Dream #265 (September 21, 2010)

Back on track.

Last night I was forced to go back to school (in my dream). The authorities at Regent University (from which I graduated) had discovered that I never officially graduated from high school, so, in order for me to prevent my diploma from being void, I had to complete nine more credit hours at Oregon-Davis High School. (I know this sounds like a crappy old Disney movie, but it's all my brain could come up with).

I immediately jumped ahead of time into my English class. I looked at the papers in front of me and realized that they were unfinished worksheets that were due that day. I initially felt sick to my stomach, but I realized that I could probably get away with finishing them in band class, because I never did anything in band class. I sat through the English lecture about gerunds or something (I paid little attention) then went to Calculus. This class, like English, was boring (for I had already taken it and aced it). And, like in English, I had forgotten to do the homework. Something odd about this class was that some of my old high school friends (Alik Hall and Adam Pflugshaupt) were still going to school there. Then Band class came and went. I only remember walking around the percussion instruments, waiting for class to be over as everyone else sat around playing Eukre.

The next thing I knew, the day was over. I actually woke up in my room (except I woke up in the top bunk of a bunk bed) and realized that I was late for school. As I rushed about the house trying to get ready (I noticed that the Christmas decorations had been put up that morning, which seemed a bit early, for it was September in my dream as well), I thought to myself, "Why am I taking all the classes where I get a lot of homework?" I only needed nine credits, so I could get away with taking just band and two art classes and not have to worry about any homework at all.

This seemed like such a genius plan that I went back to sleep, knowing that I didn't have to show up at school until the second half of the day.

Then I awoke.

Dream #264 (September 20, 2010)

Again, I am sorry.

I know that I was working on a stop motion film. I can vividly remember that the lighting was greenish and very dim, and I know that I was using only clay.

Oh, wait, it's coming back to me now. Yes.

As I was working with the clay (it was a Medieval setting with a large castle and a large forest), I became very small, so small that I could experience the world I created.

Oh, yes, I'm glad I remembered this. It actually was meaningful, I think.

I saw that the clay was melting, but I ignored this. I continued to walk through the woods, enjoying the beautiful scenery, the work of my hands. The trees, however similar they all looked, were each interesting to look at. They were not complex at all, but the texture of the fingerprints and the odd lumping of the clay intrigued me.

However, before I could realize what was going on, all the clay had melted around me, forming a solid mass.

Then I awoke.

Dream #263 (September 19, 2010)

I apologize.

This is a sad excuse for a dream update. In fact, it probably doesn't deserve one at all.

I remember that I was in my underpants in an apartment building. The only action I can remember is answering the door after hearing the doorbell ring.

I know that there was more to the dream, but I cannot recall any of it, no matter how hard I try.

Dream #262 (September 18, 2010)

I need to update my posts more consistently, for I am forgetting large bits of dreams that I know were good.

This dream took place at a zoo (I've been wanting to visit one for quite some time now). I walked around the place with a group of friends (Kevin Chupp, the Suters, Stan Marks, Ana, and Shana, all friends from my Freshman year of college at Bethel). We never said a word to each other the entire time.

The only animal encounters I remember where the following:

I chased a couple of peacocks, but after running into a large group of them, I was the one being chased (like in a Scooby-Doo cartoon).

I also threw peanuts at a gorilla.

I woke up at some point. Maybe.

Dream #261 (September 17, 2010)

Here.

I began the dream in a pawn shop. I was with Kyle Heffelfinger, and we were looking in the toy section. I began digging through a large barrel of old Sesame Street toys (some which looked familiar) as Kyle laughed at me. Disappointed with the assortment of Big Birds, I continued on.

After passing through a room of old wooden carved junk, which smelled like a garage sale, I discovered an alternative exit to the shop. Kyle didn't not want to join me as I walked through a glass door that led to a water park in a canyon.

I was amazed at the sights. However, I soon discovered that the canyon was fake and that I was then inside of a large mall (I despise malls). However, my hatred of malls was forgotten when I saw a shiny glass elevator.

I quickly entered in and pressed the highest number there was. Then I noticed that other people were also riding on the elevator, but they were riding on the deck that was built outside the doors. I was puzzled by this until I was doused with a bucket of water intended to catch the inexperienced elevator passengers off guard.

I was soaking wet when I arrived at the top floor. But my mind was taken from my troubles when I saw a large sand dune cliff about thirty feet ahead of me. I immediately, without any thought, ran and jumped off of the edge, falling about twenty stories into quicksand. I was stuck, and the people sitting in their lawn chairs at the top of the cliff were mocking me. I turned and noticed that Shaun Johnston's head was about three feet from my feet. Right before his head went under, his face turned into a Japanese cartoon version of himself and he froze.

Then I awoke.

Dream #260 (September 16, 2010)

A three-part dream.

I began the first dream standing in a line waiting to get into a small, light purple room. Every single person waiting in line was wearing a long, white lab coat (including me), and nobody was talking, or even expressing any sort of emotion at all. This line of white coats was endless, as far as I could determine.

When it was finally my turn to enter the room, I was greeted by a scientist in his late 30s. As I was shaking his hand, I was stung by a large, fury bee behind my right ear, causing only a small amount of pain. The scientist explained to me that I could choose from any number of things that I wanted to use for my experiments. For some reason, I told the man that I wanted bee seeds, which he then handed me with a look of concern on his face.

"Are you sure you want these, sir?"

I told him that I was sure, so he shrugged his shoulders and let me have my way.

I then proceeded to sit down at a big, heavy-weight table, setting my bee seeds on top of it. I then pulled out a vile filled with a transparent solution from under the table. I spread my seeds out and began to water them with the solution.

Moments later, one of the seeds turned into a bee that looked just like the one that had previously stung me. I instantly became filled with fear. Why had I chosen this particular experiment. I then realized that the bee-sting was affecting my thinking. I rushed back over to the scientist and explained my problem.

He immediately became very concerned with my health. Pulling me aside from the line of white coats, he explained to me that I needed quick medical attention. He went behind his counter of experiments and pulled out a large bottle of medicine that was different than any I had ever taken. It resembled chalk dust and was light pink. The scientist then instructed me to open my mouth, which I did, and he threw two handfuls of the stuff into my mouth, telling me to swallow it.

As he was putting the nasty medicine in my mouth, my vision began to fade to white. Furthermore, I was growing light-headed and dizzy. Right when I tried to swallow the medicine, my ability to swallow shut down, causing the pink dust to enter into my air-pipe. I could no longer breath. I grasped the scientists lab coat and squirmed around on the ground, trying desperately to loosen my throat, but to no avail.

I suddenly awoke, gasping for air. That was intense.

I soon fell back asleep and entered into a different dream. I was in a dimly lit, carpeted gymnasium that was rather empty, except for a few small 'presentations' (as I will call them). These presentations were displays of people's life work and achievements. There were only about ten displays in the whole place, and there were no people looking at any of them. I, too had a display, but it didn't even compare with some of the neat things other people had representing themselves, for all I had to show for myself was my homemade drum set. I sat at my drums and played them, for no reason other than my own enjoyment.

As I played I began to look at the other displays around me. One I noticed in particular was one that contained pictures of the Amazon Jungle. I then realized that it was representing Sabrina Hallock (a counselor at Prairie Camp), who was actually there. I waved to her, and she waved back, looking as depressed as I was. However, I did not understand this depression, for she had a very cool display. All I had was a homemade drum set.

Thankfully I awoke from this dream not long after that.

The last dream I experienced last night was much more enjoyable the the previous two (thank goodness). I was at a very old waterside town. All the buildings were made of wood, and the sky was very cloudy in this dream. After strolling down the brick street for a few blocks, I entered a large building, which had a sort of festival taking place inside. There were streamers, colorful paintings, dancers, and all kinds of people in this mall-sized building, and it was fun to be a part of. Soon after I entered the place, I ran into Wilco (the band).

They greeted me as if they had heard of me before, which they must have because they next asked me if I would be an instrumentalist/videographer for the band. I was overjoyed and immediately accepted their request. They told me to meet with them later and enjoy the festival. I began to run about the building, looking for somebody I knew so that I could share the great news with that person.

It was not long until I found Carrie Badertscher (Prairie Camp director). She was leading a group of inner city teenagers around the festival. They all seemed to be having a great time. When I told carrie the news, she immediately took me into a small shop in the big building (it really was like a mall) and bought me a very nice video camera with a beautiful lens. She told me that she had a 50% off discount, but I think she was just being extremely generous.

I was so excited with my new camera that I began taking footage for Wilco right away. I waved goodbye to Carrie and began finding places where I could get some quality shots. I soon found the ultimate place: a ship that was sitting in the water not too far from shore.

I somehow flung myself all the way out to this boat using a catapult system that was in place on the shore. When I landed, I climbed all the way up to the crow's nest and, after attaching my extra long lens, I began getting some shots of the band. What I saw was great. Wilco's drummer and guitarist (Glenn and Nels) were with Carrie and the inner-city teenagers, and they were buying them some nice Nike basketball shoes. The teens looked very grateful and excited, and Carrie had a huge smile on her face.

Just then, an intense storm blew in. I decided to stay where I was so that I would not lose the camera to the sea. The rain was not heavy, but the wind was treacherous. Huge waves started to ram into the side of the ship. Suddenly, a very large wave, over 40 feet in height, came at me. I was scared and thrilled at the same time (I enjoyed the intensity of this dream). As the wave came, I jumped, and managed to only get the very bottoms of my running shoes wet. I was so excited by the event that I began to shout with joy. I also began recording the event with my camera. Then the boat began to rock, so much that I began to tap the water on both sides of the ship (the ship almost hit a 90 degree angle on both sides). I loved the whole thing.

As I was rocking in the ship, I saw Wilco on the shore line, but they did not see me. I then began to shout "Wilco" over and over, trying to get their attention, but I was unsuccessful. I don't know why I didn't shout out their names. I just thought it was funnier that I was calling to all of them at once with one word. As I was looking into the lens, my back finally hit the water, only getting part of my shirt wet. I grinned at the experience, not minding getting wet at all.

Then I awoke.

Dream #259 (September 15, 2010)

This was a little wild.

I began the dream at Koontz Lake Missionary Church in the middle of the night. I was coming home from a late-night funeral, driving in some deep snow, with my brother Matt in the passenger seat. Just about 100 feet from the church, we started getting into an argument about money (we don't typically argue much at all). Apparently Matt was under the impression that I owed him $74, which was absolute ludicrous. If anything, Matt probably owed me money. To be even more obnoxious, he pulled out an old receipt out from under his car seat that was from some pizza place (which I actually paid for, according to my dream memory). He became so angry at each other that I told him to get out of the car and walk home in the snow, which he then proceeded to do.

I must interject and say that I have had a great relationship with my brother for quite some time, and this dream argument is not a representation of what I think about Matt.

I continued to drive a bit further. As I was almost to the extremely curvy part of State Road 23 near my house, I saw Katelyn Presnell walking alone in the snow. I had compassion on her (I, in the dream, actually thought about how much her mother took care of my chap lips in the past, which made me feel obliged to help her). I asked her if she wanted a ride, and she said, "Sure." Now, this part is very strange and is, again, not a reflection of what I think of Katelyn. Of all the places Katelyn could have sat, she chose the dashboard. I did not want to insult her intelligence, so I said nothing about her choice. Because of my passiveness, I had to drive the rest of the way home (about 1/2 mile) with a constant block of vision and constant unwanted steering wheel movement (due to Katelyn brushing against). There were several times where I almost ran off the road. We even almost tipped over a couple times).

As I was almost to my house, I received a call from Oregon-Davis Schools that I was to substitute teach the next day. So, I decided to the school so I wouldn't have to start the car again (which didn't make any sense), which forced Katelyn to come along with me. When I arrived at the school, the sun had already risen and school was about to start. I parked the car and told Katelyn that I would only be gone for about 7 hours, and that she could wait for me in the car (which was very unthoughtful of me).

The school day flew by so fast in my dream that I did not even recognize that it occurred. Before I knew it, I was being asked to be a substitute bus driver (which I am not, in real life, authorized to do). When Katelyn found out that she had waited all that time only for me to take a bus home, she decided to drive my car back to her house, with no intention of ever giving it back to me.

This fazed me very little because I was so nervous about driving a bus-full of kids that I could handle thinking about anything else. When I pulled out of the school parking lot, I knew that driving the bus was a huge mistake. I had, I believe, 7 near head-on collisions, numerous instances of driving a whole wheel off the road, and many other close calls. One particular time I received a call from Michael Presnell (Katelyn's brother), who was asking if I wanted to play basketball with him. I was distracted by the call that I never should have answered while driving, which lead me (or drove me) to almost rear end the red van driving in front of me. I was so flustered that I threw my cell phone out the window.

When I finally dropped all of the kids off, I drove the bus to my house and vowed never to drive any bus ever again. My house in the dream was much different than any house I've ever lived in. It actually resembled a house of a relative in Pennsylvania that I once visited. My father and brother were both there. My father was making spaghetti and my brother was watching the television, which was mounted up in the upper corner of the living room (which had no furniture) in a fashion similar to the old televisions at Oregon-Davis High School. Mike was watching an old, gory Peter Jackson movie, and when he saw that I had arrived, he rewound it (it was, in fact, an old VHS tape), and began to play it again for my benefit.

Soon after that my father walked out with a couple of cans of spaghetti, ready for us to eat as we stood and watched the movie.

Then I awoke.