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.