I am trying on dresses in an expensive boutique. They have a sale rack where things have been marked down. I try on what’s there but nothing is very attractive or fits very well.
I keep checking back and finally find a trove of items that I like. They have a whole series of skirts and dresses that are embroidered silk in bright jewel tones.
Zachary sends me a message at the store or tells the store something about me.
I am in love with this hipster guy I meet in a coffee shop. The coffee shop has all sorts of flyers and postcards announcing shows and events up by the register.
I get pregnant but I decide I’m not going to keep the baby and I’m not going to tell him about it. But the next time I see him he knows something is up. He gets me to admit that I’m pregnant and insists that we should have the child.
He flirts with another girl in my presence. I sit there and watch and I’m upset about it but I don’t let on.
I go and hang a large poster across the street from the coffee shop. A man passes by and jeers at me while I am trying to get it straight.
I’m walking through a big suburban department store with long curved aisles. I’m in the linens department but they don’t have very much stock on the shelves, most of the displays are empty or only have one or two things in them.
I meet a woman named Eleanor who has short black hair worn in a bob. We become friends. Later, I am watching TV with my mother and we see a crime program that says that Eleanor is dangerous. I am suspicious of the program and I think she’s been framed for the crime.
She and I are living in the same building. She brings her cat over. There seem to be a number of cats around and possibly a dog or two. Her cat starts having kittens. The cat doesn’t give birth to the kittens so much as extrude them, like putty from a tube. Once the kittens are born they immediately start running around on the floor. I notice that the kittens that were born first have a lot of orange and black color, but the later kittens are white with only a little bit of orange and black. I tell Eleanor about the kittens and we try to corral all the cats.
We go on vacation to a resort with Helen. The resort doesn’t have rooms for us and they are trying to get us to stay in tents. Helen says she has been to this resort before and refuses to accept the tent option as a solution. We ask them if they have even one room available for us.
After we sort out the room situation, we walk along another long curved hallway to visit the ladies room. There is a row of stalls along the back wall, and the room is crowded with women. There is a terrible stench coming from one of the toilets and everyone flees. Outside in the corridor we find a security guard and complain about the condition of the restroom. He doesn’t do anything about it, instead he threatens to have us thrown off the property or arrested for bringing it up.
I am a student and I have a new job on campus. I go into the cafeteria where people have set out some cookies and coffee for snacks. Paying for these is on the honor system, so the cafeteria has set out plastic tubs where you’re supposed to put your money. I put $1.25 into a tub for a biscuit. Then I decide that I want a different cookie that only costs $1.00. I go back to the plastic tub to get my quarter back, but I look around while I’m doing it, worried that someone will see me and think I am stealing.
Above the snacks there is a big signboard. It’s like an old-fashioned chalkboard, with two long legs connecting a large area for notices. I accidentally bump the sign but I catch it before it falls over. I try to steady the sign but I can’t do it. The signboard doesn’t have any horizontal supports on the legs, so I am trying to balance the whole thing on the vertical bars of wood, which aren’t very wide. When I look up at the board, I realize that the sign itself isn’t solid. The board is rippling with movement, so as I am trying to steady the bottom, the top is still in motion, almost like a flag. A gruff older man comes over and shows me that I have to push a small button at the bottom of one of the legs to make the sign steady itself. The button is like a tiny metal pushbutton, not much bigger than a pencil lead. Once that button is pushed the sign becomes rigid and I can balance it on the legs. The man says that steadying that sign is something I’ll need to be able to do on my own if I want to keep working there.
I’m waiting with four friends by the elevator. One of them is getting married to Suzanne Vega. The elevator isn’t working so we discuss some alternate routes. We’re trying to make our way through the space, but there’s a sense that it’s dangerous. One of the boys I’m with falls down a hole, and I think he’s dead.
I’m driving around in a van with a couple of people. We’re talking about negotiating a contract. There is one section that we keep reviewing over and over that doesn’t make sense. It has something to do with candy bars and french fries. The driver pulls into a parking lot and I tell her to try and hide the van where we won’t be seen. I think that if we can wait for other people to leave, then we’ll be able to figure out what the contract says.
I’m in some part of Eastern Germany and I am going to a department store. The store entrance is located at the end of a dangerous-looking and rundown alley. There is a big sign in 1920s style Bauhaus typography that lists the store directory and shows which items are on which floors.
It seems that instead of entering on the main floor and going up, everyone takes the elevator to the top floor and then works their way down. There is a group of young men who are all running down the alley to get to the elevator. I follow them.
I get into a really old, scary elevator with two boys who are about 13 or 14. When the elevator starts I am thrown up against one of the boys. It feels something like centrifugal force. I struggle against it to move away from the boy and go back to where I was standing, but I can’t break free. I’m terribly nervous because I think the boy will perceive my leaning against him as a provocation. Instead, he shows me that I need to stand against a different side of the elevator, perpendicular to where I was standing earlier. I sink against the wall and am now standing between the two boys.
I think we are going to the top floor, which is the 14th floor, but the elevator lets us out on the 13th floor. I start looking around for the way up to the top floor but I can’t find it, all I can find are escalators and staircases that only go down. The department store has an Art Deco feel, lots of shiny black lacquer and chrome.
I pull a shiny new gold coin out of my pocket and look at the back. It has a design of flags and swastikas on it. I think to myself that it must be terrible to be Germany and have made the mistake of putting swastikas on your money, and then even though the symbol was later seen as being evil, to still have to have it on your coins because there was no way to pull the money out of circulation.
I’m going to Libby and Russell’s country house, and I’m bringing three dogs, including Sputnik. Russell is driving and I sit in the front seat, but then I’m really embarrassed since Libby should sit there and I move to the back seat. While I’m moving I lose the dogs and they’re running around in a park. I’m terribly afraid that I have lost Sputty because she’s not wearing a collar.
While I am looking for the dogs I set my laptop down on a hot grill. The bottom gets singed and there is a brown burned spot on it. The computer still works but the screen is all messed up, the colors are weird and it doesn’t refresh properly. I wonder if I can bring it back and say that the battery is bad.
I am relieved to find the dogs and I gather them and my laptop up. I am supposed to go with my family, Helen, and Alison to see a woman give a talk on psychology. I get everyone into a big minivan. We are supposed to stop and pick up Alison but we don’t. When Helen asks me where she is, I say I forgot because I was too caught up with the whole lost dog/burned laptop crisis.
We get to the facility where the speech is taking place. The woman is giving it twice. It’s not a very good talk, she’s not a good presenter and she’s not very good with her computer. I then go and visit with a man and my mother and John. My laptop seems to be working again.
I am trying to enter a password into my iPhone but I can’t remember what it is. It’s a six digit alphanumeric password. I keep trying the same code repeatedly because I’m sure that’s what it is, but it won’t work. Finally I try a different, really obvious password and it works.
I call and make a reservation at a hotel. The hotel is about $350 a night. I call back later and cancel the reservation. I call a second time and make another reservation. I tell them Sherri is going to be staying in the room with me.
When I don’t show up the hotel sends me a bill for $700+ for the two rooms. I try to get out of paying the bills by talking with people at the desk. I am trying to demand that I not be charged, but inside I’m nervous that maybe I really do have to pay them, that I am obligated to pay the bills. One of the desk clerks says that Sherri was in the hotel and that they know she wasn’t going to stay with me, and they accuse me of lying.
We are going to goodbye drinks for RI. I am trying to see everyone.
Vincent and Julie are there but they have other partners.
Vincent is angry with me for making him tardy
Lost cell phones, no chargers, looking for old ones.
There are two older women who are ridiculously overdressed and overly made up. They’re wearing garish colors and hats and too much jewelry. But they think they’re better than me.
I make fun of them with my mother. I talk about how much effort goes into keeping up those appearances. I do this elaborate pantomime to mock them behind their backs.
I’m scheduled to take an essay test. The test is in three parts and I have two hours to complete the whole thing. The third part of the test is a group session where I am supposed to meet with a couple of other students and work together.
The two girls I am supposed to work with are mean to me and I don’t like them. I have a sinking feeling when I find out I’m supposed to work with them.
The instructions for the essay test are given to me on an ornate, old-style vase of flowers. The vase has writing on it ad there are a number of misspelled words. I think the vase might be a gift from my father.
To answer one of the sections on the test I need to go back to my home. One of the girls I’m supposed to be working with says she’ll give me a ride there. When she drops me off she waves and says she’ll be right back, but I know she’s abandoning me and I’m screwed because I can’t get back to school.
As I’m stranded I think about whether I can walk and decide it will take too long. So I take a van back to campus with a bunch of other students. I keep looking at my watch and I realize I don’t have enough time to finish my essays, and I’m really anxious.
There’s a guy I’m afraid to run into sitting next to me in the van, but when I look more closely at him, he turns into a cute guy I’d like to meet.
I’m trapped in a room with Britney Spears.
She’s wild and crying whenever someone tries to calm her.
I’m working at a new web company that has taken over a whole set of apartments in a building. Thomas is working there too and I go over to see what he’s working on. It’s nice to see him. We might be a subsidary of GE.
We’re giving tours of our offices/apartments. My desk from my apartment at home is at the office. After the tours I notice that all my spare change from my change jar has been stolen. I feel irresponsible for having left it in there, I should have known better.
I’m standing at the wardrobe my mother had when I was a child. I’m folding sweaters and putting them in piles categorized by color.
I am moving repeatedly through a space. I have the sensation that at various points I cease to exist and then am reawakened. After this happens several times it occurs to me that what’s happening is that I am a character in a video game, and I’m dying and then reappearing. I don’t have any sensation of pain or that I am being killed, just that as I am moving around the board, I eventually stop existing and then start existing again.
I fear that I will eventually learn that I am already in a body that I like and want. I don’t fear dying, what I fear is being reincarnated from a body that I liked.
I consider myself to be a pretty verbal person. I like words and reading and writing. If I had to explain something I’d probably try to explain it in words as opposed to drawing a picture or making a video or doing an interpretive dance.
I have a voice in my head and it seems mostly to communicate using language. It’s more complicated than that but mostly when I’m consciously thinking to myself I seem to be thinking using English.
It’s profoundly fascinating to me that my subconscious mind gets its messages across through visual imagery. The whole point of dreams seems to be about thoughts being translated into a series of images. Like in a movie. Like the most elemental and private way that my thoughts can expressed is through images rather than words.
When I was in grad school (in writing) I worked with a Dr. Lee Odell on some projects about teaching students in writing classes how to communicate visually — like not just linear text but using typography, layout, and imagery to get their ideas across. He got religion on the subject late in his career and seemed to always be arguing with himself about whether students would be better served learning straight-up essay writing or whether we should teach these newfangled visual techniques. I remember walking in Troy with him one day and he turned to me and said:
In the Bible it says "In the beginning was the Word." It doesn’t say "In the beginning was the Picture."
Exploring dreams further makes me wonder if "in the beginning" my thoughts are actually more visual and pictorial than they are linguistic or verbal.
I actively resisted the notion of writing my dreams down for a long time. People would say to me "write them down! keep a notebook by your bedside!" What I didn’t like was the idea of having to translate everything that happened in the dream into words, and thus lose so much of the detail and the essence of the emotion. It’s like if you went and saw a movie and then had to write down for someone else the plot summary. You might be able to communicate the main points of the characters and what happened, but you would lose the richness of the scenery, the non-verbal communication, the costuming, the lighting, the blocking of the scenes… For a long time it seemed really gut-wrenching to me to write text down that didn’t capture any of that.
But, what the hell. I’m happy to be able to remember more clearly the dreams I have written down, and it’s fun to map the patterns and relationships among them. But it is most definitely a translation exercise in trying to capture the essence of visual thinking in words.
Remembering Leigh R. has a birthday on April 2
I know a lot of people with April birthdays
Making amends and psychological intervention
I’m not into it
I think people fuck themselves up
I’m waiting in a large doctor’s office waiting room. The practice seems to have many different check-in counters on one floor, each for a different specialty. Hyo recommended this clinic to me and I’m afraid I’ll run into her in the waiting room.
The waiting room is also a store that sells antique and vintage housewares. There are many areas or rooms that focus on different types of home items, and these areas are integrated with the reception areas for the doctor’s office. I visit the doctor multiple times and have the experience of walking through the store many times.
On one visit I’m there with Scott. He’s really cheerful about what he’s doing there or what we’re looking for.
On another visit I’m there with my father. We’re browsing through an area that sells antique benches and booths. My father points one out to me that is in the same style as something we had when I was young. It’s brown leather or fabric and has brass rivets and some other decoration on the edges.
There is a guide or a radio program that informs people about changes in the waiting room/store. One of the segments covers the parking lot. It says that even though there is a whole section of handicapped parking, one of the spots in that section is a regular (not handicapped) space so people should look for it.
