Dreams Tell All

I haven't posted any dreams lately because they've gotten weirder, longer, and more disjointed. At this point, most of my dreams would take at least four screens to describe, and you'd probably give up halfway through because they would make no sense anyway. They didn't even make sense while I was dreaming them. So, here in no particular order I present to you some selections and synopses of some of the dreams I've been having. Feel free to post any suggested meanings or insights!

I'm at the home of a couple of genius mountain goats who own an art/architecture bookstore. Their home is out in the middle of a field, built inside an old semi trailer. As I'm being led through to the living room, I step on the wrong spot on their raised dining room and the whole thing starts to shift like a precariously balanced rock. The next thing I know, I'm surfing across their bookshelves, which are sliding everywhere, with their dining room floor as a surfboard. My friends (who work in the bookstore) appologize profusely to the goats for my lack of grace, and assure them that they had no idea that I wasn't capable of watching where I put my feet.

I'm in a hotel with a bunch of other college students (no, I'm not still in college in real life) for some sort of spring break conference or event. We're getting ready to meet friends, when the cat I'm petting out by the pool suddenly starts talking as if channeling spirits. Very strange. So we try to find our friend's room, only to discover that the floors seem to have changed around on us. The next thing we know, we're in the middle of a series of freaky interactions with "spirits" of some sort. We're battling our way through hallways, rooms, and lobbies, growing less incredulous moment by moment, until at last we're in this one room when we hear yet another voice coming from nowhere, saying something or other. When I finally get my breath back from battling invisible force fields to get into the room, I realize that the voice is actually addressing each of us. For example, "Stephen, you're such a cool and calm leader. Leaders like Stephen use X anti-perspirant for when the heat is really on. It helps a leader stay cool." Eventually we all realize that the voice is not taunting us, but trying to sell products to us. Out of the restroom comes one of the people in our team who had been "lost to the underworld" somewhere along the way, modeling an argyle sweater... The man who provided the "voice" walked next to him. After describing the sweater, he explained that we were some of the first people in the world to experience the radical new technology of interactive advertising. Everyone who stayed in the hotel would be subjected to some variation of the maze we'd been led through.

I'm helping out serving food at the wedding of some unidentified extended family member. My mom asks me if I'd be willing to distribute the ice cream. Sure, no problem, I think. Yeah. Problem. She hands me a half gallon plastic tub of some sort of three flavor swirl ice cream, and a plastic spoon. There are at least 30 people sitting at the table watching me, waiting for their ice cream. There's no way I'll be able to serve them each more than a tablespoon and still have enough to serve everyone, and they don't have any spoons or bowls or anything. I need supplies and a plan. What follows is a bit too painful to describe, but involves a lot of melted ice cream and grumpy/frustrated guests.

Mombi and I and our 9 mo old child are living in an old psychiactric hospital that we've purchased to remodel into a home. The only down side is that the former (psychotic) residents haunt the place, and they want us out. Whenever they feel our skin make contact with part of the buliding, any spirits that were close enough to sense it try to get rid of us by turning into corporeal giant spiders that spit toxic sludge at us. The good news is that we were all still alive and unharmed when I woke up.

I get caught messing around at summer camp when I'm supposed to be paying attention to a field trip presentation on how the gears on stage curtain lifters work. I explain that I already know, that I figured it out, and that I could probably build one myself if I wanted to. The teacher/guide is pissed, much the way most teachers are when they realize that you already know what they are supposed to be teaching you. So as "punishment" he assigns me to do just that, and points to a huge pile of spare parts. I think the intention was to make me back down on my statement that I already knew how they worked. It totally backfired, though, when I got all excited and wanted to get started right then, while the other students were still sitting there listening to a lecture. So I ended up getting to spend my evenings (presumably for the whole summer) climbing around on riggings up in the ceiling of a massive theater. Awesome!