So now I'M driving?

Sunday, September 22, 2013

I dreamt I am in an office meeting. The topic: changes to the definition of "family" and "dependents" in the insurance policy.

"A family is defined as a married couple with 'sexually born' children (meaning naturally born to the parents, not acquired by other means). This distinguishes from two partners co-habiting with children." 

Why did they even call me into this meeting? It has nothing to do with me or my job. I start dozing off. I dream that I am outside of a parsonage with a big tree near the concrete driveway. I can probably climb it. There are older adults talking on the lawn. They aren't paying attention to me. I imagine how I would step up into the center of the main branches (it's pruned open for ventilation). I walk around the tree and notice the branch nearest the driveway is more vertical and has what appears to be rocks embedded in the wood. It looks as if the rock clasts are part of the tree. This branch is rotting, and I gently break a piece of the bark for closer inspection, but the whole branch snaps loose! Now, the others take notice... I think this must be a protected species and no one is supposed to harm/touch/collect any part of it. - I wake, still in the meeting.

The meeting is adjourned (finally!), but the other women at the table notice how late it is. The meeting started around 4pm, and now it is nearly 7pm! There had been some other activities in the office that same afternoon, and we have all missed out.
As I leave the office, I am greeted by an older woman who is rearranging items in her car. She asks me how the sale went.
"A couple of the girls told me they had some good sales today!" she tells me.
Confused, I reply that those must have come late in the day while I was in a meeting.
She says something encouraging like "it will be better next time" or something...
She and I are in her car with at least two others (one of whom is my youngest sister). The lady is rummaging in a bag (purse?) and talking to us. I wonder if she is going to get this car rolling ... limo, actually. We are in a Lincoln. The car slowly starts rolling forward. She has pressed the keyless ignition, but no one is steering.
"Aren't you going to drive?" I asked, slightly alarmed.
She and the others are still involved in conversation, so I slide into the driver's seat and take the wheel.
"This is why I hate big cars!" I mumble while steering this monstrosity of a vehicle along a narrow neighborhood street. "I hate BIG CARS, and I cannot LIE!..." I start singing (yes, to the tune "Baby Got Back" from Sir Mix-A-Lot!) and my sister joins in LOL her verse makes me wonder if there is actually a song "I Like Big Cars"... when she mentions the backseat, I joke that may be the only redeeming quality for having a big car! The others in the car laugh at my joke. I drive the car up a steep grassy hill ... truly, there is a communal path going up to a house, and I have been there before (per my dream), just not in a Lincoln. The car is too heavy and can't make it past halfway. I start slowly backing down the hill.
"This is where I am going to live," I explain to the woman that owns the car.
From the road, I can take a less steep path to the right... oh, through the trees! ... made it.. but now we are blocked by the patio wall (must be new since I've been here last?)... change direction again to go through neighbor's property. The path leads to his driveway, but only to his garages (where cars are parked) and to the house. The man next door is on his balcony with his son, as I can hear them talking. I think they are making something with wood. I see unfinished wood sheets and sawdust.
"Hello, neighbor!" I call out. "We are trying to find a way back down to the road."
He looks up. He looks around as if looking for the path to help me get pointed in the right direction...
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Psst! You need gum!

Saturday, September 21, 2013

I stayed up past 1am last night, and went to bed without brushing my teeth. Some odd things popped up in my dreams...

I dreamt that a high school classmate (Dave C.) needed a study partner for geology. I am a teaching assistant (?) for the class, so I am not available as a partner. The instructor suggests pairing him with the student he sat with last semester, as they seemed to get along well. The student (Cameron B.) is someone I know [from a "past" life]. I do not wish to be reintroduced to him, but I pass along the name and last known whereabouts to the professor. I am working on a project (pass code: OREO - I devised with a scrabble tile?) that involves soft green psuedo-styrofoam blocks on which I have written labels with dark green ink. I am in my mother's living room arranging the blocks in a shallow box. I muse that I will have to make a new account for the new password - truly? wouldn't it be more sensible to change the password on an existing account? Why make a new one?

I am in a small custom jewelry store. The owner (woman) helps me design a piece (for me? for a gift?). I will owe her around $40. I can pay now or when I come back. I don't have my wallet with me. I know exactly where it is - I had put all my keys, etc., in my pockets yesterday as I was avoiding carrying a purse when I went out. I'll need to come back. Walking to a wall display, she says to me, "My friend chews "Dentine" (she pronounces it "dentin"). Embarrassed, I reply, "Oh! I ran out of the house this morning without taking a shower or anything! I'm so sorry!" - I didn't realize my morning breath was so toxic! Plus, I was trying not to be too close when talking with her, because I knew my breath wasn't fresh. I tell her I'll need to come back, and I leave.. with my father and his friend, Bernie.
...Dad and Bernie are each bringing a large pelt rug. Bernie is carrying a large brown soft leather skin with fur around the edge. Dad is carrying a large white shaggy rug (llama?), and it drags on the grass. A large wolf-husky type dog lays on the rug. Dad tells me, "Bernie says these are antiques, but he figures the dogs might like to lay on them." We laugh because the big dog has already claimed one! We need to walk, and I gently tug the rug from the big dog. The dog growls and gently snaps at my left hand, but I don't let go. It snaps at my hand again, still not breaking the skin. Bernie scolds the dog, and it backs away. I pick up the smaller dog (a Dachshund mix?); Dad and Bernie carry the rugs. The big dog follows me as we walk up the shaded grassy bank. The dog stops to pee in a sandy spot. The little dog jumps from my arms to join suit. Dad calls for us to catch up. The little dog runs up the hill. In the center of the bank, there is a small culvert maybe 18 inches square with sand and gravel in the bottom. There are large ants. "Watch out for these ants," I say to the dog behind me. "Um, ok, thanks," says a stranger (guy) who is also behind me. Poor guy! I was talking to the dog! I look for the little dog and see he has already crossed the road. I quicken my steps.
(There's a red brick building on the other side of the road, with a manicured lawn and trees along the street... like an older university?)

We drove to Hawaii... in a car!

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

I dreamt all night. Many small dreams that may be loosely connected by ambiguous segues. The main segment of the dream was my older sister and I in a car ... in Hawaii. I said to her, "We drove all the way to Hawaii!" [I must tell you, this is not an impossibility in the dream. It was a long way to drive, but in the dream, there is a workable means of driving there.] Somewhere around Nevada, we had decided to drive straight through to Hawaii. I start thinking how I need to find a rock as a souvenir (it's what I do), and how I didn't need to ask my friends who are coming to bring one back for me, because I can get one myself (but, I didn't know that I would be here when I asked). The weather is nice and sunny with a few clouds. The dirt road we are on is well maintained. There are bungalows with yards and trees on one side and fields of tall grasses on the other. We get to town, and there is traffic. My sister is in the backseat holding a spotted dog (like a chihuahua, but maybe a terrier - male, jealous of other dogs). I am in the front passenger seat. A friend is driving. As we are stopped at a traffic light, a young woman with a similar dog to ours sees our dog and approaches the car. The windows are down, and she sticks her head in to greet the dog. My sis is alarmed. I don't mind, except I put my hand on our dog to prevent him from seeing the other dog. Our dog licks the woman's face, and, greetings over, she walks away. ... We park the car on the street. Walking away, I notice our car is a white four-door sedan or hybrid. We enter a mall and take several turns to find our destination. We pass a gentleman (Penn, from Penn & Teller?) who stops to tell me that he is going to be me (or similar, from now on?). I choose my words carefully. "Oh? Good luck with that," I tell him, trying not to sound sassy. My group continues winding through the mall. I joke we will never find our way back to the car and will have to call the police to find it again. "It has North Carolina tags, we'll say. They will tell us, 'Oh! There are three such cars on the island today. What color is your car?" I think I am funny, but no one else seems to be listening.

We are sitting in a crowded restaurant. The full table nearest us has been seated since 5:30pm. We arrived nearly the same time? We look around, and the restaurant is nearly empty. The time is 8:13pm, and I muse that people must have come in for dinner and are leaving to see a 9:00 movie. This idea seems plausible to the group. We stay and talk.
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University. I am going to be barely late to my first day of class. I am using Google Maps or similar to find my way. I read street signs and look for the ZE Building. I meet a few professors in the lobby of the ZE building where my class is supposed to be. I am told that the Intro to French language class has been canceled, but Art Appreciation 101 is taught in its place. [I have mixed feelings about this, because I feel I could have placed higher in French, but I do enjoy the language.] The art professor takes me to the course listings that are posted on a large yellow chalkboard. I notice on the schedule that the University used to (still does?) teach the language "Topaz" and had several intro and intermediate class sections listed. The listing is faded, and could be no longer current.
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On a movie set that includes a model of the space shuttle or space station. I am outside the ship, and I am wearing a space suit and helmet. I am learning to reach and grasp hand and foot holds on the exterior panels. As I climb over the end of the ship, a woman emerges from the hatch without a helmet. I say to her, "You need your helmet." She ignores me. I step away from the set, and as I remove my helmet and gloves, I hear another crew member tell her she needs to have her helmet on every time she goes outside the ship. She tells him that she will not wear it. I mention to the stagehand helping me that the critics will be all over [the movie] for such a blatant error. The woman without a helmet approaches me, but I look away from her and notice the sky outside the studio. There is a vortex gathering in the clouds. What is strange is that there is a curtain of clear water below the vortex, and the water begins to descend. I am talking to someone on my cellphone. I tell them, "We've got a waterspout. I've gotta go," and I hung up. I give a warning and start walking toward the inner room. The set is staged inside a glass walled studio. The library in the next room has fewer windows. The woman suggests that it's not local, but a regional cyclone centered over the area. When the funnel starts descending, she changes her mind. Others are following me. I walk back to the studio. The sky looks normal, but I see people sitting all along the low windowsill. They are sitting with their backs to the window, and heads down. I tell them to get away from the windows. They start for the library. I go back to the library to find people (young men) sitting in the window sills with the heavy drapes pulled over them (as if they are hiding behind the curtains). I tell them that if the window breaks, the shards will cut their heads and necks. One replies that he will be okay because he has his coat (a flannel hunting coat) and hat. He pulls his collar up to show that his neck is protected. The other young man moved away from the window.
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Ron... We're on Mars!

Friday, 06 September 2013:

I am on Mars. I see black velvet sky with more stars than I have ever seen. I can't make out constellations. The world around me is illuminated by the starlight. I can see the red and blue hues that have become familiar to me from the images returned from the Mars Rovers. I am a little overwhelmed, excited, bewildered, but I maintain my composure. There is a low outcropping ahead with a few exploration tools (I see a rock hammer). I am accompanied by a man, a fellow astronaut, Ron. It is night, and we sleep under the stars. (No, no romance here! It's all business.)
"Ron," I say, "We're on Mars!"
No answer.

When I awake, it is still dark. In the distance to my left, I see the peaks of two shield volcanoes which appear to have been dormant for a very long time. The image is in grayscale, and there is shadow between me and the peaks. The mountains appear to be floating in the inky sky.
"Ron," I say, "We're on Mars!"
No answer.
"It took me a day to get my mind together, but I am ready to get to work. I guess we should start collecting rocks."
I look around. I notice that we are not wearing bulky suits nor helmets. We are breathing the air normally. My mind starts racing with thoughts, How can this be? Where is the oxygen coming from? In front of me, just beyond the rock outcropping with the hammer, I can see daylight and trees through what appears to be a doorway.
"Actually," Ron replies, "before we do this," he indicated the rocks with the hammer, "we need to cut down these bamboo." He walked outside and down the cement steps. "These aren't actually bamboo, but the leaves will harden into shards and fall making it difficult to ..." [accomplish some manual labor task in the wooded grove, I wasn't listening... there are TREES?]
"Yucca," I say. They aren't yucca, but it's the first thing I thought of. The trees are short, only about twelve feet (4 meters) tall, with rough black bark. They taper toward the top with sparse green palms... PALMS! I just figured that out! There are three, maybe four, of these palms growing just inside a wooded grove of trees.
"Do they cut easy?" I ask.
"Not really. There's a machete," Ron gestures toward a small machete in the grass near a.. magnolia?


So, after waking,  I'm thinking... if this is Mars, we aren't the first ones here. If it isn't Mars, this is reminiscent of the alleged Moon Landing Hoax* that supposedly took place all on a Hollywood set... This is very Hollywood set...

*Please do not misinterpret that... I am a HUGE supporter of NASA and space exploration, and I firmly accept and believe that Apollo 11 astronauts, and later others, have landed on the moon, and that we have successfully landed unmanned craft on Venus, Mars, and Titan.