Bad Teacher

My most frequent stress dreams are those in which I am a terrible teacher.  I had a few of these over the Christmas holiday, likely because I was thinking of lessons I ought to be planning.  One went as follows:

I was substituting for a teacher that I had in high school by the name of Tammy. She is a language arts teacher and she had great confidence in me.  In my first lesson I collected exercises that the students had done.  They had created literacy and ESL activities for the schools library to use.  I spent way to much time going through the assignment, and felt guilty because I knew that I was just eating up class time rather than making the most profitable use of the time.

Frustrated and disappointed in myself, I decided to change the format and organization for the next class.  We did some different activities including going through some scripts and doing theatre exercises.  All in all, the lessons seemed a terrible mish-mash of lame attempts to fill time and kind of meet objectives.  My guilt was compounded by the fact that I didn't think Tammy would believe me when I told her how terrible the lesson went; she just has too much confidence in me.

Crocodiles, China, and a mini-poodle

Last night, my dream began in some trail/forested area.  It reminded me of the Green Belt Trail in Iowa.  The path was quite wide, and at times we would see people driving their cars on the trail.  After going into the thick of the wooded area, we somehow ended up on a mountain surrounded by a large bay.  I had the feeling I was in the Czech Republic, though there were no cues for it to be the CZ.  While we were on this high cliff, someone took a photo of Sarah K. (whom I went to China with in real life) doing a handstand near the edge of the cliff.  I climbed down to where the photo was taken and realized she must have been bracing herself against some rusted iron stairs.

As I beheld the view before me I noticed that the bay was thick with crocodiles.  I was quite surprised, for I had already swam in the bay myself.  I saw a person swimming in the midst of the crocodiles.  She had a baby crocodile or turtle (fake of course) strapped to her leg, and was using it to entice the crocodiles.  When one pursued her, she deftly swam off without any injury.

Soon we were back in the forest which led to this bay.  As we walked the path, my companions complained of the cars which often took the trail.  The trail was large enough to accommodate a single car without any shoulder.  Some cars and wagons came barreling through.  Then some flashy red Camaro tried to whip itself around a curve in the gravel and ended up with its nose off the road and having to back up.  The driver, a white-haired mid-life crisis man, was frustrated with the lacking agility of his vehicle.

After we left that location, the dream shifted and I was suddenly in China.  It was like an airport of sorts, and there were restaurants and shops around.  I also ran into some of my old African-American students there.  I was with Czechs or people that I knew from the Czech and we were waiting to choose at which restaurant we would eat. 

While we waited in a hotel room, someone gave me a present for my birthday.  It was a black poodle-schnauzer mix (or something like--it had black curly hair floppy ears).  Its ears were breaded--like řízek or chicken-fried steak.  One of the girls was afraid she'd harmed him because she tried to eat his ears.  I cleaned off his ears and gave him a bath.  It was then as if I'd scrubbed him vigorously and his ears had come off.  Then I realized his ears were merely cosmetic and could be pinned on.  I was so overwhelmed by the puppy, and I didn't know how to express that I'd never wanted a puppy.  I was worried about how I would train it, and how I would get the puppy through customs going back to the States.  Moreover, the puppy didn't seem to like me very much.  Finally, at the end of the dream, the dog came and nestled itself next to my sleeping form.

Umbrellicopter

Many people know my current Czech city for its historical smog.  This association has apparently become very integrated with my own perception of the city as seen in the following dream . . .

In the dream, Minneapolis, MN was integrated with my current Czech city.  Using an umbrella which functioned as a helicopter, I began to enter into Northeast Minneapolis from Brooklyn Park around 694.  However, as I got closer to the city, the smog was unbearable and visibility was almost completely impossible.  Moreover, the sky was dense with helicopter traffic.  These were proper, enclosed helicopters and not merely umbrella helicopters.  I was worried about potential accidents in the smog and decided to turn around.  As I left the city, the sky quickly cleared up and I found myself over the lawn of some pleasant rural home.  There were lovely tall trees which I had to carefully navigate under.  I also saw my mother walking and I flew above her.  I thought that it might be nice of me to write to her about my umbrella helicopter experience.  I didn't have much control over my umbrellicopter, and I was thankful for the landing which I was finally granted.

Home Alone and the Bayou

In part of my dream last night, I was at some beach-side eatery with some friends.  I have the feeling that it was owned by someone that I knew.  At this eatery, I was just lounging with some friends, and they announced some beach-side film.  It was to be Home Alone.   I overheard a group of Brits behind me; they either hadn't heard of the film or hadn't heard the name.  I turned around and told a distinguished looking middle-aged man wearing white that the movie was Home Alone, one of the quintessential American Christmas films.

He curled his lip at me and told me that they were more interested in a summer film.  Feeling a bit snubbed, I turned back to the bar and looked at the program played on the TV.  There was a surfing show.  It showed men surfing in perhaps the Bayou or otherwise in the Everglades.  How they were surfing is beyond me.  There were no waves, and the men were not on surfboards.  Rather, they glided along on makeshift crafts made from the remains of some rickety suspension footbridge.  The documentary showed them cruising through waterways filled with alligators, sharp rocks and sticks, as well as ample litter and polluted water.  Apparently the man featured in the film was brother to someone connected to the seaside eatery.

Before I knew it, the conversation had changed and an old coworker, Sarah H., was present.  She was talking about a former resident of the group home and how difficult it was to work with him.  I was surprised because Sarah H., is the embodiment of a cheerful worker. 

I'm a graduate student . . . in mathematics.

My dream began with me in some small group perusing through graduate programs.  I was on a time crunch, so I made a very quick decision.  And what did I select?  Mathematics.

I then found myself in a small classroom setting, akin to Mr. Armstrong's classroom in middle school.  We were plotting points on grids the shape of Minnesota and connecting the points.  As I exited the room, I was casually talking with another student, saying how it was an impulsive decision to study mathematics and I hadn't even studied calculus in high school.

***

A colleague and I discussed the dream the following morning.  She pointed out all the stats I've been looking at about the USA and all the graphs I've been making from those stats.  I then recalled that I had been working on my budget the night before.  Moreover, I have been thinking off and on about what will happen when this Fulbright ends.  Well, let's add graduate school in mathematics to the list of possibilities!

Billboard Dad

So, my schedule has put a hammer on my dreaming, but I've been remembering them again.  Last night I dreamt that I was watching an old family video.  I must have been only about 18 months in the video, and we were at the seaside.  As I watched the video, I could hear myself speaking.  I listened to my baby self, and distinguished the words "Billboard Dad."  (I never actually saw this film as a child, but I remember talking about this Mary Kate & Ashley film with friends.)  As I watched myself, I realized that I actually remembered this instance, making it the earliest memory I have ever had.

Student Expulsion

Last night I dreamed that I was substitute teaching.  The brick building I was in looked like it was built in the late 1800s.  I had the impression that it was the end of the school year.  While I was teaching, the students were quite out of control.  I told them that if they continued to misbehave I would send them out.  I proceeded to do so with one student, and I think it resulted in his expulsion.  Then I suddenly found myself seeing the world from his perspective, and learning things about his home life--mainly that he had to share a room with his sister.  I felt a bit guilty as I realized that his acting out was likely only over-compensation.

Blue Hair, Blue Shirt, Used Tissues.

The dream I remember from last night began with me snoozing my alarm this morning.  While the alarm was going, I was imagining Czech words being drilled into my head.  Each beep was another word I was trying to memorize.  I recall turning over and thinking, "this isn't so bad."

Then my dream shifted and I was in my old middle school's library.  I was in a class, and I wasn't paying attention.  I missed the instructions about the homework assignment, so I went to the circulation desk to copy it from a free-standing calendar.  In order to do so I had to ask someone to move out of my way.  It was a guy I went to high school with and he had a bright blue button-up shirt on.  I had difficulty making out the words (in Waking Life [check out around minute 2:45], they would say this is a way to identify lucid dreaming). 

The class had ended and the professor walked in for the next class.  He was a professor that I recognized from my alma mater although I had never had a class from him.  Anyhow, we greeted each other and we started walking towards the table which still contained my belongings.  He asked me when the last time was that I had had undivided time with God, time of focused Bible study or prayer.  I was quite convicted.  As I went to gather my things from under my chair, everything was spilling over.  My bag was quite stuffed, and I spilled chocolate-covered nuts all over the floor.  I struggled to collect them again.  I was putting them into the plastic packaging they'd come in, only I had also stuffed used tissues in the bag, so it was quite unsanitary.  As I clumsily went along my task, I looked up and to my right and saw Lena sitting at another desk.  She had dyed a large portion of her dark hair bright blue.  It was quite becoming on her.

Brother's Cameo

I was relaxed as I woke this morning, ruminating over my dream and considering writing it down--but once I was out of bed, my mind was on the hike to come and the dream vanished.  Hours later I remembered that I had dreamed and scrambled to recall it.  All I know is that it had a positive tone overall and that my deceased brother was in it.  He's actually made quite a few visits to dreams recently, and I am only left with the glimmer of his presence and the strange knowledge that he is the same age as he was when he passed--19--but that I am my current age, which makes me older than him.  And yet, I continue to feel like the "younger sister."

I'll try to be a bit more faithful in jumping on recording my dreams in the future.

Carolina Chocolate Drops and Christmas Cheer

Last night I had a dream that the Carolina Chocolate Drops had set up some sort of arts house in some merge between L.A., San Fransisco, and New York City.  There was an old Victorian era house with art pouring off all the walls.  There were sculptures and paintings, and there was food that was cooked by the kids everywhere.  When I first entered, there was a golf and crayon stained-glass window/alter-esque depiction of the Virgin Mary propped up near a table.  The members of the band were teaching students about art, about cooking, and about Jesus.

The whole place was full of active color and active children, eagerly making art pieces, learning about everything under the sun, and running around like mad.  I saw pictures from previous days where girls had removed paintings and sculptures from the walls and had somehow managed to climb onto the walls and pose as if they themselves were the art.  They had edited the images to flatten themselves into the architecture.

One of the lectures/labs incorporated many historical objects that kept emerging from behind a screen.  This included candelabra as well as random wooden objects that had become fused together.  Later in the kitchen, there was an overwhelming amount of food, and people about my age that were helping were serving the food to the various kids from the neighborhood.  Later, at a workshop, we were given all sorts of candies, fruits, and marshmallows and had to mix them together with our hands until the stickiness of the marshmallows brought everything together.  I was a bit to vigorous, unleashing blackberries onto the walls.  Somehow my mixture was becoming a large tower, and I realized the band member had given me more material to work with than anyone else.  When I went to remove it from it's bowl, suddenly it became clay or sandstone, and as I set it out to dry, I began to remold different parts.  Instead of it being a tower, it suddenly looked like a maiden sitting with her legs outstretched with a leg becoming an abstract form and bits of the hand becoming like feathers.

People stood watching me put the final touches, and my father told me that I would overwork it and ruin the sculpture.  As the various fine arts activities continued, such as putting up photos and sculptures all the way up the wall (salon style), I was snapping away photos.  For some reason, I couldn't upload them to a computer and had to pay to have them put onto a disc or something.  Apparently I had taken so many, though, that I was charged an exorbitant amount of money, which was really rather consistent with the whole dream.

There was something baroque or rococo about the atmosphere.  Everyone was spilling over with life and creativity.  The house overflowed with sound, color, and delicious food.  At one point I was talking with my old friend Jenn H. and I asked her if she was ready for lunch.  I myself was quite full from the wonderful breakfast.  She said she was trying to establish some rhythm to her eating and didn't want to take lunch till one or two.

In the mean time, I went with one girl (who was Czech) to the city center.  We linked arms and sang "Joy to the World" in two part harmony while crossing the street.  It was still October in my dream as well, and we felt that maybe it was a bit out of place, especially since we were suddenly in the Czech Republic again.  But the song seemed so fitting because the house we'd been in was so filled with life and hope and something like Christmas cheer.

Dream Lapse?

No, I haven't disappeared off the edge of the planet--just off America.  I relocated to the Czech Republic about a month ago, and what has it meant for my dream life?  Eh . . . it's finally returning to some form of normalcy.  The initial effect of the move was a series of dreams in which I was a homewrecker--not pleasant and I'm not wanting to record it here, though I think this turn in stress dreams is a bit interesting.

After those dreams fizzled out, I had a dream in which I became a mermaid.  Yes, mermaid (and you wonder why the posts stopped). 

After that I began having somewhat "normal" dreams.  Last night included a visit from my childhood best friend, and earlier this week my deceased brother appeared in one of my dreams.  My dream was mostly forgotten last night except for the vivid voice of Jana telling me to wake up in my dream as my alarm went off.  Perhaps as I get into waking up in a more timely fashion, I will be better able to hold onto my dreams again.

Meryl Streep and Michelle Obama

I've been dreaming plenty lately, but I've been lax recording them--what with preparing to move to Europe.

Last night I dreamed that Meryl Streep was pretty much God.  She was controlling what happened to various students at the school as if they were characters in a film.  Everyone yielded to her control, even her husband--which may have been Alec Baldwin.  I was a teacher in said school and when I was teaching one day I found that I had some repeat students in my class--some of whom were not such big fans of me.  In the dream I ran into my former principal, who apparently worked under Meryl Streep.

She was a bit of a tyrant and everyone seemed to fear her--including the Obama family.  I remember walking through a grocery store, and Michelle Obama was pushing a cart with a grimacing face.  The president was about 30 yards ahead going towards produce with a fairly full cart.  The girls were streaming behind them both.

Circuses, Carnivals, Churches

Last night I found myself at Marilyn and Gary's.  There house was quite a bit different than it is in real life.  There was some town festival or something going on, and many people from my church were somewhere in the house.  Apparently Dannette had a family member pass away and she was reclining on a giant bed in the living room very dejected.  Beth was in there with her and she wasn't doing well either.  I asked if I could help her at all, and she asked for some stew.

I think the circus was being played on tv.

Teaching

Last night's dream landed me in a school--quite fitting as my old high school starts classes today.  Only in my dream I was Will Schuester--it's not the first time I have been him in a dream (only a female version).  I was in his/my office, with everything locked up and a student requested entry.  I unlocked the room and let them in, only to have the requests multiply.  At one point a student sat outside the office and had a foot-high stack of textbooks in front of her.  She was fussy about carrying around the books.  I wondered whether to offer to put them in the office--then I questioned whether it would be more of a life lesson to her if I let her ask me first and understand that you must ask to have your requests filled by-and-large and people won't always predict them.

The dream swirled around the school with lessons and interactions--which are all a blur at this point.

Coffeehouses on the Honor System

Last night I dreamed that I was in some cross between central Iowa and northwestern Illinois.  I was living in some rural area.  I went for a walk down a gravel road and found myself at a very homey country house.  I walked in because it was a coffee house.  However, no one was in and the coffeehouse was based on the honor system.  There was a kitchen as cluttered and homey as any I'd ever seen.   I could make myself some coffee and then just leave cash there.

Time passed and I found myself at the coffeehouse again.  This time I also brought two kinds of veggie burgers and was boiling them in a glass casserole dish.  Apparently others had used it and there were other mysterious things floating in it.  It wasn't gross in the dream--but right now I'm about to wretch at the thought of it.  I also noticed there to be many dirty dishes in the sink.  Apparently the owner would come by every once in a while, collect money, and do the dishes.

When I went into the living room Derek N. was there.  Apparently someone in his family had become the owner of the coffeehouse.

A Da Vinci Art Lesson of Epic Proportion

Last night had me in an Indiana-Jones esque cave.  I was suspended with another person above something like lava or acid.  Across from us was another pair suspended, and in between us was a the Mona Lisa.  It was the height of an action-film quandary.  Apparently all of us and the painting would be released at the same time to do battle over the painting before it or us were lost below.  Though I perceived the liquid to be caustic--somehow there was more concern that the painting would be sunk in the liquid than consumed.  As it was dropped, the painting shifted into Da Vinci's self-portrait and then into Botticelli's Birth of Venus.  There was a narrative going on about Da Vinci's life while these paintings shifted, and I wondered that they were suddenly showing a painting obviously done by Botticelli.  I then remembered that Da Vinci was influenced by Botticelli and had seen this painting.  I don't know (in real life) if this is true or not, though the timing makes it very possible.

Before I knew it I was out of the cave and outside.  I was sitting with my family and we were suddenly watching either an Indiana Jones film or The Lion King.  During the end credits, they showed a choir doing a gospel-version of Joy to the World.  It was the same rendition that my church sometimes sings at Christmas.  I was trying to get my father's attention to have him notice this particular arrangement of music.

Spain or Italy?

Unfortunately, the details of last night's dream were lost in my attempt to identify where it was located.  It seemed like Italy, but I had an overwhelming sense that it took place in Spain.  I think this was because Audra was there with me.

Colorado Engagements

Last night had me on a road trip to Colorado with Heather W.  We went out to see her family.  Colorado looked more like lush green foothills in Switzerland.  There were two trees in her yard which were connected by a rope.  On the rope where miniature houses.  Below was a stream or river.  I climbed across the rope, and by the time I got to the opposite side, it was decided that I would marry Heather's younger brother who was actually older than her.

At some point her family came home, including her three "younger" brothers and her sister.  Her mother had cooked up all sorts of delicious treats, including a surprise pot pie that Heather and her sister were supposed to take home with them.  It was "surprise" because no one knew what was in it.  The entire time at her family's place was spent outside in the lush greenery, throwing around balls, running, and swimming.  There was a treehouse or something like out in the water, which we had to swing or swim to.

The next thing I knew I was with Cassie S. in a car trying to get to a particular eating establishment.  I tried to tell her it was by the "Grove Cafe"--which is in Iowa, I think I meant the Aster Cafe--and she disagreed with me.  Finally we found wherever we were going, but we had to meander through endless twists and turns of that partition tape/ribbon stuff they use at movie theaters.  We were still waiting to get somewhere when I awoke.

Target Stairs

I think this dream took place during a nap today, but even now it's hard to place it.  I was inside a Target, trying to make my way around, but all the aisles were arranged in non sequitur way.  I would be looking for a particular aisle and somehow find myself at the dollar spot.  This particular target had very high ceilings and the whole of the shopping area was a skinny rectangle shape.  There was then a wall along the long side of the rectangle that went up to the ceiling.  It was painted with bright colors in an abstract way.  There was a long stairway that would take a person nearly to the ceiling, where there were some doors for offices or something mysterious.  My companion(s) and I kept discussing this stairway and were arguing about whether we ought to or would have to go up it.  I woke up shortly after we began mounting the stairs.

Time Travel

Last night's dream landed me back in my freshman year of college.  I was aware, however, that I was somehow back in time, reliving an experience.  I was in the dorm of Matthew S--who did not go to my college.  We were chatting as he was screwing together his bunk bed.  His roommate was asleep on the bed below as he put it together.  I was wondering about all the noise of people settling in that I was hearing even though it was early morning and many were sleeping.  At one point Matthew stepped out to do something, and I pretended to sleep on his floor so his roommate wouldn't be completely surprised if he saw me (why sleeping would help is beyond me).  Before I knew it I was looking at Matthew's facebook pictures and found some of me wearing a bright red dress.  Apparently my old RA Betsy had taken the pictures or my roommates had taken the pictures in our room.

Before I knew it I was transported to a wedding.  While walking toward the wedding I saw a crowd of people--sitting in folding chairs--around a trampoline.  Claudia--Matt and Lynette's baby--was crawling on the trampoline.  I saw her and realized it had been a while since I had seen her, so I went and oohed and awed over her.  I looked at the surrounding adults and realized I knew not a one.  Then one woman began speaking with me and asked me if I knew who Barbara Kruger was (she's an artist).  I nodded and the woman pointed out some individual with the last name "Horner" and apparently that person was Barbara Kruger's sister.  I stored this knowledge away and continued on towards the wedding.

We were suddenly in a hotel headed to a ballroom.  I had lost my group of friends, so even though I entered in early enough to have my choice of seats, I was insecure in which would be preferable to my friends.  I tried to remember (since I was apparently reliving the past), where we had sat before at the wedding.

At some point in my dream  was also at a very regal looking campus library.  There were some other people--middle age adults--looking around and admiring the views of the particular floors.  Then I was back in a class.  Luke was the professor and he kept time very ill.  The bell rang while he was yet talking.  We talked about him writing passes, and he did on plastic baggies filled with something--food, maybe?  However, I had another class with him, so the pass seemed a bit nonsensical.

Next I knew I was visiting my sister Faith.  Yet when I entered her house, it looked completely different, and I realized it was an exact replica of a place in which she used to live.  I spent a while at the door gaping at the whole thing.

Honors Program Disappointment

My dream began inside someone's home.  The honors program was going to host a get-together.  We were all supposed to have been doing independent projects/research of our own choosing.  Emily S. was making some sort of drawing or art piece out of paper.  She left her place for a while, and I resumed working on it.  I cut the background off the picture (it was brown paper with black crayon or pencil or something) and began creating something to go in its place.  I cut out a string of elephants in white paper and inserted them where the background had been before re-taping on the background behind them.  All this took place over the course of an hour.  Apparently this was the preparation time for the get together and soon the presentations would begin.  It was at this point that I realized that I had not done such a project, and I tried to rack my brain for project ideas.  The presentations began, though I still didn't have a plan.  I realized at some point that this was a two day conference and that I could present the next day.  This was a relief and I planned on getting up early in order to put together the said presentation.  I, however, did not get up early, and I went to the conference again with nothing to show for myself.  I had an overwhelming feeling within me, an awareness of the disappointment I would earn from Dr. Black, and it almost crushed me.  At one point I sought out Emily and entreated her forgiveness for having messed with her project though she had not solicited my help.

Foggy Teaching

The past couple nights, I've woken with only obscure memories of my dreams.  I know that the night before last I dreamed that I was the director of New Directions (yes, from the television show Glee).   This morning I woke up with the sensation that I'd been at an elementary school.  I guess the dreams weren't too different from life--one day of teaching blending into another . . .

Charity-Sized Nightmare

Last night, I had one of the worst dreams ever.

It began with me passing through town.  I was in S.C., Iowa, going through a neighborhood and stopped at some friends' place to hang out.  I found the house, and while going there drove past the home of more friends--where I was going to crash that night.  I went to the first mentioned place and saw some old friends/aquaintances from high school (Derek, Renee. . . .).  I went in and spent some time in the living room and kitchen--watching people play video games, and helping people move around their furniture.  Apparently someone was moving out or they wanted more room in their basement.

At some point I left because I was going to stay the night at the person's place down the street.  Instead of driving, I went to walk the couple of blocks to the other person's place.  At some point, the two houses and their residents became merged into one.  Before I knew it I was in the downtown area near a Casey's.  I ran into a couple of people from the house I was just at.  They said that I had overshot the house I was going to and wondered how had I walked passed it.  I was in a daze.  When I went over, I saw a firetruck, and my mind was lost in a whir of confusion.  Then my mind had a flashback, and I saw myself a few minutes before--looking like a male, with a gas can in hand.  Somehow I had intentionally set fire to this house.  I had poured gasoline through parts of it (apparently) and their video game came to life.   The spacecraft they were flying through the basement ignited the fire.  People were badly hurt.  I couldn't believe what had happened.

A new dream started.  I was at the group home I work at.  I worked a morning shift and then left.  Apparently I had to stop back in to check on some things.  When I went to leave, I asked one of the other staff if she wanted me to help load one of the residents into the wheelchair van.  Savannah said it would be helpful, so I took one of the resident's to the van.  I put on her wheelchair breaks, but did little else.  I didn't strap her wheelchair down or put on here chest strap, etc.  I thought about this when I got into my car, but I figured Savannah would sort it out.  When Savannah did finally get outside, I saw the wheelchair van rolling out of the driveway and down the street.  It had a significant amount of momentum and was turning left and right--going up driveways and rolling back out.  My first exclamation was, "I thought I had put on the emergency break!"  We had no idea how to reign in the out-of-control vehicle.  I went to call 911--and at first fumbled and fumbled over the numbers while dialing.  When I finally got numbers cranked out, I had to listen to an automated recording.  When I woke up from the dream, I still hadn't spoken to the operator, and I realized that I would probably be fired from my job and there would be some legal ramifications.

I've never been so happy to wake up.  Often my nightmares include people being disappointed in me, but rarely do my nightmares include me performing such negligent or malicious actions as to utterly deserve both such scorn and such legal penalization.

Female Fight Club

Last night's dream began with me driving to my childhood home in Iowa.  The home was simultaneously the group home that I worked for.  I went in for the 7 AM to 3 PM shift and continuously checked my watch to make sure my timing was okay.  While I approached the house, I saw a lot of cars parked there and saw that one of my cars was parked parallel along the curb, whereas all the other cars were parked perpendicular.  I thought I ought to repark it, but there was a green astrostar van that prevented me from being able to move the car at all.  Nearby  a police car was pulled over and a policeman was questioning someone.  Because of this, i was extra careful with my driving.  When I parked, I went to see whether there wasn't anything to be done about the Grand Am.

The police officer approached me, and before I knew it we were talking inside of my or his car.  He was a handsome police officer, and I was a little taken aback when he asked me out for that evening.  I agreed to it, and he told me where to meet him.  I went into work, and most of my time was spent at a sink, defrosting red meat.  That evening, I drove to meet him (the city I drove through looked like Minneapolis) and it was an old-fashioned movie theatre.  Somehow throughout it all I realized that before each feature there was a fight between two women.  It was sort of an underground fight club.  I arrived and saw him speaking with an Englishwoman--the three of us were all quite tall.  I told him that I'd thought about it and decided I ought to go home.  The other two agreed and, with her urging me to find a longer tshirt to wear, I departed.

Somehow, I ended up at the same location the next night, and found myself in the company of Ryan V. and some other female.  It was understood that I was actually going to fight in the fight club deal that night.  We waited outside, and I looked up at an old multi-story building. There were ragged banners outside displaying the films.  Once inside, I was brought to a stage and there were three females to a group.  Mine included Brittany M.  However, it was not a fight that occurred.  Some music played, and the three of us did an interpretive dance of a fight, with other groups of dancers also performing on the stage till it was quite crowded.  Apparently my performance was convincing, because at one point, Brittany thought I had actually died.

Much of the rest of the dream is fuzzy, but I do remember running into Jimmy at some point.

Parties and Classrooms

Last night's dream had me in something like a Gilmore Girls episode.  Or perhaps I should just say it contained the cast of Gilmore Girls.  I was at some mansion in the dream, presumably Logan Huntzberger's or Tristan's.  Their was a large group of people in the dream, and the house was vacated.  Something was being done in a garage full of fancy cars.  And Mr. Huntzberger had come to chastise the party as a whole.  I was doing my best to regulate the goings on, particularly restoring the garage to order.  For some odd reason the Mustang (maybe it was a Charger, but I'm not good with cars) was parked first and at the back of the garage.  Miscellaneous bikes and whatnot were being moved around to allow space next to the Mustang, but it was hastily done.  Dean maneuvered a rather clunky van towards the garage and spared the bikes only to hit the Mustang.  In my mind I knew that this was going to lead to some interesting plot developments.

Then before I knew it I was back at my old high school attempting to teach--with little success.  I had students working in different paces in two different groups.  Either the work was too easy or they were putting little thought into it, and the teaching was going horribly.  I was working in a classroom near Tammy D. F. slash I was also just using her classroom.  She observed my teaching and I was ashamed.  Having the extra set of eyes, however, did lead me to lead some lessons a little coherently.  I may have been making a bit of progress before the scene changed again.

Apparently I was back in the Czech Republic, in a group of people.  We had been singing or something, and at one point we began naming all the superior qualities of one Vitek.  I have only met one Vitek in the Czech, but the "Vitek" there (presumably the same one) was a bit shorter, and looked more American--to his detriment.  He was modest amid the praise and obviously a bit unsure of how to respond.  That is about the time I woke up.

I think this assortment of dreams may have to do with my continued reading of Mansfield Park as well as my upcoming departure for the Czech Republic to teach English.

Dances and Balls and the Centuries Between.

Last night was the night of dances and balls.  At first, I was in my old high school, and I could not tell whether I was a teacher or a student.  Mr. V-- W---- was there and one of the chaperones.  Everything was being put in order in the old gym.  During the dance something went awry and some massive light fixture caught fire--ending the dance.  The problems continued as I attempted to drive home.  I'm not sure if I was slightly inebriated or what, but that old drive down E15 was a struggle.

Before I knew it I was in another car, struggling again.  This time I was with someone--maybe my sister Hope--driving to a ball.  We had been searching for lakes, and found one that was seemingly endless.  We wound around the lake, searching for parking, and an angry/eager driver behind us found ways to swivel around us on the curve.  The lake had many ins and outs, shaped more like a puzzle piece than some kind of circle.  We had initially seen one parking lot but dismissed it, only to find the rest of the lake without parking, and often with trees blocking our view.  Somehow we stopped and we found ourselves inside a building.  Suddenly it was the 18th century or so and we were discussing which dances could be done in which spaces.  Prior to waking up, we were clearing out two adjacent dining rooms of their dark wood furniture in order to accommodate the dance.

(I was reading Mansfield Park before I went to sleep last night.)

Nacho Libre at NWC

You'd think I was sitting around watching plays--or at least watching movies--for the trends in my dreaming.

Last night I dreamed that my old art professors were to perform plays for the student body.  Joe S. eagerly ran in and claimed that he would be Jack Black's character in Nacho Libre.  The actual performance was to be held in some old gymnasium. 

Before I knew it I was in some unfinished basement and one of the other art professors, Luke, was curating a space on the wall about the size of a door frame.  He had in his arms about 6 capes on thick plastic hangers, and was ready to hang them in order to commemorate this event.

I played a Mermaid in The Tempest

In one part of my dream, the singles were supposed to get together from my church.  I made it out to the location, and apparently Shea was back from deployment and was leading some activity.  It looked like some military exercise/drill.  I came over and made mention that it was no longer a men’s only ministry.  He had missed this development while he was gone, however, I was the one who had to leave.

There was then some portion in which I was biking . . .

Before I knew it I was back at the high school where I student taught, only my classroom was in the unfinished basement of the house where I grew up.    Along one wall there were books after books along with movies—both DVD and VHS.  There was a very strong sense that the students knew I didn’t know what I was doing.  So, I began just organizing the books and DVDs.  I then realized I had some sort of honors course.  The overwhelming sense that I had was that I was incompetent and all my students knew it.

Class was dismissed (or something)  and the students were called to the auditorium.  There was a pool on the stage, and apparently there was going to be a performance of a play that I was in.  The play was apparently Shakespeare’s The Tempest.  (I’ve never actually read/seen this play, but apparently that’s what it was supposed to be, even if the following isn’t an accurate description.)

I was supposed t o be some sort of mermaid.  I had on some blue sequined swimsuit, and the beginning of the play was just me swimming around on the stage.  Later a Viking boat entered, and Jason Z was on it.  He was some character I was supposed to seduce, so I think I feigned drowning or something.   So, suffice it to say that not much plot was developed while I was on stage—I mostly just swam about.  The play was some sort of fund raiser for school, so they had a free-will donation among the students and one student busted out a rather large wad of cash.  This I witnessed while I exited the stage during intermission.  When I walked down the stairs, I dripped water all over the carpet, which caused a judgmental look to emerge from a student named Collen, who looked like a nerdy student of European-American origin, but who had a Japanese accent.

Indiana Jones Ledge

In my dream last night I was back In high school as a student.   My class was taken to a roof to look over the edge.  There was a 18-inch ledge about 5 feet down that we were supposed to jump onto.  It was sandy and covered with rocks (very Indiana Jones-esque).  When one did, he/she would fall through it, however, the ledge would slow down the momentum enough to keep from any severe injury while jumping.  So we were all jumping off the building.

At some point there was an attempt to have this activity again.  There was much more student interest this time around and somehow I lost my place in line.  I was then on a bus and got into some sort of scrape in which I had to choose which punishment I had to take.  The punishment wasn’t all that severe.

Small Town Festivals and the Tattoo Teacher

Last night I dreamed that went on an errand with some people (I think Sarah R. and my sister Heather) to Best Buy or Home Depot.  I biked, and really had to contend with traffic to get there.  I put my bike in a coat room while we shopped.  When we returned to the coat room, I found that my bike had been stolen.  I was kicking myself—especially since it was the first time I’d biked all season.

We left the place and soon I found myself walking through a school.  In passing a male high school student said I was a “tattoo teacher.”  I had no idea what that meant.  I asked another student, and she clarified that a “tattoo teacher” was a hot teacher.  I found this especially inaccurate as I was dressed very frumpily.  I spent some more time in the school, then proceeded to Story City.  There a town festival of sorts was going on.  While walking down the street, I had the urge to walk up into an orthodontic office.

There an old high school secretary was working as receptionist.  I made a comment that I just had the urge to walk in.  Then I looked in again.  The offices looked like a house, with split-levels and carpet everywhere.  Higher up, at a table for two, Rachel W. and Jordan W.—whom I went to high school with—were toasting each other with especially tall and dainty wine glasses.

I continued on my walk into a home.  It was the home of the B— family from church.  Alex—the elementary age son—and I were talking after dinner and he was trying to figure out if he had the accurate time on his watch, because of upcoming parade and firework action.  We soon left the house and headed towards downtown.  On the sidewalks, someone had painted four-square courts, and games were in full swing.  I recognized some other children from my church (did I mention in real life it’s VBS week at church).

These are the last scenes I remember clearly.  It was a pretty vivid dream, and my dreams have been especially vivid the last few nights.  I have just been slow to record them—instead waking early and running around, putting my thoughts on other things so that my dream is hardly acknowledged.

Conclusions without Beginnings

Remembering and forgetting and remembering again.  That is the cycle of dreams isn't it?  There's the brief moment shifting a car into gear when suddenly a flash of last night's subconscious journey appears.  The number of dreams I have been recalling lately has fluctuated, and in order to recall last night's dream, I must lock onto the key imagery: bicycles pulling into a garage, a large building--a school, perhaps?  No, there are only fragments now.  The most distinct portion was when I pulled into the garage of my St. Anthony place, accompanied by two other bikers.  I was riding my black Schwinn.   It was the end of the dream--pulling into the garage and shutting the garage door.

Often when I watch films or read books, I can recall the conflict and its development, but I struggle to recall the resolution and conclusion.  I suppose I can't but accept this inverse of habit.

Rich Relations and Transporting Goods

Friday night into Saturday (so the 15th into the 16th--or just last night) I crashed at Lynette and Matt's place.  It was quite the adventure--especially with the fire alarm at 5 AM.  My body must have registered that I was in an unfamiliar bed, because I dreamed that I was staying with some rich relative.  Lynette and Matt's place was kind of transplanted out into some east coast/rural/rich people place and that's where I was visiting.  I was about to depart and I was being very particular about trying to make sure that I packed everything I had brought with me.  This was being made slightly more difficult as I tried to figure out how I was going to borrow the attractive car (being lent to me by my rich relation) to bring my things home and also get the car back without wasting resources such as gas, energy, and time.  I ought to point out that I have no idea what kind of car it was, because I've never been able to catch on to recalling car models or manufacturers.  Suffice it to say that the car was silver and had some cool doors.

Not much of a plot, but maybe I can blame that on the fire alarm in the middle of the night.

DUI--and a unicycle

Last night's dreaming ws thick with the fact that I stayed up past 2 Am finishing The Help.  In my dream I was back in a shop class.  We were all making tables and I was fussing and fussing with mine to make sure everything was perfect.  I was drinking a beer while I was making it.  I realized how far behind I was getting on it due to being such a perfectionist about everything.

Class ended and I went home.  I thought I was drinking the same beer at home but then realized there was more in the bottle than I remembered. Then I realized that I was drinking and driving.  I was quite fatigued, and I didn't know what to do about the fact that I had an open container in my vehicle.  Finaly I just jammed it in between the center console and my seat.  Apparently I instantly thought more clearly and decided to bike to the shop.  In real life, the front tire is currently off my bike.  It held in my dream too.  So I went to get my dismantled bike, and rather than attaching the tire, it was like I was riding a unicycle and just holding the front tire in place.  This wouldn't due.  I noticed that I was missing handlebars.  I went back to see about finding them--back being biking down something that simultaneously did and did not look like Ames' Historic Mainstreet.

It was in all this confusion that I woke up.

Security Deposits and Substitute Teaching

My memories are scattered of last night's dreams.  The thing that comes to the forefront--which may have been sequentially last--was an incident with my former landlord.  In my dream I came to pick up a piece of mail or something from my old place--which looked like the home I grew up in.  I picked up the envelope and found two smaller envelopes taped to it.  One had my name on it, and inside was $5 and a note that said there was a scratch on the door that no one remembered/claimed and I was supposed to take that money to get something to patch it up.  I remember thinking that he had already paid me my deposit back in full.  Next I examined a couple doors and wondered which one I was to take care of and how to go about doing it.

The rest of the dream was at a school I hadn't been to before.  I think it was my old school district because Batista was there.  I was apparently subbing, and I had a little bit of fear/self-consciousness on how to procede through the classes.  They had a lot of free reading time, and during that time they were tempted, not to talk, but to go to sleep and to have snacks.  Later a helpful student came buy to empty the very full trash can.

The rest of the time in the school was vague and rushed--kind of like a real school day.  At some point I either went on a walk or conversed with Batista, but my memories are foggy.

Photography

Last night's dream was one in which my identity was obscure.  The protagonist of the dream was an obnoxious, dirty blond teenager.  I followed her around throughout the dream, but I don't think I was her.  At the beginning of the dream, I was traveling somewhere by car.  The highways wove and split and turned and arced all over the place.  It seemed an industrial wasteland.  I had the sense that there was some sort of political conference or something going on.  When I arrived at the given place, there was a chain link fence surrounding a deep-set pond.  This was not to prevent drowning, but to prevent swimming in the polluted water.

Apparently I was at some sort of photography studio.  The girl I was with was crazy about photography.  In fact, most of the scenes in my dream would begin with me looking on a scene and simultaneously viewing a thumbnail image of the scene.  However, I found that these little glimpses I would get revealed that the photography was actually very poor.  I remember in particular looking at a picture that had this protagonist in the foreground placed in the center of a road, arms akimbo.  She was framed by branches on either side.  Both her and the branches were silhouetted, but the viewer could see color and depth of field around her and the limbs.  The branches took up so much of the picture plane, however, that the picture overall was far too dark.

I continued to travel with her through this place, learning about her.  She was interested in shopping, shoes, jewelry, and photography.  At some point I also met a group of her friends.  I know that there was more than this.  There was some underlying plot, some motivation she had for some action or some relational tension she needed to resolve.  However, it escapes me.

World War I and the Draft

Last night I dreamed that it was World War I, only the time period was now.  I was on the front lines, and there had been a draft.  Nearly everyone was drafted--men and women alike.  I must have been a journalist because I was not fighting in the war, though I was on the front lines interviewing people.  I remember particularly interviewing Barb P.--my best friend in 8th grade.  She had been drafted.  During my interview, I always had my kindle with me, though at some point I lost it.  Apparently kindle's were quite common on the front lines--especially those with orange covers--and I kept finding other people's kindles.

Though a war was going on, I never saw the enemy.  I saw their gunfire that found us through the woods.  At one point there was a break or it was overnight or something and the whole gang went into McDonald's.  It was there that I spoke more in depth with Barb about her experiences.  She had risen to high society within the United States, and she spoke of what her husband was going through.  Later the dream shifted and the two of us were speaking in a hotel hallway.  She confessed that she wasn't using the real name of her husband.  When she uttered his real name, I realized he was a celebrity, known for his wealth and influence.  It was at this point when I had my biggest revelation, that I woke up.

Impulsive Spending

Last night’s dream was one in which I was very thankful that it was just a dream.  In my dream, I apparently was enrolled at the Salon Professional Academy (i.e. beauty school).  I don’t recall taking any classes or having to pay tuition, but I was going through their program.  I was there to have my hair cut or something, but for whatever reason, my appointment time kept on being shuffled around.  I, also, was being shuffled around.  During this time, the stylist asked me if I would be interested in buying a sample pack of hair products.  I figured this made sense, so I agreed.  She showed me four full-size bottles of product, held together by a large plastic hanger.  Instead of being a variety of gel and mousse, the bottles were mostly shampoo and conditioner with one other thing thrown in.  I saw the price was 38 dollars, and I thought it a little ridiculous.

Then she began to pull out more four packs, each containing different products, and each pack being around the same size.  I began to regret my hasty agreement to the purchase, and I wondered if I would be able to get out of it—especially since the stylist continued to show me attention for only a couple minutes at a time.  Somehow during this time, I also bought some sort of motorcycle.  I brought this purchase with me (somehow) when I drove to an elementary school in a school bus.  I didn’t want to leave the bike just parked somewhere, but rather, I wanted the bike to be brought inside, because I feared it would be stolen.  I actually considered putting a bike lock on it.  I was considering this opportunity, when I remembered that the elementary school had just put another motorcycle that I had just purchased on display.

I began to wonder about the state of my finances and why I was making foolish purchases.  Moreover, I wondered how and why I was enrolled in a beauty school.  Shortly after I woke up and realized I hadn’t inadvertently purchased two motorcycles—what a relief!

It Takes a Village to Raise a Child

My dream last night was no doubt influenced by the upcoming fun day on the lake with my church.   In the dream, Sharla and I were going to go somewhere together.  We had been in some building that had the same layout of my childhood home, and I was supposed to meet her in the parking garage off the den.

While I was trying to leave, some blond 3-year-old boy threw his arms around me in a giant hug.  It was darling, and I had to work to get him separated from me.  Nearby was a 6-month-old girl dressed in a frilly, white dress with a lacy white hat.  She was propped up with pillows.  Another child was there also and did something disobedient.  I raised my hand as if to swat at her, but instead scolded her with my words.  Her parents saw and were very angry with me.

So how does that relate to a fun day at my church?  I think it relates because of the community experience at the church and the hope that every adult in the church would do their part in ensuring the godly upbringing of children.  Perhaps that’s not phrased well, but I recently awoke.

Back to Work

It's hard to describe last night's dreams; it was as if my dreams were waking me up--and that was it.  My dream was that I was being woken up and I was being woken up.  This happened a little after 4 AM, then 5 AM, then I woke from an actual narrative.

One of which included me going to a morning shift at work (at the healthcare job).  Typically I work the 2-10 or 3-11, but I was working the 6-2.  I got there and realized it was a day one of the residents had to go to day program, so I immediately began getting him ready to go.  I ended up getting distracted by some things and was suddenly overwhelmed by all the staff that was there.  Apparently random employees of the company came over just to hang out in between things.  I found the other staff that was working and wondered if she had given the resident his breakfast and pills before he got on the bus.  At some point the house transformed into the house I grew up in.  I looked at the driveway and he was getting into the bus.  On my way out, I had noticed his meds were prepped but not yet given.

I then talked to Mai--the other staff--to see if she had given the medications or not.  My supervisor was around and talking so I remember talking to her.  Much of this part of the dream was the frustration that I was trying to get things done but was unable to really do anything.

At some point I walked out to the driveway--perhaps to go home--and I met three of our neighbors, two males and one female.  They were all African, and were around the same age as I was.  They said they had never met anyone who lived in the house.  So I introduced myself and we talked for a while, and one of them pulled out his camera and randomly began photographing our introduction.

My First Visit to Ostrava

My dream began with the prospect of doing parent-teacher conferences at my old middle school.  I had suddenly heard about them and was unprepared.  I figured they were in the evening, so I went to the middle school and planned on preparing for them after class.  Part of my lack of preparation was my wardrobe.  I was wearing red and yellow plaid pants.  While walking across the street with a student or someone, I walked knee-deep through muddy water.

When I arrived at the middle school, I found that instead of evening parent-teacher conferences, they were to start at 3 pm.  Moreover, this was the last day of school.  During classes I scrambled to finish things up and also to review with the students so that they would appear brilliant at the conferences.  At one point I remember a student specifically using the word "pointillism" in our review--though she had paired it with some other polysyllabic word.  Throughout the time the classroom was packed and at some point the conferences began, though I don't recall seeing a single parent.

Next I found myself at work at the group home.  At one point I realized I had taken three residents on an outing--I'm not sure how considering that would mean I would be pushing three wheelchairs.  From their it transitioned into being in the Czech Republic.

I think I was taking a train from the little town in Iowa to Ostrava, as if they were in the same state or country.  Simultaneously, it was as if I was traveling from Prague to Ostrava.  I had my camera with me and I was seated with Daniel J.--a friend from a past trip to China (in real life).  I began taking pictures of all we passed.  The train was a bit elevated, making for an interesting view.  i saw old building structures, including something like the catacombs.  All over, there was heavy building machinery, showing this was an industrial town.  I was in awe of all the beauty and during the ride I also saw a traditional wedding.  The aura of everything was not that I was in Czech Republic, but that I was in something straight from Arabian nights.  The people were darkly complected, and their even seemed to be Arab music.  The architecture, however, was like a dusty Russian architecture with spires and domes.  I think I was maybe transforming the Czech Republic into Turkey due to my friend Rachel's recent return from there.

I sensed we were on a train, but perhaps we were on a bus, because I remember looking out at the lanes of traffic.  Out there I saw paper-thin porcelain sailboats made by some artist.  I suspected Rachael (now Rachael W.) had made them.  They were beautiful and delicate and sitting on the painted lane dividers.  Some of the ships lay smashed, others were still in tact.

At some point we turned around and returned to a market area near a bay.  There were what appeared to be columns in front of a market tent, but the "columns" were made of strings of beads.  At each column was a man who would climb the column and then repel down it.  Nearby was a group of people singing or chanting.  They were somehow in or wearing this wooden structure while they sang; it was in the shape of an "s" and was hand-carved from wood.  The music was full of wonderful harmonies, and as I observed I heard some words (supposedly) by Anne Lamott.  She observed about the place that she would be overcome by the beauty of the singing every morning and night and she marveled at the unity it expressed of the people.

The singing ended and people dispersed.  The wooden structure was left, though now smaller, and I was washing it in the sink.  Before I knew it, the festive throng had joined together again, this time for a wedding ceremony.  We moved to an open field where we circled up, men standing consecutively, then women.  Two boys ran over to the women's section to be funny, but the master of ceremonies required they stay where they were.  The people in the circle were simultaneously adults and children.  I found that this dance of the bridal party was also to be a sort of red-rover-style matchmaking experience.  Before the two sides of the circle came together and predicted the match, there was a great singing.  It was like a chant and at first I thought it was a Buddhist ritual, but then in the words that were sung, I came to think that it could not be anything but Christian.  The words washed over me and spoke of love, brotherhood, and unity.  The particular phrases and words used escape me, but I was near tears in my dream from their beauty.  Unfortunately, the wonderful words were interrupted by my alarm.

Church Canoe Trip

Perhaps it is the frequent change of scenery and sleeping arrangements that has my dreams slipping through my fingers shortly after waking.  Or perhaps it is because I am so eager to hold onto my dreams that I suddenly find myself unable to recall their content.  Last night's dream, however, I was able to recall.

It began with me seated in a canoe in a body of water bordered on all sides with brickwork.  The bay area held many canoes occupied by persons from my church.  Backpacks and people were loaded into canoes as the group of us was to head off for a day's outing.  I had arrived early but remembered some item I had forgotten (perhaps a phone charger for the canoe) and was at odds to determine whether or not to retrieve the item because of the time.  I decided initially against it, yet the party was not to leave until our pastor arrived.  He was running late and I risked retrieving the item.  The rest of the group departed in my absence, and I was left to figure out the route alone.

I had run into what in my dream was North Minneapolis--though it resembled my small Iowa hometown moreso.  I took a back route through an alley and encountered a student that I had had while subbing.  I eventually made it into some sort of shop.  I was debating purchasing a car (canoe?) charger for my phone.  My phone battery was very low and I knew that I would be canoeing to the location alone.  I decided that I ought to make the expense in the name of safety.  I consulted with my friend and fellow-adventurer, Heather B., to figure out how to canoe from North Minneapolis to wherever the rest of the party was.  She told me about the direction of the rivers and I began to realize it was strangely similar to the rivers near Trout Lake Camp, where we had once been counselors.

I was just about to board my canoe alone when I awoke.

I think my dreaming may have been affected by my recent visit to southwest Iowa, viewing the Missouri River flooding, and also by my plans to join my church in a day on the lake.

Had a dream about you . . .

So, I've decided to allow for some guest-appearances in the blog.  However, because I am a narcissist, I am only allowing dreams others have had about me.  While walking into Cub Foods to buy a watermelon today, I received notice of such a dream via text message.

"Had a crazy dream dat we (u and me) were rescuing abducted kids from a ranch, then da bad guys came in and u beat every last one of them up.  U were punching n kicking everybody.  Me n da kids just stood there n awe! Isn't dat hilarious? :-)"

I was very entertained, and asked if I could blog it.  He wanted to send me a more polished email depiction, but then he decided on just laying it down and having me spice it up.  I am hesitant to do so because it wasn't my dream.  So here is his email, which relays a little more detail.

"It was winter time. Snow covered the ground as we tip-toed pass a beautiful black horse on a ranch. 'Come on. It's this way,' you tell me. The horse neighs as if to agree. We enter the house and go upstairs. The first room we enter there are 3 frightened kids, apparently, just waiting to be rescued. I go over to them, 'Everything's gonna be alright. We'll get you out of here.' That's when three men enter the room and Bruce Lee Charity attacks. You were punching and kicking, knocking the guys all over the room. The children and I just watched in astonishment. I think my mouth may have even been opened in awe. Afterward, the men lay on the ground moaning, you turn to us, 'let's go.' Then I woke up."

Jennifer Aniston and Twinkies

Last night I dreamed that while I was absent one night from my current accomodations, Yvette's brother came and stayed.

Then my dream shifted and I was in some kind of treatment facility.  Jennifer Aniston was there and someone started mixing a drink and she cracked and went for the vodka.  Later in my dream I was in a car, and we were supposed to go right--Dana was telling Nathan this--but Nathan got into the left turn lane because he wanted to go get Twinkies.  I really didn't want Twinkies for breakfast, but I felt helpless in the backseat.

Can you tell that the latter was a dream I had while waking this morning?

Childhood Dream Journal

"PRIVATE. FOR CHARITY'S EYES ONLY!"

This is what I wrote in pencil on the opening page of my Kittens Journal.  Yes.  Kittens.  I specifically recall receiving two such journals from my paternal grandparents at the end of my elementary years.  I had been crazy about books written journal/diary style and I was in possession of multiple journals.  Something in my 11-year-old mind decided to dedicate one of these journals to recording my dreams.  I have a glimmer of a memory--sitting on my day bed and writing out titles to cue me on which dreams I wanted to record.  Then I went for it.  I wrote down as many dreams as I could possibly remember in my first 11 years of life.

Reading through this journal, I came across themes: childhood crushes, tornadoes, childhood friends, and drama.  I was surprised to find that in many of my dreams I could stop a violent situation with just my words.  Anyhow, now if you go back into the archive to 1999, you will find 50 recorded childhood dreams.  Note the interesting vocabulary choices and the absence of the use of periods.  I made an effort to try not to correct myself and to leave the grammar, spelling, and capitalization as I wrote it in 1999.

Perhaps I will renew the vigor I had in '99 and take up the same task I took up then--writing those dreams down that I still have in memory but which I have never written down.  So it goes.  I hope you enjoy meandering through my mind this way.  I think certain themes come up that do reveal how I think and what I believe.

Disappointment

I was hesitant to post my dreams from Wednesday and Thursday night because both were a bit disturbing.  In one I was sexually assaulted and in another a friend of mine impregnated a girl out of wedlock.  I was telling a coworker about these dreams (unfortunately, I really do tell everyone about my dreams) shortly after describing a book I was reading.  I rarely want to put down a book, but this one I really did consider abandoning.  If I hadn't heard about it from a friend that I highly respect, I would have given up on it early on.  Intriguing, but a bit too graphic--hence the above dreams.

Friday night I had a dream that was typical of a Charity "disturbing" dream.  Usually if I have a stress dream, my dream features me not living up to people's expectations.  In Friday's dream, my sister Faith had passed on some responsibility of hers--as filmographer or photographer or something.  I was working on the project at my old high school under the leadership of my old high school art teacher.  I didn't do much to prepare for my responsibility and pretty much shirked the whole thing.  I woke extremely disappointed in myself.

Charity as an incompetent driver

Last night, my dream largely took place in a car.  Earlier in the dream I was at a store that Sharla had opened.  There were two stores in one building, one on the ground floor and another on the second.  Each had a different feel, but were like consignment shops.  Sharla had a Chinese family running the store for her.  I visited the store and then jumped on the road.  As I was driving, the car in front of me (an orange something or other) abruptly stopped and I accidentally rear-ended them.  I immediately saw a large indent on the back of their vehicle—more like a cannonball hit the car than another vehicle.  I pulled over and the two of us exchanged insurance information.  A large amount of time was spent choosing what paper would be used on which to write the information.

I began driving again—still alone in the car—and realized I needed to talk to Sharla.  So I put my car on cruise control and somehow got myself into her moving vehicle.  Once I was talking to her, I realized the folly of my decision—especially since we were on a road with many stoplights (I think we were southbound on Brooklyn Boulevard).   Luckily, there were police cars and ambulances coming, which ensured that the lights would remain green so that my car wouldn’t rear-end anyone.  I began to worry about getting back to my car.  I finally did, and somehow a pre-teen African-American boy was in the driver’s seat.  He said he needed a job, and I instantly thought of Sharla’s store (apparently I didn’t think of him being too young to legally work).  So, he continued driving to the store.  He wasn’t old enough to drive either, so I began teaching him some of the traffic laws he was violating as he drove.  But as a cop car passed, I realized he probably didn’t even have his driver’s permit.  We weren’t yet to Sharla’s store when I awoke.

Pregnant Dream--always a crowd pleaser

Last night my dream revolved around me being pregnant.  The question of how I became pregnant didn’t arise until about halfway through my dream.  I wasn’t showing at all, but somehow I was pregnant, and on my due date, I went into the hospital.  While in the hospital, they attached a tag to my shirt, predicting when I would give birth.  While wandering through the hospital, I saw some of my junior highers from subbing, and when they asked why I was there, I declared I was pregnant.  It was at that point that I realized that I was pregnant and unmarried, and wondered if my students were judging me.

During my time at the hospital, my friend Sharla asked to take me out.  We went to downtown historic main street in Ames.  There, on a side street was some tribute to the Beatles or where one of the Beatle’s lived.  Said Beatle approached us, and offered Sharla a rum & coke—however, I knew from the tone that he was offering her actual cocaine.  Sharla, not realizing this, was about to accept, so I had to decline the offer of illegal drugs for her.  We got back on the road, and at one point I had to use the bathroom.  We stopped on our way into Roland, and my water broke.  Only shortly before this did I realize that I could feel the baby’s heartbeat in my stomach,, (which to me was the quickening—even though I know that’s not the definition of quickening) and I thought it odd that it happened so late.  She brought me to the house I grew up in and I fell asleep.  Apparently I had the baby during the night, and in the morning I found Hope holding the baby—realizing I’d never packed a hospital bag or purchased a car seat.   Moreover, I was still wondering how I became pregnant.

I think my present state of living with a pregnant Krystal is affecting my dreaming.

Work Dreams

I worked an asleep shift at work last night, which largely affected my sleep.  I tossed and turned and woke frequently.  In my dream I attended some sort of faculty meeting for teachers.  After which I returned to the laundry room and air mattress (where I sleep at work) with a suitcase full of clothing.  As I tried to sleep, I woke to teachers rifling through my clothing like they were at a rummage sale.  Confused and unsure what to do, I went upstairs where my supervisor was.

Apparently, my supervisor has a brother that was living as a resident in the home—needing a lot of extra care.  Her brother was sitting at the table with her, while she was mixing drinks.  I heard her exclaim “vodka!”  I was a little concerned, because a vase full of vodka was within reaching distance of her brother.  She told me she was mixing drinks and offered one to me.  I wondered what to do.  She was technically not working anymore, but I would work again at 2 pm.

When I awoke from my real asleep shift, I went upstairs and saw my supervisor working on the schedule.  I told her my dream, and hilarity ensued.

So it begins

In the past I have recorded my dreams off and on for I have a history of being a very vivid dreamer.  As of late, I’ve been more inclined to tell others of my dreams and then promptly forgetting them.  So I decided that perhaps writing them here and sharing them with you might be pleasing to all.  This morning I frequently woke and fell asleep, which may have led to the many different dreams I had last night—which I will delineate here.

In one dream, I was at a college graduation ceremony in which I was graduating.  It was a diverse group of people and we were all sitting in cages—which no one seemed to notice.  Dr. Young was presiding over the whole thing and at one point wanted someone to read or recite something.  I knew the text, but I was too timid to volunteer myself.  He chose an old colleague of his to read it.  The man began reading it, then broke out in a soulful African melody, which everyone in turn joined in.

Upon leaving the ceremony, I was driving on the freeway.  At some point, I lost control of my vehicle, and somehow found myself witnessing what was happening to my car from an aerial perspective.  I was in a multi-lane residential road (think Portland in Minneapolis) and I began driving off the road and across lawns, as if the line of cars parked on the street was just another lane of traffic.  However, I lost control of the vehicle and bumped into a few parked cars before I got the car to stop.  I guiltily went up to the house to tell the inhabitants I’d damaged the car.  When I knocked, I realized it was the home of Maddy and Justin Jeppesen.  This softened the situation only slightly, and Justin told me it would be fine as long as I painted over the dents with some aerosol spray he knew of.

I went outside, and to my embarrassment the streets were lined with people readying themselves for an evening parade in Minneapolis for some festival.  My grand am still sat on Maddy and Justin’s lawn.  The neighbors were inspecting tire marks in their lawn, and  I jumped into the conversation and confessed my fault in the matter.  These middle aged white women were a little less gracious, though their car was barely scratched.  They spoke of towing the car and I told them I would pay for it, receiving a haughty “You bet you will!” in return.

Disappointed, I wasn’t going to see the parade that night and went on my way, finding myself in an art classroom.  Apparently I was back in Iowa being a long-term sub and it was my first day.  Things were going well until I heard some student in the hall use some sort of slur.  With my sternest teacher look and quite a fury inside of me, I launched into a speech for the whole class, delineating how I didn’t tolerate such speech and slurs against people of other sexual orientation, ethnic group, or ability level.   I particularly remember calling such language “lacking creativity” and revealing ignorance on the part of the student.

The whole scene made quite the impression on the students, as did whatever I had done earlier in class.  The next day students launched into drawings they had started prior to my arrival, yet they proceeded to each ask me whether their subject matter was difficult enough.

In another part of my dream I was at some social gathering (a wedding or a dance?) and witnessing my sisters Hope and Heather playfully bickering over who owned the oversize teal tshirt she was wearing.  In the midst of the chaos, some man I’d never met asked me to dance.  I danced for a little while—but apparently didn’t want his company, for then my dream shifted again.

I found myself in an apartment with a friend and her boyfriend.  They were both dressed in renaissance garb.  During this part of my dream, I began to have a 3rd person view, though I was an active participant.  I began playing the sitar, and my friend began singing.  (Within my dream I was extremely surprised with how well I played the sitar.)  She began dancing around the room, making a production of it, and I began to think we were in a film.  Having had that thought, I realized my friend’s voice wasn’t that good—and wasn’t that odd for a film.  Then I thought maybe it was a ploy to make the scene seem more realistic.

I think there were a couple more scenes that I excluded, but alas, I have not grasped all.  I am open to obnoxious interpretations—I’m quite partial to them.

Walmart

Once I had a dream that I was in Walmart with my class I pinched myself to see if it was real and it hurt so I thought it was. we went to this theater type place and I dropped my money and Logan P. picked it up and I got really mad because he took it.

The End

*This entry was transcribed form my childhood dream journal.  As much as possible I tried to leave spelling/grammar/punctuation as I wrote it in my journal.  Note that a common error was leaving out periods, thus stringing multiple sentences together.  Very few entries have specific dates, but all seem to have been recorded in 1999.  Those that didn’t specify dates, I dated June 1, 1999 or July 1, 1999.