dreams. This first night's dream seemed pretty vivid, but normal in terms of dream content, at least for me. I figure it is a good excuse to add more posts to this blog!

It is wintertime and I'm at a work party which is on an island not to far from the hotel. With a few friends, I walk over to the party location which is held outside and covered with Christmas lights. As we get closer, I notice one of my co-workers putting finishing touches on an ice window. He's using a hose to spray a mist onto a cold surface, and when he removes the backing, it looks like a pane of glass, except it is made of ice. The ice window is amazingly clear and smooth but there are some ripples in it so you can tell it is ice. I look around and see many of these windows sparkling with the lights and all framed with fluffy snow like a collar. Some windows are square, some are round, some are tall and others line the walkway. I'm really impressed with his work. As we get closer, I can hear a band singing songs. It's not an ordinary band, they looks like three dimensional gingerbread people, not flat, but full-size people with oversized heads. They're singing a song that I know and we all start to sing along. Not only are they singing, they are making huge cupcakes and donuts with cream stuffing overflowing out of them. I think, I better not eat any of those. It seems like a perfect night and I look up and see that the sky is turning a beautiful dark blue. Against the snow frosted ice windows, it looks absolutely beautiful. I think, gee, I really want to take a photograph of this, but I gotta hurry and get my camera at the hotel, this blue color won't last long. I start to walk back, but realize that it will take too long, so I hop into a van that my mom is driving.

My mom was driving in the right direction, so I stop paying attention. Suddenly, I see the party place go by and I realize that we are headed the wrong way. I say "Wait, you have to turn around!" She said "I can't right now." Suddenly we are heading over a bridge to another island. I see that she is running a GPS and I can see that this island is pretty small and you can make your way back around pretty easily. I tell her to take the turnaround, but she tries to and goes off in another direction. We end up on another bridge going to another island. I tell her to slow down, we need to retrace our steps. We are whizzing around the map, skipping from island to island until one of the roads becomes a boat landing and swish we are suddenly in the water.

Great, now we have to rescue ourselves out of the water! But magically, the van floats. At this point, I'm tired of her driving and I take the wheel. I try to navigate the van back to shore. The van seems to run, very slowly, but it moves in the water. Once we get back to shore, I take the GPS and try to program the way back to the hotel. This GPS is strange, it opens into two screen left and right and it is very hard to control. I think I get the destination right, so I try the demo to see what roads it picked. It actually goes through a dramatization of the ride and I see the roads go by in fast motion. It comes to the edge of an island, and suddenly the car becomes a rocketship and flies over to the next island. Great, that's never going to work, this car can float but it can't fly! Now I gotta reprogram the GPS so that it doesn't do any flying routes.

I'm still fiddling with the GPS when I awaken totally frustrated.

Observations: The GPS was definitely like a Nintendo DS held sideways as you do in Brain Age 2 and that's what I was playing before I went to sleep. The whole route demo with the flying car looked like it was out of The Simpson's Hit and Run game. Definitely a lot of video game influences in this dream.

Halp! My Google Account has been hacked

In my dream, I wake up and go to my computer.  I click on my Gmail and find that I can't log in.  I quickly move over to my blog and see the whole layout is messed up and all the posts are gone!  I try to log in, but I can't.  Someone has hacked into my Google account and wreaked havoc on all my stuff!  I'm at a loss to what I should do, should I call Google?  Would they even give a flying duck?  I am  completely traumatized and scared.  Who would do this to me?

Observation:  This indeed could be a reality if someone were to get a hold of my Google account password.  And the fact that so much of my Internet interests are tied to one company only speaks to the fact that Google is becoming evil empire number two (Microsoft being number one, of course).  But I suppose that I should back up my gmail, even though it is full of crap (easier to archive than delete sometimes), and back up my blog regularly.  And maybe change my password every once in a while.  Besides, who would care about my email and blogs?  There are bigger fish to fry.  And I doubt that Google will lock out my account, being the insurgent that I am...

Not a dream, but a joke

I found this draft post lying around with a dream joke:

Always follow your dream, unless it's the one where you're at work in your underwear during a fire drill.

Becoming a Tech Writer

I hear of a job opportunity as a tech writer that is about 40 minutes from my house. I take a bus there, get off and walk through what looks like an old European village. I reach the company and am greeted by the last tech writer that worked for my company. She tells me that I'm really going to like it here. I'm a little bit confused as to whether I'm there for an interview or if I'm starting the job. The brick building is a bit run down. The interior has peeling light green paint and dark red carpeting. I get tour of the facilities and then they want to show me my office. I say wait, I need to talk to HR. I'm pretty sure that I haven't accepted a job offer and they are acting like I have. First of all, I ask them, what's my salary going to be? It's got to be high enough to be worth giving up my job that is 15 minutes from my house. $175,000 they tell me. Wow, you want to pay me that much? And I would only have to be a tech writer? Sounds like a good deal to me.

So I let my ex-coworker show me to my office. She brings me to a room which looks like a bedroom with windows to the outside. The room is large, about 15x15 feet, and has a closet but no furnishings. Looking from the window, I can see an old mill next to a stream, very picturesque. My first real office with a door. Her office is adjacent to mine in the interior of the building and doesn't have a window. I ask her were the bathroom is. She brings me down the hall and shows me a large bathroom with communal tubs. She says that you bathe in here and proceeds to draw herself a bath and climb in. There are several bathtubs which are made by half height tiled walls with a seat built in. You would be able to bathe and chat with the person next to you. I'm beginning to feel like this is not a workplace but some kind of commune that I can't leave. But it doesn't matter because I'm getting paid so much.

Observations: I have been caught up in a blog writing contest that I had entered and it was the final night for voting. I also have spent the last week at work writing the on-line help for my software program. So for some reason I transformed myself into a well-paid writer in a commune!

Lost in the Elevator

I'm walking towards a high rise building, but it feels like my old dorm.  I'm walking with a girlfriend and we are talking about guys.  She off-handedly mentions that she saw one of my old boyfriends from college lately.  Really? I ask.  As I step into the elevator, she waves goodbye and says, Oh yeah, and I slept with him.  Whaaa?  The elevator takes off, and I can't remember what floor I need to go to because I'm so befuddled by her remark.  I'm convinced that I'm on the wrong elevator as the floor I need to go to doesn't have a button.  It must be an express elevator, but where is it going?  I tried to hit any floor to get it to stop, but it overshoots the floor.  Where is it going?  I press the first floor again and it starts to go down.  It overshoots the first floor as well and stops in the basement.  I get out just to get out of the elevator.  I manage to get back outside and notice that the river next to the dorm is no longer a calm river, but a huge waterfall.  Everything seems quite out of balance.

Observations:  I had this dream shortly after reading this article on elevators (fascinating, worth reading all 8 pages).  And a long time ago, I was driving with my SO and he mentioned that he had dated a friend of mine before he knew me.  I got so flustered I missed my exit.

Knitting Karaoke Pool Relay Race

Sometimes the title says it all, here goes...

I'm in line for a relay race where I have to run up to a table and knit a row of stitches. There are lots of teams running this race and I'm trying to psych our team up by cheering them on. I have fairly large white plastic knitting needles in my hand, ready to jump in to knit my row of stitches. I imagine doing them with chunky off-white cotton yarn with colored speckles. When I get up to the front of the line, I realize that it's really a pool table and not a knitting table but I don't have a pool cue, only these knitting needles. I don't think hitting the cue ball with the knitting needle would work very well, and am relieved to see that there are spare pool cues to use. I run up to the table and line up the shot. I realize that it's been years since I've played and hope that I could still make the shot. It is a fairly easy shot, but I see that it is tricky. The ball is fairly close to the corner pocket and if I overspin the cue ball, it would go in too. But if I underspin the cue ball too much, it would roll back and drop into the side pocket. So I decide to shoot is slightly off center so that the ball would hit the bumper of the pocket before going in and the cue ball would bounce slightly to the side and avoid any pockets. I shoot and it goes exactly as I planned.

I run down to the next station which is a TV monitor replay station. I watch in slow motion as I wait my turn in line. I see that I'm wearing a short sleeve yellow plaid shirt which I don't like very much but looks OK. My hair is more styled than usual, with a long curl on the bottom which bounces as I run up to the table. When I get to the table, I see that I raise my knitting needle up to my mouth and start singing. I realize that karaoke was part of the race as well although I don't remember doing it. The song is in slow motion so I don't hear it and then I see myself line up the pool shot.

Observations: Been knitting a lot lately, obviously causing disjointed knitting dreams! I like this dream because it is full of details and watching myself on TV was an interesting twist as well.

Not a dream, but a joke

Sorry for the lack of dreams lately, they have been too boring, personal or work-related. In this intermission, I offer you this joke:

Always follow your dream, unless it's the one where you're at work in our underwear during a fire drill.

- Unknown

Water world

I'm in a building which houses several companies including my own (my last job). I'm there on a weekend and some of these companies are having holiday parties. I walk into one of the rooms, and it is full of kids playing games with water tables. There are sinks lined up against the wall with tubing contraptions that feed the water tables with rivers and boats. On the other wall are piles of presents for the kids to open later. I think, this would be a cool company to work for, my kids would love it.

I wander through this building some more. I walk through this hallway, which is lined with large slabs of rough cut granite. There are small rooms which are open to the hallway on one end and then narrow to a slit about 6 inches wide about 10 feet away. There is a shower head on one side of the wall, but no drain. The water from the shower flows to the other side of the room and out the slit in the wall. I peer out of the slit to see an open foyer below with a pool. These showers actually form a waterfall for the pool. I'm transported to the lower level and can see that several of the showers are running. This level is low enough so that you cannot see the people showering above. I think this is a really novel way to incorporate a necessary function with design art.

Observations: I had this dream the night after visiting the Charles B. Wang Center at the State University of New York at Stony Brook. Outside this building there is a waterway that trickles water through many long steps from one fountain to another.

Don't Break the Ice!

I'm on a team with 2 other people that I seem to know, but not in real life. We are supposed to walk across this huge field which is made of 2 feet wide blue cubes all wedged together. They are suspended about 30 feet in the air. The cubes are not quite lined up together height-wise and some are looser than others so it is like crossing a rock pier except suspended in the air. The first team across the entire field wins of course. We start crossing and then there is a break in the cubes where you'd have to jump about 15 feet to get across. There is no way that we can jump that far, so I told the rest of the team that I was going to go back, climb down and walk to the other side. This would mean taking penalty points but I didn't see anyway around it. I wasn't going to try jumping across a 15 foot span with a 30 foot drop. My other teammates start getting angry with me but one follows me down. By the time we reach the break, we look up at the suspended cubes and the other teammate is still yelling at us that we need to jump. He said it wouldn't hurt if we fell. The floor is a gym floor covered in interlocking black rubber squares, somewhat padded, but not enough in my eyes. Then the teammate above leaps off and lands flat on his face with a huge thud. I turn away, not wanting to see the aftermath, but the other teammate runs over to him immediately. I start walking the other way, imagining the blood and mangled bones and wishing that it didn't happen. Miraculously, they come running up to me to show me that he is alright. Now, he gets angry with me for walking away. I start to apologize for walking away and that I didn't mean to desert the team and I feel terrible. I wonder how it is that he isn't hurt. Perhaps I'm in the Matrix...

Observations: This cube setup is very reminiscent of the game Don't Break the Ice and also this build-your-own arch from the Ecotarium in Worcester MA.

Thank goodness for rich relatives

My family and I are driving around in Toronto in a car that is only a 2 seater and the kids and the luggage are stuffed in the back. It is roomy enough for them as there is a large space under the hatchback window for them to sit and play. We are trying to drive to Doug's cousin Allen's house but then remember that he has moved and we don't know where his new apartment is. Suddenly we see that we're being followed and realize that they want us because we've stolen the car that we're in. We drive faster to avoid these people but then the kids start asking to go to the bathroom. I suddenly remember that there is a another cousin that lives nearby so we quickly drive to their house. The address is a building on a city street, so we all hop out, run across the sidewalk, run inside and shut the door behind us.

I'm amazed at the beauty of this house, it is immaculate with tall ceilings, white walls, floor to ceiling windows, and perfectly polished medium-toned wood floors. In the foyer to the left of the door, there is a large table with a centerpiece that is a six foot long ceramic canoe used as a vase. The inside of this ceramic piece is colored from very pale blue to a deep cobalt blue. Inside are an arrangement of fresh flowers that reach three feet above the vase. We are greeted by Doug's cousin who looks like Kate Hudson with curly light brown hair and a warm smile. She is extremely friendly and happy to see us even though we came unannounced. We explain that we just needed to make a stop and also mention that there are people chasing us. She tells us that we're welcome to stay as long as we like. I ask, what do you mean by as long as we like? She says, since you're relatives, you could live here if you wanted, it's a family house. I ask, Permanently? for free? She says yes. I say, sure, let's look around. I start thinking that this would mean relocating to Canada and all the logistics of it but then I just let the house take me away.

Now, this house or rather building is huge and takes up a whole city block. The kids quickly see other cousins that they know and they bring them to the movie theater. I tag along behind them to see what it looks like. There is indeed a huge theater with about 10 rows of seats, a red and white striped curtain and a popcorn machine. The guy running the popcorn machine says that the peanuts are slow getting roasted, but the popcorn is ready. The peanuts are roasting in their shells over an open flame grill. I see him filling up bags of popcorn for the kids and he also has french fries and gravy. I think this is a weird combination, so I try a piece. It is actually quite tasty, but I didn't think Adam would like it because it would be too soggy. Next thing I know, I see him eating a bowl of them and enjoying it. I guess he likes this place. There are about 20 kids and they settle down for their movie, so I wander around some more.

I go up the stairs and am amazed by the beautiful architecture. There are windows along the round winding staircase and skylights above. Sun is streaming in from all angles filling the stairwell with radiant light. The railing of the staircase has two shiny metal bands that curve in a wavy upside down U shape. I look at these bands from above and think that this would make a great photograph. I want to run back to the car and get my new DSLR camera, but not just yet, need to explore some more. I finally get to the other side of the building and there is personal travel agency there. There are large light blue tiles walls with the tiles emanating in a stretched polar pattern from the lower left corner. The sign for the agency over the counter has a retro-looking map of the world in the shape of a football. Here the floors are shiny black tiles.

I walk back to the front of the house convinced that this is the place to live. I look out the window to see that the people chasing us have gotten a hold of our car, which is now clearly a silver Lotus. Someone from the house starts chasing after them on a skateboard. I don't feel too bad about losing the car or our belongings because we can get everything from this house.

Observations: This mysterious Kate Hudson-like cousin is probably Allen's daughter Lara who also lives in Toronto. In real life, she is not independently wealthy but she is nice as can be. I woke up from this dream at 8:05 AM already late for work!

A living memorial

I'm on a bus with a bunch of people, heading out to a gathering which I know is a memorial service for Carl Paul (in real life, Carl has been gone for over a year and a half). We arrive at our destination which is in a park with a large gathering tent. I take a seat in a white plastic folding chair. Everyone is dressed a bit like hippies, it is a beautiful day and the air is warm. We see Carl alive walking around greeting everyone, wearing his tan leather jacket with the fringes in front. I think that it is strange that he is here, as if he knew he was going to die soon, and wanted to get everyone together one last time. We are all seated as he walks around with papers to hand out to people. I stand up to help him, because I know he must be weak, but he shoos me away. Finally I get my papers and I realize that they are individually addressed and that is why he refused help. Along with the papers is a small box. I open it and there are two items inside, presumably things he wanted me to have after he was gone. One item is an old HP calculator, which I believe to be more valuable than my own HP 32S. I am really touched by this gesture as I know how dear this calculator must have been to him. The thought crosses my mind whether to hock it on eBay or keep it for sentimental value because I wouldn't really use it. I quickly think that this is an inappropriate thought to think at a memorial and try to get my mind back on the service.

Observations: Our minds often confuse the living and dead when we dream. I didn't know whether Carl had an HP calculator in real life, but he was the type of person who would treasure one. I tried to find the actual calculator from the dream, it seems to be an HP 38e, but I dreamt it was bigger and had more buttons. Of course, I don't necessarily have to dream of objects that must exist in real life!

Bowling on Twitter

I'm going bowling with some friends and have to walk downstairs to the bowling alley. I'm trying to get a foursome, and I ask my friend Noorul, but she declines and then I remember that she doesn't like to use those communal shoes. I finally get another friend Marty as the fourth (can't remember the other two). While we are bowling, I think I'm doing well, but the score keeps hovering around 9. I finally realize that the scorekeeper is doing it wrong, subtracting points instead of adding them. Finally after we correct the scores, it is around 110. After the game, I go upstairs to a computer cafe. It is full of people with dark red walls and law office lamps with the green glass shades. I sit at a computer and try to write a twitter post about bowling. I can't seem to come up with anything and it is hard to type and see the screen which is tilted towards me on a slanted wall. My boss is standing behind me waiting for me to put up my post. I try to explain that this monitor is screwing me up. I type and it doesn't comes out witty or funny, and then it gets too long, over 140 characters. Imagine twitter anxiety in my dream!

Observations: This dream happened after I replied to geekparrot's twitter post about bowling, to which she replied here. Here is the transcript:

geekparrot: I bowled my best game ever - 144. Hee.
moonfever0: @geekparrot Awesome, real bowling is so much harder than Wii bowling!
geekparrot: @moonfever0 Well I'm still waiting to get my Wii, but yea, ain't nothing like the real thing.

Multi-colored pasta

I'm eating in a fancy house which is not mine and we are cleaning up the dishes. I'm supposed to put away the leftovers of the pasta dish, which was barely touched. The large round dish is full of spaghetti with different colors in each quadrant: green, blue, yellow and red. There is more green than any other color. In the center is a pile of shredded beef or pork. I try to pull some of the green pasta up but end up getting some of the other colors as well. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to keep these colors segregated or not, but I manage to slide the whole dish into the container. Then I'm at the sink, looking out the old white painted double paned window and see everyone playing outside in the green grass. I'm wondering why I'm slaving over the sink, am I a servant here or something? I go to take a shower which I know is in a closet of a bedroom. The closet is now filled with boxes and then I realize that it's been years since this shower has been used.

Observations: Yes, this one is pretty disjointed, but I really liked the multi-colored pasta. At some point I also got very angry and upset, but I really can't remember why.

Swimming upstream

I'm in a house with all of my fellow co-workers. We are working on an assignment where we are to explain why the water from the river next to the house flow up through the pipes and sprays from the top of the chimney like a fountain. There are no pumps and it is a natural physical phenomenon. I try to guess capillary action, but they say no because the pipes are about 6 inches in diameter. Then my co-workers figure it out and try to explain it to me and I don't understand at all. I keep saying "I don't get it" and feel really dumb.

Next, I find myself in the river next to the house wading across to get to some balls on the other side. I believe these balls are the magic key to the upwardly flowing water. I'm stepping barefoot through some wet mossy areas, and then I realize that the river gets deep and start to swim across. Suddenly, I see my 3-year-old daughter in the river as well and try to tell her not to go in too far because it is too deep. She doesn't listen, so I have to scoop her up and swim with her to the other side. It is hard to swim against the river, but I manage to get to the other side. I grab the balls which look like multi-colored tennis balls and then swim towards the slider of the house. There is no dock or anything, the river runs right up the the slider. I help my daughter up and then hop inside with the balls and my sloshing wet clothes.

Observations: My 6-year-old son is now in the habit of saying "I don't get it" all the time. Earlier that day I was left off the a distribution list for a list of problems from our customer and felt out of the loop. My solar system is also broken, spewing water all over the roof when the pumps are on (no magic there!).

Traveling with Father Roderick

I'm walking around in Amersfoort, the home town of Father Roderick, podcaster extraordinaire of Catholic Insider and Daily Breakfast fame. I'm following Fr. R around the rainy streets and we arrive at his home. It is different than what I imagined. I've heard his description of living on the 2nd floor (1st for the Europeans) of an old house and seen videos taken within his studio. This place is a one bedroom apartment in a building. When you walk in, the bathroom is immediately to the right and it is covered in bright red and white checkerboard tiles. His apartment is also richly colored in dark reds and decorated in a gypsy style. With us is a woman who he obviously knows well and they are talking and joking with each other at length. I notice as they are talking they are touching each other in an overly friendly way. I feel part of this group but obviously left out of this "special" relationship.

Observations: A few weeks later, Fr. R went into detail about priestly celibacy. He also mentioned at a separate time, that he is certainly not perfect and needs to work on some things. I certainly don't think that he personally has issues with keeping relationships with the opposite sex at bay. He is extremely friendly and charming and has a dynamic personality where I could see plenty of women falling for him.

Trip to India

I'm taking a business trip to India. I arrive at the hotel and go to check in. On the way to the front desk, I see a co-worker coming out of the elevator. I feel relieved that I know someone in this foreign country. He is in a rush to get somewhere but mentions that both he and his wife are there and they are on floor 10. Hopefully, I can get a room near them. I get on line to check in. As I approach the counter, I try to fish out my company credit card and I can't find it. I have my purchasing card, but you aren't supposed to use that for travel. The front desk person looks at me impatiently and I can see that the line is getting longer behind me. A woman employee tells me that I'm taking too long and asks me to move to a different line. I'm so flustered that I simply follow. Finally when I get to the counter, I decide to use my regular personal credit card since I will at least get a 2% benefit back. The clerk tells me that since I'm not using the credit card that I reserved with, I will be assigned a different room, as if this were a e-Ticket check-in at an airport kiosk. I'm a little concerned about this and ask where the room will be. He says, "Actually, your pool is right here around the corner, but the room is in building 10-D which you well be escorted to."

I look around the corner at my assigned pool and see this room with a small pool which is about 10 x 15 feet made entirely of stainless steel like a huge sink. It is extremely crowded, filled with Indian people. There were two levels to the pool. Around the shallow outer ring, all the adults were sitting around the edge with their feet in the water. In the center of the pool, all the children were playing inside. The water was divided into three colored areas, one red, one blue and one green, as if the children were swimming in various jell-o colors. I couldn't tell whether the color was achieved by actual colored water, in which case they would probably easily mix together, or lights from above or under the water. I thought this pool was pretty cool and different from pools back home, but it was so crowded and filled with local people that I did not want to try it. There were several rooms with these pools for the different parts of the hotel.

After check-in I was asked to hop into a cream colored Mercedes car which would take me to my room. I had a soft duffel bag for luggage which I stuffed into the foot well of the back seat before hopping in. There was another traveler going to the same building. He was chatting with the driver about some restaurant and karaoke club that he liked and the driver said it was right around the corner from our building. We drive around for quite a while, turning so many times that I quickly lose my direction. I look out the window at all the new sights and sounds of India and think about taking out my camera, but I'm more concerned that I don't know where I am and I know that I'll have plenty of time to take pictures later. Finally, I see "10-D" on a nice beige complex that look like American condos with garage doors in front. We drive through the parking lot and drive back out onto the streets. After a couple of turns the driver stops and lets us out. I ask why we aren't at building 10-D and the driver said the we were being dropped off at the karaoke club that the other passenger mentioned and points to it across the street. I somehow missed the conversation where this decision was made. The driver informs us that our lunch has been prepared and sets them up on picnic benches along the sidewalk.

My kids are suddenly there and I have to make sure all the Indian food is to their liking. An older Indian woman sits down besides me and I find that I have to move all our meals down the table. She has a lot of wares with her as well and takes up a lot of room. I realize that the guy I was traveling with has his lunch packed up and is walking towards the club across the street. Since I'm no where near the co-worker I had seen previously, I feel this is the only guy that I know in this country, plus I can't even remember how to get back to the hotel building. I call out, "Steve?" He doesn't answer and I realize that is not his name. I run over and tap his shoulder and ask him to show me how to get back to the hotel building. He points down the street and says just go right at that traffic light, then go left and the building is on the right. I ask him, "Can I have your phone number because I don't know anyone else in this country?" I'm a little concerned that we probably don't know the local number of the hotel and that our US cell phones won't work with Indian providers, but he willingly writes down his name, Roger, and his phone number on the back of a receipt. I, in turn, do the same and write down my work phone number (obviously this will do him no good, but I'm not so logical when dreaming).

After watching Steve (apparently I refuse to believe his name is Roger as I type this) cross the street to his restaurant, I turn back to my kids and see them running around the sidewalk with a bunch of headbands from the woman with the wares. My son (6) is chasing my daughter (almost 3) trying to put them around her neck. They are laughing and having a great time. I start yelling at them to "Stop!" and "Give those back!" and "We will have to pay for those!" I'm concerned that I don't have any Indian cash as I had forgotten to exchange some at the airport, and I'm sure this woman cannot take a credit card. I'm completely at wits end with the kids when I suddenly realize that I have to wake up. I wake up, look at the clock and it is two minutes before the alarm was set to go off. I'm extremely relieved to be out of that stressful situation in India.

Observations: Of course, I've never been to India. I rarely set the alarm, but I was going to a seminar this morning in not so foreign Manchester, NH (in which I wrote the draft of this dream in its entirety). Last week I planned business trips to benign domestic cities of Palm Springs, CA and Chicago and certainly will not be bringing those crazy kids of mine. We did take a family trip to Disney World two weeks ago, and I probably said all those phrases, but it was not nearly as stressful as I thought it would be.

Hooked on hypnosis

I'm in a city that feels like New Orleans, because it feels like very spiritual as in a psychic, ghost-spirit way. I go into an office that practices hypnosis and chiropractic which is actually just a Victorian house. I sit in the waiting room which is a parlor with a curtain hiding the rest of the house. Somehow I have the power to see through the curtain into inside of the house full of victorian furniture. Finally, it is my turn and I go in. They sit me down in a comfortable high back chair and I lean my head back. The lights are dim and they bring over two flashlight-like devices and hold them up to my eyes. I see blue sparkling dancing lights, and in two seconds, I'm suddenly in a trance. I'm completely weightless, and my body is totally relaxed. There are no aches or tension anywhere, almost no feeling at all, as if I am no longer attached to my body. My mind is also surprisingly crystal clear, no cares, worries or even thoughts. It is wonderful to be so completely quiet, calm and relaxed in both body and mind. But alas, it lasts only about 15 minutes and then my session is over. I come back another day and enjoy the experience again, and find myself addicted to the sensation.

Finally I try to get some of my friends to join me. We sit in the waiting room together and I'm going on and on about how this will be the most mind-blowing experience they will ever have. Since we are in a group, they sit us in a theater-like room with rows of fold-down seats. I take my seat and await the blue lights. The attendant shines the blue sparkly lights in my eyes, but I don't go into the trance. I tell them it didn't work. I look over at my friends and can see that they are all in their trances. The attendant comes back and tries to use the blue lights again. Now, it looks more like a pen with a blue light on the end and she is scribbling on an imaginary plate of glass in front of my eyes. It is my left eye that doesn't seem to work and I feel my right side falling into the trance. She shakes the pen as if it isn't writing well and tries to scribble on my left eye again. It doesn't work. She says she'll be right back with some stronger tools. I hear her in the back room switching on some controls. Suddenly I see patterns of colored blocks flying towards me, and although they seem hypnotic, I still don't go into a trance. At this point, I'm getting frustrated because I can't get my fix. More patterns change in front of me. Fractal swirls, popping bubbles, all to no avail. My friends are all coming out of their trances and I've missed mine. I'm very disappointed and hope that my trance days aren't over.

Observations: I've had both chiropractic and hypnosis clinics at work in the past. I find the chiropractic stuff a bit of hokey, but I'm dying to go back and get my neck "fixed" again.