I wish I could remember details of the dream I was having when I woke up this morning. I know I was traveling somewhere, and was in the woods near a lake. The travels seemed to last over the course of several days and there were other people in and out of my dream. My daughter and her dog were there, too.
I definitely remembered last night's dream. Here are just some of the details:
I went to an AnyPort meet-up at Bixa's, except she didn't live in Oaxaca. She lived in a large city in Argentina in a huge, old stone house with an ancient wine cellar in the basement. The house was decorated with lots of old, dark heavy Spanish-style wood pieces. The place was crowded with AnyPort men and women who were staying with Bixa for several days. Bixa also had both a chocolate and a yellow Labrador Retriever, and they were very sweet and quite calm. I don't remember many more specifics about Bixa's place except several of us kept discussing how nice it was of her to serve as host, while we thought up gift ideas to thank her for her generosity.
I needed to do some shopping so I went to a large area, kind of a cross between a mall and a covered market, where I ran into Spindrift. She actually recognized me as I walked through the mall and, after we talked for a minute, she invited me for coffee. Spindrift didn't know anything about the meet-up, having been absent from AnyPort for a long time. The coffee place we entered was kind of like a Starbucks and, instead of sitting down at a table, Spindrift went behind the counter because she was an employee there. I stood for a few minutes talking to Spindrift while she worked. Some guy kept offering me the last of his diet coke to drink while another tried to take my sunglasses out of my hand.
Tired of the annoyances at Starbucks, I left Spindrift and was standing in a crowd of people waiting to enter a museum that had closed for lunch. A woman with a baby brushed by me and I grabbed at my purse thinking she had taken my wallet. The wallet was still there, but when I spoke to the woman she put her baby on the ground in the middle of the crowd. As the baby crawled on the floor around the feet of the crowd, a woman who looked like Jennifer Lopez tripped over the baby, who at that point was naked and looked exactly like one of "Bixa's" king cake babies.
So, jump ahead and the Jennifer Lopez woman and I are sitting at a table in the café of the Cité de l'Architecture et du Patrimoine in Paris, which was the museum where I had been waiting in line. Kerouac is at the table with us and we are discussing what had just happened. However, it turned out the baby was an alien and, after crawling under Jennifer's chair for awhile, it turned into a dark force "death eater" type of thing that sucked Jennifer out into the stratosphere, even though I tried to hold onto her and keep her from going. Kerouac and I were unharmed since the alien had no interest in us. Then I woke up.
Last night I dreamed I asked my daughter how she planned to deal with what CNN is calling "possibly the worst NYC storm ever recorded." Hurricane force winds and at least two feet of snow are expected. My daughter explained that, because the subway was shutting down for the duration, she would be taking a Uber car from Queens in to work (at the height of the storm).
The storm part is real, but my daughter has just reassured me she will be leaving work early this afternoon and working from home tomorrow.
The other night I dreamt that I was doing a show and my mother (who has been dead for 20 years, mind) was coming into the city to see it, along with her friend from work, the friend's daughter, and the daughter's boyfriend, Cuba Gooding Jr. (!) My mother functioned in a dreamlike, very diminished capacity. She couldn't walk very well, she lost the drift of conversations, she would get befuddled. Of course, I hadn't learned my lines properly (same old nightmare) and I was even trying to remember what show I was supposed to be performing, as I tried to get my mother to the theatre on time. I didn't even know what time it was, or when the show was suppposed to go up. My mother wanted to stop in at a bakery, and then she started scarfing down pastries at the counter (so unlike my mother) and I had to steer her to a table with her friends, where they could wait until they picked up their tickets. I raced to the theatre, getting lost along the way, and had no idea whether I made it or no.
I think this was partly inspired by Kerouac's tales of his mother, as my mother certainly had no problems in life like in the dream. And partly by my paranoia as I have a big audition coming up.
Last night I was travelling with a rather large group of 'friends.' It may have been a group of colleagues on a trip such as I used to have to organise as head of the comité d'entreprise, because I can't think of any reason that I would have wanted to travel with most of them. We were running late of course and needed to get on a train somewhere in Italy that would take us back to Paris. It was going to be a very long trip. The group just never stayed together but some of us got to the station just in time to see that we were missing the correct train. So we decided to just get on the next train leaving in the right direction and we would work out a solution sooner or later. I was not really worried, which was a great relief compared to so many of my dreams when I am in a heart-pounding panic about not being on time, not having the correct ticket or visa or passport. Don't imagine that this was a typical bustling Italian city. In fact, there didn't seem to be much of a city at all, just a huge brick train station in a vague Mussolini style along the banks of a huge river which the train tracks followed. The train I got on was a very luxurious first class train, rather old fashioned with plush velvet armchairs and curtains with tassels. Knowing that I did not have a first class ticket, much less any ticket at all for this train, I tried moving forward through a few cars, none of which was crowded in any case. Then I got to some sort of central lounge car which created a dimensional shift because even though I knew I was still on the train, it was like a huge luxury hotel lounge in a basically round shape, with sofas and armchairs dispersed around the room and waiting staff bringing free cocktails to the passengers. I decided that this would be a perfectly fine place to stay for the time being, and I thought less and less about the annoyance of possible ticket checkers, even though I never lost track of the idea that I needed to get to Paris and would have to change to another train somewhere. About two of the people in the original group were still with me, but they were relatively independent so we just kept track of each other without staying totally together. One side of the lounge opened onto the river side and had a big open terrace. I went outside to admire the view in the late afternoon sun, where I discovered that we were no longer attached to the train. We were floating alongside an endless partially submerged trestle on a huge lake, and that was good enough for me because I knew that we were still at least parallel to the tracks in the proper direction. I went back inside and one of my 'friends' told me that the nudist group was just arriving. Indeed, about 20 or so mostly young naked people came into the lounge. "Yeah," I told the other person. "Italians do that all the time." [This particular detail comes from my trip to the Maldives about 35 years ago when somebody told me that the naked Italians were on the other side of the island, and yes they certainly were.] Anyway, they just did what everybody else was doing -- they lounged around and availed themselves of the free open bar.
Our train -- or whatever it was -- finally arrived at the next station, and this was in a real Italian city, or rather a Fellini-style stereotype of such. I had time to wander around and get some photographs because the train to Paris wasn't at least for a couple of hours. There were street markets and laundry in the windows and trattorias and Felliniesque 'Roman ruins' visible in just about every direction -- statues in squares, crumbling temples, rows of broken columns. It was all very photogenic and I was glad to have stopped there. But time was quickly running out, and that's when the travel dream turned into the traditional panic. There were about a dozen train tracks running through the centre of the city in a huge deep trench, but the station was on the other side and it was extremely complicated to get there, seemingly involving just two possibilities -- 1) go to the overpass in the very far distance which seemed like a sure way of missing the train or 2) scramble down the embankment to the tracks in spite of the barbed wire, fences and other obstacles. I was just starting to pick my way down into the trench when the dream came to an end.
A few nights ago, I had a nightmare about the Charlie Hebdo murders. In a younger life, I worked for the communications department of a major trade union confederation in Québec, and there were weekly rédaction meetings. I happened to run into an old friend and colleague this past week, at Jean-Talon market. We shared our freelancers' miseries and exchanged business cards. The dream, or nightmare, concerned the minutae of editorial board meetings, the rituals such as making coffee, jokes (often rather off-colour) revising, and planning upcoming stories. I think that like some of the survivors of the actual massacre, I'd walked out to fetch something and returned to find my colleagues dead.
I think the Polytechnique massacre 25 years ago also played a part, as I was writing a graduate history exam two buildings away when it occurred (and of course, I had no idea of anything out of the ordinary - although I worked on computers and the rudiments of the Internet, there wasn't the constant linked-in atmosphere of this period).
I've often had travel dreams like kerouac's. And very often métro lines connect under the ocean.
Had a long dream last night too ... There were a few linking story lines, though one that mainly stuck with me.
One of the minor ones was that there was a climbing wall, and I climbed there and belayed this other person. He then showed me another line I should try, and he would belay me, but then left. While I waited, after a while, my old choir teacher and the choir and an orchestra appeared, and I realized that if they practice there, I wouldn't get to climb there anymore. Also I realized, that while I found his manner funny when I was younger, I found it annoying now. They then went to practice elsewhere, but it was late and the person that was to belay me still didn't appear, and it was time to go to bed.
Also, there was a kind of daycare - or it was more a holiday place for kids, and I was spending my vacation there too. Some of the kids were a bit strange, especially this little girl with blond curls gave me a strange vibe. I tried to connect with her somehow though, and told her of this child I know that keeps traveling back and forth with his parents and lives only half a year at a time at a place. Then I realized most of the kids spoke German and Spanish and were moving between countries all the time, so this was normal for them. Anyway, it was time to go to bed, as I said.
My bed was in this strange fenced off part on the outside of the holiday area. My section was very dirty and messy. I had a small front porch and there was a table there, and lots of dirt, and bags with garbage. I decided to move the garbage bags around a bit, as a garbage car was about to come to clean, and I knew they would not take the bags or clean underneath them, unless I moved them to the right place. There was lots of stuff on the table too, so I sat down to sort through it. I remember there were stickers among the papers and I thought I should keep those and give them to Agnes, as she loves stickers.
Then I heard the garbage car come. I kept sorting, while listening to it. It stopped, and then I heard the garbage guy (a short, thin, bald, unthreatening looking guy with glasses), got into an argument with this old lady walking along the road. Then I heard her scream and then heard that he was choking her. I got quite scared and decided to pretend to have fallen asleep at the table, so if he noticed me he wouldn't know I saw and heard it all.
I lay there with my eyes closed, as the old lady became quiet, I waited for the sound of the garbage car, but instead heard the guy phone the police, claiming he had found a dead old lady. I thought the police would figure out soon that he killed her, and they would ask me to testify, and wasn't sure if I would dare to say I heard them, once the guy was safely apprehended, or rather just pretend I had been asleep the whole time. Waited again for the sound of the garbage car, but instead of driving away, the guy started walking around.
And thus he found me, and stood in front of me for a while, thinking. I kept my eyes closed. And then he took hold of the braid of my hair and lifted it. So I pretended to wake up with a start and be really scared of someone standing in front of me. He withdrew a bit but also threatened me and I thought he was going to kill me. Just then a police car drove by (without alarm) and I waved my hands and called out to the police man.
As the police man had seen the guy threaten me, he apprehended him right away, and after he did so, I told him that the guy had killed the old lady. The police man was young and even shorter and less threatening looking than the murderer. He had the guy knocked out and now, while I went back to the main holiday building, he checked on the unconscious murderer. A bit too careless I thought, and really, the guy wasn't unconscious and a fight between the two broke out. Just when it occured to me to call the police and ask for reinforcements, the murderer killed or knocked out the police man, and fled.
I was really scared then, as the murderer now was free and knew I had seen everything and was willing to testify. Part of me thought that he didn't know I was there only for vacation, and was going back to Berlin as soon as I could, but part of me wasn't convinced that this made me safe ...
Here's my recent dream about Italy: I found myself somewhere in Italy at the last minute, on a trip I didn't want to take, and in a car with at least one person I detested. I was going to have to be nice to this toxic person for a month so as not to spoil the trip for the rest of the group. I had a also brought too many clothes, but no Euros, even though I had plenty at home. I hadn't activated the global contract for my cell phone, nor had I called to let my bank and credit card companies know I'd be in Italy. I knew no Italian and had not purchased even a small translation book. Basically, I was completely unprepared for the trip and it was a total nightmare.
Last night my stepfather had become a priest, which is rather strange since he was raised a Baptist or some such, plus he had a wife and children. We had to move out of the old church (WTF?) but there were three precious items to bring from it to the new church. Two of them were some sort of coloured crystal sculptures at least the size of a laundry basket and therefore quite weighty; I have no memory of what the third item was, but I think it might have been a staff. The new church looked a bit newer and bigger but the living quarters had to be shared with some other family, a detail that did not please me at all. Luckily the dream then veered off into a totally different direction, something to do with me having to return 20 rental cars or some such, but at least it was not theological.
Post by mickthecactus on Feb 18, 2015 10:53:27 GMT
I'm always having work related dreams usually where my computer refuses to respond to what I want it to do.
Last night I dreamed of being in an Indian restaurant and ordering a meal. When it came up it was tiny so I sent it back for the proper meal but it never arrived and I fell asleep in the restaurant and found it almost impossible to open my eyes. Dreaming of sleeping!
i have sometimes dreamt that i am so tired i can't keep my eyes open. often i struggled then in my dream and could just make out something in front of me - only to wake up and indeed find something similarly coloured in front of me (a bright orange mattress leaning against the backseat of the car where i was taking a nap during a trip once, for example) - so i think what happens is that i did in fact open my eyes while sleeping, and my dream formed around what i saw, and around the fact that my eyes wanted to close since i was, after all, asleep.
I dreamed that somebody was trying to get into my apartment, and I was very happy to have an armoured door now that makes me feel completely secure. The next morning I opened the door and a corpse was hanging from the skylight over the hallway. I closed my door again and went to the telephone to call the police, which is where the dream ended.
i recently dreamt that i was traveling in a bus with a group of very mean girls, they were younger than me, just above teenage age, and they were english, and they all had learned malayalam in school and knew it reasonably well, but had never been to kerala just by themselves, like me. which is one of the things i told them about in a very angry speech i gave them about their behaviour. i spoke to a colleague of mine during a break and was relieved to find out she couldn't stand them either. i am not sure what was so horrible about them, other than them rolling their eyes at me and not wanting to speak to me, but somehow they made me very anxious and sad and angry. there was lots of other stuff in the dream, too, but this is what i remember now ...
I fond myself taking some very cheap airline last night, and I think it was going to South America, possibly Chile. The plane was overloaded so not all of us had seats and we had to stay clustered around the door. The problem was that the door opened several times in mid flight, and people would get sucked out to their death. The first time it was a couple of flight attendants, but then it was some passengers. There was a certain amount of distress among the rest of us, but we just held on for our dear lives. (Aren't dreams great in how one can face the most unbelievable situations with alacrity?) After awhile, things calmed down and I fell asleep sitting on the floor clutching my carry on bag, which was of absolutely supreme importance for some reason. I woke up when the plane began its descent to wherever we were going and I thought "that went better than I expected after all."
I went to bed early, but woke up at 2:30 in the morning, dreaming I was sitting at my desk working on job assignments when my baby boss called to say, "They are watching you, so you'd better be careful." I took it "they" were the top bosses; the ones I rarely ever see. Even though I realized how ridiculous my dream was, it still took me a couple of hours to get back to sleep. Now, late in the afternoon, I'm starting to feel the lack of sleep.
(Quite coincidently, I received my annual evaluation paperwork today and it couldn't have been better.)
Yes. They are always watching and have even put in more "quality controls" to increase their ability to watch. Those things have been put in place to increase the productivity of people who need a little help, but I've always been a conscientious rule-follower. I'm typically too hard on myself, when realistically, considering the type of job I do, they get much more than their money's worth.
the other day i dreamt that in fact we had an extra room in our apartment. it was a small corner that was kind of shared with the neighbours apartment and i had never taken it seriously, and i suddenly realized that it wouldn't be a problem to separate it properly, and that it would be big enough for agnes to have her own room. i woke up pretty excited - until i realized that the apartment i dreamt about was not at all like ours, and there is no extra room here.
I have a recurrent dream of being in a lift but instead of just going straight up it can go sideways or even out of the buildings and every time I tell myself it's real and not a dream. But of course it is.