Sunday, Sept 21, 2008

I was cat-sitting three cats. One of them was named Secret; I don't remember the names of the other two. At one point, I was inside the house with one of the cats while this guy (someone I knew in my dream but can't remember now) was outside the sliding glass door with the other two. He wanted the cat that I had, so we were going to trade. But ultimately, the cat with me didn't want to go outside. So, I had two cats and he had Secret.

Later, I was at work. Peg S. was there, as were many others who I couldn't name now. I was making two large pots of soup. One was chili. I think the other was something with noodles. I was adding final ingredients and stirring. Then I returned to our main work area. That's where I saw Peg. She needed a 'flame' to heat one of the pots of soup. Strangely, the flame that was there looked like it was shooting out a laser beam. We knew that was too dangerous, but we found it very intriguing. The longer is was lit, the more intricate the beam became. It started out as a straight line, kind of jagged with pulsating energy. It was yellow, I think, reaching out until it touched something. Eventually, it was several colors and appeared to be a structure with many lines. Finally we stopped playing with it and got a working (safely) flame.

The next thing I remember, I was traveling with Roger W. (my elementary school art teacher that I see occasionally at religious retreats). By the time we were dismissed and allowed to travel home, it was going to take us until 4am the next day to get there. Ugh! I was NOT looking forward to the long drive.

At one point in the drive, we hit a quaint, well-manicured town. We stopped to rest. While there, we were inside a HUGE building, like a mall. Everyone traveled by way of skate board. I had a difficult time getting my skateboard up on the walk way and a young gentleman helped me.

We were at the point where we were going into this one room in order to eat breakfast. There was a young Amish mother trying to coax her little boy out of the pathway, but he wouldn't budge. I know she was trying to teach him, but I remember thinking that I'd pick him up and move him instead of holding up all these people.

Eventually Roger and I were making sure we had each other's cell phone numbers just in case we got separated on the road. Then another lady came into the room and made sure Roger's number was on my cell phone…but she thought it was HER phone. We tried to convince her otherwise, but she couldn't be convinced. She even referred to it as her Mickey Mouse phone. Lucky for me, she didn't take it with her. She sat it back on the counter and walked away. I quickly picked it up and put it in my pocket, saying, "Does this LOOK like a Mickey Mouse phone?"

Saturday, Sept 20, 2008

I was driving my mom's old '72 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme and Jeff was with me. Jeff wanted to drive, so I pulled over to the side of the road, left the lights on, and got out of the car. But instead of just walking around the car and getting into the passenger seat, I started walking as if he couldn't have anyone else in his car with him.

Hours later, I was in a very large house watching television. It crossed my mind a couple of times that Jeff still wasn't home and I was concerned about it. But even more, I think I was hiding from someone and sometimes thankful that I didn't have to hide Jeff too.

At one point, my Uncle George walked into the room with his hands in his pants pockets. I said hi, as did he. I was surprised to see him there. It was then that I noticed that my Uncle Joe was already there. I felt kind of bad for not noticing before, so I said hi to him as well.

Then the violence started. There were several men firing weapons. I don't think they were firing AT us; we just happened to be there. The first incident was only a few shots and a bunch of guys running around. The second incident was much more involved - more people, more gunfire, and it lasted much longer.

At first, we just tried ducking and hiding from the bullets. Eventually, I found a great hiding place in a walk-in closet. I turned off the light and hid behind a bunch of low-hanging clothes. Again, I was worried about Jeff because he probably wouldn't be able to find me either. At this point, I hoped that he DIDN'T arrive until after the gunfire had stopped.

JUST SO YOU KNOW:
My mom really did have a '72 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme. I recently saw my Uncle Joe at a funeral, but my Uncle George wasn't there. This home didn't look familiar to me at all.

Thursday, Sept 11, 2008

I witnessed an incident (couldn't tell you what it was) along with several other people. In our attempt to report what we knew, we were told to go to a particular building. In doing that, we waited in line with our pieces of evidence. I was carrying a shirt and jacket. For some reason, only one of us could enter the building at a time. The rest of us were waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

As it came our turn to go in, this very kind, young lady told us exactly where to go. But for some reason, I couldn't get through the half-doors at the top of the stairs. I was trying to push my way through them and should have been pulling. I was resigned to simply stepping over them (they were just over knee high) when the kind lady noticed my struggles and helped me out.

I followed her instructions as best I could remember, but got a little lost. I ended up near the room where the perpetrator was being interrogated. Another lady quickly guided me out of his line of site. She sat me down and asked me to do a written statement. As I was doing that (I couldn't tell you what I wrote), this lady began defending the man that I was writing about. Ultimately, she told me that I should just drop the whole thing. I began to wonder if she'd even hand in my written statement. So, I asked for it back. She became very protective of it and said that since I'd already turned it in, it was against policy to allow me the opportunity to change anything about it. So, she wouldn't give it back to me. It was then that I insisted at least on the opportunity to sign it.

She seemed very upset that I wanted to press charges against this man. I told her that I wasn't, that it wasn't me, that I was just providing a statement about what I'd seen, per the request of someone in charge. I then told her that I wasn't the only one...that there was a whole line of people behind me, just waiting for their turn to do this exact same thing. And whereas I only brought in a shirt and jacket,t he person immediately behind me had 'the table'. Apparently, this was like the smoking gun of evidence in this case.

JUST SO YOU KNOW:
I have NO IDEA what this dream represents in my life.

Wednesday, Sept 10, 2008

I was sitting at the kitchen table in my parents' house with my mom and one other person (I don't remember who...again!). There was a knock on the sliding glass door. It didn't scare us, though I would have expected that. It was light inside and dark outside, so I couldn't see through the window, just saw my reflection. So, I put my face against the window with my hands cupped around my eyes, trying to determine who was knocking on the door.

There were two teenage boys there, dressed in dark pants and white shirts with ties...missionaries. So, I let them in. They started describing their faith while we all sat around the kitchen table. Eventually though, there were several tables in a much larger room with many people there. And others got to do their presentations as well.

At one point, it looked as if all was about to be done. So, I got up to start cleaning up. I got a wet wash cloth and started wiping down the tables. I went from one table to the next until I got to this piece of machinery that desperately needed to be dusted. So, I started dusting it. It looked shiny and new by the time I was done.

Getting ready to go, there was a congregation of people near the door, but I can't remember why. It was like a bunch of people were waiting for the doors to open or something.

The next thing I remember, several of us were in MY bathroom...my real bathroom in my real house. And we were drinking shots. The young missionary boys are gone by this point. The only other person I remember now is Ron W. (from work). He sat his denim cap on my washer, drank his shot, and then had to go. I asked him if he wanted his cap. He said that his wife was used to seeing him without it, so he'd get it back later. As we left, I noticed a full shot glass sitting on the shelf and wondered who didn't drink theirs.

The next thing I remember, there was a competition, a King of the Mountain type of game. I can't remember if I was once a competitor, but by this time, there were only three people left...two women and a man. They were playing tug of war, trying to knock their opponents into the pool. One of the women pulled the man into the water in a way that defies physics as far as I'm concerned. I remember even thinking that during my dream. There was the pool, the guy, and then the woman. In that order. But somehow, by pulling on her rope, the guy ended up in the pool.

The next event was the two girls enduring pain, a beating actually. They were standing 6- feet apart. Between them was another woman who was a very fast, martial artist. She was throwing body parts all over the place, hitting and kicking the two female competitors from head to toe. It was unbelievable how long they endured this beating. I don't now who won that round.

Somewhere in my dream - now sure when - I was in church. It was very crowded and I was sitting with three other people. I normally attend mass with my family, but not this time. I know that I knew them, but I can't remember how I knew them now. At least two of them were guys - the other was a girl, I think. It came time for communion. Instead of waiting our turn, we got in line early. I got the impression that we were hiding from someone, trying to get lost in the crowd. I would have thought that us joining the line early would have been confusing or annoying to the other parishioners, but it didn't seem to even be noticed. As we were returning to our pew, the guys darted out the exit and the girl ducked into a pew sitting with someone else. So, my head was racing, trying to decide if I should live, sit with strangers, or simply go back to my seat. I think I went back to my seat, though I can't remember exactly.

JUST SO YOU KNOW:
I rarely invite strangers into my house, even if they're on a mission for the Lord. I have only done 'a shot' maybe once in my entire life.

Monday, Sept 8, 2008

We were finishing up today’s religious education class. One of the boys in the class has brought in snacks that we’d be having for the next class and wanted to leave them with me. Not sure why he brought them in a week early, but it didn’t seem strange in my dream. So, I packed them with our school supplies to make sure they didn’t get lost.

For some reason, our next class was going to be held in a different building…the church rectory, I think.

Although I thought I was the teacher, I was specifically asked if I would be available to teach the next lesson. I thought about it for a moment, referencing my internal day planner, then replied in the affirmative.

Later, I was in a large room with several people. I don’t remember what we were doing there. But my memory of the room was like our old cafeteria in elementary school, built long before any of us were alive. Old, musty, monochrome. While we were arriving and settling in, it dawned on me that I was to be on travel the following week and would NOT be available to teach the religious education class. So, I started asking the people around me if they’d be interested in filling in for me. Tina G., an old classmate of mine, said that she’d have to check with her husband, but that she thought she could. I started to tell her about the basket of supplies and snacks, then told her I’d follow up the next day (after she spoke with her husband).

Then I remember being concerned that I forgot my trip the following week. I started wondering what else I might have forgotten. Or what else I might have planned because I’d forgotten my trip. Why was this trip so “back-burner” in my brain?

JUST SO YOU KNOW:
Just this past weekend, there was a notice in our church bulletin about a meeting for the religion teachers. I have taught 7^th grade religion for the last five years, but intend to take this year off. I’ve mentioned that to one of the Directors of Religious Ed, but not the one that’s in charge of the older grades…mostly because she just inherited the post. Also, the last year that I taught, I did every other class with a friend of mine. So, perhaps that’s why I was asked if I’d be available the following week. Also, I have a trip planned in just over a month. It’s not specifically for the project that I’m working on and I’m not all that thrilled about going. Not to mention, I’ve been totally covered up by other aspects of work. So, perhaps this dream is a reminder that my next trip isn’t really on my radar yet.

Sunday, Sept 7, 2008

I was at work (not my current office) helping the new guy (no one I currently know) with UNIX commands. I wasn't the best with UNIX commands and probably wasn't the best person in the office to help him. Nevertheless, I was. We got through it. He was patient with me not knowing the answers off the top of my head.

When we were done, I went to the break room to get a can of Pepsi. I put a dollar into the machine and got back a TON of change, all silver coins... and two large football collectible coins that one might get out of a cereal box.

At one point I was talking to a girl with curlers in her hair. I don't remember when or where or even what we were discussing. But she had three pink curlers for her bangs and only one more on each side for the hair that hung down by her face.

JUST SO YOU KNOW:
I have NO IDEA what this dream represents in my life.

Saturday, Sept 6, 2008

I went to a swimming competition. At first there were only two women set to race. It was a relatively small pool, not many spectator seats, walls relatively close to the pool edge. We watched the race by standing at the railing around the pool and looking down at the swimmers.

Everyone was talking about how the first race was going to be a blow-out. But more amazing, the woman that was supposed to win didn't effectively kick. Ultimately, her arms did most of the work. Everyone was amazed at how fast she could swim without an effective kick. I remember watching her kick as she swam. Sure enough they were right. AND she won by a large margin. They only swam one length of the pool, so the race went very quickly.

The next event that I remember had more swimmers and the pool was bigger. But it also required other people in the pool. Several women got into the pool to judge or maybe guide the competitors. Two of these women were in the three middle lanes, one in front of the other. And they were meticulous about spacing themselves so that the spectators could still see when each swimmer touched the far wall.

The stroke that the competitors were swimming was very strange. I've never seen anything like it before. The girls were swimming on their backs, but they were bent at the waist, putting their knees near their faces. The moved through the water by contracting their stomach muscles, which moved the lower half of their bodies (the part out of the water) up and down. This movement apparently was enough to force movement through the water. I remember thinking that it was the strangest thing I'd ever seen.

The next thing I remember is being able to do hair...in a very unique fashion. Four, maybe five, young ladies were sitting in chairs along the wall. I think we were still at the pool. There were instructions somewhere that told me what I could change about each woman's hair style.

The first lady was LENGTH. As her hair got longer, it was also fuller, bigger. It grew in much the same way as those little play-dough toys. But unlike the play-dough version, if I got her hair too long for my taste, I could dial it back a little to make it shorter again.

The second lady was COLOR. I remember wanting to make her a reddish blond color. Getting it perfect was a challenge. I kept going back and forth between this much red and that much red. But I finally pulled it off to my satisfaction.

I don't remember the last two to three girls specifically, though one of them was CURL. I just remember that as I gave her more curl, sometimes her hair would get longer too. All of the hair came out twisted together. I had to pull it apart with my hands. Then it would be very curly.

I remember that in order to change the amount or intensity of the feature that each woman's hair offered, I do it NOT by turning a knob or using a remote control, but by adjusting the location of a tiny rubber band near the end of a braid. I think it was attached tot he wall or maybe the seat each was sitting in, NOT part of her hair.

I also remember that one of the girls had quite the attitude. I don't know if she was always like that or if it was just a bad day for her.

Finally, we were in the dorms and one of the girls was telling us about how they were a 'controlled community' to some extent. It was a conscious decision by either them or their parents to put them in a school that monitored their actions as far as what they watched on television or activities allowed in the dorms.

Everyone was specifically taught to respectfully answer the door and the phone. One of the reasons is because it could be the dean of students just as easily as one of their boyfriends.

Also, there were two different hallways: one for those who were messy and disorganized and one for those who were neat and orderly. And they respected each other's space enough to NOT to change the people in the opposite hall way.

I remember telling them that they needed a high-tech sign when the dean or someone like that was calling...like all the lights flashing in a blind person's house. I just thought that since they were so consistent and dedicated to following all of the other rules, they deserved to know when the 'big guy' was calling.

JUST SO YOU KNOW:
None of this dream relates directly to anything going on in my world...as far as I know. But as I was writing the last paragraph, my head was filled with the bible verse about not knowing when the Master will come. Mark 13:32-37

Tuesday, Sept 2, 2008

I was at a dance tryout, kind of like the dance squad that I was on in high school. For some reason, initially, a handful of us didn't thing we were eligible to try out. So we weren't really paying attention. We were watching, but not really learning. But eventually, we were called down to the floor to learn the dance. We were all a little stunned, but more excited than anything else.

Instead of spreading out across the gym floor, we were sitting in folding chairs. One of the instructors teaching the dance said that if we were pointed to, that meant that we were doing better than the person in the chair in front of us. At that point, we were to trade places with that person. The ultimate goal was to 'blaze a trail' to the front row.

While we were learning the routine, I couldn't decide if I should watch the lady on the stage, who was facing us while doing a 'mirror image' of the routine (if she pointed to her right, we were to point to our left) OR if I should just follow the person in front of me. I opted for the latter, but quickly realized that I would never be better than she was if I was only doing what she was doing.

After going through the routine a couple of times, we were free to practice on our own or in groups for awhile before the official try-outs. At this point, we were outdoors. My friend Jackie H. mentioned that she was going to call my cousin Carrie G. for help. I was wondering how Jackie could get Carrie's help in time for the try-outs, but I didn't press it. I just asked if Carrie had experience on a dance team. Jackie said she sure hoped so.

Just before grouping up, it was announced that an entire team was withdrawing from the try-outs. They were mostly guys, dressed in purple outfits with glitter. I got the impression that they thought that this was a training camp and not an actual try-out. They didn't think they were good enough, so they bowed out.

There were a couple of others that I remember being there: Chris W. and Bobbi H. So, I went up to their group to practice with them. I remember thinking that I knew the routine, but I really needed to work on my pops (popping each pose...not like we ever called it that, but I did in my dreams). As I was approaching them, there was one lady in a turquoise green colored leotard who was totally stressing out about this try-out...to the point of hyperventilation. I grabbed her hands, looked her straight in the eye, and said, "Let's stick with what we already know. First of all, you are beautiful. They'll LOVE that. Second, you look like a dancer. That's definitely going to help. Now you just need to practice. You'll be fine."

She completely stopped crying and said a heartfelt thank you as she took a deep breath.

The only other thing I remember is that instead of playing the music for our practice time, we were trying to sing the song. Some people were counting, some people were singing, some people were actually calling out what steps came next. Each little group was doing this on their own, so it was a lot of chaotic noise all over the place.

I don't remember ever trying out. I was still in practice mode when I woke up.