Wednesday, September 18, 2013

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.

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.

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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