July 2nd, 2003

bald australia sepia

creepy dream I just woke up from.

Me and a couple of people I hang out with occasionally at IMC and WEFT are working on some MASSIVE construction project at night on the fourth of July. We're part of a project to remodel a music building on campus (kind of like Krannert but actually a fictitious building). While we're working on the construction board members of this building are running around trying to campaign other board members into approving funding for the projects. The project is to change an open courtyard into a 2 level courtyard with a big fountain and a little extra wing expansion on the building itself. Apparently space is REALLY needed in this building.

Anyway, me and these two women I'm working with have got a swimming pool filled with drywall. The skeptical board members are extremely pleased by the fact that we promise to "go all out with safety measures" during construction and even put up signs saying "no water in pool". At one point I'm both a board member being convinced and a person working on the project (as in teh perspective of the dream shifts back and forth, not as in those two characters are the same person). The board member me looks confused for a moment and says "oh there isn't water in the pool?" and then the camera ironically flashes on the pool FULL of broken drywall scrap.

There is a momentary insight that me (the worker me) and the other two workers have some super powers with which we are able to move huge quantities of drywall with our minds.

At the end of the dream the whole construction scene is a much smaller job. Like we're working on a house at night and the board members are gone. While we work I hear a sputtering and popping sound like distant fireworks. I say "oh I guess that's the grand finale from the big display this year". The two women are completely non-plussed about this, not interested in fireworks, but I say I'm going to go take a break and check it out from the porch.

I look out and see that what is actually happening is that a huge cache of fireworks that I had (in a previous dream) stashed in the attic of the house next door had caught on fire. The neighbors weren't home and this stash was going to burn their house down and probably ours with it as flaming death was shooting out in all directions. I was frozen with guilt and denial and fear and indecision. Until I woke up.

Upon waking it took me some time to remember which parts of the dream weren't real. I was super afraid and guilty feeling that I had irresponsibly left a stash of fireworks somewhere and only after some minutes did I realize it was ALL a dream.

In an earlier dream I was creating trouble (in an activist civil disobedience way) by preaching without a license. The local churches were pissed. I was doing it by just yelling at the top of my lungs but I was poised to get a radio station and go further.

God this has been an awesome dream night so far and there's still hours of sleep left.
bald australia sepia

Truck Driving Dream

Truck driving dream. Lots of different big rig related stuff going on in this dream. First we're driving out to Bloomington-Normal in a big rig in order to go to some restaurant or other. As we're driving a number of annoyances happen like the windshield fogging up, other trucks riding in our blind spot, realizing "oh none of us knows how to drive a truck", and finally there's a point where we've been driving a long time and no one was giving directions and we ended up on a bouncy grassy country road...like we're basically not even on a road. Somehow we UTurn and break through a fence and head back to town.

It is at this point that we end up at some kind of trucker competition. The main event is a competition where all these truckers are up on top of their rigs with some hoses in their hands. The goal of the competition is to manipulate something about the engine (by pushing plungers on these hoses and working pedals and such) in such a way as to keep a very unstable kind of idle going. When done right this causes a jazzy shuffle beat kind of rhythmic discharge from the exhaust. The slightest loss of concentration will lead the engine to just die. So there's like 30 truckers on their rigs doing this thing and it's kind of a percussion orchestra of engine sounds and one by one they start dropping out until it seems like there is only one left. My parent's next door neighbor Russ, long time champion at this endurance/skill competition. The trucker's trucker. But then upon closer inspection the judges notice that there's one other person still in the running. My dad! He's never entered this competition before and he felt completely clueless when he started but some circumstances forced competition and now it turns out he was a natural. He ended up winning and becoming the national champion trucker.

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So there's this old guy who is doing something evil. Enforcing some moral codes on the populace or something. He's got this big red/brown mark on his shoulder that he says he got from "a gypsy mine in world war I". We think that what it really was was a tattoo that he had filled in. Him having a tattoo would totally discredit his entire moral program. So we confront him in his kitchen. Ask him to tell his exact story about his tattoo. It turns out he says he hit it with his elbow when it went off and we'll like "Aha! It you hit it with your elbow, why is it your shoulder that is wounded!". That amazing feat of deduction was apparently all the proof we needed. He was defeated and it was time to leave. His daughter who was a friend of our who had been defending him for a while was shocked and angry. Arun (who in real life is the pinnacle of cell phone politeness, never using it in public where it would be annoying) was on his cell phone getting a recipe from a friend who kept jibberjabbering on and on and we were like "come on, we've messed with this guy and he's pissed and now it is time to leave his house". All the while there is a legion of random spiders coming towards us from under the guy's sink. Eventually we leave, stomping on some of the more menacing spiders as we go.

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In one of last night's dreams there's a scene where I make the wild claim that in Star Trek: The Next Generation all of the main characters who ever died, did so with their uniforms (as opposed to civilian clothes) on. (Now not very many main characters even really died in real life on ST:TNG but in this dream it was like Buffy where they were dying all the time). Anyway whoever I'm with corrects me on this and reminds me that characters played by 2 of our close high school friends both died out of uniform very early in the 7th season (no this didn't happen irl). I felt really bad for forgetting the details of my old friends' roles in Star Trek. It was like a reminder of how much I'd forgotten about that whole era in general.