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11-11-2013 -- [Probably earlier bits I can't remember.] Am on what seems to be a sort of college campus, perhaps in a quad or something. There are a lot of people around and a lot of arguments. Politics or racial issues (repub vs dems or America vs Islam), and a lot of people feeling very strongly or getting upset. There is a blonde professor (female) and Lisa Williams (the DJ, not the psychic) arguing about the issues, and things get tense enough that they actually reach the point of getting into a bit of a fight, shoving each other around and throwing blows.

At one point in all this, I get caught in a legs scissor by a massive guy who is crushing me and causing me some serious pain as he squeezes me with massive tree trunk legs, but I eventually manage to wrestle my way free. At one point I end up sitting down on a bench and talking to a young woman (brunette, 18-20) who thinks I am an idiot, but doesn't particularly have anything against me. Right now she is griping and complaining about her mother, who is the blonde professor. The girl kind of reminds me of Faith from BtVS.

The professor comes along and is arguing with the girl, and seems to be raking up leaves as well, cleaning the area up. She is blonde, somewhere in the age range of 45-50, and has large breasts. She is wearing somewhat loose clothes, and when she bends far enough over while raking and gathering leaves, her impressive breasts end up swinging out, and I am enjoying watching her. She either doesn't notice, or doesn't care, but does ask me to help with the raking, and gathering leaves, even as she is asking about the size of my lawn waste garbage bags. I tell her I don't know what size they are, only that they are fairly big. I don't really want to do this, but it will keep me close to be able to keep enjoying those breasts, so I agree.

I grab a broken rake (the part of the handle remaining is only about three feet long) and start to do some raking, gathering up leaves, and avoiding several 2"-3" thick branches the professor has stacked in a pile on the ground. Soon I also find myself gathering up some litter and garbage out of the gutter, and dodging a somewhat large and possibly danger spider under some of the junk. Meanwhile, a cement truck is backing up to the curb, though I don't know why. Gathering more leaves, and the professor (who is still falling out of her top) invites me home with her and her daughter for some coffee and maybe some food. I am hoping this is going to lead to something pleasant, so I agree, and suddenly we are there.

The house is kind of damaged, and packed with lots of junk, and I manage to find the worn and beaten coffee maker and haul it over to her, then ask her to look at it and see if it needs anything else, so that if it does, I can start looking through all the junk, trying to find it. She says it ought to be OK, and says she is making some meatloaf. This worries me since most people make meatloaf with onions, and I am kind of mildly allergic to onions. The daughter is helping with some of the clean-up and still griping, and I may have kind of half-woke, because I find myself trying to recall the earlier bits of the dream (Lisa and the politics and stuff) and am looking for something to write them down on, but am having problems finding anything.

Suddenly instead of being in the professor's house, I find myself in an enlarged version of the Pageant house, but it is owned by Rosemary. This is like several other dreams in the last year or so, where my room is in the same place, but is a lot larger, and there are four beds in the room, and four of us share it. The whole room is quite messy, with everybody's stuff and clothes strewn all about the place. One of the other roommates (who reminds me of one of the roommates from the Amidon house, though I can't remember his name) is complaining about the mess, and I point out that I am only one of four tossing stuff everywhere, but say that since Rosemary kicked me out, within another week or two, I will have all my stuff out. Meanwhile, I am still looking for an envelope to write the early part of the dream down.

I take a few minutes to pet Lady (one of Rosemary's dachshunds), and the unhappy roommate wanders around cleaning some of his stuff, when Rosemary comes bustling in. She seems unhappy with me, which doesn't surprise me. What does surprise me is the seeming reason. She demands to know why I wasn't around for Thanksgiving dinner, and complains of lots of food that didn't get eaten. I explain that, after our last argument, and how she threw me out, I didn't think I was really welcome. Turns out I was.

Anyway, I finally find an envelope to write the dream down on, but as I am trying to do so, the unhappy roommate starts spraying something on stuff. There is no pleasant odor, so it probably isn't an air freshener. It might be a bug spray or something. But since he is spraying it on clothes laying around, books, and even some comic books, I'm getting a little worried. He tells me the comics are his, and not some of mine, but still.... Meanwhile, I still can't concentrate on writing down the dream, and Rosemary may be coming back to do more ranting, so I decide to try and go back to the professor's place.

I exit the house, and find myself on a hill. It may be in Omaha, or possibly in England. It has some of the feel of both. I am wearing roller skates, and find myself rolling down the hill very fast, so step off on some grass to slow myself down for a moment. I see a cop in a patrol car, and am worried he'll hassle me, but I have my back to him, and he drives right past me. I continue down the hill to the main street, and make a right turn onto it, just to discover I have no idea where the professor lives. So I just start wandering the neighborhood, hoping to recognize something.

Eventually, I step into a house and am wondering if it is the right place, then I find an answering machine, and it is my sister's, and I find that the message I left her, that I worried couldn't be heard because of my voice, actually came through better than I expected. About that time the professor's daughter tells me I have been rude, and to sit down and eat the huge steak her mother cooked for me, so I guess I found the right house.

9/20/2013, 22:00-5:00

I was reading the book "Exploring the World of Lucid Dreams" a lot before bed. I also meditated a bit. Also, I drank some water before bed, and thought some mantras in bed before sleeping. All of this got me two dreams and a lucid!

Dream 1:

I was in school. I was sitting in some teacher's class, to the left side of the class room. I was noticing a girl to the right and one desk behind me. That's all I really remember.

Wake Up:

I woke up at 3:43, and stayed up until 3:46. Pissed and drank some water during that time.

Lucid Dream:

Regular Dream Lucid Dream

I was in a dream about politics. I think there was something about Obama's Affordable Care Act in it. There also might have been something about someone's butt. I think these two absurdities, combined with what I did before sleep, caused me to become lucid. I remember feeling a small rush of energy this time, so I wasn't really that lucid, but lucid nonetheless. I fell out of bed, trying to go through the floor of my bedroom, but I just landed on the floor and started "lagging" in and out of the floor :/ . I then tried to crawl to my door, but the dream faded before I could get there.

Dream 2:

I was in this sort of hotel-children-summer-camp thing. I was one of the mentors. This kid, who looked exactly like L from this summer came over to me and said he had to pee. I brought him to the bathroom, and Lucas and I went in too, for some reason. L started peeing, but he then "couldn't control" it, and he started pissing EVERYWHERE! He pissed on the walls, he pissed on the door, he even pissed on ME! Then, while this was happening, a black kid came through the door (probably another kid from this summer) and saw what was happening. He just closed the door and ran, while the bathroom was getting pissed on by the damn Lucas doppelganger. The dream ended there.

I recall a vivid lifelike painting showing parallel extremes. It looked very much like a storybook unfolding. There where two humanoid beings with extremely large heads. One looked incredibly grotesque, portrayed in dark colors, while the other was angelic with creamy fills. Both, however looked unsettling after viewing for a while. Now, that I think about it, the painting was portrayed more like a comic book panel that a straight painting.
One section would show a being exclaim, "I strive to beautiful, while the other muses, I strive to be ugly. The beautiful one was shrouded in a silhouette with some type of instrument or weapon. This was contrasted with the dark one mutilating his body with a similar weapon under the same silhouette. Corny as it may sound, words cannot express the sheer eldritch sophistication of the art in my dreams, which is really rings true considering my grammar sucks.

The next sequence had to do with TYT (The Young Turks) calling out another program of sorts. They took turns bashing one another. Nothing really stood out other than I couldn't remember what the second organization was.

I had very little sleep that night due to waking up for a job around 5:00 a.m. and I also took two menthol lozenges that night.

08-29-2013 -- [Short dream with not too much to it, that turned out to be quite detailed and long.] Something about cats, other animals, and possibly digging holes in the back yard at the Hickory house. Something else about BC being around. Then I find myself in a classroom setting. It feels very like a high school class, though the teacher is Julie Davey. No idea what the subject is. I've just finished a test of some sort, and it seemed somewhat quick and simple. I seem to be spending the time afterward brainstorming some fiction writing or something, perhaps a Victor story, when Julie comes by for my test, surprised I am done so quickly.

I explain I think I did quite well, and she agrees, knowing how I always seem to test pretty well, and I start rummaging through my things until I come across the newspaper clipping we were supposed to be reviewing after the test. Glancing at the picture, wondering what it is about, I see almost a full-size model of a rocket, made out of huge balloons, and am thinking how I've made a similar ship out of a 160 and a bee body many times.

Julie looks at the clock, and it is just a couple of minutes before 5:30, so she tells us to start gathering our things, and get back to a more usual seating arrangement than the random groupings we'd been in. I end up sitting next to a cute blonde, waiting for the last couple of minutes to end, and we somehow seem to be talking about how about half the class had left at 1:30. Perhaps it was an optional class or something.

Class is soon over, and I find myself approaching Dale's house. I almost seem to be floating over the Nabisco plant to reach his driveway. (Considering later in the dream I am lucid and do some flying, perhaps I was flying here, as well.) I am driving a car, but as I approach their driveway, I remember something about them repaving it, and I walk up carrying my motorcycle, trying to get it on the strip of grass next to the paved driveway, where all their cars are parked, right now. (In real life, that strip of grass is at most a foot and a half wide.)

I find myself passing three animals that seem to look a lot like wolves, and I am a little worried, but not much. Then they shift and sit up, then start to hop off, and I realize they aren't wolves, but kangaroos, and wonder what the heck they are doing in Buena Park? Somehow I seem to be soaked, so I am taking off my pants and shirt and dropping them on the cycle, and wrapping myself in a big gray towel. About that time, Kevin wanders out of the house, says a couple of sentences of what seems to be gibberish, and then climbs in a car and drives off, which worries me. (He's not allowed to drive.)

I open the door to the house and walk in, only thinking about what I might walk into to barging into somebody else's house without knocking after I get inside, so I kind of bashfully knock on the wall. Fred and Betty are in the living room, and they don't seem to have minded my walking right in. I spot odd movement on the floor, and find myself looking at an odd white and pink puppy that seems to be a cross between a bijon and a poodle, though the coloring looks like some of the white and pink snakes I saw pictures of on the internet a few months ago. Soon I see two more wiggling out from under the blank. I ask Betty "You got new dogs?", kind of surprised. She tells me they don't know if they will keep them.

I have brought a cheap pizza with me, and open the refrigerator to put it in there, and see they have maybe 3/4 of a huge 26 inch party pizza from Ciro's sitting in there, pepperoni and sausage. Wish I'd known ... I wouldn't have bothered with the lousy one I got. I'm thinking I have to see if I can snag a couple of slices. Meanwhile, I am trying to find Dale, so I walk a few feet down the corridor to his room, but when I glance inside, he has a couple of girls in there, with him. [Not doing anything wrong ... this isn't that kind of dream.] I'm thinking about razzing him about it, until I realize I am still walking around wrapped in a towel, and decide I had better get some clothes on. It seems today is a big ball game of some sort, and they have a lot of people over to see it.

I walk outside, wanting to get my clothes, but somehow the area has changed a little, and I have to climb a fence (like we were going to visit Bertha) to get back to where my motorcycle is parked, I finally find it, and grab my blue shirt and start putting it on, just to discover I am putting it on over the top of another one. Somehow a shirt and pants just appeared on my body, and I realize I am dreaming. I try to hop the fence back to Dale's, but somehow I seem to be being pulled in the opposite direction. So I leap up and try to fly, and manage the flying, but am getting sucked at high speed toward what was the Nabisco plant. I go crashing through a wall, and find myself standing in a room surrounded by people.

It seems I have somehow been kind of summoned, as I am now surrounded by lots of people, and they have called me to be a candidate, as they try to figure who they want as their candidate for president. There are a bunch of other candidates as well, and they are talking to people, making speeches, and all of them are holding on to their wives. Every one. I look around and see an attractive blonde (she kind of looks like Reese Witherspoon) watching everything, and I grab her and pull her to me, just kind of joking around. She turns to tell me off, and our eyes meet, and wow! It's like we suddenly know everything about each other. Her head kind of tilts to the side as she studies me, and a small grin starts to form on her face before I lean in and give her a gentle kiss, then wrap my arm around her shoulder. We're now a couple, and very happy to have found each other.

But she is working here, and has things to do, so I have to let her go for a time. The others and I are writing speeches and songs or something, and I am singing a little ditty I've been working on. It's not fabulous, but it's not too bad, either. But one of the others makes a really nasty comment about it. I turn to him, ready to rip into his song, but I don't really want to run that kind of a campaign, so I have to settle for simply telling him his needs some work, too. Besides, I don't really have all that much interest in singing some kind of political song. Instead, I decide I want to sing to my new love, and am trying to remember the words to a song I wrote about 18 years ago called Love with Me. In waking life I can remember it fine, but in the dream, it was a struggle. Meanwhile, I have no voice, so I am not going to be able to sing well, but I hope the words (and the fact that I wrote it) will still have meaning to her.

Dale is here, as well, and we are wandering around the convention, and for some reason I am carrying a fire hose with me, though it isn't spraying. We're just approaching a stadium, and preparing to look for seats, and I am wondering just how much length this hose has, as I've dragged it a pretty far distance by this time. My new girlfriend shows up, and I drape my arm around her shoulder, lean my head against her, and just relax in the wonderful feeling of having her there next to me.

Date: 24 May

Total sleep time: 7 hrs

Pre bed: SJW, 100 mg B6

WBTB: 2x200mg peppermint oil tablets

Dream quality, lucidity and recall: My dreams were extremely vivid today, I dare say, more vivid that real life. I believe this was the reason why I got a number of lucid moments during the night. While being aware that this is a dream, I continued to engage in the dream, soon losing lucidity. My recall has been rather poor again, which made it harder to figure out how it all happened.

Sleep schedule: I had trouble going to bed on time last few nights, but avoided taking sleep aid supps (mel and valerian) for a number of reasons. Messing up my sleep schedule has made me feel very sleepy and possibly affected my recall.

Dream zero: lucid, happiness, no other memory

Fragment1: some kind of game, rocks, I am walking around

Fragment2: my parents at some event

Fragment3: FA, in my bed recalling the previous dreams and happy I just had a lucid. I am between dream and waking state and I realize that this review is taking place in my head. I drag myself out of the dream and wake up to dream journal properly.

WBTB: upon wake I notice how sleepy I am. I try to recall the lucid, but only remember the feeling and no other details. I hold the memory of Fr1 and fr2 in my mind. I go to take some peppermint tablets, then back to bed. I quickly fall asleep forgetting almost everything.

Fragment4: I want to make tea, I am looking at an unused teabag of green tea, which becomes a box, containing two black teas and one green. On the green one is written "blue goddess" and also "hotel memorabilia"

Dream5: We are at some party and it is really late. Lucid moment. I meet a classmate that I like and I want to tell him something. (something like shared dreaming attempt residual that I keep on doing in some lucids). I tell him to come with me in the other room for five mins, but he refuses. I am thinking about my dad coming to pick me up when the party is over, etc. Another classmate of mine (f), we talk with her, she is one of my best friends. She shares that she is really unhappy with her life, and so on. Very emotional connection with her irl and dreams. She begins to cry, and I embrace her, we stay like this for a long time. Another friend of mine (f), comes and joins us and three of us are holding hands in some silent act of consolation...Lucid moment. Memory gap. We are arranging to meet at our new dream apartment, which looks really nice.

Fragment6: someone has bought a toy, it is a car that behaves like rat because it can climb on the windows

Fragment7 DILD: I am in the suburbs, a familiar place but it looks like it is in the past, so I become lucid. Someone is after me, I am running, climbing a fence. . I think I was trying to figure out a way out of the situation, but I cannot remember anything else.

Dream8 DILD: I am on the street and see a small boy and his mother. The vividness is incredible. He throws large stones at me, I am worried that he will break my ipod with the stone, but it is ok. He continues throwing stones, while initially concerned about my safety I realize this is a dream, so no need to worry that much. The stones are very colorful, lots of them on the ground. I pick up one and go menacingly to the boy. I can't bring myself to throw one at him, so I decide to threaten him instead. I do so, in pseudo French. It is really hard to express whatever it is that I am trying to say, so I end up making strange words that don't exist. At this point or a bit later I lose my clarity. I go over to his mother and begin apologizing about my French.

Dream9 DILD: Family and other relatives are discussing politics, I try to remain impassive. I am indulging in a chocolate cake and then drink some mayo salad that grandma has made. It doesn't taste as usual, and I say it out loud, grandma is a bit offended. Family is leaving somewhere. I am on the bus station in my hometown, cross on red light, and continue on my way to our old home. As I am walking, the dream kind of jumps forward, so I find myself in front of our door. I think to myself "Why did I decide to walk, when I know I could just teleport here?", Hmmm, teleport here? I am aware that this is a dream now. I still want to go in the place so I start unlocking the door. Then suddenly I hear a slightly scary metal sound, like movement of keys. I remind myself not to pay any attention to it, and that it will disappear. Instead it gets louder, comes closer.

I concentrate on unlocking the door, but even as I move the key, the door won't open. I begin thinking why is that, the sound is now really close. I decide to face it, and look down the stairs. Pfuu, it is just my dad! He comes and opens the door and we are in! I am in the corridor with dad, it is dark, and kind of...too dimensional. I am talking to him, but it is hard, and my voice sounds really distorted. I try again but the effect is the same. My prospective memory finally activates, recalling the first two of three step task, interact with a DC, ok. Then eat something. I see a small plant in front of me, and think no! I head to the kitchen to look for food. It is dark, the furniture is different and I cannot remember where the fridge is. I finally find it. At that moment dad comes with some strange foamy orange juice cocktail drink. I take it and think for a while whether that counts as eating something, then have a drink. Before I can enjoy any taste, the dream totally falls apart and I am back in my bed. I remain still and wait a bit, but nothing happens, and begin to think too much, so I wake up. Note to self: maybe be a bit more patient next time?

Comments: I have been getting more of these lucid moments but I really don't know how to account for them in my private dream count as well as on DV, because they are kind of short and I'm having problems with lucid recall.

At the end of the month, I probably will be including a total count, with a reference how many of these are micro-lucids. Before, I counted every lucid I had as plus one, but now I look more at the length and quality. This is getting so confusing. Anyways, I still think it is a very good progress for the past two months. If my dream control ever gets really good, one day I would like to go back and relive those dreams and remember them in full detail.

In this long and complicated dream I was somehow involved in politics of Poland (my country of origin, where I was born, but now I am a US citizen in real life).

There was this blond thin very pretty very charismatic woman who in my dream was in a position of power in Polish politics and was also a close family friend on my mother's side of my family.

She and a large group of people where house guests at my mother's home, and I was communicating with them mostly via phone and texting.

One time we arranged to meet. The setting was an outdoor cafe with the tables and chairs set up on a bridge for some reason. When I arrived, the important woman, a male assistant of hers, and a prisoner were already there. We were going to interview the prisoner to find out important information from him, but I do not know why he was a prisoner and what the important information was. There was no chair for me, so when I arrived, they first pulled several empty chairs from a neighboring table, and had to readjust it, so that there was only one empty chair for me. The prisoner's restraint had to be removed so that he could talk more freely. It turned out that he only had one restraint to begin with: a hair restraint, and so the assistant cut the restraint restraining the prisoner's hair. (How a hair restraint would suffice for a prisoner, and how it would prevent him from speaking freely - my dream did not explain any of that, nor did I question it.)

Change of scene to a political rally. The important woman was talking and saying "... And that's why capitalism failed in Poland." I interjected, "Excuse me, but as a proponent of capitalism, I have to correct that capitalism did not fail in Poland, it was designed to fail. What those in power called capitalism was designed to be unacceptable to people, so that they would beg those in power to abolish Capitalism. Which is what those in power had wanted all along." While I was talking about begging, I enacted the gestures of putting my hands together in exaggerated begging, and my perspective changed so that the powerful woman was higher up and I was begging her from below.

I do not know what the consequence of my interjection was because I then woke up.

Fragment 1: about personal finances and 401k retirement plan.
Fragment 2: a fragment of a dream about my grandmother go alas is no longer alive. In my dream she was frail, so toward the end of her life.

05-04-2013 -- I am back working a shift at the Mercedes dealership I used to work at, and the other guard is hassling me because I can't seem to open my eyes ... literally. I can hear everything that is going on, but I can't see it because I can't wake up ... or maybe because I haven't fallen deep enough asleep. Anyway, he is also complaining that I am in the reception area, because they have changed policies, and they no longer want us in that area, even though that is where the security monitors are. I'm thinking if they want to make that big a fuss without actually bothering to tell me, they can fire me!

I've just come on, and the dealership is filled with hundreds of people ... far more than are ever here normally, and there seems to be a sort of party going on, with tons of people, including some lovely ladies, but I can't actually see any of the sales staff anywhere, so I have no idea what is going on. At least I can see, now.

Decide to go downstairs to use the restroom, just to find the doors to both restrooms have been kind of wallpapered over, so they are unavailable. I seem to remember some kind of employee restroom a little further back in the corridor by the parts department, so go to check there, but get distracted and return to the main showroom floor.

Where I find myself watching a fight between Spider-Man and the Green Goblin, and they are really going at it! At one point, the Savage Dragon jumps into things, as well! This can't be real, can it? I know super heroes don't really exist ... are they filming a movie or something? That may be it, because every time they turn to look our way, we duck out of sight, and get really quiet! "No," the costumed villain crouched next to me tells me, "We aren't staying out of a movie ... I just don't want to be beaten up."

Spider-Man scores a good punch on one of the bad guys, and he flies across the room to the lower level of the lobby (which was only a single story in real life ... but in dreams ...), and I decide it's all just too weird tonight, and I'm getting proof, so I whip out my trusty digital camera and start taking pictures. Soon after I start downloading them into my laptop when a Chinese guy starts to berate me for using the staff's computers. He looks like a cross between Charlie Chan and Mr. Fuji. I explain it is my computer and he's like "Uh ... ah ... well all right, then."

I start to descend the stairway from the reception desk down to the reception desk (hey, dream ...) and the crowds are getting ever thicker. The dress is also getting a lot more formal, and is starting to look like wedding party dresses or prom dresses ... something really nice. A nice looking, older blonde (40s), very professional looking, is a few steps behind me on the staircase, and she drops a present she is carrying, and it bounces down to me, so I pick it up and decide to carry it down for her. But when I get to the bottom of the staircase I find it blocked by a wall of presents, perhaps four feet deep and six feet across, completely blocking it. I drop the present on the stack and start to climb back up, explaining to the lady as I pass her, and fighting through the ever-worsening crowds, at times even climbing over small children to do so.

When I get back up near Janna's office (and it -is- now Janna's office, not a warehouse with super heroes fighting) I find myself staring at a little oriental girl, perhaps 8-10 years old who is obviously in the middle of a potty-mergency (thank you, Animaniacs) as she dances around. Suddenly an older Chinese woman who reminds me of a non-animated version of Cookie Kwan from the Simpsons walks up and tells me it is my responsibility to guide the girl (and 9 or 10 others) to the restroom. I try to refuse, but give in gracefully after a few seconds, and start to lead them to the short stairway down to the restrooms and parts.

Men's room no longer blocked, but it is being cleaned. The woman's room is still wallpapered over, so we continue on to the parts department, and this time I manage to find both men's and women's restrooms there. The kids use the restrooms. They also use the parts door leading outside, climb on the flower beds, and fall off. Thankfully the party is interesting enough that when they fall off they decide they aren't hurt.

I herd them back inside, and back up to the main showroom, and the crowds are worse than ever, so I try to get away slightly by stepping out onto the 'porch' by the main stairs up to the showroom, and just kind of look around, but even here it is crowded. As I stand there, Keith Thompson comes up behind me and demands to know why I have been avoiding him. I try to tell him I haven't been avoiding him as he searches through my (suitcase? gym bag? backpack?) and takes back the Kuya Kano CD he'd loaned me. He glances at it and sees there are a bunch of scratches on it, and demands to know what I have been doing with it, before he realizes the scratches just might be the music tracks.

I'm trying to explain I'm not avoiding him, things have just been hectic, when a couple of young Chinese guys say something that is probably slightly insulting, and Keith turns around and responds to them. The look of shock on their faces is great, and I just burst out laughing. It is Hiro and Ando from Heroes (yes, I know, when awake, Japanese, Chinese, different ... asleep, not so much). "I love that! I love the faces people make when they realize ..." Ando interrupts me "You know language!" I just keep laughing.

I start to turn back to Keith, only to discover he has stalked off, still angry, thinking I am avoiding him. I am about to go after him when I am distracted by a potential budding incident. Down at the base of the stairs there are three guys sitting there chanting. It seems to be a cross between Arabic and the chanting that 'Padulla' (Bubba Smith) did in Police Academy 4. Surrounding them are several white bread white guys praying in English. This is getting weirder by the second. They all seem to be working together at something, and again I pull out my camera to try and get some odd pictures, but another person on the stairs asks if I have permission to take photos, saying he doubts they want their fight captured on film. That comment is all it takes for it to start to turn into a fight, rather than working together.

I am starting to get worried, when everything changes. Across the street (where there is supposed to be a freeway) is a stadium, and there is a serial killer in the stadium who's weapon of choice is an air cannon (t-shirt gun) he loads with some sort of orange goop that kills anyone it hits. He shoots at 10 or 12 people in the stadium, and in the process turns an entire section of seats orange, before he turns his attention to us and starts firing our way.

Almost seems like he is trying to miss, like he is giving us a chance to scatter and run, but there are several people who are commenting they aren't going to run or back down, and they look like people from my choir. I'm kind of in between. I'm not going to run away, but if a shot comes my way, I am sure going to dodge.

BLANG! A shot hits the window next to me and coats it orange, then I feel a tiny sting and hear a loud clattering, and I turn to look at the staircase I'm standing on, and there are thousands of jelly beans or gum balls or something of the sort rolling down the stairs. I look around carefully, and find a dumpster where the flowerbed should be, filled with four or five people wearing bird mascot costumes. For some reason they are here to throw candy whenever the serial killer shoots his goop.

As far as I am concerned, anybody who wears a giant bird mascot costume in public has already consented to have their photo taken, so I am pulling out my camera to try to get some pictures, but suddenly it won't work. The camera won't focus. I keep bumping the wrong buttons, I can barely even hold the camera, and suddenly it is falling to pieces!

02-05-2013 -- [First time in several days a detailed dream worth recalling.] I am in BM's place, probably the trailer, and we are cleaning something, probably the guest bathroom. I need to go to the bathroom, so I sneak into BM's bedroom to use her bathroom, hoping she'll never know, and won't mind if she finds out. I am taking a pee, but my aim isn't perfect, and a few drops splash on the floor. I cover it up with a bit of paper.

Unfortunately it seems BM needs to use the bathroom, too, so is at the door asking what I am doing there and telling me to hurry up. So I get out of the way, and we are standing in her bedroom talking. I glance out the window, and we are suddenly on something like the 7th floor of a hotel, and there are planes falling out of the sky, which is terrifying. But worse, as we watch, one is very close and heading directly at the window.

We run, bolting out of the room and into the hallway, all the while I am making like Marvin the Martian, and wondering where is the earth-shattering kaboom. Somehow by this point we are running down a hall on the third floor, when I hear the crash, and see the plane plowing through a wall maybe a hundred yards away, and crashing through the hotel. It swung around and came through at a different angle and a lower altitude, and it is moving rather slowly, so I fear it is packed with enemy soldiers who will try to seize the hotel.

I don't know what is going to happen, or how bad things are going to be later, so I am considering running back to the hotel room to get my prescriptions, but I decide it would be too dangerous, and to just get out until I can find out whether they just crash the planes, or storm the hotel from the wreckage. BM has already disappeared, and I look at the two story escalator going down to the lobby. Somehow I enter the wrong one, and am running down the steps as others are being elevated. Silly me.

When I reach the lobby and burst outside, there is no sign of BM, and instead I am meeting Dale. We're discussing what is going on, while he sits in his rental car, on the wrong side of the car. He says it is because he hasn't eaten yet, and when he is hungry, he makes mistakes. I am thinking there is also the possibility that he is confused because we are in Denmark. Anyway, we get in his car, and we are driving to somewhere to eat, while listening to radio reports about traitors helping the invaders from the wreckage of the plane and being killed for it. Yup ... it's an invasion.

He says he always goes to Applebee's to watch the big game, and I'm thinking 'wasn't the big game yesterday?' [My mind was only one day behind.] Anyway, we are suddenly in the restaurant at the counter and paying for our meal, and they are giving him his change all in coins, while helping us pack up our leftover food, and the rest of our stuff. They have a small bag of my stuff that I don't know where it came from, and my dream journal, which somehow has a large corner banged up and worn, like it's been used for years.

Somehow they are giving Dale a haircut, and he is wearing an odd, pointed balloon hat while they do, which is kind of strange. Oddly, instead of him tipping them, they tip him, and it is a rather large tip. He comments on how they tipped him enough for him to buy us all a round of drinks, including Carsten, who is now with us. [Dale doesn't drink.]

01-23-2013 -- I'm on some sort of church camping trip with Mike Sullins and the gang. I'm not sure, but I think I was an adult for the whole dream, kind of helping to oversee the trip, and it has been an OK trip, but not fabulous. We're loading up the bus to head back to the church, and I find myself trying to half claim one of the front seats. I am given the front bench on the passenger side, which is fine. Some little kid who may be the pastor's son is given the spot just under the bar that I used to love as a kid, but it doesn't bother me as I couldn't fit there as an adult, anyway.

Mike is driving, and the trip home from the usual camp (from dreams, didn't go camping with this church in real life) seems very short, only taking around 45 minutes, when it always seemed the trip used to take 1 1/2 to 2 hours. Soon we're pulling into the church parking lot, and starting to unload the bus, while waiting for parents to come and pick their kids up. I'm probably waiting for everybody else to be picked up, before I get a ride home on the bus.

Mike is going on and all about how good the Boy Scouts are, and how great the trip was, and stuff like that. He seems to be dressed in a scout master uniform, and the pastor's son is in a scout uniform. But something is said that seems to tick the kid off, and he suddenly stalks out of the room, down the driveway, and out to curb on Page Avenue.

He starts angrily calling for his dad, the pastor, who is standing about 20 feet away, but doesn't seem to hear him. This amazes me since I am much further away, and inside the building, but I can hear him just fine. After three loud calls, his father hears him, and walks over and picks him up. He talks to him and comforts him a bit, then puts him back in the room where I am waiting around.

The boy is maybe four or five, and he starts playing with a little girl who is maybe six or seven. Soon they're wrestling a bit, and there seem to be hints of Indian Wrestling in their play, but other forms of wrestling, as well. Somehow it overflows, and I am something of an innocent bystander, as I soon find myself lying on the ground, half-restrained, with them undoing my pants for some reason.

Right at that moment, the assistant pastor busts in, and starts ranting and raving, and wants to know what the Sam Hill is going on! I think he feels something wrong, sexually, is going on, as they are undoing my pants, and I try to defend myself by saying maybe I should have put a stop to things sooner, but I wouldn't have let it go any further if they had tried to pull down my pants, but he seems to blame the kids and feels they are being very evil, and I am only being foolish.

"What if they'd used super glue on you?" He demands. "It could have taken us hours to free you. Or even days if we couldn't get the proper solvent!" He keeps ranting on and on about how bad the kids were, and how could I have allowed this, and it is the story oh Jonah and the Whale all over again! I don't see it as the same thing at all. I don't see how that story ties in, and I don't see any of it as all that bad, but he just won't listen at all.

Finally I have had enough, and like the kid before me, I stalk out of the the room, step over a tiny fence (maybe a foot or a foot and a half tall, more decorative than anything else), and to the curb on Page Avenue, just like the pastor's son, before me. The assistant pastor is calling after me, trying to stop me from going, and not getting why I was so upset with him, but I won't listen, and I keep on my way. I walk down Page to Stanton, then walk under the freeway overpass, before making my way down Calendula and into the flower tract.

I don't know what the big deal is ... I don't agree with the guy, but its not like I don't still plan to attend church next week, or anything. But strange things are happening. People start trying to push me or grab me. The area is turning into a cross between a sort of an old age home and an apartment complex, though the entire neighborhood I am walking through is nothing but single family homes. But somehow I find myself in the apartment complexes behind the church, instead of in the neighborhood I was walking through. [The apartment complexes that aren't there in real life, but have been in lots of dreams.]

In past dreams these apartment complexes have had fun things and nightmare-style things happen in them. In this dream, they are bad things. I find myself arguing religion and politics with people, while going through unpleasant chase bits that seem to go on forever (though I think they really are pretty short.) At one point I am being grabbed an restrained by nurses because they don't agree with my principles, but soon they are turning into attractive-but-old-fashioned school teachers who have a sort of Stepford Wives sort of vibe to them.

I burst out of one apartment complex into a sort of hilly area, where I find myself trying to cross the hills while avoiding dangerous flaming horses. Since they are in groups of four, they just might be the four horses of the apocalypse. Strange and spooky. At first I try to hide from them, but then I find four of them right next to me in a wide open space, so all I can do is ignore them and hope they ignore me, or if they don't, hope I'm powerful enough to survive them.

The entire time, both political and spiritual arguments continue to go on in my head. I manage to get out of the hills and into another of the apartment complexes, but I'm still being chased by the old-fashioned brunettes, who are trying to wrestle me to the ground and restrain me. I don't understand why I find myself saying it, since it still seems to me that he was the nut, and the one in the wrong, but I suddenly speak out loud and say "Fine! I'll apologize to the assistant pastor."

A gap appears in the brick-wall corridor I am in, and I stumble into the lot of the construction supply company directly behind the church, free from all the people chasing me. "On Sunday, after church," I mutter to myself. 50 pound bags of cement start dropping on me. "OK, OK, right now." The cement stops dropping on me, and I claim over the brick wall into the church parking lot.

I approach one of the elders of the church and ask where the assistant pastor is, and he says he left about 15 minutes ago. He looks at me and says something like "You don't look like a process server, but I'm still not going to tell you where he lives or give you his phone number." I end up back in the same room, waiting (perhaps for a day or two) until the assistant pastor shows up again. "Really, God?!?" I kind of announce to the sky.

"Hey Dude! Don't disrespect the Lord!" I find a slightly angry hippie kind of shushing me. "Yeah? Let me tell you a story!" And I proceed to relate the entire dream to him, while he looks more and more flabbergasted as I go on. There are several others here, who also look more and more shocked. As I finish my tale, I look at them, all staring at me in amazement, and ask "Don't tell me the same thing happened to all of you?"

"Oh no, man," the hippie says. "Nothing like that happened to me. Not in the specifics. But in the overall, yeah, man. We're all here to apologize to the assistant pastor because we wouldn't listen to him, man! It's weird!"

01-06-2013 -- [What fragments I had earlier in the night didn't seem worth remembering, but I know there was something about mom being around, and dad being dead, stuff at the Church of the Nazarene, and something about Anne and I being friendly with each other. I don't get why she is in my dreams so much, recently. I haven't seen her in years, haven't thought about her except in my dreams, and have no desire to have anything to do with her anymore. But the last few nights she keeps popping into my dreams.]

I find myself at college, sitting for finals on two classes that I have never once attended through the year. This is my last chance to do something which might be able to salvage my grades. I think one class is a civics class, and the other may be a math class.

Anyway, for the Civics final, I have to write a paper on what I would consider the perfect form of government, if money were no issue. I know what my beliefs are on government, and I think this ought to be easy, but every time I am about to write something, I think of more things to consider.

I am planning on writing something in favor of a Rand-ist, Objectivism pro-business government and system, which is what I believe in, both in my dreams, and in real life, but I also keep coming back to the issue of big corporations with CEOs who make billions while they try to pay their workers minimum wage (or less), and while the system allows this, it still isn't right.

[This could lead to a big argument on how no government system could ever work, because people quite simply suck! Communism is a good system in theory but can't work in practice because of human nature. Some are going to take charge and abuse the system while making others do all the work. Capitalism is the best system, but still the exact same thing happens. Our current liberal system with all the welfare and things fails for the same reasons, and in the same way as communism. All systems fail, and for the same reasons. Humans suck! So ends the soap box.]

By this time, three fourths of the testing period is over, and I still haven't written anything, and the teacher is trying to talk me into just giving up, taking an F for the class, and leaving. But I am still convinced I can write something good enough to salvage my grade. Meanwhile, time keeps passing, and I think I am now in the middle of the testing period for the second class, still trying to write the paper for the first class.

In some odd was that makes no sense, I soon find myself picking up and throwing down either a bust, or a broken bit of statue, again and again. I am kind of doing weight lifting with it, and must have been doing so for a while, because I have really built up my strength and stamina, and have some pretty serious muscles.

Then I find myself in what seems to be a bar, but I am with the choir, and they are doing a concert. I haven't been around for rehearsals, and am not a part of it, but as they start singing, I find it is all Gaither songs, and I can't help but sing along. We're now several songs in, and one has just finished, and somebody is on a bar stool next to me. I think it is Laura S., and she leans to me and very nastily tells me to either quit singing, or get out! Even though I've been singing great because I know all the Gaither songs perfectly. [Don't think I have ever exchanged a cross word with her, no idea where this dream bit came from.]

Without a word, I bend to pick up my backpack, and start to leave. She calls after me that Carl has things to do, so can't give me a ride home, and something about being ready on time on Sunday if I want a ride to church? She didn't think so! And I really don't have a clue why she is upset with me, but I must not have a car, currently, from all she is saying.

I walk out of the church, and it turns out to be the church in Buena Park, and I start to walk home. It's only a couple of miles, not all that far. I pass through Servant's Heart, where they are talking about one of the people now constantly visiting or living at Rosemary's (the tall guy with curly black hair) and they are saying something about how they gave him some money and he went out and got sloshed on it ... never again money for him.

By this point, I have walked through the flower neighborhood down to Dale, and have reached La Palma, and am preparing to jaywalk across to Food King, but the traffic is really heavy. Right about when I am going to bolt across, a car pulls up. It has nothing to do with me, but since I know the person, I stop and say hi. It is Tracey M (also from choir) who is either picking up or dropping off somebody.

Soon I make it across the street, and soon make it home to the Hickory house, where I head into the house and move to my first bedroom, where I plan to go to sleep. I am remembering just a tiny bit about whatever the earlier bit here at the Hickory house was about, and how at least dad wasn't alive in the dream, so it is catching up with reality. Meanwhile, there is a cat in my room, and I am trying to pet it, but it seems to be a stray, so it is skittish, probably has fleas, and it isn't one I know.

[When my dad died, I kept having weird dreams that he came back to help me with my mom's death. Once mom died too, then either parent might show up in my dreams, dead, alive, as a ghost, as having faked their own death, or back in time, before they died, so none of the above applied. Oddly, by the end of this dream I was a little kid, so they would have both been alive, yet I was glad my dreams were catching up enough to remember dad was dead.]

11-07-2012 -- I am walking up Crescent, just before Dale, on the side of the street where the church is located. Oddly, as I walk along, I am pulling the metal core from a wire that is still strung up on the poles [like Don DuFour used to do] and it seems to have gotten caught or tangled on a transformer or something. I'm kind of shaking it to get it to come loose while trying not to electrocute myself.

For some reason, Petey the Clown is walking with me, and is accusing me of being selfish or a bad friend or something. I am just about to cross the street and start walking down Hickory, when some guy from the last house on the block comes out and also starts berating me. He is angry because I am removing the core of this wire, and is afraid somebody will lose power because of it or something. Oddly, he looks like the strongman character from La Nouba [Cirque du Soleil show at Disney World, I just saw a video of it for the first time two days ago.]

As I approach my house, he seems to be kind of stripping my bones out of my fingers as punishment. It doesn't hurt as he does it, oddly enough, but a few seconds later it starts to sting really badly. Then when I reach my house, he starts to remove the screen from the windows on my car, and I am really starting to get ticked off. I start cursing him rather severely, and tell him to stop hurting me and my car, and the generic neighborhood kids are very impressed because he is an adult and I am a little kid like them.

I head toward the front door, planning to enter the house, and just suddenly find myself back on Crescent, across Magnolia from Peter Marshall, walking toward the school. Just as I step into the street I am kind of attacked by a large crate with eye holes that I know contains the strong man character, and has my name on it. He gets loaded on a truck or something, however, and is gone for a bit. I am also being attacked by a very La Nouba-looking clown who has no hair and a solid orange face.

The only way I can stop this clown is to wrap my arms around her and pin her arms to her side, and as I grapple with her I realize it is Petey in different make-up, and she thinks I don't know her well enough to recognize her, but I do. She is still pinned in my arms and I carry her into the office at Peter Marshall and then set her down. The other office workers start celebrating her birthday, and I walk off, leaving her thinking I may not be as bad a friend as she thought. [Petey's real life persona does work in a school, but not a grade school, and not in California.]

I start to head home again. Maybe I'll make it there this time. I am walking through a crowd of several girls who seem to be talking about Halloween costumes and/or playing Bloody Mary. Between the school and La Reina (a very short block) there are five gas stations that I can remember mystery shopping at other times, though today I am not doing any shops. By this time the strongman character has gotten free of his crate and is bugging me again as I walk down the street.

As I turn on to Hickory Drive, I'm muttering about killing the strongman character, and I suddenly find myself running into a bunch of older politicians (Reagan, Nixon, perhaps Margaret Thatcher), and they reveal the rasping strongman is actually some sort of spy or agent, and I am expected to ignore all of his harassment because of his diplomatic mission to the Middle East. I'm thinking his mission is no excuse for his being an idiot.

I actually manage to enter the house this time, and I find myself sorting through a lot of mail in my name. Mom is there and is being a bit of a pest, but I am trying to ignore her. I enter my second bedroom through the kitchen door, and I find the room is huge. In real life it was probably about ten feet by fifteen, but here is is more like 20 x 30. I find that mom has gone against my wishes and has rearranged my room, forming a sort of wall of bookcases surrounding my bed in the upper right corner of the room, leaving the other 3/4 of the room mostly empty. [Actually I never had a problem with my mom rearranging my room against my wishes, but it is something my current landlord is kind of threatening to do.]

I am so angry about the rearrangement, I am about to tell mom off and move out, except I am out of work, broke, and worry I won't be able to find anywhere else to go. Then I wake up.

Also a brief fragment somewhere in the night where I am trying to get some sort of computer layout job and am talking about being asked to do photo essays on the Hornet newspaper overnight to fill in pages that others didn't bother doing, back in my college days.

I had an interesting political dream. I have never had one before, but I guess it makes sense given the timing of things.

I was on a train in an amusement park. Each political candidate had his own area in the park to share their views. My candidate's supporters were on this train. I actually don't know if this train was for Ron Paul or Romney--only that it was NOT for Obama. This older distinguished looking black man got up and was telling us how many of our freedoms have been lost through Obama. And how we cannnot allow Obama to have another term. It was a really great, well thought out speech, which later suprised me since I have a hard time putting my political thoughts and feelings into words.

Meanwhile, in High School (6:59)

I'm sitting at a table in a room filled with tables, working on an assignment, when I see someone out of the corner of my eye. It's my mom, sitting at another table, trying to catch my attention by waving something. Exasperated, I acknowledge her, but she wants to start a full blown conversation. I pack up my things and say, apologetically, that "I just can't right now." Predictably, Mom gets furious. I walk over to her table (Dad's there too) and try to explain that I'm old enough now that she can't expect me to share every detail of my life with her. My voice sounds like maybe I'm about to start crying. Nothing doing, though. Looks like I'll have to pack my own lunch and find my own way to school, today.

I go back downstairs and check the time. It's later than I thought! Forget packing a lunch, I'll barely have time to shower and get dressed. I also think I should do my laundry, but when I look into the basket, I realize that I have more clean clothes than I thought. No need to bother, then. But later, when I actually go to choose an outfit, I have trouble finding clean shorts. I'll have to do my laundry tomorrow, which will be harder since it's a weekday and I'll be busy.

Dad drives me to school. I'm sitting all the way in the back of the car, and I'm surprised to see some orange traffic cones passing by my window. Some road work near the left turn just before the high school's parking lot. Looks like Dad's doing what he's supposed to be doing.

I take a seat in the classroom. I've decided that while I'm back home, I may as well sit in on some Spanish classes at my old high school to get in some extra practice. The teacher, a dark-haired man, begins the class by introducing himself and explaining about the course textbooks. Apparently he wrote one of them--part of a series of textbooks on a variety of subjects, all published in the same format but written by various guest authors. At one point, the teacher switches to English for a bit. His accent is kind of cute. Then we go around the class and introduce ourselves. I don't know anyone there, obviously. When it comes to be my turn, I explain that I'm actually a college student. There's something of a commotion from another student in the class, and I wonder if maybe he's doing the same thing as I am and I should have recognized him? That would be embarrassing.

At one point, the teacher's been talking about something, and he asks the class which of us consider ourselves to be "a member of that crowd?" I'm one of the few who raises a hand. A few minutes later, I realize that he might have been asking which of us have had sex, but with so much circumlocution that I didn't realize it at the time. Oops. Well, if so, I'm sorry for misrepresenting myself, but there's not much I can do about it now. Besides, I'm in college, they'll have expected it of me, anyway.

The teacher starts a presentation, and everyone puts away their drinks. Except one is still on the table, and one of the students accidentally knocks it over, spilling soda pop everywhere. The teacher interrupts his lecture to go find cleaning supplies, and I try to help out by mopping up some with a napkin. I hope that my helpfulness is a mark of being more mature than the majority of students in the classroom. But the teacher holds out his hand to throw away the napkin for me, and I let him take it, even though it sort of undermines what I was doing. Anyway, the napkin wasn't very absorbent, so now there's pop on my hands. I need to find a sink. I find one in the hall only a few feet away from the classroom.

A lot of the students are handing out out here until the presentation starts again. I look around and see an office whose name plaque carries a very strange title. I wonder if high schools can hire people to do things as strange as that because they're government-funded. Someone walks past me and into the office, and I wonder. I also talk to one of the students outside. They tell me they wanted to go to the big concert today, because it featured a big presentation about Mormonism. I had heard about the concert, but I didn't know it was about Mormonism, and now I'm kind of sad I missed it, too. [IRL: The concert is this afternoon, and it has nothing to do with Mormonism.]

When we go back into the classroom, there's a stage at one end, complete with curtains and a podium. A man at the podium tells us that as a surprise, Mitt Romney has come with his campaign team to give a presentation. After this introduction, a few people walk out on stage. I'm not sure which one is Romney [although IRL obvs I know what he looks like], and the introduction kind of trailed off, so it's not surprising that the applause is slow to start. It's also very quiet, and peters out quickly. One of the campaign people says "Wow," loudly and sarcastically. Well, I'm not sure what Romney expected. We're mostly Democrats here at my university.

They launch into the presentation, which is an animated, rhetorical speech delivered while the campaigners circle and crisscross the room, making sure to invite each audience member personally to agree with what they're saying. It makes me feel a bit uncomfortable. Somewhere, I've found a pillow, and I clutch it to my stomach like it's some kind of security blanket. I stare at the floor, only half listening. I feel like I've read this argument before, somewhere, anyway. Something about how the Democrats are trying to convince you not to vote Republican because of what the Republicans /won't/ do, but when election day comes, you need to vote based on what /will/ happen. And so on. One of the campaigners notices my aloofness, so he gets up in my face and tries to engage me by giving me a manly punch on the shoulder. I look at him expressionlessly and say in a carefully controlled voice, "Please don't do that again." The man puts on a mock-surprised face and looks around at people nearby as if to invite them to start bullying me, but in the end he just leaves.

From behind, a woman crooks an elbow around my neck and good-naturedly shakes me a bit. Addressing herself to someone I can't see, she asks, "Is this called 'egging?'" (as in, "egging someone on"). Ah, so she's playfully imitating the campaigner. The person says yes, it is, so she laughs and releases her hold on my neck. Pressing herself against my side, she murmurs, "There's someone touching you right now, and you don't seem to mind." Bemused, I try to think of a socially proper way to respond that it's okay because she's a woman. But before I can, she lets go of me, and I can finally turn to get a good look at her. To my delight, I definitely recognize her from somewhere. While I'm snapping my fingers and trying to place where that was, she just introduces herself again as [XXXX]. Surprised, I tell her I remember her as a campaign assistant for [XXXX]. She laughs and says no, then dances off to the other side of the room with another girl. I'm reminded of the friendship between Meekakitty and Nanalew. Suddenly, the dream ends, and I wake up. For a moment, I think that it's only been about two and a half hours since I fell asleep. But that must have been a FA, because it was more like six and a half.

Supermarket (8:15) (LUCID)

I'm in a supermarket, and at some level I'm aware that this is a dream. As I walk through the crowded checkout lanes, I look closely at all of the faces that I pass. Each one is unique and distinctive and interesting, and I wonder whether they all come from people I passed on the street in waking life. I read somewhere on a forum that that's where they come from. The dream seems pretty stable, but I feel compelled to keep moving, or else it will fall apart. I walk up to a cashier and ask her for the credit card that a customer just gave to her. "Sure, one moment," she says, and then she hands me something, but it's not a credit card. I leave the checkout lanes and continue through the store. It crosses my mind that this counts as a lucid dream. Cool; I haven't had one of those in a while.

I decide to call Mom on my cell phone. I worry that maybe I'm actually sleep-calling her in waking life, too, so I try to think of conversation topics that wouldn't sound too bizarre. Meanwhile, I'm still walking quickly down one side of the store, looking around at everything. The store's wide entrance is coming up on my left. I can't think of anything else to talk about, and Mom seems more confused than anything, so I just say goodbye to her and hang up. I leave the store.

Somebody's angry at me for turning out into the road in front of him, but I'm sure I wouldn't have done it close enough that you would actually call it "cutting him off." I decide to play out the scenario to see what actually happened. I get in the car and start driving toward the hilltop road that passes near the supermarket's parking lot. Indeed, there's almost a solid line of cars coming that direction, with one little space in the middle that perhaps I could grab if I timed it right. But there's something strange about the road configuration that makes me think I wouldn't be able to accelerate quickly enough to avoid pissing someone off. Okay, better to avoid that.

I stop the car and get out. There's a mid-sized lake to the right of the road with a big yacht anchored near the shore. A bunch of sailors are walking around over there, presumably on shore leave. I start walking along the narrow path between the lake and the side of the supermarket, going over to see what's going on. But then one of the sailors starts walking along the path toward me, shouting something about me not being allowed to come this way. An irritating fellow, but only doing his job, I suppose.

I keep walking, but suddenly I need to poop. I remember how in the past this has always made me panic and wake up, only to find that I didn't have to use the bathroom at all. Well, I know better, now, so I'll just go to the bathroom in the dream. I squat in the middle of a grassy lawn and start doing my business. The sailor is still walking towards me and shouting, so I interrupt him to warn him that even though I've avoided behaving "beaverishly," if he keeps it up, I may have to. (Apparently, in this situation, "behaving beaverishly" means that I'll strip totally naked just to annoy him even more.) Going to the bathroom is taking a long time. Some of the sailors are running close nearby. I hope for their sake that they don't accidentally step in any of the poop. The sailor still won't leave me alone, so I carry out my threat by pulling my T-shirt over my head. This makes my vision go completely black. Oh, darn.

I wake up to a confusion of covers. After a moment, I figure out that somehow I've come into a squatting position. Uh oh. Looking down, I see that my worst fears have come true--there's quite a bit of poop on my covers. Despairingly, I try to wrap up some of it using the sheets, but it's not enough. This will be hard to deal with. Then it occurs to me that there's something distinctly nightmarish about this situation, and I tell myself exasperatedly, "Come on, wake up for real." And I do. [No, I never did have to go to the bathroom. Why my dreams always do this to me, I don't know.]

Pop Quiz (9:42) (LUCID)

A smart math major I know is pacing the front of a classroom. He's quizzing me about details from my previous dreams tonight. I know I definitely missed a few when I wrote them in my dream journal, so this will be a perfect opportunity to recover them--my unconscious itself is telling me what they were! He mentions something about a homework assignment, and a few different people named Erik. [Ironically, I can't remember the details of these details.] It occurs to me to wonder if he's even telling the truth. I have no recollection of the events of which he speaks, so he could easily be inventing them, and I'd never know. Still, I wake up and write them in my dream journal. Only, it was a FA, and when I actually wake up, I can't really remember them any more.

Political dream 10/12

There was this huge building, it had about 3-4 floors but the shape resembled the worlds largest round barn in Marshfield, Wisconsin. It had many glass windows with futuristic feel to it. My mom and dad were downstairs, listening to Mitt Romney speak. In this timeline Mitt Romney had become President. I was on the second floor listening to Mitt Romney's brother, Scott. He was doing a press briefing for Mitt. I was impressed that he could answer every question given to him so well. Apparently he knew his brother better than Mitt knew himself. Throughout the press briefing Scott's phone kept ringing. I don't remember him answering it. He just held this large dinosaur of a cell phone in his hand and made witty comments about it any time it rang. He was interesting to listen to, but eventually I got bored and went downstairs to see if mom and dad were done yet.

Short Lucidity 10/13

My aunt and uncle visited our house. They were looking at how different it was since they were last there. I was lounging on the double recliner in our living room which I normally use while browsing my laptop. My relatives were in awe of how beautiful our house was, which was odd. Our house isn't all that special in waking life. I never actually saw much of the house in the dream but it did indeed seem fancier than normal. I got up and found myself in a covered porch. It had a really nice glass roof and the walls were made of logs. I then went outside with my family, continuing the tour. While listening to their conversation I suddenly realized I was dreaming. I have no clue how I knew, but once I noticed I flew straight into the air. Both fists facing the sky I decided "Why not fly to outer space?" I looked down and the ground was so far away. I felt amazed by how easy it always is to fly, then out of nowhere I slam to the ground. I fall so quickly I am thinking "I am dreaming, but I will hit the ground so hard I may die. What is going to happen?" I blacked out for a second, and got back up. I felt sick out of nowhere, but decided to fly back into the air. I got a short distance up and the dream ended.
When I stated I felt sick, it is funny because when I woke up I felt really sick. I had a runny nose, headache, soar throat. I guess my symptoms started showing in my lucid. It is better now two days later, I have just a runny nose now, but still pretty interesting to note.

Superhero dream 10/15

I remembered more about this dream once I woke up but I have not been thinking about the dream at all today so that may affect my recall.
I had spider-man's powers, a stranger had super strength, and my brother had some other superhero's powers. My main goal personally, as well as others was to get, or rather make, swords. I had mine perfectly planned out, what materials it would be made of, the colors, the size, the shape. I don't believe I ever got the full sword sadly, but I recall messing with my powers. I would swing webs to a tall building, and stick on the side of it. I could hear the stranger and my brother talking from inside the building. I don't remember what they were saying, but their conversation led me to believe they were villains. I then tried to see how many webs I could shoot at once. I sent two, then a third, and the first disappeared. I then heard some cops arriving, and swung away to avoid confrontation.

Not sure if it was the same dream or not, but later me and my brother were at home and it was night time. I heard a sound outside which turned out to be our mother making a surprise visit. We had something out in the open in the house that made us having powers dead obvious. Whatever it was must have been something only a super would have. We quickly hid the item and sat in our respective spots on the dual recliner as if nothing happened just as our she walked in. She was none the wiser of who or what we were.

09-21-2012 -- VERY strange dream. I'm having some political discussions with some liberal friends right before bed, who I strongly disagree with, then I go to sleep. I suddenly find myself waking to a very Mindwarp^* situation. There is a loud, commanding voice giving me orders in my dark, empty room (in the Hickory house). I look around the room carefully, and eventually find some sort of squak box / monitoring device has been installed on the blinds in my room, while I slept.

This voice is promoting a very socialist agenda, and threatening me with what will be done to me if I don't follow it's orders. It gives lots of orders, but most I can't remember. The one I can remember is that I was to hold myself back because my sister is not as talented as I am, and I am not allowed to do better than her. [Has nothing to do with my real life sister.]

As this this is going on, there is a really weird game show on the TV in my room. It is a game that involves people trying to solve charades by other people that they can neither see nor hear, which makes it really tough. At the moment, Wink Martindale is the contestant, who is trying to solve charades being performed by ... Wink Martindale?!? Somehow they have moved him in time so he is playing against himself!

I approach the box, rip it off the blinds, and start to break it apart, and it threatens me ever more fiercely, ordering me not to separate the broken pieces, though I am obviously going to do so. Finally, it produces a line of tiny glowing hieroglyphics that look like human figures. I have to figure out the meaning, but they are too tiny, there is no way to decode them.

Somehow throughout this entire thing I have not been myself, but KB. They have come and taken me away to prison because I didn't obey the voice, and they have thrown me into a very large bathroom with four or five big nude criminals, then turned the lights out. Obviously a scary situation. I rush to the door, still nude, and open it so there is some light to see by.

I find myself in a locker room, and start opening lockers until I find one with my clothes in it, and start dressing as quickly as possible, hoping to get out of here before anything more happens to me. Semi-short, but intense dream.


^*[Five or six years ago I had a very strange real-life situation happen. Kind of scared me for an evening. Had no idea what was going on. Had been renting a room from some people for just a couple of months. This room was lined with shelves near the ceiling that had tons of kid toys on them. One night I went to bed, and was fast asleep when I woke to hear this loud, deep voice seeming to come from nowhere, saying something along the lines of "Prepare for Mind Warp!"

I was suddenly wide awake in my room, quite scared by this mystery voice, not sure if I was awake, asleep, or insane. I'd turned the light on, there was nobody in the room. The TV was off. I had no radio. Nothing!

I sat there hyperventilating for a minute or two, turned the light off, and tried to go back to sleep, when the same voice returned again, saying something about mindwarp over or something. (It's been several years, I no longer remember the closing phrase nearly as well.)

Terribly frightening. Got up the next morning and searched the room carefully, and found a battery-powered game called Mind Warp that spoke when activated. Whatever it was, exactly, it was a toy I'd never heard of, and therefore very frightening to suddenly hear in the middle of the night. That toy was quickly relocated out of my room.

Anyway, that was the Mind Warp story referenced in the dream.]