06/05/03
He Must Be A Polar Bear
I THINK this is the order this dream (from my regular sleep) went in, but I can't be sure. Some details I don't recall.
I was in Gordon Turner Park (the city beach) at one point, and I think I may have been being chased. I did not seem to be me. I didn't feel anxious so much as determined to escape. I don't know who or what was chasing me, but it felt like some kind of organized thing; maybe some bad guys. They seemed kind of punkish but sophisticated.
There were these big bleachers in the park, and they might have been metallic purple or plum colored. I think it was sunny out. I went running up the bleachers toward the top and I think I was followed up there. There seemed to be some things sitting on the bleachers--toys or something? All the colors seemed very Eighties like--bright colors. Like things you'd find in Lisa Frank stationery. I believe I eluded my pursuers and they were impressed by me.
I ended up on the beach, but it was much different; I feel maybe there was an embankment above it, cutting it off from the park, or it was set lower down and was bigger or something. It seemed huge. All grayish and misty. I looked back toward where the Crib Lighthouse would be in real life and saw the Mackinac Bridge in the distance. At first, this seemed right; then it didn't; then it did. In reality you can't see the bridge from there, plus I think it would be in the OTHER direction, but in my dream, there it was in the distance. It seemed magnified, closer than it really was. The towers were HUGE, disproportionate. And there were more than two of them. This confused me no end--there are only TWO suspension towers on the Mackinac Bridge. Yet I plainly saw three, or maybe four or even more, depending on how I moved my head (the bridge was obscured by land on the right). I kept trying to reconcile what I saw with what I knew of the bridge, but it didn't work, so I think I just gave up.
As I went along the beach in the other direction--away from where the lighthouse would be--I seemed above the shoreline now, and higher, maybe on the embankment. And now I felt it was winter, even though it was not cold. There was a man who I think went running down into the water and splashed into it, sticking his head out. (It was only shallow water.) There were chunks of ice in the water with him and I thought about how this was a Great Lake (Lake Huron in reality, though it might have been a different one in my dream) and how the ice gets on them in winter. The guy must be nuts, or very, very brave. I think he came out and then went back in; the way his head stuck out of the water, with the chunky ice around him, seemed to remind me of my dream from yesterday with the vehicles frozen into the road. (See "Running Away From...") It just seemed weird to me. I was kind of tempted to go into the water myself and I might have approached it, but the potential coldness drove me back.
I believe they might have been the same dream, but the plot then shifted into "The Frenchman Of The Mountain Fountain."
The Frenchman Of The Mountain Fountain
I believe they might have been the same dream, but the plot of this shifted out of "He Must Be A Polar Bear."
I believe I ended up in some special store/mall or museum or display place with a group of other people, who seemed to be mostly people I knew in school. As I walked along this nicely lit hallway I noticed a huge unique fountain to the left. It was made to resemble a light-colored mountain or a craggy rock, maybe breccia, with lots of outcroppings and rises and water was cascading down it at various spots. It might have been lit up also. It was so lovely! At the very top sat a man dressed very elegantly, though I think he himself was a bit older and very thin, maybe with a mustache and round glasses. I knew he was French. As the others went on ahead I insisted on stopping and climbing up to the top of this fountain to speak with the man, and I found he was very delighted by my company. I felt flattered by his attention and sensed he might have a crush on me, this strange girl who had climbed to the top of his "mountain fountain."
I started talking with him about his interesting location; I can't remember what we said, but we got along very well. I just felt so giddy that he liked me. ^_^ And I LOVED this fountain; I don't think it was real stone, maybe it was fiberglass, but it had been made to look like rock. It made me think of the rock formations on Mackinac Island and I might have told him so. As we spoke, he sat at the very top like a guru and I clung to this roughly cylindrical uprising of rock with my arms and legs. The longer I stayed, though, the greater grew my fear of this entire formation just crumbling to the ground. I think the rock swayed a teeny bit as I clung tighter, because of my own movements, but it really didn't seem in danger of toppling. I thought of what had happened to the Old Man of the Mountain in New Hampshire, however, and for some reason feared that happening here. This anxiety finally drove me to distraction and with an apology I had to descend before anything could happen. I felt bad leaving the Frenchman behind, as the rock DID seem sturdy, and he had been so very kind to me, but I was just too afraid of remaining up there any longer. I was just filled with this irrational fear of the entire thing crashing to the ground and taking me with it. :/
I believe they were the same dream, but the plot of this then shifted into "Captives Of The Haunted Theater."
Captives Of The Haunted Theater
I believe they were the same dream, but the plot of this shifted out of "The Frenchman Of The Mountain Fountain."
I believe I continued on in the direction the others with me, the people I knew from school, had gone. I ended up in a kind of store that sold knick-knacks and such. I remember (on my way out, in a few moments) a glass case full of miniature houses. There was a round, rotating, leveled shelf full of Christmas tree decorations and such; in particular I recall a sort of opalescent poodle wearing a Santa cap or something. Tacky, but kind of cute. It was running, its body stretched out. I can't specifically remember the other things I saw but there were all sorts of little things--maybe little crystal balls? All I know is everything seemed like small items, and some were kind of tacky. I wanted to get something for myself, but I also wanted to buy something for my mom. So I started looking around with her preferences in mind. I didn't know if I had enough money (I had some bills on me) to get her something really nice, but I had to at least look. I really wanted to get her something she would like. The thing is, I either couldn't quite remember what she liked, or couldn't find anything fitting. :/ I probably tried looking for beads, but in the absence of any, I had no clue what sort of miniature she would want. Certainly not little opalescent poodle decorations.
The others in the store--who seemed to be people I knew from high school--were all heading back in the other direction now, getting ready to enter the Haunted Theater. This is, in reality, a place on Mackinac Island; it's a wax museum that you walk through, with scary displays, and sometimes there are even employees who jump out at you and frighten you. Sometimes it's scarier than others. ;) In my dream, it was located at the side of this building, seemingly where we had just come from (the hallway with the Frenchman's fountain--see "The Frenchman Of The Mountain Fountain"), and everybody was preparing to go there. I hurried to follow them. I specifically remember Jeff L., a guy I knew from high school, yet he didn't notice me and I didn't interact with him. No clue why he would have shown up. He wasn't acting goofy or anything (in school he had been a sort of class clown). In fact he seemed rather serious.
I followed a big group of these guys toward the theater, but they got ahead of me and went quickly around a turn. When I got to the turn (it was within sight of the entrance so I was not yet inside), I had no idea which way they had gone--left or right? For some reason I was VERY afraid of going in there on my own--I knew it would be TRULY scary, this time around. I was already in the entrance and felt stupid backing out...so I noticed a little niche in the lefthand hallway (there were two main hallways here, it seemed--the left and the right, and the right one had the other fork that the group of students might have taken), and kind of hid myself in there, waiting for anybody else to show up so I could kind of tag along behind them. I did not care who they were, just as long as I had a companion to walk around with. I did NOT want to be lost in there on my own!
As luck would have it, Ryan M., an Asian student I knew from high school (we weren't friends, and never really talked; I just knew him), was the one who showed up first, walking by himself. I slipped out of the niche to follow him; I'm not sure if we went up the hallway I was already in, or into the opposite hallway with the fork in it, after the others. I don't know how Ryan felt about me tagging after him, but I sensed he didn't really care; maybe he himself didn't like being alone either? In any case, we tolerated each other as a necessary evil as we went on our way. The thing is...we weren't that far through before I lost track of him, and ended up on my own, anyway! o_o;
I think it might have been before this happened, that we started coming across the scary displays. The theater was VERY interactive this year--meaning, instead of just static displays, the employees--or whoever was manning the place--were doing their damned best to scare the crap out of us at every turn. I think one display in the righthand hall (I guess we went that way first?) represented a Vietnam veteran's flashback or nightmare. Don't recall it very well, just knew that it was supposed to be scary to Vietnam vets. There might have been a scary monkey somewhere. I think after the Vietnam vet display I lost track of Ryan and ended up wandering alone, so I started walking all over, into lots of different hallways, in the hopes of coming across the others. I was so anxious! The hallways were all weird and skewed, not straight and level. And they were all black. It wasn't total darkness, but it was all painted black, like the real theater. I finally came out into a big room and I think maybe some of the others joined me as I did so; I'm not sure. I just didn't feel alone.
In reality, long long ago, the Haunted Theater had a place known as the "upside-down room." Basically it was like a table and chairs glued to the ceiling. ^_^ This reminded me of that, only it was freakier. I can't describe it adequately. The room was very high--had a very high ceiling--and moderately wide, and square. Like a huge cube. The lighting was poor and dingy, and the surroundings were the same; maybe white-trash-type people lived here. I do think there were a few sitting on a beaten-up couch near the right side of the room; they seemed very far away, because of the size of the place. I sense they were hicks, very poorly bred and poorly mannered but not quite as bad as, say, somebody from Deliverance. Just shabby and ignorant. I got a creeped-out feeling from here, but it would have been ALMOST tolerable if it had not been for the FACES IN THE CEILING.
Yes...there were at least two or three FACES protruding from the ceiling, high above. They seemed magnified, or bigger than actual faces. I don't remember hair or specific features, but they were just...sticking out of the ceiling like the bodies had been embedded in the plaster or whatever...just these faces, at random locations and positions nearer the left side of the room...looking down at us. They did not seem very malevolent or dangerous. But they were just so freaky up there like that! What WERE they and how had they gotten up there? I think this was when I began to sense the real foreboding behind the Theater. It wasn't being run by regular old employees anymore! I stood in the doorway of this room for a while--there might have been windows on the opposite side of it, but they were far away, and whatever landscape was out there was not bright and sunny or cheerful--and listened to the residents talk for a bit--they noticed us, but neither welcomed us nor told us off--I think they might have been discussing our presence. (If I was in fact with some of the others, and not alone.) We finally backed away from the room and left its inhabitants in peace.
At one point, when I was alone (maybe before the above?), I entered a room full of doors. That's like a room in the real theater; behind each door is something different and mildly scary, and only one door leads from the room. It's easy to get lost and end up turning in circles. In the dream, I entered, saw all the doors opposite me, and grew very anxious because I knew there were THINGS waiting behind them all, except one! I think the others came up behind me now just as I was exclaiming about where we were. I don't remember what way we took.
Then in one of the hallways, Indian arrows came shooting out of the right-hand side, maybe from a hidden niche, just missing us! I think not long after we were captured, and taken prisoner. I don't recall the details, just that we were now at the mercy of the people running this place--and I think they were evil ghosts or spirits!!
We ended up in another big room, also very poorly lit; for some reason this poor lighting was what creeped me out the most. It gave everything this dingy, ominous feel. Again there was the abnormally high ceiling and the disproportionately huge size of the room compared to the people and furnishings inside; there was a whole lot of blank wall space above us. We were all in here together being held hostage by the evil spirits, who were led by a sort of vampire. I think he might have had pale blue skin and a tube coming from his mouth or nose; perhaps he was sick. His hair was slicked back from a widow's peak and of course, he spoke like Count Dracula. I think he might have reminded me of Jimmy Fallon playing an aged Count Chocula on Saturday Night Live. Despite his ridiculous appearance, I sensed his power, to hold control over all these other spirits--the ones from the vet's nightmare (maybe the vet himself was one?), the Indians, the people from the faces room, everything. This place was loaded with malevolent (or at least trickster-type) entities, and we were now at their mercy.
I stood kind of halfway toward the back, closer to the left side of the crowded room, silently observing all that was going on. I began to formulate a plan to escape, but I would need the help of the others. I think Vampire Guy (he stood in a doorway at the front left of the room, ahead of me) was distracted by one of the other spirits, talking, so I might have then told the others what I intended to do. They agreed to go along with it. I don't remember specific people by now, except for one...Nick Stokes, George Eads's character from CSI. o_O If he wasn't present here, he did show up later, and worked alongside me. I either took some sleeping pills now, or had earlier, like I do every day in real life, and then approached the vampire with feigned fearlessness.
"Sir," I said (or something like it, trying to be respectful yet insistent), holding my head high. He looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "I took some sleeping pills to get to sleep tonight. At home I always set my alarm to wake me up every hour (I really do this, in real life), but the sleeping pills might make me very drowsy and I might sleep through my alarms. (Either I told him this, or I told him that, since I was being held prisoner, I did not have my alarm clock with me; can't remember which.) Could you wake me up in case I miss my alarms?"
Now, this was significant, because I think this vampire guy was the bringer of dreams or something. And so my request was a very bizarre and forward one. His eyes widened and he roared in seeming rage and total disbelief, "WAKE YOU UP?!" as if I had just asked the most OUTLANDISH thing in the world. I knew he could not BELIEVE I had just done that!
Despite his fearsome reaction, I managed to stand my ground, keeping my face set and determined. That let him know I would not accept no for an answer; and I think he realized that if I did NOT wake up every hour, things would get difficult for his plans to properly be implemented, for whatever reason. I don't know; maybe I had to wake up every hour to properly dream, and that was part of his plan or something. He finally feigned this utterly disgusted look but gave in and said he would wake me up in case I slept through my alarm clock. I thanked him and retreated, knowing that we were on our way to escaping.
Somehow, we ended up in my bedroom next. It seemed bigger than usual. I was here with at least Nick, maybe a few others, and perhaps we were not supposed to be here? I get the feeling we were just doing something when we were believed to be doing something else--maybe working on our escape when we were just supposed to sit in the room. I set Nick to work doing something--he grinned and went off to do it, seeming very confident with my idea--and then for some reason I started digging out some of my stuffed toys from under the bed, while leaving others where they were. This held some importance that I can't recall. I feel maybe the toys had fallen or been hidden here by me before this misfortune had struck, and now I needed to move or retrieve some of them. I had some trouble finding which ones I wanted. There might have been a bunny or two, maybe the aqua-colored one I have now in real life. I reached down on the side of the bed nearest the big stereo to dig around, maybe pulled a few out, and considered taking the rest but left them; I told them they'd be safer there. *shrug* Perhaps they were sentient...I then wondered where my two old favorites, Big Red (a Pound Puppy) and Tigger (not the Winnie The Pooh version, just a toy tiger), were. I really wanted to know. I finally found them just under the bed on the OTHER side--the side I get out of bed from. My room was cleaner, and airier, but I still had to move some stuff to reach them. I considered taking them out, but then petted them and left them. They, too, would be safer where they currently were. All of this made me feel slightly anxious, as if I hated leaving them behind or digging them out.
I don't remember which specific toys I did pull out, nor what I did with them afterwards. I think there was a tornado warning, and maybe this is why I was moving things around under the bed, to protect them. We were all getting ready to make our break, somehow.
This dream might have shifted into or been related to "Did You Hear Thunder?" and/or "Bedridden."
Did You Hear Thunder?
At one point in my dreams I heard a slight rumble. After a while I left my bedroom to go to the bathroom, I think, and heard Dad ask, "Did you hear that thunder?"
"I heard a rumble when I was in my room," I affirmed. "I wasn't sure it was thunder, though."
This dream might have been part of or related to "Captives Of The Haunted Theater" and/or "Bedridden."
Bedridden
This dream might have been part of or related to "Captives Of The Haunted Theater" and/or "Did You Hear Thunder?" I don't know if it came before or during those, or after, but there was a very sick lady lying in bed. She was blond, and I think she was the same one who was on an episode of CSI: Miami this past Monday night. In the real-life program, she ingested a lot of radiation in her orange juice and very quickly died of radiation poisoning as the CSIs solved her case. In my dream, she was lying in this bed in this dim room (similar to my bedroom) while nurses tended to her. I (we?) seemed to be watching this on TV or something. I think maybe instead of radiation poisoning she might have had leukemia instead. (I've been thinking about leukemia lately as one of my characters is supposed to have it.) It was hard for her to breathe, so she had to lie on her stomach. Her head was turned away from me. The room was all in browns, dimmed. A nurse appeared and I think she pulled down the sheet, and I saw the woman's back was coated with a thin slimy white foam. Ick. :( I think this was caused by her illness, and the nurse took a wet cloth and started gently wiping her down, washing off the foam so her back was bare and clean. I felt kind of grossed out seeing this, though I knew it couldn't be helped. Perhaps she had something to do with our escape in "Captives Of The Haunted Theater" or with our current situation, if it was in fact the same dream.
Respect Your Elder Indians
I was at my Grandma B.'s house and...there was this old Indian chief, telling my family and myself to leave. I guess we were on his territory, and had to go because were were trespassing. o_O He seemed mildly angry, but was holding it in and being as polite as he could. We, in turn, were respectful toward him, and started gathering our things to leave. I think there were a few other braves present as well, with stern looks on their faces.
The other family members seemed preoccupied in the kitchen as I began picking my own stuff up off the floor. I had a LOT of stuff to pack up and take with me! It was mostly papers and folders and such. Like old drawings, sketches...I sensed it was all old. One was a pastel drawing I'd made on black paper and I had to fold it in half as it was so big, a little worried that it would smear; I had so many papers of different sizes that it was difficult to put them all in one average-sized folder. I worked as quickly as I could, though it didn't seem quick enough to me; I wanted to leave as soon as possible to avoid angering the Indians. I knew they were not cruel people, but I just didn't want to displease them. I wanted them to think of me kindly, as someone who respected their wishes.
I just kept cramming and cramming and cramming up these papers, and then members of my family came into the room from near the kitchen. I know Dad was there; maybe Ma, maybe Eric, maybe my grandparents and cousins and others. I looked up and said, "Oh hi, do you think you can help me with this?" I hated asking for their help picking up MY stuff, but they obliged without hard feelings. I think I picked up most of my stuff but wondered where to put it to most easily carry it out; maybe there was a box present. While the others continued working on that and on various other things, I got up.
I walked past the furnace/stove, which was near me. As I did so I noticed a little ceramic brown owl figurine perched there, maybe an inch high. I instantly fell in love with it, since I collect owls. I knew it either belonged in this house or to the Indians. There was another figurine I think I spotted before this one, perhaps a wolf, and I liked it a lot too. As I went by it I considered politely asking the chief if I could take at least the owl figurine with me, because I like to think of the owl as my spirit animal. Perhaps if I put it like that, he would not only understand and let me have it, but he would like me more, as the Indians very much understand spirit animals. But I was afraid of offending him by asking to take something that was not mine to take. :( I considered asking him when I was done packing, though I was still anxious. I really did NOT want to make a bad impression on this guy; I greatly respected him.
I went over to a Christmas tree that stood in the corner, where the tree usually stands in real life. It seemed very sparse and daylight easily made its way to the floor through the branches. I bent down to look into the very corner of the room and found little handmade booklets of paper, rough cut and thick, like the little books I used to make when I was young. There were at least three, maybe more, jammed down into the cracks between the walls and floor. (There seemed to be a small space between the two.) Curious, I started pulling them out, to find that at least one was a listing of my characters' names and e-mails or something (I guess I'd given them e-mail addresses!); another, possibly more than one, was meant to hold the plot of my story Manitou Island or something. I knew these were mine, though I don't think I remembered when or why I had stuffed them down here. Still, I began pulling them all out to take with me. Ma approached and for some reason I felt secretive about this; I didn't want her to know exactly what was written on them or why I'd written it. She asked me what they were and I believe I tried to tell her the truth, although not in much detail. I feared that, by my reticence to speak, she'd assume they were adult writing, like erotica, or something! In real life I write erotica but NO ONE in my family knows, and they'd probably freak out if they knew. So in my dream, I got the feeling that if she sensed I was so reluctant to talk about what these really were, then she'd assume they were adult material, and get mad at me! I don't know why I thought that in particular. I did my best to just casually brush them off--"Oh, it's just some stuff I wrote about my characters"--and she seemed to accept this explanation and started cleaning nearby. I believe I was going to shove these tablets and everything else into a box to carry with me. They were just little homemade "booklets," thick wads of paper cut down to size and probably stapled in the middle, to hold them together. I used to make such things in real life when I was little, and would write little comic stories in them.
I think we went back toward the chief and he said something like, "Take all of your things with you, and leave all of our own." This just made me doubly anxious to ask about that owl!
Dad (I think), replied with something like, "We'll take everything of ours that we didn't bring as gifts." What he meant was, some of the things we'd brought with us had been intended as gifts for the Indians; we'd take all our other stuff (and not take anything of theirs), except for the items we MEANT for them to have, as a sort of peace or friendship offering. I think the chief silently agreed...though I was still very tempted about that owl figurine.
Interview With The Cultist
This dream was from my nap.
I saw a commercial on A&E that I think was about some "new" religion, possibly an ad to get recruits. It made me think vaguely of Scientology with the way it advertised itself and I was immediately curious. In real life I cannot stand Scientology; this religion was not as devious as I believe that they are, but I sensed something "off" about it--I smelled a cult. I decided I would go and have a talk with the leader.
Flash ahead, and I somehow ended up just outside the religion's headquarters. There was a large field or track of some sort--grassy, wide, with trees way on the other side. It was sunny out and I believe there was a big fence or gate that I passed through easily. I walked onto the field or track and witnessed lots of well-dressed women going through moves of some sort. They wore uniforms almost like they belonged in a marching band, with different colors; they were all attractive but in a smart rather than incredibly sexy way. Think Sandra Bullock in Demolition Man and you should get the picture. Shoulder-length brown hair parted in the middle and kind of in a bob, nice uniforms, well groomed. I saw at least one woman like that; I sense the others were similar. I don't remember men. They were going through some sort of moves as if they were training for a performance or something--marching around and such in different groups. I think they might have noticed me as I walked across the field/track, but nobody impeded my progress. I was interested in a large set of green steps ahead of me.
These steps were green because they seemed to be coated with turf--grass, or fake grass. They were roundish, instead of square, curving out toward me. The bottom one was the biggest and widest and they got narrower as they went up toward the top--narrower lengthwise, from left to right, not in steepness or anything. At the very top was, I believe, a seat or place for the leader of this religion to sit--this functioned much like a dais. I went up the steps to him. He was a kind of thin/lanky, maybe tall, balding, mustached man, possibly with a long face. The kind of guy who might be a school teacher or guidance counselor or something--not incredibly flashy, but cheerful and confident. He didn't wear a uniform like the others; he was dressed casually, I think, in dark colors. There was a uniformed woman up here with him, serving as a sort of "second." I think she might not have approved of me being there but he was in charge, and welcomed me, so she remained silent.
I stopped a few steps below him so I was looking upward, and it was difficult for me to maintain my balance, as if the steps were slippery or sloping. I held onto one in front of me and kind of leaned into them as I spoke. I greeted him and asked if I could interview him. He was open to it, so I started asking him some questions as politely as I could. I smiled, talked courteously, everything. I didn't sense he was DANGEROUS, but you know how cult leaders are; I did not want to set him off. At the very least, he would stop answering my questions if I was rude, and for some reason I was really interested in hearing from him. I sensed I could learn a lot about cults by talking to this guy; maybe it would earn me some respect from others, as the person who had fearlessly interviewed the leader of this "new" religion.
I can't recall exactly what I asked him by now, but he kindly answered all my questions. I finally remember, about three or four questions into it, asking him what the basic tenets of his religion were. He got this odd, knowing smile and said something like, "Man is meant to rule all" (or possibly, "Man is God"?).
But I couldn't be sure of what he had said, because for some reason I couldn't hear him very well at the moment. Maybe my difficulty keeping my balance had something to do with it. I leaned forward and asked him to repeat himself. He did so, but I had to ask him to do so a few times. I felt like I was pressing it by being so annoying but I could not hear him well! I really craned my neck to hear him and was extra careful to be very polite. "I'm very sorry--could you please repeat that again? I can't hear you."
"Man is meant to rule all(?)," he said again, louder, and I believed I heard him right this time though I was not 100% sure. Nevertheless I took him at his answer this time.
I cocked my head with curiosity and asked him what was probably the most delicate question I had asked so far. "Do you really believe that as part of your faith, or do you just say it?" I specifically remember using the word faith--I did not want to imply he was the leader of a cult, and I wanted to make it clear to him that I meant, do you believe this comment, as part of how faithful you are to your religion? Or do you just SAY this to keep the followers in line--and not really believe it yourself? As you can imagine, that was a very sensitive question to ask a religious leader, and again I was being very tactful and keeping my tone sincere, so as not to displease him.
He sensed the actual meaning of my question even though I didn't say so in so many words, and wasn't as quick to respond as he'd been before. He also gave me an odd look I can't really describe; sort of an "I know what you're getting at" look, only without too much menace. I got the feeling he was going to at least attempt to answer when my foot gave out from under me and I fell down the steps!
Well, THAT was embarrassing. I blushed and smiled and instead of climbing back up, walked around to the left side. This set of steps was vertical in back, just a high flat face leading up to his seat. I think there might have been a different set of steps or a ladder up to his seat, but I believe somebody--maybe the lady--brought me a folding chair, or else I pulled one up myself and decided I would sit on the ground level beside him and ask him questions from there. Yes, if this were real he would have been too high up for us to communicate effectively, but in the dream it was almost as if we would be on the same or a close level. Perhaps I would also just sit and observe how he ran things.
Somewhere in here the cult leader informed me of how he had bought air time on A&E, and that had been the commercial I'd seen which had sparked my interest. I felt this was kind of unethical--how many legitimate religions buy air time to recruit new members?--but I didn't tell him this. I might have been playing the angle that I was interested in joining the cult myself, in order to keep him friendly and open to my questions--I wanted him to think I was asking him these things to be informed as a potential member, not to tell others of how I had snagged an interview with him. But I didn't have such a feeling of deceit toward him. I felt I HAD to be pretty open with him, so he would not grow suspicious. I've never been a good liar. My tactfulness was genuine, at least.
I then later on dreamed that I had awoken and went to Ma to tell her about this dream. I felt very impressed with myself, how I had handled the cult leader on my own like that, despite my embarrassing tumble down the steps.
Mail-Order Murder
This dream, from my nap, is very foggy. It was influenced by a program I'd watched earlier on A&E, which was airing again as I napped. The program was about a man who married a Russian mail-order bride and she ended up missing and dead. He was convicted of her murder even though he proclaimed his innocence. In real life he struck me as a scumball--he'd had a mail-order bride BEFORE her, who had gotten her green card and then divorced him, and he'd still been angry about that. So he'd gone and married ANOTHER one? That just struck me as odd. Plus there was lots of evidence that he had been abusive and possessive toward her--there was video footage of the two, and you could see how she would push him away, as well as the strain in her face even as she smiled. Plus he was very contradictory in his stories--on the one hand he said she was sleeping around and spending too much time away from him, and complained about how they never spent time together and he'd had ideas of divorcing her, but on the other hand he insisted they were very much in love and he was trying very hard to get the relationship to work out. So I have little doubt he killed her. He struck me as very temperamental and petulant. Anyway, in the dream, I could hear this program on the TV as it played and so the program aired in my dream as well, albeit differently.
I was sitting on the couch in the dream and I had these HUGE reddish bruises on my legs. I didn't know where they had come from but their presence didn't bother me. I kept studying them. They were an odd red color, kind of like the lividity you see in bodies that have been lying in one position for a while. Like massive amounts of blood had just pooled in my legs. They were not purple or blue like bruises usually are. And they were HUGE. I can't remember their specific location; it seemed to shift, because at first I was looking at one, then when I tried to look again it had moved. They seemed to be toward the backs of my legs, possibly on my calves, and there might have been a rash too. I was just sitting here at night looking at them while this program aired.
They mentioned finding the Russian woman in her shallow grave. On TV, they had shown the grave covered up, but not her. Not even when they said her hand was protruding from it had I seen that. So I was thinking, "They aren't going to show anything." But when they mentioned her hand, I did see it now, sticking out of the side--I think it was her left hand. (Oh, I forgot--they mentioned in the program how her hands were folded at the small of her back. Yet I THOUGHT I remembered that one hand was sticking out of the grave; so I can't be sure if that detail was right, or just in the dream.) I looked more closely at her hand and noticed that the skin was slightly mottled, like with reddish and/or whitish dots. I wondered how long she'd been there (I think it was a few weeks or months or something, in the show) and how badly she'd decomposed. I sensed she wouldn't look very good.
It now showed people opening up the grave--they might have been Russians, even though she'd been buried in the US--and now I could see her lying on her stomach, just as the program had said she'd been found. She had long blond hair. I was confused because the program said her hair had been hacked off, yet it was still long in the dream. But when they started to lift her body out--she was stiff, like in rigor mortis, even though she'd been dead too long for that--I noticed that although it was still long, it wasn't QUITE as long as it had been before, and the ends had been cropped off so it was straight/squared off at the bottom. They lifted her out almost as if she were cordwood, she was so stiff.
"They won't show her face," I said. Of course they wouldn't, if she'd been down there decomposing that long.
But again I was proven wrong; they turned her about so her face was to the left, and I was surprised to see that she was in very good condition--no signs of rotting, aside from her stiffness. How very odd. Not even any lividity like that which I had on my legs! They picked her up out of the grave to carry her away, and now I was looking at a sketch of her lying in the grave, like a shot from above--her face was turned away and her hands were folded behind her back as the program had described them to be. This sketch was probably made when she was still lying in the grave, before removal.
If they were not the same dream, this may have then shifted into "Need I Say Those Are Fake?"
Need I Say Those Are Fake?
If they were not the same dream, this one, from my nap, may have then shifted out of "Mail-Order Murder."
I was at the computer--it was late night--and there was something that had to do with a casino lady. In real life there is this ad for Kewadin Casinos and there's this pretty woman who looks to be at least part Indian, in a purple dress, smiling and talking in a very fake cheerful voice about how you can win. I tend to think she could land a better job than shilling for casinos because she's so pretty, but her fakeness bugs me. I think the lady in my dream was supposed to be this same woman. Only now she had blond hair and didn't seem to be native at all. I had been wondering what kind of person she was and what else she might do for a living and now it's kind of like I met her in real life, yet on the computer, yet also maybe on TV. She was wearing a VERY tight shirt that very much emphasized her breasts, which seemed bigger. I was involved in talking to her, kind of, but it's like she was talking with someone else while I observed; hard to explain. I think some kind of investigation might have been going on--a CSI-type thing?--maybe David Caruso's character from CSI: Miami was involved?--and she was being talked to. She seemed to be leaning against something outside this diner or something, and that shirt really drew tight across her breasts. o_O
"Yeah," she said in a jaded voice. "People see me only for THESE nowadays." And when she pulled her arms back even more I noticed that the nipple areas of the shirt were in fact cut out and there was a sort of mesh or clear plastic or something over them instead. It did little to conceal them though, and you could obviously see her aureoles through her clothing!! How had she ended up so trashy? She even TALKED like she belonged in such a dingy situation. Sheesh, she should have practically been snapping chewing gum and twisting it around her finger.
Her breasts were so round and perky and perfect that I said, "Those are definitely fake." I don't recall what the investigation was about, nor what her particular role in it was.
If they were not the same dream, this may have then shifted into "How Can I Pick Just One?"
How Can I Pick Just One?
If they were not the same dream, this one, from my nap, may have then shifted out of "Need I Say Those Are Fake?"
I was standing in the stairwell looking for a decent necklace to wear. In real life we used to have a sort of folding partition or something that Ma hung all my necklaces on, and this was where it stood. It's barely accessible by now. In my dream the stairwell was much cleaner and I was looking to see what I had. I didn't think I'd have much luck finding a really pretty necklace but I was surprised to find some truly GORGEOUS ones there! I didn't even remember most of them. There was one that was like a large crystal marble with an opalescent sheen. I think there was a bluish one, and then a kind of metallic one with little crystals set into it kind of like a disco ball, or like seeds set into a strawberry. I think there was a cobra necklace, maybe also with a crystal or a little crystal ball. I could not decide which one I wanted to wear, they were all so pretty! So this was taking me quite a while just to go through them all.
If they were not the same dream, which they may have been, this then shifted into "VERY BAD KITTY!"
VERY BAD KITTY!
If this dream, from my nap, was not the same dream as "How Can I Pick Just One?"--which it may have been--it then shifted out of it.
I went walking out into the living room--it was night--and there were all these people at my house. Perhaps it was a party, or just a gathering. I felt kind of self-conscious but decided to try to be casual. I think there were at least two cats, one of which MIGHT or might not have been my own pet, Cosmas. I went over to sit down near where the heater is, maybe to look at some of the necklaces I'd gotten? (see "How Can I Pick Just One?"), and a dog and a cat were sitting nearby, kind of behind me and to my left, on the floor at the end of the footstool.
I glanced back over my shoulder as I did whatever I was doing. Maybe I was looking at some pictures. The other people with me also looked as they chatted. The cat appeared to be licking the dog's back foot; it was some kind of smallish dog, maybe like a terrier, possibly a Jack Russell. I thought it was cute that the cat was licking the dog's foot, but then it's like I was getting a closer look on a viewscreen (maybe a preview screen on a digital camera?), and the cat was in fact now licking a PENIS! A BIG penis!! The thing was so huge, it popped right up into view on the screen, practically jumping out at me. It was shiny and pink and...gah. Way much bigger than anything a little DOG should have had. It might not have even been his, but I knew the cat had been licking it. Ugh! Dumb cat!
I think now I was holding the camera(?), and this was displaying on it (it was also kind of like it was on the TV). I started making all these faces to let the people around me, who had also seen the sight, know what I thought of it. I couldn't really get rid of the image so I wanted them to know it wasn't like I was MAKING it stay there, just to get off on it! It just stuck out in that picture and the other people might have raised their eyebrows but said nothing. Still, I wished the image would just go away so I could stop sitting there holding it in my hands like that! >_<;
This image was still in my mind when I woke up. Gah.
2003 Dreams
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