Dream Journal

DREAM JOURNAL
1997TODAY
Diane L. Schirf

Copyright 19972012 by Diane L. Schirf 2
9 (?) June 1997
I was staying with friends, and it turned out T. F. F. lived there. He had a huge room at
the end of a hall, with a big boudoir/living-type room between the hall and it. It was
intriguing.
He wasnt around a whole lot (I think he disapproved of me being there, although it
wasnt planned to bother him). When he was, hed stay in his rooms with the door closed.
I dont remember meals.
When he wasnt in, I used to sneak in his room and lie in his bed. I think it was my
way of trying to get to know him better, as through osmosis or absorption. I remember
being horrified because when I would get up, Id leave blush stains on the pillowcases. I
think he knew what I was doing and it confused him. Hed look at me strangely or avoid
me.
I made myself wake up from the nap.
18 June 1997
I was at an art fair or something like that, probably in Chicago. I ended up
chaperoning, so to speak, a little boy at about the same time that the air fair turned into
Pleasant Avenue in Hamburg, New York (Pleasant Avenue was a country road, with some
houses and tiny cow farms.) Only part of the road was actually in peoples houses and part
of it was the regular road. We were going along it, looking at crafts-type stuff. It was an
adventure, toosometimes it was sunny, sometimes wet; sometimes the interiors of the
avenue were light and airy; sometimes they were dark and crowded and labyrinthine
(houses usually are in my dreams).
At one point, we had to do a dangerous walk on a ledge, with our backs to the house,
as in mountain or rock climbing. The whole thing was fun and unpredictable.
It got fuzzy what was going on. I think we had found somewhere to eat, and I was
distracted, and the boy vanished. I had seen a strange woman lurking and she was gone,
too. I panicked, trying to think how I was going to explain to this boys parents how Id
been so irresponsible as to lose him and how I thought some stranger had walked off with
him, just like all the horror stories in the papers about such things.
I woke up thinking that I didnt even know who this boys parents were, I had no one
to report this to, and even if I had, they could point out to me with equal justification that I,
a stranger, had walked off with the kid in the first place. Only the kid and I had not seen
each other as strangers in the least, and my intentions hadnt been bad. Just wasnt
thinking.
25 June 1997
Two dreams in one night. Must have been the combination of white zinfandel and
Unisom. Both dreams were vague. And I slept over nine hours (I was late today). Trudi
called me just before I finally fell asleep, wished me happy birthday, asked me a couple of
questions, and told me that Jeremy (one month) had been fussy for the last two nights and
she was tired, but apparently couldnt get anything that made sense from me in response,
so she gave up.
(The shorter one): I was in high school with T. F. F., and we were about to graduate. As
one of those pre-graduation parties/picnics/rituals every high school has, our class had a
sleepover at a church. Everyone brought their sleeping bags, etc., and picked out a pew. I

had a lot of stuffalmost like I was moving inand thought this would be a lot of fun. I
kept looking anxiously for him, but he never showed up. I eventually heard that he wasnt
going to because someone had died. I didnt really feel one way or the other over the
death, just disappointment that he wasnt going to be there and that I wasnt going to enjoy
what should have been fun any more.
The longer one: My husband and I, along with two childrena boy and a girlwere
looking for a house, only I did all of the looking with the children. Im under the
impression the house I found was in Europesomewhere old, green, and hilly. This house
was dark and labyrinthine (like most of the houses in my dreams), but the back (dining
room?) looked out on green rolling hills and other large, old brick houses. I kept trying to
convince the children how much fun this house would be. They didnt seem as convinced
as I was about how much fun having tea in this place was going to be. I dont think they
liked how dark it was inside and how bright outside as much as I did. The setting and
situation somewhat reminded me of how I saw The Turn of the Screw.
Along the side of this house was a watercoursesometimes it was more like a river,
with natural surroundings; sometimes it was more like a partially indoor channel. It ended
abruptly in a grate, where a little water spilled onto concrete, as in a parking lot or
something like that. It seemed problematical. Between it and the view of the rolling hills
and houses, I wanted the house, but I dont actually remember buying it or moving into it.
I swam down the watercourse one day and thoroughly enjoyed it (although I never did
understand whether it was indoors or out or exactly what it was). Unfortunately, as a result,
water spilled everywhereall over the parking lot or whatever it was beyond the grate
and, I later found out, all over the cellar of the house, which was dripping with the
moisture and moss. It reminded me of whats been happening lately when I take a
showersomeone must have turned up the pressure, because Ive been getting water on
the floor (like I did last night).
10 August 1997
I just wanted to take a nap for a half hour. I dreamed I was a baseball player being
pursued by a vampire, who turned out to be my teammate (either the right- or
centerfielder). I ran and ran past all kinds of typical suburban houses in the country,
including a one-story house that had several half-moon windows (which are pretty, but it
had four or five, which looked weird. It was blue). I was carrying a Bible and a crucifix. I
ran through some hilly, wooded, dark countryside and ended up in the trailer park in
which I had grown up. The building that used to be there suddenly had a high, steep
staircase. I ran up and hid for awhile, reading (not the Bible), but got scared because the
trailer park owner didnt like us being there. Someone came and tried to get up the
staircase, but it was blocked by something all of a sudden and they gave up. I came down
and tried to get out, but it was blocked by what looked like large garbage bags. It turned
out to be teenage delinquent boys. The one I had pushed tried to escape, but I yelled at
him to line up single file and the person in charge of them yelled at him, too, so he didnt
escape. I woke up with a headache.
1 September 1997
I was a servant in a poor (cheap) mans house. The only nice thing they had was a
keyboard instrument, which the wife let me play. All I could play was Frre Jacques. One
day his wife gave me some gifts (birthday, perhaps), including two gold rings with

amethysts and, I think, some cooking pans. In reality, they were all elves who hated the
husband. The rings adapted themselves to fit my fingers. The man found out and took them
from me (because they were valuable both as gold and as elves), but the rings bit him
viciously and tried to make him give them back to me. The pans burned him (he didnt
want them back, just the rings, but they were supporting the rings). A man appeared in the
window and asked the wife directions. To them, he looked like a distinguished aristocrat,
but he looked strangely at me, and I saw that his cape was really a bats wing. His eyes
flashed and I knew he was a powerful vampire and that the wife had inadvertently given
him an entre to the house. I had known the house was doomed (somehow, that had
happened in the past), but didnt know how hed gotten in. This explained it.
Thats all I remember. He flew off into night over the city, and I woke up nervous.
12 September 1997
I forgot the first part of the dream, which was rather weird and fascinating. I wanted it
to last longer, and I wanted to remember it.
After the first part, I was trekking through what appeared to be an upper-class
neighborhood. It seemed rural, because there were lots of wooded areas with very old
trees and banks with tall, thick grass and wildflowerssomewhat like some of the old
houses in the neighborhood where my aunt lived in Washington, D.C. It was a great
experience because I love walking through greenery. It was late dusk, my favorite time for
reflecting or not thinking at all.
I did have a purpose, though. I was looking for her. I cant remember exactly why,
however. Part of it was I wanted to meet her and to get to know herthere seemed to be
something enigmatic and wonderful about her. Part of it involved danger. Either she was in
danger or she was putting someone else in danger, consciously or unconsciously.
I came out onto an open road and immediately felt that something horrible was going
to happen. A car appeared out of nowhere (literally) and cut off a van that was on the road.
The van flipped several times and ended up on its roof, crushed. When I got there,
however, it was not upside down, nor was it that damaged. To my surprise, shock, and
horror, it was my family. My brother had been driving. He was dead, although there were
no marks or blood. I was horrified and couldnt believe it. I wanted it not to be true. He
opened his eyes and said something like, Arent you going to do something? This was
very strange because I hadnt thought he was dead; he was dead. I pulled him out right
away. (Not a bad feat, considering hes 62 and 235 lbs.) I pulled my mother and father
out. This struck me as strange, because I was worried my mother had been killed, yet in
the dream I was quite aware shes been dead since 1983.
I became panicky and asked worriedly, Where is she? My mother said very calmly
that she was in the pocket in the back. I looked in the back of the van and found a pocket
in the side. Inside the pocket was an envelope. When I looked in the envelope, I saw
nothing. But something started growing out of ita little circular cake with thick, sweet-
looking white icing, blue icing trim, and a happy little face. It was indeed her. She was
special and magical, yet lightweight and meaningless.
13 September 1997
This dream meandered all over the place, so Im not sure of the order, but I am sure
Ive forgotten pieces.

My best friend from grade school was collecting exotic animals. I wasnt quite sure if
we were going to eat them (which upset me), or if it was for another purpose. She had a
giant tortoiseprobably from Galapagos. She acquired an American alligator. I worried
because I was sure the alligator was a threat to the tortoise. Sure enough, the alligator
climbed on top of the tortoise, breaking its shell and spine. (When I woke up, I realized
this makes no sense because the alligator, at perhaps 200 lbs., was much smaller than the
tortoise, at perhaps 800 lbs.)
I was horrified (the poor tortoise was still alive but obviously sufferingits shell was
split, its tongue was hanging out, and its eyes were pained) and insisted that she have it
euthanized. They had to think about it, but agreed. I saw them carrying the tortoise off to
be taken care of, but in the back of my mind I knew they werent really going to do it and I
couldnt make them. They were going to let it suffer forever.
I also remember something about going to the sea and talking to the sea creatures,
probably about my remorse, sadness, or guilt.
I made friends with a small horse in the woods, and I was afraid for it because it was
tiny and helpless, and predators abounded. A male lion attacked it and wounded it, but it
survived. A female lion, much smaller than the male, attacked the male. I suddenly saw the
horse and the lions in a circular, circus-like cage in the woods. The male lion was dead,
killed by the female, and the injured horse seemed confused about its fate stuck with a
female lion that could kill a male. The female seemed willing to let the horse wonder
anxiously. I couldnt get into the cage to free the horse, and I cried over its uncomfortable,
never-ending future of fear and uncertainty.
I was on my honeymoon (I dont know with whomhe never had a specific form) and
we checked into the hotel, only to find out that there werent enough rooms for all of us,
not even enough beds (we had children with us for some reason, although I dont think
they belonged to either one of us). We were trying to figure out how we could arrange
everyone in this crowded space, given that some of the beds/mattresses were straw and
very uncomfortable. And by then another adult had appeareda brother- or sister-in-law.
And we discussed whether we should go ahead and enjoy the honeymoon, if you know
what I mean, knowing that all these kids, and the adult, would most likely hear it. I think
we decided we didnt want to expose the kids. We did try to rationalize that they wont
hear or they wont know, but we couldnt because it was the wrong thing to do under
the circumstances. We had the satisfaction of knowing wed done the right thing, but it
wasnt the type of satisfaction we wanted.
I was in a large auditorium with about 150 people, all of whom were my brothers and
sisters. Our father was Chuck Norris. At the front was a door to a hallway. Across the
hallway was a room in which illicit activities went ongambling, prostitution, etc. The
boys in the back room ran through my mind. I was in the last row, and behind me were
large doors, with security fences and locks across them. At some point, a man broke in
through the back door (at the front, the backwardness of which one of my siblings had
pointed out to me when I became confused), bringing with him a little boy. He told us he
was going to hold us hostage while his very talented son read us his poetry. The boy began
to read, and the man threatened us with serious firepower if we looked bored or didnt
respond enthusiastically. Meanwhile, I sat in the back making wisecracks and trying not to
be caught. The father eventually heard me and asked me if I could do any better. I pulled
out my notebook with thousands of pages of writings, but I couldnt find the one profound
poem I knew was in there that would prove I had the greater talent. In my panic, I

managed to start a ruckus among my siblings that ended up with the man being
overwhelmed and taken to prison.
Years later, I was hauling rocks in a wheelbarrow. I didnt seem to know where or why,
but that I had to. I suddenly saw the manI think he was in a locomotive or something
like that. And in a flash I realized who his son was. I walked up to him and reminded him
of who I was, and said, Your son was the great Robbie Burns, wasnt he? The man
looked at me sadly and said, Yes, he was. And I realized I was somehow guilty for his
early death (Burns died of alcoholism at age 37, I believe). I told him that my own father
had had yet more childrenit was what he did. We had a long talk about his Robbie and
my dad.
I left with my wheelbarrow and found a row of houses with yards, all of which had
fences, not unlike suburbia. They had gates in between. Children were playing baseball in
the first yard. I tried to get in the gate (by now, the wheelbarrow had disappeared), but the
latch (a spiral) wouldnt work. Finally, one of the parents told one of the children to let me
in. She did so easily. I explained that, because of the bend of the spiral, it was easy to open
from the inside but difficult from the outside. Although they checked it out for themselves
and found it to be so, they still regarded me suspiciously.
To get through and out of this place, I had to go through the houses, which were very
floral and very labyrinthine. The people would let me in and tell me to go into another
room to find the door into the next house. I would, however, see no doors, or I would
open doors and they would be merely closets, or other rooms like kitchens. I even tried to
use things like the TV set as a door. I felt hopeless, trapped, and under suspicion. Finally,
two old ladies showed me the secret. It was a looking-glass phenomenon.
19 September 1997
I was The Shadow (the Orson Welles radio version) and, at the same time, the
lovely Margo Lane (presumably Agnes Moorehead). The problem was in an old
labyrinthine library that was really a community or citypeople lived and worked there,
or so it seemed. The city was being terrorized by gangsmostly teenagers, but some
appeared to be in their twenties, even thirties. They captured me at one point, but, being
the Shadow, I got away (after they spotlighted me with a special green light while they
were escorting me).
Margo (also me) was trying to run from them, and, while going through a reading
room, she observed students using secret passages through the books and bookcases,
which she tried to take advantage of. It was a little more problematic for her, and she
became panicky. The Shadow never did find her before I woke up.
29 September 1997
Susan (ex-roommate) and I went to a Silly Wizard (our favorite Scots bandextinct for
about 9 years) concert, but we were separated. The layout of the auditorium kept evolving
and I ended up in a great location where not only could I see the boys well, but they were
interacting with me. I tried to find her so she could get in on it but couldnt until
intermission. She told me to come outside. I followed her, but she disappeared into the
night in front of me. Suddenly, it started pouring and I got soaking wet (and was more
unattractive than usual as a result). I ducked into a basement, and it turned out to be the
building where SW was taking their break. Gordon (guitar, bodhran, whatever) was the
only one there at the moment. He took a liking to me and asked me to be a roadie for

them while they were in Chicago, playing Elmhurst College and the like. I jumped at the
chance, of course (and was already planning in my head how I was going to get out to
these suburban/Wisconsin/Michigan locales). We both used verbal and nonverbal cues
that this was not a groupie sex thing. Johnny (wonder fiddler) wandered in at some point
and I think we chatted a bit. Andy (lead singer, whistle, banjo) popped in and I said,
Guess what? Gordons offered me a job helping you all set up and stuff! Gordon looked
uncomfortable and said, Well, its no doubt a lot of trouble for you to get to these places
[I had never said that], so, really, never mind. I had a feeling that Andy disapproved of me
or of the situation and thats why Gordon retracted his offer. I was, needless to say,
crushed. And I had so wanted to tell Susan of my good fortune!
10 April 1998
I was walking up Michigan Avenue and set my purse and bag down to do something.
(My purse is usually wrapped around me, so this was not the norm.) I realized I didnt feel
well so I was going to stop at Walgreens at Michigan and South Water to get aspirin or
something. Just before I got there I remembered I had a flight to China that day (Id won a
contest. Why Im always determined in my dreams to get to China is well beyond me.). I
went to look in my purse for the info as to when2:00 p.m. stuck in my mind, in which
case I would have to rush home, pack quickly, and rush to the airport (forgetting about the
cat)and realized Id left them where Id set both down on Michigan.
Hoping to run into a good Samaritan who would hand them to me, I backtracked, still
panicky about making the flight to China. No luck. I discovered two or three wallets on the
way, one even with a few dollars in it, but not mine. I left them lying (which was strange;
in real life Id have turned them in). I opened an outside door on Michigan Avenue that
lead, not into a bar or restaurant, but a closet. There was a purse, but not mine. I finally
found it in there, emptied of course. I began to think of how to replace the few cards I
have. I found an empty briefcase like mine, but with a strange white lining. Eventually I
found my briefcaseemptied. The SPDs Id been working on were gone. And thats when I
completely panicked. I tried to think of ways to explain to the client how wed lost their
SPDs (in the dream, they were the only copy, and theres always a confidentiality issue)
without me looking stupid or negligent. And how to explain to everyone how Id just
remembered I had to go to China for a couple of weeks, after promising to help out with
several projects next week, as well as work on several Lear pension SPDs. I was exhausted
when I woke up.
16 May 1998
I was in a hotel in the city where T. F. F. liveswhich may be true in a few weeks. And
I stood on the patio of my room looking out over the city wanting so badly to see him and
knowing how unlikely it is he would agree to it. And there was no end to the sadness.
And I keep thinking, why cant I be happy and at least have a little of what I want in
my dreams? Why do they have to be as painful as life? Why does my subconscious not
give me a little relief?
18 June 1998
Wednesday afternoon, while I was sleeping instead of being outside in the sun and
healthy air (I dont know why I cant bring myself to going outsidenothing to do and no
one to do it with, perhaps . . .), I had another very, very bizarre dream. The framework

seemed to be that Kris (a friend from college, now in Ann Arbor, Michigan) had told me
about a movie shed seen, but I couldnt follow her description of it. It didnt seem to make
sense. (I dont remember that I dreamed about the description, just that I couldnt follow it.)
I went to the movie myself, but in the end the movie felt like it was really happening to me
. . . but I still couldnt follow it.
In it, a woman (seemingly me) married a man, and they flew to his home through the
air. At this point he seemed to have no defined appearance. Once they arrived there, she
sat down, and he suddenly appeared to have a lions head or at least something like that.
He was not human, but he wasnt a space alien or anything like that. He was mythical or
magic. They consummated the marriage in the chair, and it turned out that, for his kind,
sex results in immediate pregnancy and a child very shortly thereafter. Everythingthe sex,
the pregnancy, the childwas quite wonderful. He returned to being undefined in
appearance.
They traveled (through space/timesome magical way) to a place underground, where
his brother or another of his kind was. He told me that I must get hold of all of the
asparagus spears lying between him and the other, because the other would use them as
weapons against him and our child. With difficulty, I retrieved all the spears, but he was
forced to use one of them on a friend of his brothers, who died rather violently. I thought
that this movie was not meant for children, although it seemed to have been marketed that
way.
At some point in the future he was to have been crowned king, but his brother tried to
kill him in revenge for the other death. It became a little vague at this point.
The whole thing felt very otherworldly, and both pleasant and unpleasant.
24 July 1998
My mother told me she had gone to the doctor and learned she had a degenerative
disease and would die any day. My father knew but continued on as usual. I was
devastated and cried and hugged her, but at the same time I didnt want to change how I
acted toward her because I didnt want her to be uncomfortable.
I walked across an ice-covered, low-lying field and climbed a snow bank that was
impossibly high. I jumped off when I realized I couldnt really have climbed it. I was
appalled that adults were telling kids to walk across the ice and through the water, yet they
all managed either to walk on the ice or through the water with no ill effects.
I was trying to be intimate with someone next to my house in the semi-darknessI kept
insisting on staying outdoors rather than going insideand a wild catserval?came
from the woods and attacked us until we had to trap it in a blanket. We were surprised
because we had thought that it would like us. I remember making lots of sounds during the
act.
I woke up with a leg that was sound asleep.
27 July 1998
Yesterday, I dreamed I was in either a church or a university, along with many of the
people I knew in high school, including The Boy, who had much longer hair. I was
supposed to be going to classes, but I always forget when, where, and what the early ones
were and never made it to them; at that rate, I would never finish. My former high school
classmates didnt know who I was and ignored me.

A pair of twins, swinging from a tree in the twilight, told me they were entertainers, but
hadnt had a gig in a year. It was hard to tell if they were upset or didnt care.
I also climbed a precarious ramp to an alcove in which someone was singing, but
when I saw her and talked to her, I realized it was better to leave. There were also firemen
or police around, and a display of guns and bayonets.
As for me, it was my fifth year at the four-year school, which I was too embarrassed to
tell anyone.
People were afraid of a miniature lion there. I was careful around him, but he still got
me with his claws once in awhile. Finally, one day I kissed himseveral timesdeep,
soulful kisses. It was quite wonderful and enlightening. After that, he couldnt get enough
of me. I probably felt the same way, although I wouldnt admit it and was still a little leery
of the claws.
31 July 1998
This mornings special edition involved an elephant (I couldnt tell whether it was
African or Asian), my dad, his van, a male spy, a girl who thought she was my roommate
(this was my idea, because the spy was chasing me to get the elephant, which I had
handed over to my dad, and I was hiding out in her apartment, which was around the
corner from his house) and who really bought my story that my name was Whisper, a
weird, almost Edward Scissorshands-like neighborhood, and a futuristic mall through
which the elephant thief/spy chased me. The chase culminated in an art deco glass bar that
could have been out of A Clockwork Orange. I was hiding amongst the glass fixtures as a
nude statue doing a one-handed handstand at the back, but I made the mistake of facing
the spy guy just as he got there, so I had to walk through the back wall of the bar into the
back hallway of the mall.
9 August 1998
It was either just before or just after the wedding, and the participants had set up camp
in a trailer down the row and across from oursand, worse, I think it was some strange
color like scarlet. There were a lot of people milling about, including Mama. At one point,
I could see the bridewearing a blue gingham or checked one-piece shorts outfit that
showed her sides. (I remember thinking it wasnt in very good taste under the
circumstances.) No matter how hard I tried, however, I couldnt see the groom, and this
surprised me because of the obvious. Someoneprobably Mamamust have realized that
I was being nosy because they pulled the drapes. Shortly, however, they opened them
again so that I could see how many people were there and how they were enjoying
themselves. I then asked my dad to drive me to a store to pick up some little thing I just
had to have at the moment (still determined to see the groom). When we drove by, the
window was full of some of my past acquaintances, almost taunting me.
Another one: I was the oldest daughter of a large family, mostly boys but with at least
one sister. The father was never around; when he was, he must have been very verbally
abusive, because I remember really not wanting him to come back and not wanting to hear
his mouth. We had all kinds of pet primates (including the worlds largest pygmy
marmoset), and all the kids would keep mixing them up in their cages. I kept trying to stop
them because you cant just throw primates together like that; there were a lot of injuries,
and one of my favorite monkeys was killed by an ape, who took its whole poor little head
in its mouth and bit its spinal cord. It was a never-ending chore keeping them separated

and from hurting each other. Meanwhile, the sister was nursing one of the monkeys, and I
kept telling her to stop because then the old man would be able to tell (from her breasts, I
guess) that shed had a baby. (Dont ask me what happened to the baby. I think we gave it
away to a family.) I kept trying to get away in a van with some of the primates and even a
few of the kids, and I remember camping out on something like fire escapes at restaurants.
I think I even managed to finagle a restaurant meal. I think the father must have made an
appearance, maybe in flashback, because I hated the way he yelled at me.
2 September 1998
There was no wardrobe, but a witch (me) and a lion (T. F. F.). (When I say my
brother or father, its not my brother or father, but the people who were my father and
brother in the dream.)
I was by a river when I found a lion. I dont know how I found him or where he came
from, but he didnt seem to belong there. I worried about him because the river was
strangealmost surrealand didnt look like it was fit to drink; where it ended (or began)
was a strange color, and it improved only a little further down. It didnt look like water.
I thought the lion would die if he were left there with no real water to drink. He
seemed to be trying to tell me something; all I could do was to hold his paw and tell him
wed figure something out. He was achingly handsome and had beautiful, sad, vulnerable
eyes.
Eventually, we, along with my father and brother, boarded a bus or train. No one
seemed to realize he was a lion, but they seemed to think that something was a little
different about him. Although he sat behind me on the bus, we were constantly looking at
each other, as though for reassurance the other was still there.
I felt a pain under my chin; someone told me it was a device for playing back
something about a particular place (I think I had been there) and that if I didnt want it, I
could get rid of it. Despite the slight pain, I kept it, as though I had to have that knowledge.
Then I was in a field. I saw my brother and father approaching, but no lion. They told
me thered been a train wreck and that he was lying dead in a tunnel among the wreckage.
I was inconsolable and begged to be taken back to it to see if anything could be done.
They agreed to finally, but he wasnt there. We returned to the field, and the lion appeared.
Hed gone to get a hamburger. He seemed proud of himself for having done something in
human society without anyone noticing who or what he was.
There was a robbery at a store; it was unclear to me who was doing the robbing. A
shootout involved a very odd incident of someone quietly riding a bicycle away in the
middle. Someone I knew was killed in the shooting, but Im not sure who. It may have
been my father, brother, or both, or someone else.
I was back in the field, I think, wearing a shoulder-less, backless, very sensual dress; I
could feel my hair on my back like a caress. The lion came toward me, only now he was a
human; I thought how strange it was he didnt have a beard to represent his mane. He had
a huge chin and jaw and wasnt very attractive in the usual wayhe reminded me of
someone, only darker. I tried to kiss him, but at first he wouldnt let me. I started with his
cheek, and then I kissed him very passionately on the lips. It was the most wonderful
experience, and I wanted it never to end.
Someone said cut, and my brother and the lion walked off talking about a game, as
though I had never been there and as though nothing magical had been happening.
Apparently, it was a movie, and all of that surrealism, meaning, and unspoken passion
were gone. Devastating.

4 September 1998
I was at home, and so was Virgil, along with either friends or relatives. I was naked; I
dont know why. I was also miserable; I couldnt stop crying in a very painful way. I had to
kill myself, but everyone, including Virgil, wanted me to go outside so it wouldnt interfere
with their socializing and joy. So I did, naked. It was very demoralizing.
Another one: I was told there were three dogs; two were different colors, and the third
was a combination of the other two colors. I dont remember the details, but I was
supposed to steal one of them because it was brighter than the other two and was being
ignored or mistreated. I knocked on a door and ended up with a teeny baby who could
read the number I was wearing as a nametag. I was frightened because the baby could
identify me for the police if he or she could read my number. I dont remember the details
of interacting with it, just taking it home and no one knowing quite what to about it and
not caring what I did about it. I think someone suggested taking it somewhere, but I wasnt
sure that was the right thing to do.
I went into a bedroom where sheets were spread on padded benches; one of them was
my fathers. On the floor a little blonde-haired boy named Todd was sleeping. I
remembered he had an older, black-haired brother named Randy about whom I was
suddenly curious and worried. I asked him if hed heard from his brother, and he said no,
not for many, many years. I became really afraid.
5 October 1998
A long, convoluted dream. The time was the present, and Virgil and I were at the
trailer. Dad didnt drive any more, so the driveway was overgrown with grass, and a lot of
things had changed. I went to the store and bought a Buffalo Bills lunchbox, which I dont
have the money for (being unemployed). It had an impossibly tiny handleonly one finger
would fit through itbut the lid had a great photo of their quarterback Steve Reno. A
photo showed a big lineman limping off the field with a caption about the Bills being an
aging team.
I brought it back and told Virgil about it, but when I showed him, it was only cartoons.
I kept saying, But there were Bills photos! The cover had this picture of Steve Reno! No
matter how I looked at it, it was only cartoons. Virgil kept saying, I believe you that it was
a Bills lunchbox, but I thought he was just being amiable and didnt believe me.
When I opened it, it suddenly contained foodreally tiny sandwiches, bananas, and
either graham crackers or Pop Tarts. Virgil said, Oh, yeah, most lunchboxes come like
thathere are some graham crackers that came with Courtneys. Why dont you save your
lunch for your trip back and split the graham crackers that came with Courtneys with
her? (Courtney was sleeping and I went through all kinds of anxiety about whether to
wake her up or not.) Deemah or her mother or another third party started yelling that Virgil
shouldnt be giving away any of Courtneys food since she was already malnourished.
Then I woke up . . . and thats not including the beginning of the dream.
26 October 1998
Ive been dreaming a lot lately but not keeping very good records of the dreams. Too
tired, too sick (cold, cycle, root canal). Its been an interesting couple of weeks, but not in
the best sense. Here are the highlights.
I was at home, and my mother warned me that the neighbors across the street and one
trailer down were watching us. She kept closing the drapes, but no matter what we did, I

always had an eerie sense that it couldnt change the fact they could see us and get to us. I
think I talked Dad into driving us around somewhere, including the field, but in the end,
this didnt help either. We were all dismemberedrepeatedly. I wish I could remember
more of the details because this particular dream had a surreal aura.
I dreamed, too, that I was in the fieldthe part before the basketball netwith Kirk
and Spock of Star Trek on a mission. Something happened, and if I remember correctly we
started to freeze. Spock and I had a deep discussion or debate. As I woke up, he was lying
on top of me (presumably to keep me warm as part of whatever the crisis was), but it also
felt like more than that. Not so much sex as a sense of being loved and protected.
Logically, of course. I didnt want to wake up from that one. For once I felt good. Is it any
coincidence that I associate Spock with T. F. F., who equated himself with Spock so many
times?
27 October 1998
I dont know if I had one long, convoluted, strange dream last night/this morning or
several that ran together. Either way, the themes were completely unnervingperhaps the
combination of bizarre concepts with familiar commonplaces.
I lived in California or a place like it. It was not a good place to besomething strange
was going on in the government, and conspiracies were all around. [Im sure this part was
a direct result of the episode of Sliders I was listening to at midnight.] I lived with a man
and his family. He was told to drown me, although it wasnt clear who told himeither his
wife or the government, because I seemed to be a threat to both. He had a choice of
throwing me in the cold Sargasso Sea or an adjacent body of water (but not cold). I felt
horribly betrayed.
He threw me in the cold Sargasso Sea, but it didnt seem cold and, to my surprise, I
could still breathe underwater. I seemed to run in logic circles over this. Being human, I
cant breathe underwater, so I must have died; on the other hand, I was breathing
underwater and I didnt die, although I did think that it would be best to die under the
circumstances, so I tried, but I couldnt.
I ended up in a car with the man and family; I was still surrounded by water. The wife
wanted reassurance that I was dead. He said I was, although Im sure he knew better,
because he still seemed attracted to me. I dont know what happened after that.
Then I lived in a very strangely designed, apparently decrepit motor home. To drive it
required pushing a button and one of three pedals (I wish I could remember how they were
labeled because the names were quite odd and didnt make sense). I had a difficult time
figuring out how to drive. The part I drove from was connected to the body by a string, not
even a rope.
It occurred to me that I had driven cross-country and was in either Pennsylvania or
New York. I saw some of the surreal countryside that frequently appears in my dreams. I
drove up a very steep hillvirtually 90 degreesand wondered how I could drive down
again.
I passed all types of strange vehicles, some belching smoke or fog; I drove on the
wrong side of the road in places either because something was in the way or the lane was
too narrow. In one place something moving alongside the road prevented anyone from
getting by, but I squeezed past using part of the other lane. In another, I got through a very
narrow road that was covered with something that had spilled (straw or hay?) and learned
afterward that it wasnt really the road, but something improvised. I got past all kinds of

obstacles that should have prevented any traffic from getting through for miles. My vehicle
seemed able to change size and direction if I pushed its limits.
As I got closer to New York, I called a friend. She asked me something like, How is it
going? and Are you bringing him with you? Him was apparently a man named Ken
(I think); he may even have been the husband/father from before. I told her that I had to
bring him; for one thing, we couldnt seem to stop [insert naughty word here] like
honeymooners. I seemed ecstatic over this, as though this is exactly what I wanted.
I arrived at my hometown, at a trailer park. Nothing seemed familiar. To get into the
trailer park, you had to walk under a tiny, seemingly plastic archway, and then you found
yourself on a bridge that my brother had improvised. It seemed to consist of thin slats of
wood as supports put together a little bit like the old Lionel train tracks (that always fell
apart) and was very rickety, as though you would be afraid of going in or coming out once
you were in one place or the other.
On one side of the bridge was a very pretty town with lovely houses, old trees, and lots
of woods and open space. On the other side was torn-up desolation.
The trailer in which my family lived was also strangely designed and decrepit. I
remember a few striking features: there were three wires or cables on the ceiling that had
some special significance; the living room was just large enough for a sofa and seemed to
be more of part of the hallway than a living room; opposite the living room was an
aquarium with gold-colored fishes of all shapes and sizes. I didnt want to look in case any
were dead; as it turned out, five of the smallest were dead on the bottom. Someone there
told me that my brother had a friend who had developed a technique for sucking out the
innards of dead animals, leaving behind a beautiful, colorful, realistic shell or pelt. He
showed me a basket of such remains. I remember a turtle that seemed very colorful, but I
didnt really think I would like to touch it under the circumstances.
I went for a drive and discovered that much of what I remembered as wooded and
pretty was now a barren, dugout wastelandunbelievably dreary. When I came back, my
brother told me that it was Abel Road that I had seen. What happened to all the quaint
frame farmhouses? What happened to the trees, the fields, and the loveliness? They were
all gone with nothing of value to replace them.
The bridge came apart, and it seemed to be my fault or responsibility. It appeared to be
the end of everything.
There was a lot more detail, and I wish I could convey how strange it was. I woke up
coughing and wondering if I really could breathe. It seemed strange that I could, because I
still felt like I was drowning.
1 November 1998
I was in college again and fearful of not getting a job, exactly like now. My parents and
I discussed the possibility that I would have to go home after graduation, but we didnt
know what to do because there was no longer a place for me.
Meanwhile, I had obtained a small snake and put it into a terrarium. I dont think I fed
the snake, but it kept growing and growing. I put a top on the terrarium, but the snake was
able to push it up and escape. I caught it and put it back in again with a heavy glass lid,
but it kept growing and managed to lift even that top. I caught it just as it got its head out
and pushed it back in. I was panicky because I didnt know what I was going to do with it
nextall of this had happened in the same day. I wasnt sure what species it was, or
whether it was native or exotic. No one wanted it.

At the same time, I noticed the terrarium suddenly had water in it, more like an
aquarium, as well as several fishes, frogs, and even a couple of scraggly birds that not only
were thin, but were missing their feathers.
I took the snake out, and it kept getting its head free and trying to bite me. Although in
real life I handle snakes all the time and have no psychological problems with them like
many people doI really like themthis snakes increasing size and constant struggling
were repulsive to me because they were unnatural and otherworldly. I decided to release it
into the field or woods next to where I lived. I let it go in the woods, wondering if I was
making a mistake, on top of the mistake of having gotten it in the first place.
When I took the snake out, I noticed a toad as well, so I had to go back and get it to
release it, too. It had grown and gotten out just like the snake had. When I tried to put it
back, I realized it was really my cat, or looked just like her. I kept cramming it into the
terrarium, although it wouldnt fit. It looked so pathetic, a wet, squished cat in a water-
filled terrarium, but I had to do it. When I took the terrarium out, I had to struggle to get the
cat out (and was hoping it would take the fish and other creatures with it); when I finally
got it out of the terrarium, it was a toad again and hopped away.
As I returned home, I saw that my fathers old flower garden was behind a curtain,
fenced off. I went in and noticed that a stage-shaped framework was being built as an
attachment to the home. It was very strange looking and made of strange, almost linoleum-
like or other smooth materialsnot wood or metal. It covered some parts of the home, but
holes had been cut out for the bathroom and my old bedroom windows. It also obstructed
a fence that I thought was very homey looking. I found that disturbing.
When I asked my parents, they told me it was to be my space when I returned. It
seemed odd because it appeared to have only three sides and very high, windowless walls,
and it flared out. The effect was of an open stage that was enclosed and claustrophobic. I
couldnt imagine living there and woke up feeling both burdened by the problem with the
animals that wouldnt stop growing and escaping and trapped by where I was going to live.
1 November 1998
I was in my room at home, but there were other people there, almost like a ship. On
the wall outside my door was a communication center. I would wake up and see strange
messages for the engineer, almost like they were from hell. They read like e-mails from
evil@something. It concerned me, but when I tried to get dressed, all I had was a
blanket. My brother came out of his room and couldnt figure it out, either.
The field next to where we lived had been broken up into something I didnt like,
something that took away from it or how I felt about it. It was colorful, but not in a real
way or a way that would last. Then, to appease me, the woman who owned it [no such
person] turned part of it into a stream with a house-like building next to it.
The house was slate blue and had a picturesque bridge over the river built in. We
thought it was to be a community center or library, which would have made me happier
with the situation. On closer examination, however, we found that it was for salea price
was painted on the windows. I wanted to break the windows, I was so upset, but my
brother stopped me. Just then, a tennis ball bounced off the window, and I saw a little boy
retrieve it. I spoke to him about how it was wrong to try to break windows like that, but
secretly wished hed been successful.
My brother tried to calm me, but I was crying hysterically. I tried to explain my
despairthe field as it had been had a path that disappeared into sun-filled, shadowy

woods that evoked a mood or feelings too beautiful to live without. It was difficult to make
anyone understand their importance and their loss.
The next part was either a second dream or an abrupt change from the first. I was at a
luxury hotel and had just married a man for the second time. I didnt know why I hadnt
been married to him any more or why I married him again; I just knew I was married to
him again. A woman asked me what I was going to do with my baby (not that I
remembered having one), and I confidently answered that a babysitter would be okay for
one day and night.
I was lying in bed waiting for the groom (and having no idea what he looked like or
even who he was), clothed from head to toe, neck to wrist, in a white gown. Very
modestor secretive. I also wasnt sure it was meI didnt look or feel like me. I waited
and waited and he didnt show up for a long time. I kept thinking that there was one place
he could touch and I would be ecstatic.
My father arrived; he wasnt my real-life father, but my father in this story. He seemed
obsessed with cleaning up something in the room, no matter how many times I told him
that the staff not only were supposed to do that but wanted to do it. He conceded only
when the hotel maid told him, too.
Then it was morning, and I was still anxiously awaiting somethingthat special touch
in that special place. A womana sister-in-law, perhapsarrived with a huge meal, right
after I had been served a large bowl of beef stew. My brother (not my real-life brother) was
there, too. I felt overwhelmed with food. Maybe it was to make up for what had
happenedwhat had not happened. How did anyone know? I felt that everyone knew
something I didnt.
He finally arrivedat least, I think it was him. He said something and then slapped me
in the face. He tried to punch me, too, but I tried very hard to protect my teeth. Then I got
my arms freehe had them pinnedand managed to go after him and try to slap him
back. I dont know whether I succeeded or not.
Then I woke up aching in heart and soul.
6 November 1998
I wish I understood where the dreams of the last couple of days are coming from. I
know Im a little tired, possibly a little sick, and it seems to be coming out in the weirdness
of my dreams.
The dreams of the last couple of days have involved T. F. F. I dont remember the first
clearly, other than that we seemed to be working for the same organization and he
couldnt avoid me. The girl was there, too. I kept feeling there was more going on between
them than either would let onnot necessarily in a positive sense. From a dream
perspective, it seems to have been no more than wishful thinking on my partseeing what
I wished to see. The strange part was the role cats played in the dream later. There were
leopards involved, and breeding, as well as corporate spying.
10 November 1998
This was a waking dream I had while falling asleep. I was at what I perceived as my
old high school or college, in a hallway with doors at either end and wooden double doors
in the wall. I opened the double doors, expecting a gymnasium, locker room, auditorium,
or backstage dressing room, only to find another set of identical wooden double doors
inside. It became obvious there was nothing but a solid walla hallway with two doors

and a wall and no reason for existing. Someone whom I think I knew yelled that there was
an emergency and I should head for one of the two ends of the hall, but I couldntI was
paralyzed by fear. I wonder now whether I wasnt having a premonition that one or both
doors at the ends might also lead to a wall and no escape. I woke up shaking and jumpy,
with my heart racing. It took a while before I was calm enough to sleep again.
21 November 1998
10:29 PM
I had a dream now in which I, in front of some girls of questionable occupation who
happened to be there, was running down an alley because what appeared to be a
policeman had arrived and was going to arrest me along with them. Everything was pitch
dark, and I had a sudden feeling of being completely alone and not entirely in a tangible
place any more. A voice said, Diane, why are you running? You cant get away. You will
die. In a couple of days; less than 48 hours. Nothing you can say will change that, Diane.
Nothing you can do. I ran more and tried to plead with God that I wasnt really evil and
didnt deserve sudden death or taunting, but the voice followed me and I couldnt escape
it. I also couldnt wake up.
I ended up at a surrealistic version of where I used to live, only I didnt live with my
parents, but I paid them rent. And it wasnt really here I used to live; it was where I thought
I used to live. It was late twilight and stormy looking. Many trees had been lopped off, and
two that resembled some familiar icons (I think Captain Kangaroo and Mr. Green Jeans)
were square dancing. I called a former coworker to tell her, and all she could say was that
she hated that everyone was square dancing just because it was the in thing; only she
didnt call it square dancing, but something else that I cant remember. You dont
understand! Its Captain Kangaroo and Mr. Green Jeans! Only theyre really trees!
Meanwhile, something was wrong with my oven, and my parents were trying to figure out
the logistics of acting as landlord toward their own kid.
The voice never stopped telling me, by name, gleefully, that I was going to die,
painfully, in the next two days and that I wouldnt like it or what would happen afterward.
I tried to wake up and still couldnt, and then though that if I did wake up, it would come
true.
Ive never heard my name in a dream before.
Ive never heard a voice so palpably in a dream before.
Finally, Pudge made a lot of noise when she woke up and walked along my bare leg to
jump down, so I woke up. Scared.
25 November 1998
1:51 PM
I was living or staying at home. One day, I received a check from T. F. F. I cant
remember how much it was for, but it was for perhaps one-tenth of what Id given him. I
hadnt asked for it, and I didnt want it. I think there was a note in with it, although I dont
remember clearly. There was writing all over the check, but I remember only one phrase
Get a life. It may have also said, Leave me alone. It seemed to me that there was most
likely a hidden message that was nothing like the written one (which is usually how I feel
about the situation). I couldnt be sure and was a little torn with being upset by the
message (which had come out of the blue; I havent contacted him in months or even tried
to) and by being happy I was remembered as still existing. I wanted to respond, but

couldnt. It wouldnt make sense to. The issue is not whether I have a life, although maybe
that is part of the perceptionthat I dont.
I was fascinated by the handwriting; it was the first time I had anything tangible of his
(although Id seen his writing before). It was really beautiful, bold and sweeping. I wanted
to keep it forever. I wanted more.
Then someone told me I had to find books or textbooks for a class. I had to go out. I
couldnt make myself do anything, and there was an issue about the languageEnglish or
French. Ive forgotten most of this part, although it was strange, but it did tie in with the
first part about the check in some strange way.
I woke up very unhappy about the lack of contact and about my yearnings for it.
10 December 1998
I was on a roller coaster, in the very front, on the left-hand side facing forward. I was
not in a car, nor was it a conventional roller coaster. Instead of a single line of cars, there
were many cars in each row, and the whole contraption was indoors in a very dark place,
facing nowhere in particular. I was on the outside of the machine, looking in, as I find
roller coasters physically sickening rather than exhilarating. I was talking to someone,
waiting for the ride to begin. It would not include me, as I could just leave.
The people to whom I was speaking seemed not to understand this and were trying to
tell me something. Suddenly I felt motion; the ride was beginning. Only then did I realize
that the part I was in was a part of the ride, although a very insecure one. I had two
optionsstaying put or trying to escape. Escaping seemed too dangerous; I might be torn
apart if I went one way and the ride went the other, so I stayed where I was and tried to sit
down, although my car didnt seem like any of the othersnot at all secure.
At first, it seemed like a typical roller coaster ride, going up and down, only in the dark
rather than outdoors. I didnt like it and couldnt wait for it to be over, but it wasnt as
painful as I thought it would be.
Suddenly, I was aware that I was alone and that it was very quiet. I was going through
a door into a room or compartment, and then I realized that this ride went into various
types of places. The one I was headed into, through a small door, was dark, cold, not very
clean, and full of icechunks of ice.
What was to happen next I may never know.
(I also had had a more interesting dream the day before and meant to write at least
some key words down to jog my memory, but Ive completely forgotten it. I have to be
better about that; it was definitely more interesting.)
11 December 1998
It seemed to be home, and T. F. F. was there, although I dont think I wasat least not
permanently. I am not sure about all of that, though. He was staying in my brothers room,
and he was telling a group of peoplenot meabout how he was full of great plans and
ambitions that he was working on and that were close to or had come to fruition. This
made me either angry or frustrated; I cant tell which.
I found a box and/or a bagboth very smallI think in his room. (The ethics of this
bothered me in my dream and when I woke up). Then I approached him from behind as he
was sitting and I think touched him on the back. I showed everyone the thing(s) Id found
in his roomthe smallness of the reality of all his great dreams and aspirations. He was

deeply, deeply hurt, but it also seemed like a beginning somehow, as though it had to
happen.
The truth was out, but Im not proud of how.
12 December 1998
A friend told me she had found a great job working with numbers and actuaries that I
could do. I thought this was very strange, as neither of us likes or is good at working with
numbers, and Ive had my fill of actuaries.
I arrived where I was supposed to work; it looked like a classroom. All I remember
doing is copying numbersnot difficult, but not interesting or challenging. Then someone
made a fuss because I hadnt put parentheses around the negative numbers. I cant
remember why I hadnt, only that I had done something else and it was just as valid. I
ended up leaving.
Somehow I was in Italy. Or perhaps Id always been there; it seemed familiar, as
though maybe I had been there for some time.
Next thing I knew, a man came to me. Hed been in a boxing match and had been
badly hurt by someone who was clearly a superior boxer. He said he was taking on all
comers. Then I saw a picture of a man with something like a giant cotton swab who was
the poster child for boxers who reach beyond their capabilities and are permanently
injured as a result. I seemed undecided as to whether I should challenge the superior
boxer, so we went to observe him.
I woke up before I made a decision, and my thoughts and observations are murky.
29 December 1998 (most likely)
It should be no surprise, I suppose, that the last dream I remember from 1998 had
disturbing imagery. Perhaps its a good thing I didnt have a chance to record it, and then I
forgot most of it. T. F. F. appeared in it. And then it was a very sexual dream.
6 January 1999
I dreamed of cats and other predators again.
Ive had a dream more than once of being at home in upstate New Yorkno place
wildand looking out and seeing anything from wolves to cougars to lions to coyotes to
bears. Anything.
I lived in a trailer, and in the dream I wondered how we could survive the animals with
only the frailty of glass and metal between us and themthe frailty of a mobile home
against predators who weigh hundreds of pounds, with claws and teeth and strength.
Yet, when we went out, they were there, and they mostly ignored us. I never felt
threatened by them. It was thrilling and fascinating to have them so close by, unlike
anyone else, like being in a special, magical land unlike anyone elses, like a land of the
mind.
Today I was dreaming of T. F. F. Again. I dont remember much of itjust that things
were different.
Then I was home again, in the trailer, and the cats and other predators were there.
Now the atmosphere was different. My mother was there, inside with me, and it was dark
outside, but not night-darkthe type of otherworldly dark that happens only in my dreams
when I think the world is coming to an end. And I knew the animals were out there. I
could hear bones crunching and was frightened for the first time.

9 January 1999
I was married to someone I had known in high school who I had thought of then as
somewhat intelligent, but easily led and gulliblesomeone who could tend toward the
positive or the shadow, depending on who he was trying to impress or who he wanted to
be.
His name was K, and he had artistic ability. He was never someone I was interested
in. He never felt quite right to me, although I couldnt say exactly what I mean by that.
His family had a lot of money. I think he told us once that his fathers salary was something
like $200,000an unheard of amount for the time and place in which I grew up. I think it
must have been true, because his house seemed impressive to me when I went to a party
there.
In the dream, too, it appeared he had a lot of money and a red sports car that, at
various times, had Porsche and Rolls Royce written on the back. It kept changing. The
setting appeared to be a resort. He had played a prank on someone likely to retaliate, or
stolen from him. Im not clear about which, but at one point I think it had something to do
with a penknife.
K seemed very mischievous, almost like the literary/film stereotype of a rogue or
scamp. We had to run in fear for our lives. Typically, I couldnt keep up. Strangely, I
remember being driven in the car over things like tables where people were drinking
cocktails. I was out of the car and unable to get in quickly when the enemy showed up,
and I was always afraid of being left behind.
At one point, we swam under (murky) water that was part of a swank restaurant, and I
realized that there were alligators swimming underneath. I was afraid of them, although
they didnt seem to be particularly interested. He wasnt.
Throughout, my fear wasnt of my being caught by the man chasing us, but of Ks
being hurt by him or leaving me behind. I didnt understand why I was so attached to him,
but I was. My attachment, lack of understanding, and fears weighed me down.
10 January 1999
I went to a sporting event with DW; it seemed like something unconventional. I felt
unprepared for it or to be there. A huge, dark cloud appeared in front of us, and she said
something about a cold front moving in. I didnt have an umbrella, nor did she. The dream
looped a bit, because I saw the cloud twice and had the same sensation of needing an
umbrella.
I wonder if the sporting event involved animals because I seemed afraid of one getting
loose. Then I found a tiger cub by itself, looking lost, lonely, and sleepy. I picked it up
carefully and uncomfortably, under the front legs, and held it straight out in front of me
because it was of course trying to claw at me in the reactionary way cats do. I remember
thinking how much I wanted to hold it normally and hug it and treat it kindly, but I thought
that if I did, it would react; on the other hand, the very way I was holding it was
uncomfortable for it and would cause it, if it were otherwise tame, to swipe at me. [Im
sure I was thinking of Worf holding Datas cat Spot on Star Trek: The Next Generation.]
I think we found an adult tiger at one point and were going to ask it if the cub was
hers, but beyond that I dont know what happened. I think I wasnt sure I wanted to give it
up, snarling, claws, and all.
30 January 1999

I dont remember all that much or how it fits together. My dad was driving down a
single-lane country road that then split. He went to the right, thinking it was all one way,
but all the traffic in that new lane was oncoming, so he pulled into a field and drove
through it until the road (parallel) went through a tunnel. At that point, he tried to get back
onto the road, but how could he with the tunnel at a right angle, preventing him from
seeing if anyone was coming? It had a surreal quality.
Then I was much younger, or at least I think so, and I had a young man tied up,
unconscious, and I wanted to have my way with him. Maybe he was even who I think he
was. I couldnt, though. I think it was ethics.
(When I have PMS, my dreams seem to get more overtly sexual.)
13 March 1999
My family owned a lake on a mountain and had built a personal railroad leading up to
itit looked very strange, somewhat like a cross between a real train and a roller coaster.
It is confusing because Ive already forgotten a few details, but I and several people, who
seemed to be in family groupsI think there were even childrentried to use it and went
through some tunnels. We discovered a weird mechanism in front of us that looked like a
long-legged plane trying to use the tracks, but I didnt think it was ours. I also didnt think
thats what we looked like, although I did begin to wonder.
I didnt know where the rails led, but I had a feeling they went around the lake (as
opposed to along only one side), and it was spectacular. Just as we came out onto the
mountain and saw that it split into three directions, going around the lake, and that it was
gorgeous, we realized that troops were headed our way through the fields and forest. The
American Civil War apparently was going on. This was taking place in the South, and I had
to do something about dealing with the enemy away from the tunnels and/or the lake and
protecting the troops.
I think there was also something about baseball or a similar game.
21 March 1999
(Note: Star Trek characters appear a lot in my dreams at timesnot often, but once in a
while. I dont know whether to be embarrassed about this or not. The Spock character does
have some special meaning for me that is personal.)
The most vivid involved being on a transparent, living ship going somewhere that was
too beautiful to understand. It was as though there were something happening that was too
rich for comprehension. Maybe there was nothing literal in the dream that can be
explained; it was a mood, a feeling.
This one is just weird in a pedestrian way. As for the Native American part, I dont
know. I am reading a book by Native American women about the warpath as spiritual
path, and I have been thinking about bad events and depression as a warpath/spiritual
path, so maybe thats it..)
I watched as Indians stole the crew of the Enterprise. They killed most of them. When
they got to a character with a name, however, they took them away. I was under the
impression that, although I seemed to be only an observer, I was interceding to save them.
This made no sense to me, as I dont think I would be selective. I followed them to where
they took the captured crew members, trying to think of a way to help them escape.
I woke up for a few minutes and thought that was the end of that. But the following
seems related.

I had found T. F. F. He was angry with me and blamed me. He was accusing me of
somethingof being responsible for these things that had happened. If I hadnt slept with
(whoever it was), none of this would have happened. Yet, I was thinking, Is that who you
think your father is? Because it isnt.
3 April 1999
I should have been keeping track of my dreams; there have been a few lately that I
meant to, as they seemed interestingmore interesting than life. Todays was not
particularly interesting or memorable (given that I dont remember it very well). I was in a
building leading a gathering of Tuscarora. I dont know why or over what. Something
happened, something momentous, but now I dont remember.
8 April 1999
Ive been dreaming again; this time it was strange, even for me. I was in Aventura,
which has appeared a lot in my dreams since I started working at Classic Residence by
Hyattmaybe its the catchy name.
I was with a family that had a little boy. I dont think I was working for them or a part
of the family; I was just there. I remember walking on a beach. Maybe that comes from the
Aventura marketing photos.
A lot of time passed and the boy grew up, and I realized I was in love with him (as an
adult) and had a feeling that he might feel the same way, that he really enjoyed me and my
company. I know that that seems to happen a lotthat love grows with whomever you
spend time with. I wanted to take care of him, to love him.
It felt wonderful.
17 April 1999
I found myself participating in a church service or a play (it seemed to go between the
two). I think I was much younger. I didnt know how Id gotten involved, but I was in front
of a crowd. I worried about whether someone was there and how I appeared. I overacted
to get attention, and then felt ashamed.
Then I was in the audience, and the leader, who seemed Pope-like in power but young
and athletic in appearance, ran up and down the auditorium aisles wearing gold and
accompanied by a child, also wearing gold. I found the leader attractive but bizarre. I had
vague, undefined, yearnings.
Then I was making coffee for my dad. I forgot to do something, and he said Id let
something (grounds, maybe) through. I didnt think I had, but when I looked, there were
fish in the machine, and I didnt think anyone would want to drink coffee that fish had
been in. Then it started to trouble me a little how fish were able to live in the acidity of
coffee. Nothing about the heat of the coffee struck me until I woke up.
17 April 1999
There were animals in the field again, only this time they seemed to be mostly the type
of animal youd expect to see grazing in a fieldhorses, cows, and so forth. I heard that a
famous horse was on its way to see me, and I became panicky because I knew that
something wrong or dangerous was waiting for it. I tried to warn it away, but it came
anyway. It was white. As it approached and wasnt very far from me, I realized there were

cats right next to it, ready to follow and pounce. The whole scene had become different
than it was before. I was calm, though, because they seemed awfully smalltoo small to
attack a magnificent white stallion.
I yelled to warn him just the same, and he trotted off, nonchalantly, in the opposite
direction down the road, with the cats following him, but not quite knowing where to
begin because they were so few (two or three) and so small. Then, in the middle of the
road, in front of me, more catsslightly largerappeared, and he started to hurry more. I
dont know what happened after thatif they got him or not.
20 April 1999
It seemed to be a classroom setting, but the person next to me was a freelancer. When
we were talking about which photos to use, R. didnt like his suggestions or attitude and
got rid of him after humiliating him publicly. It was shocking, as though he had had him
killed. Maybe he did. I didnt say or do anything. I never do.
It wasnt a classroom; it was a party. People were playing a game, including two of my
friends. I thought they were playing cards, but one man was on the telephone, telling
someone that everyone was playingtall, short, men, women, in shape, out of shape. He
seemed to think that it was an amazing thing. I had the impression that they were playing
something more like basketball. Whatever it was, I couldnt playIm not very good at
cards and probably couldnt play basketball. Then I thought that everyone isnt playing
Im not.
It seemed to be a shipa wooden sailing ship with small quarters, ladders, lots of tight,
out-of-the way places and corners. Some people were there from my former employers
office in another city, checking out the bathrooms. They told me how happy they were
with these bathrooms in my city and how they suited them perfectly; they wanted to buy
them. I dont know if they wanted to take them back with them or move into them. I didnt
know why; when I looked, I thought they were dark and dirty, but at least not wet (like
public bathrooms in my dreams usually are). They were not anything I would have wanted.
23 April 1999
I was in college and had an Asian roommate named Jai. I dont remember much, but I
think it was in Florida and there was a lot of lush vegetation outside the window. It was
really dark outnot like evening, but like before a storm. Then I noticed the window was
gone, and so was my computer, as though thered been a break-in. It all felt weird and
apocalyptic. A lot of my dreams are apocalyptic in atmosphere. I have frequent dreams
about being at homewhere I grew up and was much happier, where there were woods
and a field that were lovely during the day, but frightening at nightand waking up, and
seeing something in the skya light, a face like the face of God, a strange star, a change in
dimension, something, sometimes hard to definethat means that something about the
state of things has changed and that its immutable . . . hard to explain, but very
mysterious, very subtle, very terrifying . . . and no one sees it quite like I do.
I dont think there was that much more to it, to be honest. I dont remember if anything
else happened. I even forgot how I felt except upset, but not really. I think that Jai had
more of a role, but I cant think what it was any more.
Ive been dreaming a lot lately that either my computer is stolen or a virus takes it over.
(I once dreamed that a virus took it over and it kept screaming at me like the Jack Ripper
character on the Star Trek episode Wolf in the Fold, complete with the psychedelic swirling

patterns and everything. It was a terrifying dream because it felt like it really had
happenedone of the times when I didnt know I was dreaming. The apocalyptic ones are
like that, too.)
21 May 1999
A horse ran into a stable, as though it was arriving from a race at a finish line, and fell
forward onto its chest. A fire started, and the horse was left to burn to death because it
couldnt get up. I dont know why I couldnt do anything; maybe I wasnt really there. I
remember fire on its back legs and my feeling it was already dead but that it was cruel,
immoral, and wrong to leave it there. I was very upset about it when I woke up. I wont
soon forget that imagery.
26 May 1999
At first I think I was in a room, but not in a house or an office. I wasnt wearing a shirt.
There was a man from my last job there in whom Id had some interest, but not a lot. In
this dream, I knew he hadnt been interested at all, but I could sense that something had
changed and that it had nothing to do with what I wasnt wearing. I no longer thought of
him, but he was around me a lot in this room (it must have been work of some kind), and
his interest in me was growing. I didnt particularly like it. Maybe I didnt like the reversal
in roles. Maybe I didnt like having the decision taken out of my hands. I dont know what
happened, but I didnt have any feeling one way or another, or, if I did, it seemed to be
more of an interest in what would happen if he actually did anything. He always seemed
to want to say something and, strangely, although I wanted to hear it, I kept distracting him
with something else, as though I didnt know.
Then I was in the woods in a small clearing, surrounded by trees, maybe having a
picnic or playing at something. It was a perfect day, and I wanted to stay there forever.
Two people came with lawnmowers and mowed around me. I didnt want to move, and I
kept trying to hide from them and hoping theyd go around me and go away. I dont know
what ultimately happened to them.
In reality, a friend had told me that part of the woods had been torn down for a funeral
home. In the dream, I saw only woods around me, but when I walked in that direction, I
found a beat-up, old industrial building of brick. It didnt look like a funeral home, but I got
the impression it was more like a crematorium, or at least a place through which the
bodies are disposed. It looked solid and ugly, like industrial buildings in the city, but
although I couldnt see the woods any more, I knew they were behind me, and thought it
was a strange place for such a building. Then windows appeared, and I could see a few
people at work. They were very strange lookingwearing almost Japanese theatre
[Kabuki?] like makeup, more like bodies themselves than living people. They pretty much
ignored me, except one, who appeared to be ironing, may have looked at me. Eerie in
every way.
30 May 1999
[To Virgil]: I had a bizarre dream in which you and Deemah got caught doing
something you shouldnt have been doing in a place you shouldnt have been doing it by
someone who shouldnt have caught you. I wasnt there, but I witnessed it and I think I
even tried to warn you (its a dream; impossible things happen). Then I found a building in
the woods that shouldnt have been thereit had cropped up magically, and didnt seem

to have a discernible purpose. When I got through to Amsdell Road, there were all these
huge houses that looked more like storybook palaces, of strange colors like electric blue
and covered (encased?) in crystal or glass. I guess the world was changing and I didnt
understand it. I tried to get you to go check it all out, but you wouldnt.
28 June 1999
I was fighting an energy monster as part of a series of deeds I had to accomplish (like
Hercules?). It was a little like the monster in the Darmok episode of Star Trek: The Next
Generation, where it was neither visible nor invisible. I had a phaser weapon, although it
seemed unreliable and I couldnt figure out how to trigger it. It seemed faulty, too. The
monster could sneak up on me at any time. It could be anywherebehind a door, behind
a tree, anywhereand I couldnt possibly be that alert for it and be able to use the
weapon. I gave up. It would get me no matter what I did. On one hand, it mattered. On the
other, I really didnt care.
To encounter this monster, I was in a colony or group living arrangement, not to live
but as part of this quest, when I saw T. F. F. He was lifting dumbbells, part of a conceit to
make himself feel fit, I suppose. Eventually, I managed to talk to him. He had a girlfriend
who was of course wonderful (if always in the backgroundI never saw her, nor do I think
she had a name. Nothing special.). He was now looking to become an artist or artisan in
Mexico. All that creativity. To myself, I didnt see him as being any more successful at that
than at becoming fit by making a show of lifting dumbbells every now and then.
We talked a lot. He said he didnt want to but he acted like he did. He even eventually
let me put my arm around him. I was happy and not happy at the same time. It felt wrong
again. The girlfriend, that is. I felt that he was beginning to soften toward me, but didnt
want to for the same reasonsbut couldnt help it.
We were driving to visit someone and spotted a bird that was really someone I knew
who wanted a ride, but the bird got to the bridge first after all. The atmosphere was odd
like being in a beautiful but strange country where everything feels different and
disorienting.
We were visiting this personI cant tell if it was my friend or his, and I dont even
know if it was a man or a woman, although it would make more sense if it were a
womanwhen I spotted a photo of someone Id known in college who had betrayed me.
Although her name wasnt Gross, it was in the dream. I said to the person, I didnt know
that you knew her! The person looked shocked and said they didnt. And then I got the
impression that maybe marital infidelity was involved and that they didnt know about the
photo. (How could they not? It was in plain sight.) That it was the man of the houses
photoand a secret from her. It was confusing, but I felt somehow guilty.
It was good while it lasted.
8 August 1999
I was in what seemed like a school or church setting (cafeteriainstitutional) during
what was either a celebration or a meal. A box was passed around with chocolate eggs
and ice cream. For some reason, I wanted all the chocolate that was left. I gave the rest to
the next table, which wasnt really a table, but a poor family in a very crowded living
room. The youngest girl had a doll in a chair, and people would think, They would have
more room if the doll didnt take up so much space. The doll was large and eerily human
and real looking.

Then I looked out the window and saw a large, striped orange cat lying in the grass. I
couldnt see its head. I never could commit to whether it was a tiger or not, although it was
something that I kept puzzling over.
Then I noticed a second tiger (or whatever it was). Then a bobcat. Then a male African
lion. Then one or two more male African lions, these with black manes.
Someone came along and wanted to open a window, probably to see the cats better,
but I kept saying, No, you cant do that! and, finally, What part of No, you cant do
that are you not getting? I think I even vulgarized, which I never do. That was where it
was left. She was curious and I was terrorized.
22 August 1999
I was to give a speech or something along those lines to an auditorium full of people
who been a friend or who had helped me out. Next thing I knew, I was singing Proud Mary
as a thank you song, all the while thinking: (1) Why sing a song? I cant sing. This is
humiliating. (2) Why that song? And my mind glommed onto: You dont have to
worry/Cause you have no money/People on the river are happy to give. I couldnt (and
cant) figure out where the gratitude in that is.
I saw someone typing and saw MOVIERAM spelled out on the keyboard
(MOVIERAM is the screen name of an online acquaintance from a books message
board). It was like a small epiphany, as though I should have known that and it was always
there. I was thinking of telling him now I know where his name comes from. The next time
I looked, it was just the numbers row.
I was in a boarding house where curtains were over the inside of the door (some hotels
have this, especially cutesy one with glass room doors), but this was an old,
Victorian/Edwardian place. I opened the door (going out) and then opened another door
going in, and realized this was my old room, but I didnt live here any more and why did
the person who does live here leave it open? And why did I still feel compelled to go in?
Then I closed it and left. But I still couldnt remember where I do live (in the dream, which
was not the same as where I really live).
There was more, I think, about being a student.
24 October 1999
I had gone back to college and was in what was supposed to be a dormitory room,
although it seemed somewhat better than youd expect. It was dark, as though there were a
lot of trees outside shading the room(s). It felt very closed in, but large at the same time. On
the door it said 1105, which had been the number of my first (shared) room in college,
but I was alone and not wearing anything.
I saw a squirrel in the middle of the room and wondered what I was going to do with
himwas he my pet, or had he wandered in? How was I to know which so I could know
what to do? I wondered why he was a squirrel and not a cat. When I looked again, it was a
cottontail rabbit. I didnt know what that meant. I did know that it had changed.
When I went out, I found myself in an extremely narrow hallway that led to a door
going outin other words, I was in another room somehow, in the entrance way facing
out, surrounded very close in by what seemed to be high bookshelves. It was so narrow
that I barely fit, sideways, and I also realized that the room belonged to boy(s), although
Im not sure how I knewI just felt it. Thats when I became aware that I wasnt wearing
anything and I began to panic because, even with the door, I didnt know that there was a

way out (the rationale, it being a dream, that I didnt know how Id gotten there so I didnt
trust the door to be the way back, or where it might lead. I really didnt want to be caught
naked.
There was more, but Ive forgotten it (it was interesting, as I remember).
15 April 2000
I was staying in a strange house or building. It felt both unusual and familiar. I was
taking a shower in a very unusual roomlots of dark green and nothing like a bathroom.
Very luxurious. Suddenly I realized I was not alone. A man was about to get into the
shower. He was older, graying, with a mustache. A large man. I dont know how we each
became aware of the others presence, but we talked about how odd the house and this
room were and how you could walk in and not know someone was there. I didnt mind; I
wanted him to stay.
A few days later, I went in and was standing in front of the mirror, practicing answering
the phone with my companys name (something I never do). I slowly became aware that I
was being listened to and possibly watched. I tried to hide behind a washcloth. It was the
same man. This time, he was in the shower. And he opened the curtain so we were
standing there, both naked, and he started talking to me, as though it were a normal
conversation under normal circumstances. I kept trying to find something to hide behind; I
felt extremely vulnerable and foolish. I dont know why, but I couldnt just leave. I liked
him. I dont remember anything after that. The next time I ended up in that shower, it was
like mine at home growing up, looking out into a field. I opened the window, and it was
raining. Hard.
I wanted to capture the moment. But there wasnt much to capture.
19 September 2000
I was outdoors in the woods at what seemed like a large, sunny campground. It was
obviously populated, but deserted, as though only the shadows of people lived there. I
found out that T. F. F. is getting married. It seemed like a big event. Even though I never
saw another person in the dream, I knew that everyone was talking about it, that everyone
was going to the wedding, and that I was on the outside. I was aware of all this without
seeing anyone or being told anything. I was aware of what was going on, but I wasnt part
of it. Everyone was happy about it. Everyone except me. I spent a lot of time agonizing
over what I should do. Should I go? Should I at least find out who she was, what she looks
like, whether I would like her? I wanted to very badly, but I also wanted to pretend it
wasnt happening and that it didnt matter. I felt so lost and alone and torn. And most of all
I wanted to see him again, to see his eyes, his hair, his face . . . when I woke up, I still had
not decided which path would be the least painful. I realized how much I wanted to see
him again, to know how he is, to know what hes doing, to think that we could be friends
again.
21 October 2000
I was living or staying somewhere where I slept outside on a blanket or rug. A garage
or building with dogs inside was behind me. A driveway was in front of me, and at least
three-quarters of the way around were trees. The setting felt surreal, and I sensed urban
ugliness beyond the unreality of the tall trees.

Something about the ground underneath me felt odd, like it was too soft and unstable.
When I rolled over I realized that there was an edge to it and that beyond the edge was an
abyss (although the trees I could see beyond were on my level). I could not notice this
abyss when I looked forward toward the driveway; it was evident only when I looked to
the side and down. I was on what seemed like an artificial extension of land that could fall
at any time, and I was stuck therethere was no place else to go. Trapped. The dogs came
out and began jumping all over me and where I was lying, making it shake and shudder
even more. The end felt like it was near, yet, although I tried to make them go away or
stop, I didnt fear it so much as simply wish to avoid the unknowable.
Later, I had a dream where I met with Stu at a picnic table; he introduced me to a
friend that I had been going to meet, but somehow we already knew each other. There was
more to the odd feeling behind this experience, but I dont remember it.
24 February 2001
I was in a play, probably in high school. No detailsno name of the play or character.
What I was supposed to wear was onstage in a closet. I kept trying to get to it, but timing it
so the play hadnt already started when I did. The play was to start with someone I knew in
high school (in Drama Club) named Joe making an entrance that was key to the plays
success. If I interfered with it, all was over. I succeeded in getting to this closet once or
twice, but later I think something happened and I ended up the focus of all attention at the
wrong time. I also realized that once I was on stage I would not be able to use the
bathroom for many hours. At one point, I was torn between making the dash for the
wardrobe or for the bathroom. I opted for the bathroom, which turned out to be in a huge
high schoolish gymnasium complex. I got into a stall, looked to my right, and discovered
that, although all the fronts of the stalls were covered, the sides were not. I could see every
stall and every person (although I wasnt quite sure there was anyone else). I was caught in
a moment of indecision about whether to go and risk being seenalways a big question
for me in these situations. Im more likely to risk it in a dream, where my body isnt quite
as bad as in reality. Still, the last I remember, I was leaning toward not risking it and risking
the pain of holding it.
15 March 2001
I was reading a newsgroup about a common interest that I was sure T. F. F. would have
abandoned by now. And the first thing I saw was a thread saying, Where is T. F. F.? with
a lot of posts. It took me a while, but I finally opened themand they were all blank.
This is perpetual issue with me. I could find out about him, but I cant bring myself to
look. On the other hand, it hurts (almost physically) not to. So Im always on a painful
fence of wanting and not wanting to know.
27 May 2001
A large craft looked like a theater, but it was on water. I dont know who was piloting
it, but at a certain point I had to. I had no knowledge, and I was all the way in the back
with no way to see forward. I had to figure out how to get to the front and how to see. It
was all darkeverything, the sky, the water, the bridges that the vessel was going over.
The auditorium itself. Piloting blind. I am not sure now what happenedI wrote this too
late, but I remember ending up in cold, dark water. The cold Sargasso Sea of another

dream, perhaps. The flavor of it all was surreal. I knew it wasnt real, but that the situation
still remained desperate.
29 May 2001
I wanted to cut myself. Someone was there. And I would think I had done so, but when
I looked, I had not. I tried, for myself and someone else. I couldnt. And the others wanted
me to. I would end up on the ground, in a cold, dark, out-of-world place, crying, crying,
unable to stop, unable to articulate, to vocalize. Unspeakable misery. And when I woke
up, I looked at my wrists. No cuts. Clean. And was disappointed at what I had known I
would find.
30 May 2001
This morning, everything was vague, but Im sure I was with my mother. Not my real
mother, but a person who represented Mom. Another person was there, I think. Mom
had a little boy for whom she had bought something very sweet, very special, very
wonderful. It made me sad for some reason. I wanted it and didnt want it at the same time.
It seemed, too, that it was soft and possibly made of chocolate, because at some point I
accidentally mashed its face, and I felt really bad. I probably cried, but there was nothing
to do. And no one was paying attention to me, anyway.
There was more, but I dont remember. I remember a feeling of being alone and empty
and insignificant, while everything and everyone else took on greater meaning than me. I
woke up feeling hopeless and eventually cried.
31 May 2001
This is going to sound pretty garbled, but I was dead set on doing a perfect impression
of Andy Griffith and Don Knotts. And then going back to people from high school and
impressing them with the ability. I couldnt find the one person I most wanted to impress,
however. Ever elusive. Just as well.
9 June 2001
I was on the verge of a sensual experience that never happened, as is typical of my
dreamsalways a sense of being on the border, and then of disappointment, and then of it
being repeated. Somehow, I would end up in a yard between a building and an
outbuilding that was significant. Over and over again. And now I cant remember what
was there that was so important in the dream that I was drawn to it.
22 June 2001
One dream or two? I cant tell.
In one (or one part), I was in high school, probably after hours, looking for something
to eatthe school seemed to have delis and things like that. After a long while, I came to a
classroom where I was not welcome. I dont remember anything being explicitly said, just
a feeling of being unwelcome to the point where it might be dangerous for me to stay. I
couldnt find out what the subject was and couldnt ask, and I tried discreetly but couldnt
really look around for The Boy. I also got the impression there were more of these classes
going on and that I (especially meit was personal) wasnt meant to know about them. I
dont know what upset me morebeing excluded because of my math/science phobias

and lack of ability, or seeing almost everyone I thought of as my intellectual equal in the
room doing something that they didnt want me to know about. I wanted to know if The
Boy was part of it; it hurt to think that everyone thought so little of me and that he knew
that it was the consensus.
In the other part, I knew a man who seemed very nice, very average and pleasant and
friendly. Suddenly, he was married to S. I dont think there were many details after that
about how I interrelated with them until one day, whilst traveling on a train with them, I
realized I couldnt let him be deceived any more. I said something about her to him,
although I dont know what. Im sure I questioned her intelligence in some wayI dont
know if I was forthright in my mockery of it or if I just dropped some comments. Instantly,
he became vitriolic and dragged me off the train at a station, where he abused me. I told
him I should be allowed to get my luggage before the train moved on (he had power over
that). She was oblivious to everything, although I tried to drop some of the words she didnt
know to jog her memory about all the things shed said she didnt know. She looked blank.
They had a German shepherd who adored me, and I had a very tearful farewell with him.
Then, while that was going on, a child fell and hurt himself badly; I think he may have
been theirs. I helped to determine if anything was broken and gave him basic first aid, but
that did not impress my now former friend. Although I woke up and do not know how it
was going to end, I knew it was sadly. I related it to the first dream (or part) because both
made me feel hopeless and desperate (why did each of these two menthe first real, the
second, just a figure in a dreaminspire me with these feelings of wanting to have them in
some way or another and the feeling of deep loss?). I also realized I was treating S.
somewhat the same way Id been treatedas someone who was not very intelligent.
26 June 2001
I wrote a letter to someone, I think Stuart, on the inside of a small bottle, like a nail
polish or makeup bottle, and then thought, That was sillyhow is he going to be able to
read it? And as I got closer to waking, I thought, Forget how is he going to read it? How
did I write it? In my dreams I do magical things.
Also, I lived somewhere else. Looking out the window, I saw a common-looking bird
on a bush and was disappointed that it wasnt something more interesting, more wild. As I
thought this, it turned into a ruby-throated hummingbird. I realized there were now several
of them on the bush. I tried to open the window, but something was funny about how it
worked, and I couldnt. I had the impression that the scene had changed to a vista.
14 July 2001
This seems to have become a recurring dream, where I am at home and there is a fire
in the woods behind us. I can feel it getting closer and closer, and then I see it and smell it.
No one else seems concerned, and I am devastated that it wont be stopped before it
destroys everything I cherish.
18 August 2001
I was having lunch with the only female member of Donegal Rain. I noticed her in a
hotel lobby or somewhere that was on an upper floor and invited her to a restaurant. We
and everyone else in the roomgot on an elevator that turned out to be the whole room,
but the doors never closed, so people got on and off while it was moving.

Everyone questioned who this person was. Dont you recognize her? Shes the only
female member of Donegal Rain! Somebody finally invited us to their house for a party
because I told them they had no idea how hard it is for a woman to be the only female in
an all-male group like Donegal Rain.
A plate glass window next to where I was sitting led to shrubbery. State employees
came in to do some work and startled out of hiding some prairie chickens (that really
looked like Asian crested wood partridges, but I knew and everyone knew they were
prairie chickens.) I was thrilled, as Ive never seen a prairie chicken in my life, and I was
about to point them out to Ms. Donegal Rain, but then one of the workers stomped on
two of them. I went running and told him I couldnt believe a state employee would kill
two members of an endangered species, but his cohorts reassured me he was just being an
example to the crowds passing of what not to do. I said Id report him anyway as this made
no sense to me.
I didnt want Ms. Donegal Rain thinking she could kill prairie chickens, I guess.
1 September 2001
Part of this dream involved riding around endlessly throughout rural countryside on a
school bus, picking up (or dropping off?) children. It struck me that there is no end to the
amount of land, houses, and kids in the U.S. This part of the dream probably stems from
my experience in high school. I lived closest to the school, but the drivers were not
allowed to drop me off first because I would have had to cross Rte. 20, which was pretty
busy. So, every day after school, whether I took the regular bus or the later one for kids
who stayed after for sports or clubs, I spent up to an hour getting a scenic tour of the whole
school district, just to get to my home that was 10 minutes from the school. At the time, I
didnt mind because I liked to see where people lived and what the lakefront was like and
the neighborhoods with the physicians/attorneys, and the more rural parts, too.
Im not sure how that ties to this part, but I also dreamed that my one English friend
had come to visit me and that I had introduced him to my coworkers, especially the other
copywriter. We were supposed to go somewhere (a play?), but the coworkers wanted to
take him for a drink, and he desperately wanted to go instead. I wasnt hurt, but I didnt
want him to go because I didnt want him to be with those guysmaybe I was afraid of
what theyd say about me. I dont know what I was thinking. The next thing I knew, Id
attacked himI was giving him the longest, deepest, most passionate kiss imaginable
while holding him fast and sinking. I remember being overcome with passion and desire,
and then everything going dark before I woke up.
16 October 2001
Today I dreamed about T. F. F. again. (Around September 30, I had dreamed Id met
him again, and he had a daughter named Glenna.)
I had this dream in the middle of the night and remembered it clearly this morning.
Now, after a day of work, I dont remember most of it. He was thinner and oldernot sure
if that was just a little older, or older as in middle-aged. His attitude was different, although
I dont remember how or what he said or did. He was somewhat more successful than I
would have thought possible.
In both dreams, perhaps he was indifferent. Is that what I secretly wish for?
26 November 2001

I waited too long to write about this and have forgotten some of the more interesting
details.
I was attending or performing in a Wagner opera (a comedy?); it could have been in
either German or Englishall things being possible in dreams. A part of the dream was
about a warning and looking at a photo album with windows. A mobile home turns into a
house, and a family grows, but I cant remember the plot or if it was my family. Finally,
we are speaking of Sonny and Cher, and it comes out that, in his 20s, Virgil had a thing
with Cherand this made me terribly angry with him.
30 December 2001
The early parts of the dream faded before I woke up, but they had to do with being at a
Silly Wizard performance and there being some unusual information on the tables that I
didnt understand or believe.
I met a young man named Joseph Anthony Diaz, but cant remember how. He said,
before he left, Remember me when the police come back with me. Im not guilty. I said I
would.
Something was wrong where we had to build a watercourse to divert water. My mother
didnt like the way hed done it. I thought she meant my father, but she meant my
brother because my father had passed away long ago, only I didnt seem to know it. I
dont like the way it goes here and here and then out in front, she said. It was built around
a tree in our home, and meandered all over the place like a babbling brook, with still pools
and wooded overhangs.
I didnt like that they had let my no-longer-young cat out and that she blended in with
the woods. I found her just as she discovered the neighbors yard. It was too late by the
time shed found the neighbors muted patchwork cat. I saw her wrap herself around a
limb to try to camouflage herself. It didnt work.
True to his warning, a police officer came by with Joseph Anthony Diaz. I said hi to
him, and the officer made small talk, although he seemed quite angry with Joseph. When I
remembered he was supposed to ask me questions about Josephs identity/innocence, they
were both gone.
In the evening, someone said, Look out for the prothonotary warblerstheyve been
observed performing their exchange ritual. I had no idea what I was looking for or any
real hope of seeing, but just then we saw some birds that I assumed to be them. The person
whod noted this was excited, but right behind them was a massive eagle. Its got one!
No, its got them all! the other person said. For some reason, I was heartbroken that I
wasnt going to see the prothonotaries do whatever it is they were supposed to be doing.
I followed the eagle into a neighbors yard, thinking I could force it to drop its prey. But
there wasnt just one eagle; there were three or four, all walking on the ground. I ran at
them individually; one did release a male cardinal. Another finally released a green bird I
didnt recognize, but it was labeled prothonotary.
I ran at another bird, but it turned out to be one standing full height in a 1950s
housewifes dress. Dont think you can chase me off like the others, she said in an
imposing tone.
There are many missing details, but mostly I had a feeling of forgetting to do
something, not doing something right, and disorientation.
3 March 2002

I was in another country, or at least it seemed to be another country, but I dont
remember any active participation in the dreamit was more like watching a movie. A
person I thought might be famous was performing a frontal lobotomy on some hapless
man. It involved sticking a clear tube into his head and looked terribly barbaric.
I could see the patient overnight, and he was suffering from some bizarre complication.
He started to swell badly. It apparently caused him a great deal of pain. He didnt say
anything, but I knew he had decided to get revenge on the person (not clear even that he
was a physician) who had performed the surgery for leaving him overnight without anyone
to check on his condition. He seemed to feel a burning need for out-of-proportion, burning
revenge.
His wife or a woman (nurse?) appeared in the morning. By then the swelling was more
or less gone, but he was still bent on revenge. I couldnt tell when, where, or what form it
would take. I was afraid it would be violent and bloody. I didnt want to see it and tried to
close my eyes, but I could still see everything. Every time something happened, like the
doctor opening a car door, I thought, This is it and braced. At one point, he was on the
Tonight Show with Johnny Carson, with his chair pulled offstage and behind the curtain,
and I thought, This has to be it. But it wasnt. Not even sure that it wasnt Carson who
was pulled off.
This went on for what felt like forever, and I kept trying to wake up or redirect my
thoughts, but couldnt.
A second dream: This one involved a woman (which could have been me) driving a
bus that was way behind schedule backward. This was because shed been too busy
making up for lost time that she was backing up (through quite a lot of terrain) to a
restroom down the street, which made the handful of last passengers of the day scream.
Im not sure it was me, though, because it seemed to me I was trying to explain how bad
the crowding on the bus had been because of the problems, but nobody quite believed
me.
I was in a rural farm area (I think the bus was, too), and there was this odd thinga
silo-type thing that must have been miniature but at the same time wasnt that one dipped
into to get some especially good mustard, or maybe it was mayonnaise. Someone showed
me and told me it was courtesy of someone and was very popular in the region. I could
never figure out how to do it, and every time I tried to do it, Id just find hair or something
weird. It had the aura of magic, however.
Im not sure how this figures in, but the wife of an old man celebrating his anniversary
ripped the buttons off his orange shirt to prove he had hot sex (knowing that everyone
would be skeptical or laugh), only, being very elderly and distracted, they never actually
got around to it.
16 March 2002
This morning, I had an odd erotic dream. (Not surprising.) I was at the house of
someone who shall remain nameless (and I hope I remember who when I read this again,
because its not the usual suspect(s)). It was in a beautiful areaby the water in that unreal,
bright way I can picture in my mind but not articulate and that I dream about seeing from
our kitchen window in Hamburg looking west (where there were woods and the highway,
but where the horizon could look oddly like water). I remember spending a lot of time
doing friendly kinds of things indoors and then going outside and being both happy and
content (two different things).

The odd thing was that I was wearing very little and, as the dream went on, they
became different clothes, and there were fewer and fewer of them. I felt something I never
feel in real lifevery desirable, very sexy. He must have felt it, because there was a lot of
tension, which was becoming unbearable when I woke up.
17 March 2002
I was in one of my favorite dream places, a subterranean cavern with boats and a
handful of people that seemed like a crowd in them.
The water/areas were divided into quadrants, and the empty boats were all submerged
to some degree. But this didnt give me any concern as to their ability to float. I got into
one and paddled around. I also walked through some water, which was oddly green. I had
a feeling that came from somewhere that it was magical in some way. Someone gave me
quite a lecture on not stepping into one quadrant of water, then stepping into another. This
would be very bad. I defended myself and said I hadnt, even though I hadnt known.
Although this seemed at first to be a confined area, in a dreamlike way it expanded,
and I came upon a cave filled with all kinds of showman-like stuff, including guitars. I
started to count them, but there would always be one I missed. They were guitars that
belonged to famous rock bands. An old, white-haired, bearded man who made me think of
Burl Ives said if I counted them right I could have one. I never did get the count right, but
he gave me one anyway. It did not look or feel anything like a guitarthe strings werent
metal, but a clear nylon-like ribbon. Skeptically, and knowing that I dont know anything
about playing guitar, I started playingand out came a perfectly rendered Crocodile
Rock. I sat in the boat and played.
I came to an overpass or archway, and there was a young Elton John himself. I felt
guilty to have his guitar (yes, I know hes a piano man) and to be playing his song, but he
just waved in good cheer and continued to perform. I really wanted to meet him and talk
further but I woke up.
31 March 2002
This was a sweet dream, for I was out in the country. There was time before dinner for
a bicycle ride, so I found myself riding endlessly along gentle hills and curves under the
gray skies and softly falling rain of a late western New York evening. I seemed to go on
forever, until it was time to turn back so as not to be late for dinner. I ran across someone
with a long, wide strip of leathersome device that made perfect sensethat was a relic
from World War II. I did not make it to dinner before waking up. For all I know, I am still
riding, riding, riding through the sprinkles.
31 March 2002
An afternoon dream during a nap meant to make up for last nights lack of sleep during
the bout of burning pain . . . I dont remember the details; Im not sure that there were
really that many, but it felt surreal in some way. I was in a plane or helicopter with my
brother, who was piloting. We were flying low over sparkling ocean water on a bright,
sunny day, looking into the surface for something, something, something . . . In my
dreams, the world is a more wonderful place filled with surreal marvels, and I have
opportunities for adventure.
7April 2002

I didnt know where I was, but Id been forced to move my belongings into four
drawers of a row of filing cabinets. The vice chairman of the company was at another set,
and P., the assistant from C&L, was at a third. They were finding places to stash their
cigarettes (they dont smoke). I went outside to smoke the one I had (I dont smoke, either).
It was a woodsy place that I associated with my cousin. I saw a lot of dogs, including some
that belonged to him and to his neighbors and one that was a wolf/collie mix. Some of the
bigger ones were carrying the little ones in their mouths.
When I returned, the assistant was moving her stuff neatly into the top half of my filing
cabinet. When I asked why, I got a long, incoherent answer. I took that as a sign it was
time for me to go, even though I didnt realize I was allowed to.
My young friend B. drove me to the airport, with his mother in the back. The road was
wide, and bushy tree limbs encroached into our side. He was driving too fast, and when I
told him that and that he was crossing the line, it made him more nervous and more prone
to do so. I said this to his mother, which made it even worse. She didnt say anything,
though, and I learned to shut up. After a mile or two, too much to go back, I realized Id
left my glasses on the filing cabinet. They couldnt send them to me FedEx because this
was a Saturday, so I was going to have to go for at least two days virtually blind.
Mystery: How could I see lines or tree branches without glasses?
Afternoon: I was in a van that is backing up in a yard that goes steeply downhill into
some dense deciduous and coniferous trees. I didnt know who was driving. Then my
worst fear happenedwe backed up too far and started heading down toward the trees
helplessly, unable to stop the backward/downward momentum. But it all happened so
slowly that there was no injury or damage. It was dark under the trees.
Later, I was part of a carnival-like exhibition that required participating in a ride. I was
nervous about it but managed to go through it, although I dont remember anything about
it except that it was a little like car racing, with people watching.
And I discovered sexual release at the end.
16 April 2002
I was in one of those houses that I always dream aboutinfinitely large, no end to the
rooms, no end to the size. There was a lot of white. It was always night; maybe the white
were the lights turned on.
I woke up, and before my eyes The Master had transported to me a sand or clay
objecta sand-colored base with a flat white heart and an erect white penis of the same
material. After a while, the penis melted down. I could picture him smiling ambiguously.
I was in an odd sort of shop, with everything from books to toys. Dark, cramped, tiny. I
had a combination of American and possibly Canadian(?) (colorful) money, and I was
returning something (a piece of clothing?) and buying something. Someone kept handing
or pointing out a childrens book to me. I couldnt figure out how to pay the owner
because of the different kinds of money and because I was thinking by item.
He saw me and wanted to give me a presenta toy. He was looking mostly at water
pistols and couldnt find anything suitable; he wanted to give me a really good one. He
took a long time and was muttering eccentrically. Someone behind me tapped me on the
shoulder and said something like, Excuse me, but how long do you think hes going to
take?
As long as necessary.
20 April 2002

I was in an exhibition building that was dark and seemed old, and walked into a room
where a giant fish (possibly more than one) was swimming around in what appeared to be
a bowl. It seemed cruel at first that such a large, chunky fish had to live in such a tiny
space, but then we noticed that it could swim through a tube into another area (like in a
hamster cage). We suddenly realized that we were actually under the water and were
literally immersed in its area. Just as we were trying to figure out how we were able to
breathe (air pockets?) and why we didnt feel wet, the fish went running past me on its legs
(!) and sneakered feet (!) and somehow got into the hallway (even though I could see no
barriers to either it or the water). It lay gasping for air and shaking from cold, so I picked it
up and brought it back. It seemed to take a long time, and it grew weaker and weaker.
When I set it down on the bottom, it fell over, and I could feel spine-like fins where
something had been cut from the top of its head. Just then, my glove fell off. I reached for
it, but the fish bit me. Every time I tried to recover the glove, the fish, which could move,
attacked me. My glove still lies there, protected by a chunky fish.
27 April 2002
Unfortunately, there was a lot of action in this that I dont remember; I remember only
this bit and how it made me feel.
I was in one of my infinitely rambling dream houses playing a parlor or game show
type of game. Im not sure how it worked, but I (or someone) would remember or think of
a feature or attribute, and a face would come out of the wall based on what we said. It
didnt seem to be a benevolent spirit. It was silent, and its eyes were closed. It could have
been a figure on a medieval church.
28 April 2002
I was at the home of a VIP when it suddenly hit me that she had Alzheimers in her
early 40s. It explained everything and was like an epiphany.
A wooden stand had four or five levels and things on each level, including a television.
The whole thing was shrink wrapped in plastic, and it was important for me to take the
plastic off. I did, but everything started to fall down, and I couldnt juggle it all.
I was trying to get somewhere along highways but had no vehicle, and it was dark and
raining. I tried to find out where to catch a bus (in this, a place where buses seemed
unlikely) and found out mysteriously (how could I find out, stranded in the middle of
nowhere?) that the bus stopped in front of a bar with Moose in the name. The bar I had
just stepped out of, which was more like a house.
I was flying with someone in a plane when it became apparent that the nose wouldnt
lift and it would have to land somewhere, so it landed in the parking lot that it just
happened to be over.
It all was steeped in a strange, eerie, murky, otherworldly atmosphere. Rambling,
unrelated, and unreal.
15 June 2002
The urge to urinate brings out the strangest dreams. (This one with a recurring theme
that of being unable to climb or access the thing most desired or needed.)
I was living in an odd, rambling communal house. I remember only one of the other
inhabitantsK., with whom I can not imagine sharing anything (K. is someone with whom
I have nothing in common). There were others, Im sure, perhaps his girlfriends.

A room on the middle floor was pleasantly musty, as though all the best remembrances
of childhood were stored there. I found it as though it were a discovery. I could not get into
it when I wanted to, or at least it seemed like that.
All of the bedrooms (and the only bath) were on a high floor and were set into what
was essentially a cliff. A sheer drop down several stories fell to nothingness. To get to these
rooms, including the bath (which was last), you had to climb and cross on narrow black
piping that kept corkscrewing around. It was treacherous, but seemingly I did it with ease
several times, without thought, fear, or hesitation.
I climbed a rickety ladder to another room that had once been mine. A flyer for an
Amison announced that it had gone out of business. It seemed to have something to do
with personalities or psychology, but I could not remember what or when I had used them.
Despite the ambiguity, I sharply regretted their loss. Oh, when did that happen?
I kept having to negotiate the ladder. There were pieces missing that made it
dangerous; it was the type of thing that appeared in the media. Why would this be
allowed? At the end of the ladder was entertainmentmusic one time, comedy another, a
beauty contest another. The women were helping each other squish their prodigious
breasts into their bathing suits.
Finally, I realized I had to urinate. Badly. I tried repeatedly to climb the winding
corkscrew and to go across to the last room, but couldnt. Fear. K. was in that part of the
house; he may not have been alone. It was becoming increasingly painful. I tried to force
myself. I could not do it. I remembered I must have done it hundreds or even thousands of
timesbut not this time. I tried to think of alternatives that would not be disgusting. I went
to the floor and room immediately below (even though there had been nothing there but a
cliff earlier) and found a basin. R-e-l-i-e-f. Ah. There was more in the basin than I thought
there would be. But soon I noticed I didnt feel any relief at all. I still had to go. Then I
realized that I was sleeping and would have to rouse myself and get up.
24 July 2002
I was in what seemed to be a class which could have been a seminar. Although I
seemed to be a kid along with some others, some of the people were adults. It was the last
day before summer or a break, and I had a date that I was looking forward to with N.,
the son of one of my dads distant relatives. He was also in the class. I had to walk around
the room and intended to give him a quick hello and to confirm plans, but I didnt see him.
I ended up having an odd conversation with an older coworker and some others, none of
whom knew about the relationshipor him. There was another young man there to whom
I made a promise, but I didnt know why since it would have conflicted.
I was walking through a long, green garden in the middle of nowhere with an older
woman, whose vegetables were doing well except one that had a particular kind of blight.
She didnt know what kind the vegetable was. I picked one up, looked, and told her. It was
supposed to be summer but all I saw were the colors of autumn. I thought that my mind
was playing tricks upon me. She offered to take home. By then I was getting panicky
because I had not seen N. and realized that I did not have his phone number. I
suspected that I did not know his name or even have a clear idea of what he looked like. I
also could not remember my arrangements with the young man in my class. I knew I had
to get to one of them. I was afraid of being in a car accident and ruining both situations,
but when I saw her pickup truck, I felt reassured.
Then we headed off and drove along a lake, only the road was narrow and right up
against the lake, and water was flowing across it. It reminded me of the dream in which

Im on a very narrow road that goes through a body of water, and the vehicle is in constant
danger of ending up forever in the brink. Its a weird but interesting feeling and makes me
homesick, as though I once experienced this.
30 July 2002
I was at what may have been a costume party and noticed a man. He seemed
mysterious or supernatural in some wayhis looks, his manner, and his costume (which
kept changing?). He seemed interested in me, although I am not sure he talked to me
much. I heard him say that he was leaving and going south to Garfield. Even though it was
slightly out of my way, I jumped at this, and he agreed, although there continued to be
something odd in his manner. But he seemed to want my company.
I had to go to the bathroom really badly, but the place was like a school or other
institution, and the bathrooms were terrible. I found myself sitting on a bench in pain,
trickling onto the floor. So I found a bathroom where the paint was peeling everywhere
(including on the seats), where many of the bowls were dry, and where it wasnt clear who
the people wandering about were or what their gender was. I found relief and went toward
the front door, where I sat on a bench to wait.
A high school acquaintance saw me there. I thought, She is going to find me
surprising and the person Im with even more so. She was very bubbly over me, to my
surprise, and couldnt get over how much better looking I was than I used to be. She asked
with some surprise, Are you pregnant? In her eyes, that would account for it. I wondered
if I was, if that was part of the mysterious power of the stranger. I thought how amazed she
would be when she saw him. He appeared, in the guise of a pirate/swashbuckler, across
the room, and stared at me (and my newfound good looks). It was an electric moment.
And then I woke up.
7 August 2002
I am off sick today, so I slept and dreamed. As so often, it was about where I live. Not
about where I actually live, but about where I live in the dream. It is rarely if ever a
conventional dream home, perfect, spacious, clean, etc.; it is usually unusual or
impossible.
It was a courtyard building, like this one, but I lived on the top floor. The world of the
dream was restricted to this place. There was nowhere else. I was hesitant to walk near the
windows for fear of being seen, or maybe it was fear of falling out. There was activity in
the courtyard, and it seemed as though someone suddenly cared about the building. They
were paying attention to it, and perhaps there would even be improvements. It seemed that
suddenly this was the way it always had been, but it wasnt. There were going to be
concerts in the courtyard. There would be a big celebrity. It was exciting. How I knew this
was not clear.
I saw ropes and poles and wondered what was going over my window. Banners were
hoisted over it, and I wondered if they would cover the windows. They disappeared
upward and dont. I walked out on what I must have thought of as a porch even though it
was merely a smooth, steely incline, and looked up. The banners were maroon, but I
couldnt read them. A crowd was gathering below. It was all happening in compressed
time.
While the crowd gathered below and chairs were set up for them, I suddenly realized
that my beau was there. He wanted to cook, but there was no place to do so. He sneaked

off and returned with something hot. He had discovered a stove in a porch nook with a
working burner. He brought back another couple. The woman was unusual. And then
something happens.
31 August 2002
I dont remember anything else but seeing a series of multi-legged creatures carrying
objects like leaves that they always resembled closely. In one case, I reached out to knock
one off a mans foreheadunsuccessfully. He had to do it himself. It skittered away across
the floor.
2 September 2002
I was at a camp, although the people (friends? family? strangers?) were staying in an old
house. Outside, I kept finding large wildcats everywhere. I tried to fend one off with
something I was carrying. It followed me into the house, where there was another one.
In my mind, it was a holiday, and I heard water that I shouldnt have. There wasnt just
a drip from the ceiling; water was pouring down. I hesitated to call because of the holiday.
My uncle died, and the funeral or service must have been outdoors. An envelope
looked familiar, as though I had seen another one like it at the funeral of someone closer to
me than my uncle. It seemed to me that it was my responsibility to open it. I did and asked
my other aunt (not the widow) if it was from her. She nodded, Yes. I dont know what
happened to it.
Suddenly my boyfriend (a dream one) announced that he felt a sudden need to see
Robert and was going to see Robert. (I say Robert like this because in the dream it
never occurred to me that Robert is a mans name or that he was leaving me for a man; I
think we both acted like Robert was a woman, a former girlfriend. Where the name
Robert comes from escapes me.) I asked him if that meant that he was just suddenly
leaving me in the middle of my uncles funeral for no better reason than an urge to see
someone hed had a failed relationship with. Yes. He had no problems with me, but he
wanted to go back to Robert.
I walked off toward the trees, crying and deciding never to get involved again.
25 September 2002
I woke up at 3:30 a.m., not feeling well. I finally tried to go to sleepand dreamed.
I seemed to be visiting a friend, although the longer the dream went on, the more it
appeared that I lived there as a roommate. It felt strange, and I felt out of place. The place
was huge and cavernous and seemed more like rock than wood.
There were a lot of people around, mostly young women, getting ready to go out. I
decided my bed wasnt where it belonged and moved it to an out-of-the-way nook, along
with some coat racks on wheels. By the time the bed arrived at its destination, it had
shrunk from a full-size to a twin.
I had to go somewhere, like everyone else, but didnt know where or when. I didnt
know how far behind I was in getting ready. I also had no idea what my friend/roommate
looked like. I couldnt find him anyway, and I was very curious. I thought he might be
avoiding me. I spotted him once or twice, but wasnt sure because he was a little different
than how I had pictured him. When his face was at rest, he seemed very sad; when he
smiled, he glowed with happiness. He always seemed to be out of reach and mostly out of
sight, and the more I glimpsed the more I wanted to talk to him.

I finally ended up going to a market or fair with a distinguished older man. He bought a
sandwich, but they threw it at him in a hurry, and all it consisted of was a slice of bread,
mayonnaise, and a tomato. He got two more slices from somewhere else.
No more returning to the friend in the dream.
19 October 2002
I was walking down a dark, narrow hallway and saw, to the side, a tableau of a
strangely dressed man and woman that seemed disturbing, like something in a funhouse.
The woman was holding a dolls or doll-sized head that looked oddly like her own on a
pike, and the scene seemed to represent some historical event or people. I continued and
encountered a woman with curly dark hair. I was about to utter some pleasantry when I
realized she looked very much like the woman (and dolls head) in the tableau. I became
terrified as though something of dreadful significance was happening.
I woke up and, even though the room was warm, I felt as cold as dry ice.
30 October 2002
I was having a meal with a group of people. We were listening to music (for some
reason, I am thinking it was Dont Stop Thinking about Tomorrow), and I was singing
snatches of the song. I was impressed that I sounded good, given how bad my voice is and
how badly I sing. Suddenly, someone said, I wish you wouldnt sing all the time. I
pointed out that I wasnt singing all the time, just snatches, and someone else backed me
up in this. But then I woke upsobbing. Depressed, betrayed, like I had hit bottom. I
could not take in how awful life had become.
That will teach me to sing at dinner . . .
31 October 2002
I am not sure of the chronology of the following, although I think the bus was first and
the book was last.
I was sitting on the outside half of a seat on the bus when a young man got on. He
began to tout his cause (unfortunately, I dont remember what it was, but it was something
unusual that interested me). I moved over to let him sit down and encouraged him to talk
about this cause with others since he seemed somewhat shy. He became engrossed in a
conversation with the young men across the way. Then I heard him say that the big
weapon in his campaign was PLASTIC! He opened his briefcase to reveal plastic
envelopes. This upset me as an environmental hazard, so I wouldnt listen to him any
more.
I went back to my apartment, which had a long kitchen, and wanted to peek out the
window but it was high and I was afraid of knocking the curtains off and not being able to
get them back on the rod. Something about the bathroom was out of order, so I found
myself at a restaurant that was in a nearby apartment. Two stools had a glass case in
between. The fixtures in the bathroom looked like gadgets, but the room itself was not very
clean. I went back to the glass case to see if the person on the other side could hear me
was it really meant for two people together? She could. It appeared the case kept their ice
cream cold while they ate, but I wondered why the people wouldnt be cold as well.
Somebody was designing something for the restaurant, and this reminded me of how I
am feeling. I wouldnt say anything about it. In a conversation held during a trip I suddenly
was in the middle of, I told a key person how I really felt about my last evaluation and the

entire process. She kept talking about, Do you want this? Do you want that? And here I
was, talking about what I want and not being heard again.
I found that I was on a barge on a river or lake along with the young man with the
plastic. I was retrieving something bad for the water in lumps, something like coal. He said
I couldnt do it because it was too much, and each was too massive. But the lumps got
progressively smaller until it was clear Id gotten them all.
I was in the kitchen and trying unsuccessfully to reach the window again. I realized the
book in my hand was called something that really only one person would have used, and
as I read it I recognized it as a book he was writing. I thought about calling him to tell him
hed been stolen from but for some reason found this to be absurd and too difficult to do.
I woke up feeling thwarted.
3 November 2002
I was on a bus with strangers. At least one of them was from another country, probably
in Eastern Europe. He was blond and had straight hair. I ended up somehow naked in his
arms and loved it. An odd feeling of refreshing cool air on my bare skinyet I didnt seem
to mind that it was in a public place. It made it even more interesting. Just touching.
The blond European could have been one of my friends roommates; he seemed to
have several, and they were everywhere. They all seemed a little interested in me. I went
to my friend and told him I was ready to sleep with him, but he had to use protection.
Because the apartment was so crowded, I knew there was a likelihood of being caught,
but this only added interest.
We found the condoms, but they were oddclear plastic that didnt go on all the way
and that just had a tab that went over the tip. Meanwhile, people kept walking in and out,
but I didnt mind that they saw me nude. I rather enjoyed the spectacle I must have been
making of myself. The fear of repercussions meant, however, that nothing ultimately
happened.
Even in my dreams, I worry.
8 November 2002
I had a long, elaborate dream, but dont remember much. I do remember being in a
surreal department store but not what made it surreal or what it is I wanted, other than
lunch. The time seemed to be more in the past than in the presentperhaps mid-century. I
also vaguely recall something about being followed by a man and his wife, and the man
following me out of the building.
I escaped into a maze of interconnected apartment buildings and into a home that
appeared to be that of a writer or journalist. I sat down at his typewriter and tried to write
something that made sense and was accurate because I had a sense that nothing that was
written ever was. I felt that I was about to be caughtthe man was still pursuing meso I
left through the back and discovered myself in a surreal maze of homes with back yards all
crammed together and fenced in oddlyat a height. There were numerous dead ends and
seemingly nowhere to go, yet I managed to get away.
Two narrow escapes in the same dream. From what?
9 November 2002

I had a weird erotic dream this morning that felt like it lasted forever. As detailed as the
dream was, I dont remember any of those details. It was erotic in mood (mine), but not so
much in content.
I went back to my hometown church with my friend, and it felt different. I led a class,
but there was something about it that was causing problemsI didnt know what to teach,
no one was listening, the materials were missing, or something. We ended up on a farm,
where I couldnt get something to happen that I wanted to show him or I couldnt find
something. Meanwhile, I wanted something but didnt know how to ask for it or get it, or
perhaps it just wasnt available.
My dreams often seem to end up in frustration and failure.
16 November 2002
I was at a party or movie hosted by the chairman of the company and found myself
often in a huge room with colorful patterned walls in the back behind which was a
similarly designed, not particularly well-kept bathroom I kept finding myself in. You
couldnt see the door once you were in there, and I discovered a back door that led to a
bus stop where I could catch a bus that would take me directly home.
I also saw a movie that appeared to be about one or two accomplished inventors, but
toward the end, after the setup had been to make you feel good about them, it is revealed
they invented a bomb, chemical, or other device that was horribly destructive. I would see
a human face being peeled apart over and over again, almost like an onion, and would
keep escaping into the odd bathroom and wondering if I could find the back door again to
catch a bus.
I also dreamed of being in a big, old, meandering house and of finding a photo of my
three aunts together, only it struck me as odd that they all had white or gray hair. I showed
it to someone in the family, and he said, Theyre all in the living room. But two of them
are gone. At least I am certain one is . . . Yet there they were, just like in the photo, all
with white or gray hair. I felt that something was wrong.

20 November 2002
I was perched behind a rickety old wooden house that was next to a river, although I
dont remember any land, just lots of water everywhere. Two planes came flying low over
the river and suddenly wrapped themselves around the drainpipe of the house. I wondered
how I would rescue the pilots. Somehow, they disappeared, but a third plane wrapped
itself around the same drainpipe. I managed to get the pilot out of that one but dont
remember how, only that it was quite a puzzle to open the plane and get him out without
his falling into the water below. He may have been bigger than the plane and I think he
was retrieved upside down. Whatever happened, it was quite remarkable, and the sun
shone in an eerie way over all.
28 November 2002
I had a dream in which I was apparently married or associated with a man wealthy
enough to go where he pleased when he pleased and who owned beautiful, hilly
woodland in the Appalachians, the type of woodland that is deep, mysterious, dark, and
inescapable. The man was an enigma to me. I remember being in love with him and
wanting him, but always he seemed to be somewhere else. It was as though I wanted

something that didnt exist (him) and was trying to find the unattainable (untainted
wilderness). The deeper into the woods I went, the more marvelous they became. I could
have held that feeling forever.
I wish I could have written the details down first thing. It was a wonderful sensation.
10 December 2002
I arrived in Paris, although I dont remember going there, and looked into my suitcase.
There were no toiletries. I realized it was a small weekend case.
The bathroom was in several levels, which made it interesting enough to make me
wish mine were like that.
I attended a forum or class with several other people, where nothing was resolved. I
walked around during the discussion and discovered Scott was lying face down on a
desk. I suggested adjournment, and the French leader concurred. An old woman in the
back began speaking in French. Her vocabulary and grammar were impressive, but her
accent was terrible.
At home or in the room (not sure if there was before or after or even part of another
scenario), a bee was buzzing around that my friend and I sprayed. It moved afterwards,
stuck on a book, but it appeared to be quite dead. But days later to our surprise and horror
it was flying around. It landed on me, and my friend sprayed it until I realized that I didnt
want to be covered with chemicals. The bee lived on.
14 December 2002
Elton John was performing with a partner that turned out to be a skeleton. A hand used
a computer tool to erase one of the skeletons lines.
Afterwards, I left the building, which seemed to be a church. Everyone else was
leaving, tooin tiny boats. I didnt remember coming in by boat, but I found a red one
with plain oars that seemed familiar. Someone tried to give me a white one with white oars
decorated with flowers, but we realized the mistake and quickly exchanged back. Most
people were sitting around in their tiny boats, doing nothing, I spotted a small channel
between two boats, aggressively cleared it, and left. I got to the end of the course and
realized the water had gotten very shallow that I could walk beyond the buildings
grounds. Later, I returned and encountered one of my aunts, who did something
unspeakable to me. Something else odd happened, maybe involving a fish.
Then I was in a certain town, in a store, when I spotted a certain person. I said hello,
and to my surprise he somewhat grudgingly answered. I followed him to the front of the
store where there were two girls who seemed very young. I took the older one to be his
girlfriend. She seemed familiar. Her name was Robin, and she was very bright and
outgoing, like a happy young girl.
A closed circuit, a half loop, was made of curled wire like the curled barbed wire at
prisons. His spirit and that of someone else were at each end. It was an experiment of
some kind and started out benignly enough. But soon the other spirit grew very hot and
came around and burned him. It would burn him and retreat to the other end of the half
loop. I did something, perhaps with the boat that I still carried, that forced it to do it for
shorter and shorter durations so that it would not be as painful for as long.
4 January 2003

I was living in a huge apartment with three or four other girls. One of them, I later
realized after mentioning my former roommate, was one of her friends. I said something
about the former roommate being Chinese, but then I looked at her friend and remember
that they, the roommate and the friend, were Vietnamese.
I was lost in the apartment. I didnt know where the bathroom(s) was, and I didnt
know where I was staying. It was a huge, old maze of a place. I found an unmade bed that
had a centipede on it. I found another centipede. I caught them but couldnt kill them.
Every time I went out the door to dispose of them.
Every time I returned through the door, I found little teal and white pieces of paper that
I didnt pay much attention to. I did something with them, but Im not sure that I threw
them out. I wouldnt be able to find them later. After a few trips I discovered that we were
really living in a hotel, and they were meal tickets. I confessed to my mother, who had
suddenly appeared, that Id gotten rid of the meal tickets.
I was there to complete my last year of college, only it suddenly occurred to me that I
already had and that there was no need for me to be there. I wondered how I planned to
pay for it and realized that I didnt have a job, I didnt have a grant, I didnt have a
scholarship; I had only my savings and investments, and I didnt want to spend those. In a
panic, I noticed that I didnt have a computer or even a typewriter, a camera, or a few
other possessions that would be vital to a college student.
I discussed with a knowledgeable friend what I should be getting a degree in (possibly
a graduate degree at this point), and we dismissed Catholicism, but agreed that the history
of the Church or of science might suit me. I was somewhat aware that this was a dream
and didnt know why Id be dreaming again about a year of college that is unnecessary.
I found myself sitting next to a man I was attracted to and discovered that he was my
boyfriend. We appeared to be at a parade or possibly a game. He was in some pain,
having strained something that had not quite healed. It hit me that I wanted to marry this
man and that I couldnt because he was my cousin. But then I debated with myself
whether it would be all right if there werent any children, and the only real obstacle I
could come up with is that it might cause strife in the family. Meanwhile, I avoided his
eyes by gazing into his beard.
When I woke up, I wondered how I worked so much improbability and anxiety into
one dream. Even the man, who in appearance is a real person that I recognized, is not a
cousin, but an acquaintance of no relation.
And my B.A. is framed.
29 January 2003
I was in a large suite of rooms furnished in an old-fashioned manner. A lodge-type
room had a burning fireplace in the middle, with other cold fireplaces throughout the
place. I thought I was in college and had to go to class, so I tried to take a shower, only I
turned on the hot water as though for a bath. It came out so quickly it filled the tub before I
could turn on the cold. I touched something, and all the water drained out as quickly as it
had poured inwithin a second or two. Then I saw blood dripping from the ceiling, but it
stopped. I tried filling the tub again, but the blood started pouring into and mixing with the
water. I thought I had better report this to the front desk.
I went back to the part that I thought was my suite to find my roommate. There were at
least four bedsone very large, the rest smaller. I wondered why there were so many beds
and how we were supposed to decide who sleeps where. She gave me an enigmatic
answer about the suite in general. By then, I couldnt remember what classes I was going

to or why, and I noticed that I hadnt packed my vacuum cleaner. I soon got lost within the
suite, which suddenly seemed deserted. I wanted to find the front desk, so I opened a door
to remember the suite number, only I wasnt sure that it was the door to my part of the
overall layout. The number on the door was a long mixture of numbers and letters that I
couldnt possibly remember, and outside the door everything looked like as confusing a
maze as inside, where the fireplaces seemed important.
I was confused and didnt know what to do and probably didnt do anything.
6 February 2003
I found myself in a huge room with all of the partners of a worldwide accounting firm.
They were not gathered for an annual meeting, but to learn about the annual meeting. The
person who was to lead this session did not appear, so for some reason I took it upon
myself to lead. They knew I did not belong, and my questions, which I tried to make
corporate speak, for example, big picture, etc., were too specific. One man started
speaking, but his answer was too garbled to understand. Hes in assisted living, someone
pointed out confidentially. When the topic of newsletters somehow came up, someone
else who shouldnt have known announced that all the newsletters were being combined
into onethus spoiling what was going to be a surprise announcement.
I went into a large, dark (shadowed), snow-filled room where I knew there was a train I
wanted to be on. I climbed into a cab, not through a side door, but through a front-opening
door. Or I tried to, but the cab was filled with snow. Suddenly, I heard one or two
snowplows approaching through the barns big entry doors. There I was, where I knew I
wasnt supposed to be, unable to get into the cab and unable to close the door because of
the snow inside. I stepped out in the dimness to meet the plow and then I was worried
because the center of the room was a hill with a narrow road around it (what happened to
the train?), and by not being in the train, I risked being hit by the plow unless I could
scramble up the steepness of the hill out of reach of the wide plow in the narrow road.
13 February 2003
I went to the 47th Street exit of Lake Shore Drive, even though I thought it wasnt safe,
and it was the most beautiful, sunny wooded area you could imagineidyllic. It didnt feel
safe, so I walked south, away from it. Then I decided it was worth it, so I turned around to
return, but it was suddenly dark as dusk among the trees. I could sense that the mood
would change if I didnt go back.
I was in an underground menagerie or circus holding area with all kinds of weird
creatures in primitive bamboo cages. At first, I felt safe because I assumed no one would
put animals into cages from which they could escape. Then a tiger or something similar
walked out of one toward me. Then another animal. I turned down a row of cages, and
every door opened, and a colorful ape-like creature (pink, green, blue, purple, etc.),
stepped out and started following me slowly and ominously. I turned down another row
with the same results. Panic.
18 March 2003
On Sunday, March 16, I attended a candlelight vigil for peace at Montgomery Place. It
involved singing.

I was at an event. I dont remember details, other than that it may have been outdoors
in a rural place. I was reluctant to join in the singing, as in life, but did. I could hear myself
singing beautifully. Clear, bell-like, on-key tones. It felt miraculous.
After it was over, a certain redheaded childhood acquaintance who Id noticed strolled
over and told me something to the effect of I should never participate in group singing
again, that I was just awful.
And in my dream I felt the same way about him.
I woke up sad and hurt.
11 June 2003
An unspecified friend and I were riding motorcycles down Lake Shore Drive when I
noticed that we were surrounded by petroleum trucks. I thought, If theres a spark . . .
Suddenly, one of the trucks jackknifed and ended up facing the wrong way. I saw a spark
to the left in the middle of all the trucks, and I was desperate to get away. Then a crazed
young man (also on a motorcycle?) with a bundle pulled out a razor blade and was able to
hold everyone hostage so that we would be part of the impending inferno. In the middle of
this, a former coworker (C. M.) appeared and lectured me about the failure of a chef and a
recipe that had something to do with me.
I somehow escaped, finding that Lake Shore Drive was now more of a hallway than a
road toward the end, where I live. My door opened off it, and was already open when I
arrived. I hoped my friend was in there, but in my mind I knew it was the crazy young man
with the bundle and razor. I tried to figure out a self-defense strategy. I noticed that,
mysteriously, things were appearing that were from my parents wedding/early marriage.
These things are there but not quite there. I wondered where they had been stored because
there were so many of them. Then I realized that I was scared of being cut by the man who
was waiting for me, but I became aware that I didnt want to wake up because I wanted to
prolong the scuffle.
19 June 2003
I went to Washington, D.C./Maryland with a coworker, then to New York City. After I
arrived in NYC, I realized that I hadnt visited someone in D.C. I normally would have
seen, and this upset me because I didnt remember whyif I had forgotten him, or if hed
ignored me. Once in NYC, the coworker and I (and possibly a third person) boarded a
train. It went past our senior living community at one point, but all I could see were
futuristic parking garages. Everyone else could see it, though, so it wasnt visible only to
me.
On the way back, the train leapt into the air, while my coworker laughed. Apparently,
instead of going across a bridge at this point, the train normally jumped up, crossed the
span, and landed on the other side (perfectly aligned on the tracks). My coworker knew
this beforehand and was amused by my terror. Unfortunately, the train must have veered in
mid-air because it didnt seem to be going right somehow, and I saw a man on the other
side indicating to the engineer that he should aim left. The train finally landed, but I
couldnt tell if all the cars had made it.
I got out, and a man bumped into me. I discovered that my purse, which had been
tucked under the jacket or sweater I was wearing and therefore should have been secure,
was gone. I started panicking and crying, thinking that my ID and credit cards were gone,
while the coworker laughed himself red in the face at my distress. I was contemplating

calling 911 on my cell phone, but thought that they wouldnt care, either. I felt something
in my back, and a voice said, This could be a finger, or it could be a knife. Do you want
to risk it? I said, almost angrily, All I have left is a cell phone, and since I dont think I
want to call 911 you can have it!
I woke up reluctantly.
7 July 2003
I was talking about a somewhat philosophical topic in a classroom setting; it may have
been about good. The instructor shot down everything I said easily, leaving me feeling
quite stupid. A friend of my brothers spoke up very intelligentlyso intelligently that I
couldnt understand what he was saying even though everyone else could. He argued
everything Id said. I wondered, What is wrong with me that I am so stupid lately? I also
kept seeing this man, whose nickname as it appeared in print was Platoon Leader, and
my brother as football teammates.
I woke up wondering if I have become stupid through spending too much time alone
(by choice).
10 July 2003
I came home and found straw hats with colorful bands and bandannas and things like
that on my bedroom windowsill, along with a sense that children had just been there. It
was disturbing because I could think of no way they could get in or out, since its a 12th
floor apartment and the only way in is past the front desk or the security cameras in the
back. Yet this happened several times. I think I heard laughter once, and spotted some
boys at one point.
After another incident in which I had apparently just missed the kids (they were always
ahead of me, but by less and less), I finally determined to do something about it, although
nothing was ever missing or stolen, and I was also afraid of retaliation. I couldnt decide
whether to call or to visit the manager. After a long internal debate, I went to see her, but
she was in a meeting. I was talking with the front-desk person, and she had decided that I
would need new keys, which meant everyone would need new keys. Meanwhile, through
the magic of dreaming, I could see the kids in my windows, looking down and laughing,
and I knew theyd always be there.
8 August 2003
I woke up and, from my bed, looked out the two bedroom windows, which had
merged into one depending on how I focused my eyes. It appeared that there was water
out there. A lot of water. I went out and found myself swimming. Something was wrapped
around me, binding me. The water was not too cold, but I worried about how clean it was.
I turned a corner and realized that I was about to go over a waterfall, created by a steep
terrace (90) covered with water. It was terrifying but I survived. I got to the end of the
floodanother terrace over which no water was flowing, but which was still wet. There
was a vehicle parked there, and people were at the bottom pointing up at me. Then I was
in the vehicle as they moved toward me, presumably to rescue me. The vehicle was caught
in water behind it and slid back and was soon part of the torrent, with me still in it. But it
appeared that the flood was drying suddenly and quickly. Then all went blank.
9 September 2003

Two dreams.
In the first, I was in a room with metallic bleachers being held hostage along with
others. A flammable foam was sprayed everywhere, and I said that if we could blow off the
foam wed be safe. The next thing I knew, I was on a large boat . . . and suddenly realized
that I had sought safety with the culprits. I jumped overboard. They heard the splash and
turned the clunky boat around to pursue me. The river, it seemed, was underground and
split into many tunnels, so I turned down several to lose them. Just as I came to a beach, I
heard the motor behind me. They had found me! I woke up, exhausted and breathing fast.
I was watching an insect on the grass. It got too close to a large, hairy spider, and even
though I knew there would be a death struggle, I did nothing to stop it. The spider, which
was really a stuffed animal, came to life when the insect, also a stuffed animal, touched it.
Suddenly, though, I could see neither one. I searched everywhere, and realized I had lost
two toys.
16 October 2003
I fell asleep around 11:00 p.m. and almost immediately experienced a sensation of
being held from behind in a very erotic, pleasant way. I did not know by whom; while it
was tangible, it did not seem real. After a while, it became less pleasant and more
crushing. It then became sexual assault. A woman found me and was going to run out the
door for help, but there was no one there to apprehend. This happened three times, with
increasing force, violence, and terror; by the third time, it did not begin erotically.
I heard a loud noise and woke up at 11:44 p.m. (it was Hodge attacking his bed and
dragging it around). I was panting, and my heart was racing. I could feel the effects of
adrenaline. It took a while to calm down because the dream was so vivid. I understand
how, in more superstitious times, the idea of the incubus and succubus arose.
24 January 2004
I was a queen, probably Guinevere, and felt desirable for a while and that all the
knights were watching me. There was a party at which all the gimmicks were in excess and
caused damage; the beautiful pool overflows. I realized that I was middle-aged and puffy
and had no appeal other than the title of queen. I felt tired and sad about this, even though
I sensed it was a dream.
26 January 2004
(Although this does not describe my typical bus route accurately, elements of it are
familiar. The narrow strip of road over the lake is a common theme in my dreams,
although generally until now it has been associated with Lake Erie and home.)
I was on the bus going home when the driver missed the turnoff, but I didnt realize it
at first. We were on a narrow, curvy, twisty, pier-like bridge turning around to go back
when all of us realized that we were no longer on the bridgewe must have gone straight
and missed a curveand that we were suspended for a second above the water, cartoon-
like, just long enough to realize our fate.
We plunged into the water, which was cold. I was trying to slide a window open
sideways, knowing that I would never fit through it. I found myself shouting, Do not
panic! Just open the windows! This kept everyone from panicking. I opened the
windowthe water was up to my waistand more water poured in, but I found my head
above water and in a very short time, just as I felt that I was about to go under, I was face

to bumper with a car in a parking garage. I looked up to see the female driver, who looked
scared and perplexed. We both had a moment of confusion, but then she rescued me
somehow. I had a sensation of being the only survivor.
26 February 2004
I dont know the order in which this happened, or if it was one dream or two.
I was in an urban apartment, with skyscrapers all around, before first light. It was
peaceful outside. There were a handful of people in the apartment, only one of whom I
remember. We were watching a somewhat violent sci-fi movie when we heard a
mechanical noise, like that of aircraft. We saw black witch-like figures flying by the
window. At first, I was sure they were a contrivance pulled by airplanes, but that made no
sense because of the density of the skyscrapers. We realized that teeny versions had
infiltrated the apartment and were flying or fluttering around.
My cell phone chirped. It was a man who should not have my cell phone number
unless hed gone out of his way to find it. Id dealt with him last week, and I thought that
was the end of it. He called twice, trying to get me to listen to his ideas, etc. I felt like I was
being stalked.
Suddenly a girl from the movie on TV materialized in the apartment, lying on the floor
dead. Someone in the group reached over and rubbed some of the blood on her sweater
on me, and I knew I was cursed.
I was trying to escape a mansion or a hotel, but like a celebrity, crowds were trying to
get to me. A companion and I snuck out a side door, which led to more and more doors.
Finally we came upon our car, but there was a motorcycle there, too. I asked him if he
could drive it since no one would think to look for us on a motorcycle. He said yes. I had
visions of falling and sliding on asphalt and my legs being instantly flayed.
29 February 2004
I was in a surrealistic and futuristic house or building, lots of white and black like
something one might have seen on the monochrome The Avengers. I must have been on a
rescue mission. There were a lot of dead ends and crawl spaces that would change size,
and I never knew from one moment to the next whether I would fit through them. At any
moment they could have sealed me in front and back, and the thought made me panicky
especially since it seemed at several points I was lost in a maze. I passed a cavernous area
from which a voice said, There are seven. Then it said later, There are nine, but only
seven have voices. It seemed to be both helping and confounding me.
20 April 2004
I woke up at 4:10 a.m. feeling like a profound failure and also feeling profoundly
lonely and alone. (Probably why so many suicides happen then). Feeling like there isnt
one consolation for the things that dont go well or arent good.
I had a half-waking dream about being a man, chucking it all, and going on a walking
adventure with another guy. We came to a teeny bar/restaurant run by someone we
wanted to be Robin Hood, but although he was kind, he was rough and had a Brooklyn
accent. I had silverware but put it back because I wasnt sure where it was supposed to
come from. Everything was dark and wooden, but the bit outside in the back was light as
though it were a gorgeous day out and like what I really wanted was elusively out there.
When the owner turned around, he had waist-long, thick, wavy, golden hair that made it

look like he was an incredibly beautiful woman, and I thought what I always thinkhow
disappointing it must be to people when they learn the truth.
I suddenly realized that we were not carrying anythingno backpacks or clothes,
nothing. We truly had chucked it all.
20 July 2004
I had two odd and gruesome dreams. The second I dont remember well; a motorcycle
or bicycle accident was spread over a dark highway for a distance. Someone, maybe me,
tried to put out a red light in the profound darkness to prevent being hit again by someone
else coming along.
The first, thoughtwo living corpses were in a desert, desperately trying to reach and
touch each other. They were living corpses because one was whole but covered in gallons
of its own blood and gore. The other was missing its head, neck and upper chest, and yet it
was still crawling along, trying to reach the other. It looked as though they stopped moving
just short of touching. I woke up.
16 September 2004
I was on a field trip, almost a camping trip, with my coworkers. They decided to
recognize my bosss birthday by putting an insert into the employee newsletter. I found out
that they were using nude cartoons on this insert, including one of a woman astride a giant
(sea?) turtle on its back. I tried to tell them this was not a good idea, either the insert itself
(because my boss would not want to have an employee newsletter used to highlight her
and because the nude cartoons would embarrass her). They told me it would be fun. I
happened to see the VP of HR, and she wasnt amused, but she didnt know what to do.
I needed surgery, so I was lying in a camp bed nude with the top part of my chest
showing from under the covers. Everyone seemed to know I was going to be wheeled off
except the young mailroom guy. He took a look at my bit of exposed chest, crawled into
the narrow bed with me, and was about to try to wrap his arms around me while making
oh noises, but I tried to tell him I was to have surgery.
I was eating a turkey sandwich with the rest of the group (although its not clear how I
was dressed because when the nurse came to get me, I had nothing on). I put half a
sandwich down, and the one guy tried to eat it as though he hadnt seen me. I pointed out
to him he might not want to eat something Id been eating.
When the nurse arrived, I realized too late that I shouldnt have eaten. She gave me a
gown, but wouldnt help me tie it (it was too small, anyway), so it was half open no matter
what I did. She also tried to stick an IV into my nerve, even though I told her what
happened before.
She took me to see the ENT, who saw my exposed hip, felt the bone, and told me Im
thick through there, and I thought, What does that have to do with otolaryngology?
and But its mostly bone?
I woke up feeling my hip to see if its really as thick as he said.
26 September 2004
I was the divorced mother of a beautiful little girl, who I took to what I thought was my
old school, although it didnt look like it. I spent the day there, too, in a basement room.
Whenever I came back from a break, there was cheering for me because someone had

announced that I was divorced and had a daughter there (somewhere; I couldnt remember
where). The other mothers thought that this was a great, brave thing.
At the end of the day, I saw a long line of women and stood in it, thinking it was to
pick up either ones purse or child, but after spending time in it I noticed that it was for the
bathroom.
I wandered until I found a basement room with piles and piles of purses, a few similar
to mine, but the instructor said I couldnt bother her or the class until after it was over. By
then, I was wondering how we were to get home without purses.
While I was waiting for her class to be over, I went to another bathroom where all the
toilets were broken. I found one that I could manage with mostly and put Man O War to
shame. Some womencoaches or cleaning people?brushed by me or pushed me like I
wasnt there or didnt matter.
I went back and found a few remaining purses, but none was mine. I still could not
remember where it or my daughter was, although her reality had faded by now. I
wondered what was going to become of me.
I woke up lost.
4 December 2004
I was a snowman and found a slope near a running brook, where I lay down to die. I
heard a waterfall downstream, where I knew it was even warmer. I did not want to go
there; I did not want to feel myself die. I disappeared slowly down the hill into the
streamso slowly that it was beyond my ability to feel and comprehend.
6 December 2004
I was bitten repeatedly by a huge snake. I couldnt control its head, no matter what I
did. I took it somewhere to be identified, and it turned out to be a non-venomous royal
python. Does this mean that Im feeling oppressed by the ruling classes?
25 December 2004
I was running toward a great red brick edifice that I knew was a concentration camp. I
was not sure whether it was voluntary or involuntarywhether I was choosing to go or
whether I was being driven.
Suddenly, a manhole in the ground appeared before me, and I was being beckoned to
escape into a dark unknown.
I was afraid because I didnt know if I was being tricked and trapped. What if I didnt fit
and got stuck in the tunnel? What if I were shut in to suffocate in darkness? What if there
were worms everywhere?
I didnt trust the beckoning. My inclination was to choose the edificeequally
unknown, and possibly behind the beckoning. It appeared to be above ground and not as
stifling, although I couldnt be sure.
I pulled my hand out of the hole and found a rice-like speck on it. It was a worm. I ran
toward the edifice.
* * * * *
I went with a friend to a tearoom. No one was there except guests, so we went to one
of the private rooms with two ornate, overstuffed, red, patterned chairs with a matching
ottoman between. Everything was enormous, and the entire place looked like a bawdy

house. I didnt understand why as all we wanted was tea, and it seemed overdone for such
a simple want.
We heard someone and went to tell her which room we were in. She told us that
everything was taken, made us leave, and told us never to come back, although I wasnt
not sure why (whether everything was always taken, whether we were never going to be
allowed in, or whether we had committed such a serious breach in protocol that we could
never return). I was confused and humiliated.
7 January 2005
Components of this mornings dream:

A magical three-dimensional paper toy like a theatre stage that was tragically lost,
never to be found

A thick green caterpillar that had to be destroyed

A smaller caterpillar that also had to go (both squished and flushed)

Christmas at my cousins, whose house was massive and had an indoor lawn

His oldest daughter, who had a video of rows and rows of stuffed and yarn/rag
animals at her home singing and dancing in exquisite precision. A male human
chorus came in from the left

A second magical toy that couldnt be found

A wet cat that left a lake on the rug

An Association of Zoo and Aquarium Docents conference with a delegate from as
far away as Idaho

The senior VP of operations from my company (unrelated to AZAD) surprised that a
delegate came from Idaho

A gull that appeared creepily looked in the window curiously with a surprised
expression

Im sick, but dont have a fever.
9 January 2005
Elements of this mornings dream:

Small, old shopping center, but the central building that a store had just moved into
had been inexplicably torn down, leaving a vista from a weird human spa/pet store
and white marks in the pavement of the parking lot

Church service where a tall, long-haired, attractive man in a suit was looking for
place to sit; I hoped that when I sat, he would choose the place near me

He showed no signs of noticing me

I suddenly realized that Im nude and that I really had to go to the bathroom

I finally found a locker-room type bathroom and began urinating into a cistern as
though this is natural; suddenly, I realized that I was peeing through my penis . . .

A male coworker walked in, looking distraught. I was confusedwould he wonder
why I, a woman, had a penis and was nude, or would he wonder why I, with a
penis, was in the womens room? He didnt notice anything; he asked me worriedly
if Id seen his girlfriend because he was supposed to meet her so they could go to
his parents house for a celebration of something. I hadnt, so I tell him

I wandered back into the church, still looking furtively for the attractive, gregarious,
funny, long-haired man
2 March 2005
I was in my high school, but it was very bright and modern, with lots of green glass.
In a glass exhibit of gorillas, three of the larger (in descending order) were threatening a
younger, smaller one. No one seemed to notice.
Keepers or volunteers told me that a docent was complaining about something,
perhaps having to work, and the visitors were complaining about the docent. They
expected me to do something about it. I didnt know what.
I took a look, but I couldnt see her nametag. It looked like _ssian. I didnt know any
_ssian. I couldnt find the day captain, but I recognized Marie from Sunday even though
this wasnt Sunday. She didnt know who the day captain was, either. She thought that the
complaining docents name was Ossian.
There were two or three docents on the other side of me. They didnt recognize me and
moved their chairs away. Even when Marie talked to me, they seemed only partly
reassured.
I know Marie! I said.
I looked for a bathroom. The school was very different than I remembered, green glass
everywhere, very sunny. All the bathrooms were filthy, though. There was a public door to
them, then an elegant wooden door that looked like it was for just one private bathroom. It
opened onto several very dirty stalls where the floors were covered with water and filth.
Disturbingly, one was smeared with blood everywhere.
I went to a pool area, where I didnt know whether I should tell the man I saw about
the blood. What if it was from a murder and he had done it?
There was a group of men, none of whom I could trust because I didnt know if there
had been a murder or if any of them had done it. Then the idea that they all knew about
the bloody murder hit me, and they struck me as sinister and seemed to be slowly closing
in to find out what I knew. I never mentioned the blood.
I tried to pee on the floor, and a woman asked why. She mentioned an old rock star
and his album and autograph.

I went outside. It was very green and sunny beyond the green glass.
8 March 2005
An inarticulate man was in the park where I lived in a little wooden building. I had
belongings in two drawers labeled I and II. Some children came along and went through
the drawers. I complained to the mother, who said they should be able to do what they
want. I took jewelry out of her drawer to make a point, but she was unfazed.
The kids came running back in, horrified that I was going through their mothers
jewelry.
I see that the drawers, which were now like hard drives, were labeled Imine and II
everyone else.
I was on the road and spotted someone with a broken-down car. I called AT&T
Wireless. People started to tell me it was not where I thought it was (I thought Amsdell
Road in Hamburg, New York). At some point I recognized my mother, who was wearing
new glasses.
I was going to a concert, which seemed far off. It wasnt at the lake I thought it was but
at one in Connecticut. I was driving down a narrow street with other people behind me in
a caravan. We were trying not to brush the parked cars. Two at the far end were sticking
too far out to get around, and there was no other way to this magical lake. I got out, picked
them up, and moved them to a corner, mostly out of the way.
The mysterious lake beckoned.
15 March 2005
I was head of security of what appeared to be a building on a university campus full of
top-secret documents. At the end of the day, there was no way to tell whether papers were
walking out with students and others. I realized one person did walk out with papers. I
looked around and pursued him into the black of midnight (although it had been 5 oclock
only moments ago), and everyone knew that he was wanted. I suddenly realized that I had
no weapon, no gun, and that anything I was supposed to be guarding should have been
secured, that people should have been searched on the way out, etc.
I went home and was playing some odd game with food with one of my children. It
started to rain. It started to pour through the ceiling. I realized that my home was part of a
restaurant, but when I walked around outside I couldnt find it; I saw the restaurant
furniture and people (dry), but I couldnt find where my home began. I thought that I
would have to fix the roof before I could sell it.
I was trying to take a photo with a film camera of two friends for an annual. They were
the last holdouts. I took a photo, but I always took two in case one didnt work. They kept
fooling around, playing with each others hair, mugging, etc. I got more and more
frustrated and annoyed with them, but they wouldnt stop.
A massive carriage came along and ran them down, but miraculously they were
untouchedthe (draft) horses and carriage somehow went over them without touching
them. It happened again. Other things came along They continued to fool around. I got
depressed thinking how, sometime soon, I wouldnt be able to get film developedit
would become obsolete.
I was in a dark, underground bar trying to figure out where to go. A man came down
the steps and tossed a long sword and another weapon (pike? lance?) onto the steps. I
wondered why someone would leave weapons lying around like that. Someone else did

something similar. I thought it was dangerous. Soon, two different men who had picked up
the weapons had a mock fight. They were swinging wildly and laughing, but I knew they
were going to hurt themselves accidentally.
A powerboat came out of nowhere and sped through a glassless window onto grass
outside. There was weird dancing. The world seemed insane. No one could explain it.
Later, I confirmed that no English knight would allow girls to dance around during such
a serious fight, but a French knight would. Something like this happened during the mock
fight, at which of course they did hurt or kill each other, I heard.
The word of the day is flummox. Lately words have occurred to me in the early hours
and stuck with me until I wake up.

Main Entry: 1flummox
Variant(s): also flummix or flummux \flmks, -mks\
Function: verb
Inflected Form(s): -ed/-ing/-es
Etymology: origin unknown
transitive verb : to throw into perplexity : embarrass greatly : CONFOUND, DISCONCERT
intransitive verb : to fail or give up : COLLAPSE <his scheme flummoxed and left him high
and dry>
10 April 2005
I was with my family (not my real one), and it suddenly occurred to me that the little
girl was me. I told my mother that she and I couldnt be in the same place at the same
time, that something was wrong. My dream mother didnt understand what I meant. I
didnt know exactly what was wrong, only that we couldnt exist in the same place at the
same time. The little girl realized that I was onto her, and fleshy appendages started
coming out of her head, including one that was penis-like. For a moment, you could tell
there were aliens or beings in there that had taken over and that were mocking and
threatening us.
She took off. I followed her into what must have been a shopping center. A handsome,
friendly blonde man was singing the phrase, How do we know? in front of me. I sang it
back in a deep voice. He kept repeating it, and Id repeat it, each time at a slightly higher
pitch. But he kept getting further away, although I wanted to catch up to him since he
seemed to know something.
I was on an escalator that first raced up at an incredible speed, then down. I wondered
if I was in a movie and had been filmed at regular speed, then it was made to appear fast. I
tried pointing this out to someone. They didnt seem to understand anything Id said.
The blonde man was gone. So was the little girl.
29 August 2005
I was pregnant and my belly was enormous, but no one could tell. When I lifted my
top, it was covered with sores. Someone told me that was normal and they would go away.
I was at a high school reunion, which was a pool party. I was sitting with someone
whod been a tormentor but who was now fascinated by my chest. He was also twitchy, so
I made a comment that he must be trying to quit smoking. He was annoyed that he was so
easily read.

A man next to us had kids who were using the pool/very tiny water slide; there seemed
to be dozens of them of all ages. I think I thought he had a crush on me, but he didnt
notice me.
I had to pee but the only bathrooms were on the other side. I was at the deep end and
couldnt walk or swim across, plus the ledge around was narrow. A corner wall
overhanging had no hand holds, and I would never be able to get around it. I
contemplated peeing in a hidden corner. This segued into the water being unusually high
and the weather stormy, as though this were a lake. I kept thinking, But the lake is
unusually low.
I also thought I would be accepted on the other side. But it still seemed alien.
14 October 2005
A pre-Halloween dream: I found myself with the eaten (gnawed) torso of a celebrity
about whom I knew nothing other than their name. It looked like a raw side of beef.
I had a fuzzy recollection that it had become the rage to eat celebrities, which was why
I had these leftovers, but I didnt remember participating in the rage.
I needed to dispose of the torso, but didnt want anyone to think Id killed this person.
After all, it was a fashion everyone was participating in, not just me, and it needed to be
clear that it was the fashion, not murder. Should I just get some plastic gloves and someone
to help me throw it in the trash?
I didnt want to touch it. And it made me sick to think Id eaten it not just because it
was so meaty, but why would I have chosen that particular fad to glom onto when I never
glom onto any others?
25 October 2005
I was walking along what looked like a stony ledge near water, looking for a place to
shower, but then I remembered that I didnt have a towel. I mentioned this to someone,
then realized I did have a towel on my hair.
Elsewhere, we saw a train pass through a surrounding car that was set up like a sitting
room and had a fireplace that we could somehow see as though the side were partially
open. I told the other person that the engineer could stop there (like a docking station) for a
bit of rest and comfort, but then it occurred to me that the engine would block the tracks,
so how would that work? I didnt wonder how the engineer would get access to this
tunnel-like contrivance or any of the dozen other impracticalities.
An engine with a couple of cars came along, going in the other direction. It was
jumping the tracks repeatedly, looking like a bucking bronco. The effect was horrifying. I
said, Why doesnt he slow down? but the train didnt seem to be going that fast. I
wondered how long it would keep landing perfectly on the tracks as it bucked high off
them and continued moving forward. I told the person with me that I lived with train tracks
right behind my home, that they curved around my brothers ash tree and ran behind the
trailer.
We entered the respite tunnel and found it elegant and comfortable. There were all
kinds of fancy furniture for which I didnt have names, although I speculated. I think we
contemplated ordering tea and cookies but didnt know how it worked, especially since no
one else seemed to be there that we could see. We sensed something.
26 October 2005

I was in love with someone, but the moment I woke up I couldnt remember if it was a
mutual relationship or a deep, meaningful one on my part only. I tend to think the former.
One day, unbeknownst to me, he met one of my friends, and they fell for each other
instantlyso instantly that they announced their engagement and got married almost
immediately.
I was devastated. To make matters worse, I was having a hard time finding a bathroom
stall that I would fit into.
Soon it was the day of the wedding, and everyone would, without thinking, tell me
they were going. I wasnt invited, but my friends were because they were dating or married
to friends of the groom. I didnt know anyone so I wasnt invited.
I found myself at a picnic table under a tent. The setting felt like a reception. I couldnt
eat anything put in front of me, most of which seemed to be bizarre fruits. I was sick,
physically sick, not about having loved and lost, but about having been betrayed and
forgotten, about having become nothing.
28 October 2005
My dream was part spiritual experience, part adventure trek, and part sexual
experience.
I was flying over trees and water, so low that a few times I crashed. It was frightening,
but I never got hurt. Eventually I spent more time flying than crashing, and it was
exhilarating in a spiritual sense more than a physical one.
Then I was with a group exploring a mysterious place full of trees, bush, and waterfalls.
We could do anything, like we were a different form of life, including going over waterfalls
and going anywhere in the bush. It was a wonderful, indescribable setting and emotional
experience.
This was somehow supposed to culminate in a sexual experience with one particular
person, but I didnt want to wait until the end. The person I found myself with was
sweating so much that I had to close my eyes against the sting. He apologized. The last
thing I remember seeing was his rear and thinking that what was supposed to happen and
that it wasnt going to work unless there was something truly supernatural or different
about us.
The original person could see all this and didnt like it, but only in a detached way.
Still, I was concerned. Despite the circumstances, the sweat, and the uncertainties, it was
hot.
29 October 2005
At the end of a day, someone had left me a bag of work, pieces that had been around
for a while and were due, so now I would have to stay late to finish them. I saw the VP,
who works part time and would not be in for a few days, in the womens room and had a
monstrous temper tantrum about how we work and how this simply could not continue. It
was the proverbial straw.
Later, I realized I was at the community in Teaneck, New Jersey, which didnt look like
what I expected. A porch ran all the way around, with Gothic windows looking inward to
Gothic windows. Id decided to eat my work instead of doing it, because it was appetizers
and desserts. Just as I noticed that there was a lot and that maybe I couldnt finish it, I
realized there was a big party inside with lots of lights and hundreds of people. The chefs
and wait staff were looking for what I had so they could set it out, and I panicked. Then I

saw Martin waving and thought, Oh, maybe I can get away with thinking he left it for me
as a thank you. They werent looking for the food, and he had left it for me; at least I
thought so. I found myself being waved at by the chefs, the executive director, and the
sales director. Everyone seemed very happy that I was there.
Suddenly, everything was gone. I was on/in the Gothic porch/hallway. I started to
panic about getting home. A housekeeper came out and said resentfully that I probably
expected to be taken somewhere where I could get to New York (so I could catch a flight).
I said that would be wonderful. She got into a car in the parking lot and drove around the
block so she could be facing the other way, I thought. Someone else came out and pointed
out that she was being difficult.
Meanwhile, a pony pulling a carriage accidentally bumped a woman who looked
homeless, so she started abusing it, which horrified me. I thought the driver would try to
back the carriage up to get away from her but there was no room.
Suddenly I was home, which turned out to be only a block away, and the community
was still there. I could see the Gothic porch/hallway as though I were there. I noticed now
that the brickwork was painted in places, although irregularly as though the paint had
come off. I found a brush and remnants of paint and tried to cover up a spot, but overdid it.
Just then the lights came on, and another huge party started. I felt like Id been caught
again doing something questionable or wrong, just as with the food, only this time I was
giving instead of taking.
1 November 2005
I was about to jump into a body of water filled with reptiles when someone pointed out
that two small snakes with triangular heads that had just come to the edge were venomous.
I noticed two larger ones that looked just like them. An alligator had its face half rotted off
so that it looked like gray petrified wood.
I dont know if I ever went into the water. I think so.
5 November 2005
I was on a movie set in a hilly area, like the Alleghenies. I wasnt being used and tried
to leave. The path down was narrow and rocky, and a boulder appeared in front of me. I
was trying to decide how to get around it when I realized there was one behind me now. I
turned around to return and pushed a boulder down the hillside. For a long time afterward,
I heard loud, booming noises and tried not to think about how Id started a rock slide.
I looked around and the area was now mountainous, making me think of the Grand
Tetons.
On the movie set, a man was threatening a young blonde star for not doing something.
Using a knife, he traced a cut down and across her face, probably in the shape of a cross.
Meanwhile, the person whod gotten me into this was saying something about it and was
telling me that shed wanted to leave, too, even though she was being used. To my shock
and horror, the next time he actually did cut the stars face. Not deeply, but enough to
leave a faint red mark.
I also learned that this movie was set in Florida. I looked around at the snow-topped
mountain peaks and could not think of how it looked like Florida.
I continued to wait.
13 November 2005

I was in a computer class; at a critical moment I asked if learning somethingJava,
CSS, or somethingwas very much like coding or mathematics. The room went dead. The
instructor was dumbfounded. I woke up because I heard Hodge trying to chew up a box.
An earlier dream was also more involved than I can remember. I was at home, and
something happened (trees or houses were removed, perhaps), and suddenly we were
surrounded mostly by forested hills. There must have been water, because I could clearly
see things in the water. One of them was a curved, L-shaped island with red stairs leading
up to the top. I found myself floating over the sparkling water toward it, as though to
realize a dream. A castle appeared to be at the top.
The sky changed to gray, and rain or snow appeared. I suddenly saw that the hilly,
forested island with the castle was two grim, metal industrial silos.
Blackness.
20 November 2005
My dad was sitting by the edge of a pond and asked me and my aunt to go and bring
back some paper. He made it clear he wanted regular-sized sheets of paper, something
that could be written clearly on as he wanted to say something important. I started to
explain computers to him but turned around to get the paper. My aunt was ahead of me
when I heard a noise. I turned to face the pond and no longer saw my dad. After a second
or two, I realized he must have fallen in, and I ran back. I looked into the water, not
knowing how deep it was, and saw his hand somewhat below the surface but nothing else.
I grabbed it without thinking about how I could fall in and effortlessly pulled him out of the
water onto the bank. He started to say something but then his voice weakened. I called to
my aunt for help, but I dont think she heard. I started to push on his chest, but I didnt
know CPR, and my cries to her became more panic-stricken. At that moment, when I
didnt know what would happen, I woke upfeeling that it would have turned out well,
although he looked terrible. I also wondered how he stayed in a vertical position in the
water and didnt sink.
21 November 2005
I was in a house with a woman I thought was my mother and children I thought were
my siblings. One of the boys, or one of his friends (strange that I couldnt tell), was
mocking his friend (or my brother, depending on who he was).
I was eating something when it occurred to me that I was being held captive by a
vampire and that the food could be poisoned. If I stopped eating, I would be letting him
know I was onto him (wherever he was); if I kept eating, I was ensuring my own death. I
found a bathroom, which was all brushed stainless steel and had no mirrors. It was very
high-ceilinged and long. At the end was a toilet, but it was at ground level, not raised. The
stainless steel over the sink in place of a mirror horrified me, as did the toilet, which I was
sure was really the entry to an oubliette, down which I would be flung (alive or dead?).
I found a normal bathroom, small, tiled, with mirror. He had read my mind and
provided me with what I expected to throw me off.
22 November 2005
I was a rich and powerful man and was hosting an importance conference about
something that did not pertain to me. I knew all the participants (government? UN?
business?), but their meeting did not concern me.

During a session in a particular room, someone was shot, and a pall fell. I became like
a private investigator, freely looking into what happened. It was very mysterious. While it
seemed that the same thing could not happen again, a smokescreen hid the killing of
someone else during another session. They were taking more sophisticated measures to
obscure the killing, although the first remained utterly mysterious. No one had seen or
heard anything; the victim had simply been shot and died.
I went to investigate the second murder; I was not a suspect, and until now everyone
had treated me with great deference. But although I was allowed into the room, a wooden
bar across the doorway made it too small for me to fit through. It was one of those
moments when you realize bitterly that your status has changed.
3 December 2005
An annual contest usually pitted a very large, sleek, streamlined modern train against a
much smaller, quaint forebear; they were supposed to be toy trains, but they were also
large, nearly life-sized.
Behind the scenes I kept trying to arrange other trains, switches, etc., so they would
always thwart the modern bully. One train was set at a blind crossroads, with its nose
buried in a mountain tunnel, so that the modern monster ended up slamming on its brakes
and hitting it, but not doing much damage. The incident allowed the quaint train to
escape. I was trying to minimize the damage to all the old trains, as they were unique and
irreplaceable. I didnt want to sacrifice any of them and spent a lot of time agonizing over
what to do.
Someone else intervened on the modern trains behalf with what appeared to be a
military train and possibly ships in a harbor using missile launchers. Fortunately, the little
old train disappeared into the safety of the underground. At about that point, I started to
look for a bathroom from which to do my planning, so it was time to wake up.
The old train took my emotions underground with it, where they are safe from me, and,
more importantly, I am safe from them.
12 February 2006
I was with a group of people on top of a rectangular block of island, with sides that
went straight down. Apparently, the people were playing games. One was an accident-
prone coworker, who kept leaning over the straight drops to call out or do something. I
looked down at what she must have seen and realized how dangerous it was. Everything
was covered with grass.
When the group left, each person used two poles to get down the vertical sides. I could
or would not do this. I found myself on a red, rusty, rickety, blocky boat with two older
men in wheelchairs. I didnt notice how Id gotten there; I assumed a helicopter had
plucked me off the island, but why didnt it take me the rest of the way back (to where)?
The boat went down a vegetation-choked channel around the island to the other side,
almost like it was a peninsula. For some reason, the other side was unexpected to the
boats crew and came to an abrupt end. One man started turning the wheel furiously for
reasons I didnt understand. The wheel was horribly broken at the ends. Another man, the
captain, came and pulled on what I assumed was the brake.
Groups of giant men appeared in the water, blocking the channel and throwing rocks
and even boulders at the boat. They seemed to fall over as we approached; perhaps they

were fighting among themselvesit was hard to tell. They never managed to hit the boat,
but we couldnt have known that.
Finally, the last group toppled over, but we saw the wall that was the end of the
channel. We were trapped, with nowhere to go. Would the giant men come toward us? I
suddenly felt alone.
3 March 2006
I was swimming in grass. It was my backyard at home, with a layer of water over the
grass. It didnt appear deep to the eye, but three or four of us were swimming in it. I
emerged by the tire flowerbed near which my sunflower had once lived. I marveled at why
and how the yard had become covered in water. When I looked again, from the steps at
the back door, the yard looked as it always had, except perhaps without the tool shed. It
must have happened only in my mind, but it felt more real than today.
1 April 2006
I was napping (in life and in my dream), then I needed to crate Hodge because hed
bitten me (which hed done this morning for the first time in months). When I woke up in
the dream, I had a snarling, twisting cat to contend withbut his crate had been
dismantled in the oddest ways. The door was gone, but it was suddenly two half doors,
parts of which I found later. A square was missing from the top, which I also eventually
found. It occurred to me that this was possibly the work of my father, and depressing
evidence he might have dementia problems.
My dad came thundering in the door after I had jury-rigged a crate together from what
seemed like disparate pieces from two jigsaw puzzles. He was furious about something,
screaming at me about something I had done that was beyond the pale. My brother, who
behind him, explained that Dad was upset that I had not visited and/or gone to the funeral
of a particular Mexican woman to whom we owed so much. Dad pretended not to see the
cat carrier and wouldnt calm down enough to listen to my questions.
I was dazed.
Although I hated being yelled at, I didnt want the dream to end, because at least part
of my family was together again.
12 May 2006
I was in a cave or an underground room with someone, at least at first. He or she
pointed out the patterns and shadows on the walls, which began to move mysteriously.
They never appeared to be distinct or concrete, but they portrayed a people that
surrounded itself in greengreen walls, green clothing, etc. As the story unfolded, the
reason was revealed; when I asked questions, this people told me that they consumed raw
human flesh and blood, and the purpose of the green was to offset the brightness and
visual shock of the blood and gores red.
I was alone in a subterranean passage or room, possibly but not definitely connected to
the cave. It seemed to be manmade. People with large noses were wandering around, as
though between meetings. They seemed to be unusual in some way and were mute. I
began to think that they must be the human-eating species of the cave patterns, and they
terrified me with their alien, yet humanoid appearance and the possibility that they ate
human flesh. I saw that everything around them was green.

A thought came to me that one of them wished to kill me for vengeance, cause
unknown, but I did not know which one. To me, they looked similar to one another. I felt
my own nose, realizing that it was unusually large. I wondered if I were related to this
people.
Suddenly, based on an unconscious premonition, I spun around just in time to catch
an icicle spear aimed and thrown at my heart through my back. The assailant stood frozen
before me, but I felt danger all around. The real threat was out there, armed with icicle
spears that bore death. I said, Its not me!
I sensed that the killer or killers, and the others, were not interested in eating me. Yet
the image of the cave walls, plus that of one of the creatures with blood dripping from its
hands and mouth in silhouette, came again and filled me with speechless horror. I knew
now that each of them was looking to kill a particular person. I said again, Its not me!
21 May 2006
For unknown reasons, we decided to move. The trailer we were pulling was white with
yellow trim, like the one I grew up in, but the inside was unfamiliar. We pulled it on what
seemed like a dangerous journey through various types of country sides. I did not know
where we were going or why.
Dads driving seemed erratic, and when we were near water we would drive over and
even on the underside of cliffs without incident. I was remarking mentally how miraculous
it was that he could do that without the vehicle and the trailer falling in when we found
ourselves off the road and floating in a narrow, dark channel of water in an industrial area
or town.
I didnt know how I could get across the cold, dark, dirty water, but did. I was
desperate to rescue some things, mostly photos in a couple of different places and my
clarinet. I saved a box or something, but what I really wanted was to get the metal suitcase
of photos.
When I came back out from setting the box down, the trailer had sunk in the water, but
was rising again like a body. I pushed everyone to save it on my behalf. My brother
managed to pull it onto a concrete pad, but it came back too far and hit something like a
tank. I waited for an explosion that didnt come but was torn between trying to save my
photos and the fear of being caught in a fireball. A truck next door tried to back across the
alley and down but also hit a gas pump or tank before I could scream in warning. I waited
for the explosion but, again, nothing happened. There was the silence of anticipation.
9 July 2006
I had an indoor office, maybe even in the city, but I could step outside into what
seemed to be woodlands with a rustic bridge, where I spent all my time working. The
eagles with a nest nearby high on a pole or in a sparsely vegetated tree paid no attention to
me. I dont remember spending any time indoors.
One day I looked down, and there appeared to be a beach and an ocean. The eagles
were competing with a dog and/or more dogs or cats for something on the beach. I did not
want to chase off the other animals for fear of startling the eagles, who had always seemed
oblivious to me.
A large, black, horse-drawn carriage came along. Someonewhether male or female, I
dont knowspoke to me about my interfering with the dogs and/or cats. I tried to explain
about the eagles. The nest now had a long pole under it, parallel to the ground, and

seemed off-balance. I touched the pole lightly to try to adjust it, but to my horror the whole
thing teetered and threatened to topple to the ground. I could feel the remonstrance of the
eagles I was trying to help.
I was inside the coach and noticed many levers. I pulled some of them. I think I heard
bells, but it seemed the coach was so enormous that the sound did not reach the driver.
One seemed to make the horse or horses gallop, and from above I saw the coach make a
90-degree turn at full speed, right where the beach or a cliff met the ocean. The horse or
horses had disappeared (into the gulf?), and all that was left were the traces. I felt sick, but
somehow knew that it was not my doing if they were killed or gone.
The coach arrived at an estate.
20 August 2006
I havent recorded some dreams in the past few weeks, maybe because Im lazy or
busy, perhaps a little depressedIve been sleeping too much on weekendsbut mostly
because I have felt reticent. Wisdom is silent.
Symbolism. I was in a bed, waiting for a lover but more likely a husband. As I lay there,
I became aware of an eye looking through what seemed to be an aperture in the wall next
to the bed. It was too large to be a human eye. I did not want it to see and noticed that the
opening had a cover, which I pulled down. It was clear, and the eye was still visible.
Involuntarily I made some sounds that could have been of pain or pleasure or both, and
was terrified that the eye would detect the sounds; the disconnection in that thought did
not occur to me.
(When I woke up I realized that the eye was fixed; it looked neither up nor down, nor
from side to side, nor did it blink. It was the unflinching, unfocused eye of omniscience, of
omnipotence.)
A roommate, a person I know who I do not like, showed me a soft, clear, wizard-
shaped squeeze bottle of cleaner because she had noticed a rust spot in the toilet. The
room was dark, cluttered, full of mystery and mysterious things, like the world outside, yet
the thought of the mind and the speech of the mouth were concentrated on the trivial.
A person I never knew well and with whom I never had anything in common; a person
who seems to have achieved some ambitions and goals; a person who, from the little I
know or care to know, leads an outwardly conventional life, haunts my dreams but not my
waking thoughts or feelings. I yearn for his attention and his approval with a devastating
excess of feelingand never gain even the slightest notice.
This time, in an agony, I disappeared into a hidden place, like a cave with a river, and
took off my clothes, exposing my nakedness yet exposing nothing, for to all I am invisible.
While hiding and trying to control the uncontrollable, I saw two men fall as though ill or
dead, and I argued with my conscience about revealing myself and my nakedness to help
them. I did the right thing and brought them back to life. One spontaneously hugged me in
gratitude, but when he felt my nakedness and saw the insignificance of who I am, he
laughed contemptuously. I fled and tried to find another place to hide, a place safe from
derision. The only place left was in the open, among the crowd. There were no safe places
without people, and I did not want to be with them any more.
This morning I dreamed that I saw a spectacular silver maple tree with a full green
crown of glory. Then I saw a tree, an ash, near which I had lived, but this did not seem
right. It was the ash tree that my brother had planted in 6th grade for Arbor Day, but I think
my dad had told me that it had died or been cut down because of disease, maybe the
disease of the landowners convenience. In my heart, part of me had been struck down

with the ash, because it was the first thing I saw every morning of my childhood. When I
woke up, the thought of the silver maple made me happy for a moment because it was the
one that I had planted in 6th grade. In the 34 years since, it would have grown into
majesty. I was still thinking this for a few moments after I woke up when I remembered that
vandals had uprooted my silver maple sapling shortly after wed planted it. I still mourn the
tree with so much potential that was murdered so young.
In my waking life this week, someone told me that a particular horror movie was
pretty good. She expressed no emotion about it; it was entertainment that was pretty
good. From a fatal sense of curiosity, I looked the movie up to learn that it seems to be the
worst type of slash porn, the type of movie that seems utterly incompatible with any sense
of human empathy. People took their small children (under 10) to see it. And to date it has
grossed more than $41 million.
Perhaps I dream to escape the nightmare.
17 September 2006
I was in a darkened room next to an accountant or actuary, discussing some numbers. I
noticed a side window covered by a thick curtain with bright edges of light. I felt closed in,
so I opened it. The window looked out onto an endless vista, with a few rows of colorful
bushes filled with tightly packed flowers across from the window. I was shocked because a
home was supposed to be there. I couldnt believe the vista. Then I turned to find a second
window in a perpendicular wall. It was like home, with the window in the extra room that
faced the trailer across the driveway and the rear window that overlooked the back yard.
The other person had joined me, and we saw fantastic, colorful birds that resembled real
species but didnt seem real.
At the rear of the yard, I spotted three very large, slightly cartoonish birds. Raptors! I
exclaimed, or perhaps it was Falcons! or Hawks! When I looked again more carefully,
I realized that the one in the middle was what would have been called a buzzard in a
cartoon but it was really a vulture with a thick bill. This seemed important, but I hoped the
accountant/actuary wouldnt notice. Perhaps it was a bad omen, perhaps I still wasnt sure,
or perhaps I didnt want him to know that in my enthusiasm I had been mistaken.
23 September 2006
While showing guests my apartment, I found a huge room that I had forgotten about. It
had hardwood floors, a solid wall of windows that was two stories high, and good but
mismatched furniture (including a sofa). There were even a single-bowl sink and a door
that led to a deck with the trash.
On the rooms many shelves, tables, and stands, I found things I had forgotten were
missing. I discovered teas and biscuits that were growing mealy bugs and tried to rush
them out to the convenient trash, as they were the rooms only imperfection I could see.
Although the room had a television, I told someone that if it had a cable connection I
would like their help moving my TV from the living room into this room. Subconsciously I
saw myself moving into this room.
I asked for assistance washing a mountain of dishes. It was difficult with the single-
bowl sink, and the two drain boards were small, pointed the wrong way, and dirty from
disuse. I had no way to organize the dishwashing, rinsing, and drying, and I became so
frustrated that I almost cried. The water smelled and tasted terrible, too, and I wondered if
that could be fixed.

We noticed that the room communicated across a divider, not quite a hallway, with a
modern, frosted green glass room. I went to slide the doors shut, but someone from the
other side was doing it already, a bit huffily. The glass walls went only part way up,
though, but my wall was solid; Im not sure how this worked with the narrow divider
hallway. I decided that it was a conference room since it was so modern and offered no
privacy.
I came back to find nearly everyone gone but a person (gender unknown) who was my
husband, apparently, and two boys who turned out to be my late husbands sons. I didnt
know them at first and feared them, but found they were loyal and devoted to me. They
were the boys that I had always wanted.
The topic became someone else, a friend of theirs perhaps, who needed to be told
about birth control, or so I thought. Im not sure what the other people thought.
The husband (I didnt remember having one, like I didnt remember having the boys)
started talking to me about our children, the religion we would raise them in, and so forth.
I saw the two loyal boys who were virtually my own and then thought of the spiritual
responsibility of having my own children. I was also confused at having this person in my
life who I didnt know or recognize. Perhaps we should have discussed these things more
before we got married, I said. I am 45 and did not think to have children at this point.
The person seemed stunned, although I could never quite see the face. The boys and the
person then faded away, and they took the room with them.
26 September 2006
I was in a cave when a motley group of people roller skated by me. Steppenwolfs
Magic Carpet Ride was blasting, and they seemed happy. Someone told me that this was
or would be the best movie ever and that I should join in. I cant roller skate, but I did.
Perhaps I was running, but it felt like fluid motion.
I learned that there was or had been a powerful vampire in a refrigerator, and someone
had or was about to let him out. Now there was a sense of terror, although it was subtle;
perhaps only I really felt it. I saw someone who looked more like a cat-like creature
operating on a bag, and I had a feeling of foreboding. Suddenly metallic but animal teeth
snatched the operator into the bag, and now I was terrified. The music and the flow of the
skates never stopped.
30 September 2006
I was participating in a special service at my old church, where I was to read from a
book. Suddenly, after reaching the platform, I had to go to the bathroom. I didnt know
when I was supposed to read and didnt want to miss the opportunity, but I couldnt wait
any longer so I left.
To my horror, I found an odd-looking child with curly hair with me. I couldnt tell
whether it was a boy or girl, and it had a large head and small body like a cartoon. The
child didnt say anything but would not leave me. I thought I would be accused of
abduction.
I found myself in a maze of hallways. This appeared to be a new building, constructed
since my last visit in the place where the pastors house used to be. I could see the parking
lot at one point, although there did not appear to be windows. The walls were natural
pine, complete with knotholes. Graffiti, mostly in white, covered them, which shocked me

as I could not imagine the kids at the church treating it openly with such disrespect. I tried
to read it to see if it was at least spiritual in nature, but I couldnt.
I found the bathroom, but as is usual in my dreams it was odd and required decisions
about cleanliness, privacy, etc. By this time I was carrying the child, who seemed utterly
attached to me. As I sat in a stall with no door, still holding the child, a man came toward
me. I thought somehow that this childs father had lost his wife (the mother?) and had
remarried. The man/father took the child from me wordlessly as I sat there.
When I came out, unsure if Id missed the time for my reading, I looked down and saw
that my formerly fresh yellow dress was streaked with lines of embedded dirt. I did not
know how this could have happened, but between the fathers silent accusation, the
childs unspoken attachment and anguish, and the mysterious ruin of the dress, I wanted to
fade away.
6 December 2006
When I woke up, I found that each of the ends of my hair was lit like a stick of incense.
I started trying to put them out with my fingers so that I wouldnt start a fire, but the more I
tried the worse the situation became. A spark landed on the carpet, which caught fire. I
stepped on it and put it out; it did not leave even a scorch mark.
I went into the living room, where I found messy chaos spread everywhere. Two tiny
Christmas trees had been knocked over. I tried to right them, but their bases were so tiny in
proportion that they could not support the trees. My mother would be very unhappy when
she saw the condition of the room.
I suddenly realized that I must have left the cat (not Hodge) loose, but she was
nowhere to be found. I went outside, which turned out to be an incredible garden with
built-up earthen ledges everywhere. I found an eraser and a pen with cartoon characters
on it and stole them. Somehow I knew they belonged to a mysterious, wonderful man who
I had to find. I went to look for him.
10 December 2006
I think I was leaving a party and was walking across the back lawn when someone
threw me a pistol and told me to shoot at a target that appeared to be on a wagon. The
person who threw the gun, who may have been someone I knew and admired, didnt
move and was too close to the target, and I didnt say anything. I accidentally shot his eye
out. I saw everything as though I was a third person, and I heard someone say, They [the
man I had shot and I] have always been passionate about one another. I thought I saw us
embracing.
I could not bear what I had done and could not look at him, at the accusation in the
missing eye.
I was driving an odd vehicle up a stairway of rocks, and the more I tried to surmount
the obstacles, the more fluid flowed from the wheels. I did not remember this happening
when my father drove. Suddenly he was there to tell me I had taken the wrong route and
was doing all the wrong things.
To get to my room, I had to climb what appeared to be an icy rock or, as an
alternative, rocks that were sheer and underneath which someone I know from college lay,
possibly drunk and stoned. I did not know what to do, and then I tried to help him out
from underneath so I wouldnt hurt him. He laughed at me because he did not need my
help and thought he would be fine where he was. There may have been someone else

there. I struggled to climb up, but couldnt. It felt like climbing a sheer chest of drawers. I
could not face doing that every day. Maybe I cried.
14 December 2006
A drawing was held for members of my high school band to go to a city in Italy. My
name wasnt drawn, but I was asked to take care of someones cat. When I was asked
where they were, I could not remember. It wasnt Rome . . . or Milan . . . or Venice . . . or
Florence . . . Suddenly I remembered that it was Padua.
I was near a stream where an attack was taking place. A line of bodies, men in swim
trunks, lay face down in the water along the bank, and the attackers were using short,
curved blades at the end of poles to deface their backs. One was solidly bloody. I thought I
recognized one of the attackers and wondered at what was happening and why.
27 December 2006
I was at a restaurant in a high-rise that seemed to be part of an amusement park. I was
with a group of people, but I dont think I knew any of them. A couple stayed with me, but
although I talked easily with them as though I knew them, I didnt know their names. I
noticed that the man, who was very handsome and charming, would touch me in odd
ways that seemed both affectionate/sexy and creepy. At one point he passed his arm or
hand around my head.
I found some small dogs, which made me realize that the couple and maybe others
were demons and that I had to protect the dogs from them. Someone, or a voice, told me
that of course they were demons and that the touch of the man had taken away my head. I
struggled to remember if he had touched me there.
Confused about my head, which I thought I still had but which no one else could see,
and determined to save the dogs, I took the man by surprise and pushed him over the
edge. When I looked down, I could see his clothes in a pile but not him. Now I was no
longer sure that he was a demon, and I wondered if I had just committed a murder. I was
also not certain that the dogs, which I had locked into the womens room, were truly safe.
5 January 2007
I was working with one of my former consulting coworkers, but I was supposed to
catch a flight to Washington, D.C., also for work. I was carrying a suitcase, but had no
ticket or even date and time.
Along with my coworker, I was supposed to meet with the corporate comptroller and
corporate director of human resources (possibly the city of Chicago). I took a bus, which
passed through a particularly tempting rural area of woods and winding roads, where I
really wanted to walk.
I never decided, and then the scene changed. I was in the city, then at the outer glass
door of the corporate controllers office, on which I knocked. I realized that no one was
there, possibly because I was late, and that I should go to the office of the corporate
director of human resources. I couldnt find it.
I was in an atrium area and began to recognize people and offices from my old firm,
even though the offices were open and otherwise different from what they had been. There
were also many new people mixed in.

I encountered the former IT director turned health care consultant. After some
questioning, I told them all who I was looking for and why. They told me they were going
to scheme to get the business from us.
At some point, I felt like they might have tried to get me to come back, but when I
woke up I wasnt sure about that. Still anxious because I didnt know when I was to leave
for Washington, D.C., I managed to find the office of the corporate director of human
resources. The consultant was not there. I apologized for being late, but the director asked
me if we had added the word local to the ad. I knew nothing about an ad, but I didnt
want her to realize that.
The director showed me a printed piece that was long and folded accordion style.
While discreetly trying to find the word local, I discovered that, if I let fall open a certain
way and at a certain speed, the images in the photos moved, as they do in a flipbook.
There was one of a waterfall in which the water flowed. I showed this to her, and she
became fascinated with it. Meanwhile, I was distracted by thoughts of the travel issue, the
missing consultant, and the scheming consultants, as well as anxiety over whether or not
they wanted me back or not.
It took me an hour to wake up.
13 January 2007
I looked out the window and thought that I saw the lake lapping the ground- or first-
floor windows of the buildings across the street. I thought, That cannot be possible; the
lake cannot have risen that much in only a couple of hours. I looked again, and it seemed
normal. I looked yet again, and gray water was swirling up higher along the lower
windows. I did not dare to think about my own building.
My apartment had a door in a passageway that I never used. One day, I realized that I
did not know whether it was locked, and the possibility that it might be open made me
nervous. I could find neither lock nor key.
It was only then that I thought of opening it. I walked out onto a ledge, but could not
be sure if there were stairs or a ladder leading up to it from outside. I noticed that I had
unconsciously walked to the edge of the ledge without taking note of its width; I could
have walked off it. As in other dreams, it did not seem stable, and it overlooked a tree-
filled park or forest that I could not reach and that was not real.
I continued to be anxious about the unsecured door and intruders for some time. When
I looked, there was a lock with a small, jewelry box-type key in it. I wondered briefly how I
had overlooked the lock and key before.
I was watching television with my parents. During a commercial, I changed the
channel to what appeared to be a movie with Elvis Presley singing and dancing to a gym or
auditorium full of high school kids during a Christmas party. I walked up to a large window
and could see him and another person on the stage from above. I watched them gyrate and
throw their heads back so that their contorted faces would appear briefly. I tried to get my
cousin to see Elvis from the window. From that angle, he looked not only human but silly,
but my cousin could not see what I could.
I became so engrossed in watching the movie from this angle that it was a while before
I guiltily remembered to change the channel back for my parents, just as my dad was
saying, Where is that show we were watching?
6 February 2007

I was flying with two or three men on the way to a competition. My dad may have
been one of them and may have been the pilot. The plane appeared to be open, and we
were soaring in brilliant midday sunshine over glowing green alpine meadows. Then the
flight, which had been marvelous, almost fantastic, became a series of unplanned,
inexplicable landings that seemed to lessen our chances of reaching and winning the
competition and even of surviving. Most important, though, was my desire to return to that
sunny alpine flight, the feeling of which could not be recaptured.
I found myself hiding in a dark cottage with meandering halls deep in a dense, dark
forest. Although it seemed to be remote, men outside were looking for the occupant, who
was the butt of their malicious fun. He and my parents had left by a back way as he was
taking them somewhere.
Two or three men peered through the windows, while I tried to take advantage of the
oddly meandering halls to hide myself. Every movement I made left me exposed at a
window. There was no place to hide, although it felt like there should be.
Convinced that the occupant was still there, the men came in and found me. I felt
cornered, then sexually threatened by them, even without any spoken or overt movements.
I thought about the dense, dark forest around the cottage and remembered suddenly that it
had seemed magically artificial, like a well-executed stage set or the product of an
introverted imagination. It was not as remote, isolated, or natural as I wanted and needed it
to be.
12 February 2007
I was riding my bicycle through the countryside, both wooded and open, and felt
carefree.
Suddenly I was in a home office paneled with dark wood, with electrodes stuck to my
chest, having a physical exam. I could tell by the attitude of the doctor and my labored
breathing that the results were not good, that they were in fact terrible. I thought of The
Boy and began to wonder if he would walk in and see me like that and what he would
think.
I was at a gathering, and a friend came by. Suddenly a stroller rolled up on its own, as
though brought by remote control. In it was the baby of another friend. The Boy
appeared, and instinctively I took off the babys worsted cap and mittens and counted her
fingers. For the first time, The Boy stopped and noticed me, but I did not seem to care
much (I was careful not to miscount the fingers).
22 February 2007
I was inside a dim building at what seemed to be an open house. I looked outside, and
it was under renovation. It may have been in a deep forest, too. The hosts recognized me
as one of them; they were the outlaws of Sherwood Forest, and this building, part of a
university, was their headquarters while it was being refurbished. I was confused because I
could not see how they could hide in such a place while having an open house at which
dozens of families were milling about. I looked outside again, and the rubble of renovation
had been replaced by landscaping.
I may not have known who I was, but everyone seemed to know and respect me. I
heard some people discussing how they didnt like the design upstairs. I found a security
badge of a different kind from the one I had and went upstairs; the design turned out to
be alcoves of pieces of scientific equipment labeled with the scientists name.

As I was coming back down the stairs, someone who didnt recognize me asked to see
my badge. I remained puzzled by the exposed hideout and the idea of an open house, not
to mention my involvement. I liked the idea, but I wondered what had happened to the
forest life.
24 February 2007
Because of rearranging at work due to space, my former VP had put me in the middle
of a long, school cafeteria-type table, with only one or two square feet of workspace. I was
both trapped and cramped. I noticed one of the older partners from my old job at a
workstation against the wall and commented that he must have fallen on harder times to
be in the same situation as I was. He said, Its our age. This is what happens to you once
you become what is considered old [even though it isnt at all old]. He turned his
head, and I noticed that he was wearing a hearing aid in his left ear. I thought that that was
it; we are old and stupid because we cannot hear.
Half my anxieties must have manifested themselves in that short dream, about being
trapped in the job with nowhere to go and no opportunities, and being considered too old
and disabled for it by others, although not by me.
14 March 2007
I was at an event that involved going from tent to tent to participate in different
activities. At the end of one, I couldnt find my socks, then my shoes, then something I had
been carrying. I found a pair of socks similar to mine but didnt know whether to take them
out of necessity. I was getting increasingly desperate because I had a sense that I needed to
visit the other tents to collect various belongings and that I had to catch a flight to
somewhere. The scene changed to that of a food tent, where no one knew what I was on
the verge of tears about.
Then I was in a car with a high school friend I have not seen in a long time. I asked her
what she was doing, and she said that she was getting a degree in _____ psychology. I
couldnt distinguish the first the word, so I asked her to repeat herself. _____ psychology.
We went through this several times before I realized that she was saying plague
psychology. I think I asked her what that is, and she, thinking I didnt know what plague is
or what it would be, said somewhat derisively, You know, like in India or China. I dont
think of bubonic plague specifically in those countries, but then I wondered if she meant
diseases like cholera and dysentery.
I couldnt imagine what plague psychology might mean. It struck me as odd because
her idea of travel is a week on a beach in the Bahamas, not an educational Eastern
adventure. She is also not the type to volunteer or to seek discomfort. So I asked her if she
planned to go to India or China (to apply plague psychology to victims, presumably, and
she replied brusquely, Hell, no. I was left speculating why she was spending time, effort,
and money on something that clearly did not interest her or that she would use. I lay half
awake for a half hour puzzling over this as well as recovering from the panic of having lost
my socks and shoes before a flight.
15 March 2007
I was in the old back yard at home and looked up to see a very thin, sprawling tree
crown to my right. When I traced its origins against the bright sky downward, the pencil-
thin trunk actually started to my left behind the neighbors trailerthe crown was that

high. Perched on this wispy, overhanging crown were two large birds I identified as little
blue herons. They seemed to be harassing a smaller bird, but when they all flew off with
the larger seemingly in pursuit of the smaller, I realized it was likely to be their offspring.
Between the yard and the woods, the lilac bushes had been replaced by a mesh fence,
810 feet in height, with white blankets thrown over the black mesh (for privacy?) I looked
underneath or through somehow and found a sleeping bag or blankets on the ground,
along with some other things that made it appear to be a homeless persons camp. I must
have gotten through the fence somehow because I walked on the bag/blankets, which
seemed to be the only way to ascertain that no one was there. I left but turned around and
saw something very small moving under the blanket. I wondered what it could be; later
when half a wake I thought it must have been an animal. But I still doubted it.
Now some clothes, including an old wool coat of mine, were hung over the fence on
the yard side. Like a child I began to fuss that the coat might be stolen and did my dad
know that someone was living beyond the screen? I couldnt tell if anyone around or who I
was fussing to. I continued. I said that my dad was [hesitation] 88 years old and shouldnt
have to put up with uncertainty and fear, and then I remembered that he had died. I
remembered my mother, who was 80-some years old, but the fact that I couldnt
remember her age reminded me that she had died at age 64, years ago.
Although I had felt that there had been someone there to whom Id been speaking, I
knew now that I was always utterly alone. I felt the weight and despair of a bleak reality
keeping me alive enough to suffer. I looked over the mesh fence hoping to see the tops of
the group of trees that filtered just enough sunlight to dapple their comforting shade.
Instead, there was the painfully clear sunlight of a high alien skyand a row of housetop
peaks. The woods were gone, and so was my home, the only place that had ever touched
my heart.
20 March 2007
I was in a classroom full of consultants, where a presentation was being made to an
academic client. Various people, including me, would comment, sometimes humorously,
on what was being said. The presentation was going well. Then the partner in charge
spoke up from near the back and rambled incoherently for a long time. Everyone looked
uncomfortable; we could tell she was losing the client, who was standing in front of the
room looking perturbed.
Then I was in a beachfront mall, with the water beckoning at one end, trying to find
my mother so we could have lunch and decide what to do. Instead, I found a friend, who
stopped to look at shoes. In the store, I noticed that the ones she was now wearing, pink
clogs, were too new.
I found a table at a restaurant, but before my mother or friend had arrived, five or six
good-looking boys from my high school (although no one I actually recognized or knew)
came and took all the seats around me. They seemed fascinated by me, as though I had
been the most attractive girl in the school. Intrigued, I asked the closest one what he was
doing now, and he said he had found a career that brought him into constant contact with
his primary interestgarbage. (But he was not a trash collector.) I thought he was insane.
I found myself at a different table, in a different place, with a man from college who
also seemed to admire me and who was equally odd in his tastes and profession. I cant
remember them, or perhaps he didnt tell me exactly. They probably involved writing or
consulting.

21 March 2007
The world was ending, or so it seemed, unless you somehow lived through the next
few days. My memory of specific events is hazy, but my feelings about them are strong.
We were putting things that we wanted to save into a pit in the ground, although it
seemed that the very earth itself was collapsing. I could not decide whether I would save
my favorite stuffed animals by putting them into the pit or keeping them with me, or which
ones to save, although my destination may have been the pit.
I heard that it had fallen in and become subdivided and very crowded with people. But
I had found myself in the cave-like home of a wealthy woman, who was away, at her
behest. It seemed like a magical place. The entry, which was impregnable, was in an
alcove formed in part by a natural pillar. Everything about this fascinated methe door,
the lighting, the pillar.
My memory is so faulty, or my perception so unclear, that I dont know if the pit was
part of this else or was located elsewhere, but I know that, although I had the womans
permission, I was not supposed to be there. As long as I remained there, I was deceiving a
friend, who would think was I was the woman until either I emerged or she returned. I
hated to leave the safety and wonder of the alcove and the magic of the place.
24 March 2007
Another woman and I were leading a tour group and planned to ask them trivia
questions. They did not answer the first question correctly, and the other guide gave me
her PDA to find the answer and the next question. I knew the answer and didnt want to
use the PDA. With the stylus, I somehow deleted the trivia questions and answers and
replaced them with mysterious numbers and characters. At this point, I think we may have
stopped somewhere for lunch.
Then we came upon an old, haunted-looking house or castle, Gothic or ornate in
design, blackened with age. I dont remember anything from my own consciousness after
this.
The group wanted to look for me, but they were reluctant to go inside. Eventually, they
did and couldnt find me. They became more and more frightened.
I found myself on a chaise lounge, facing a grouping of small leaded windows that
formed a large arch, like in a church. I knew the group was frightened but I did not want to
be found. Then, unbeknownst to me, one member found me but thought I was dead as I
lay there.
At that moment, I opened my eyes. By then, the entire group was there, staring back at
my reflection in the window in terror, since they had presumed I was dead. I got up and
tried to climb an oddly configured glass spiral staircase that changed shape or direction or
size with my every step. As I did, I explained the correct answer to the trivia question,
which was that it is dogs that fall asleep while eating. [Perhaps this is a subconscious
reference to the current pet food recall.] I told them that this was the American home of
Vlad the Impaler, and described some of his more gruesome crimes while telling them that
they had nothing to fear.
Suddenly, they were gone, and I was lying on the chaise lounge again, looking at my
broken reflection in the church-like windows. I wondered if I was dead or alive, and what
type of spirit I had become. And if I were alone.
28 March 2007

A creaking noise woke me, and at first I lay very still so that whoever was there would
not know that I was awake and bother me. When I opened my eyes a little, I found a large
family in my room, talking about how grateful they were for my letting them stay with me.
One was sitting in a chair I dont have in a space I dont have. I tried to go back to sleep,
but they were talking too loudly, although they had not wanted to wake me up. I was still
afraid of a burglar.
Then they were gone, and when I opened the door I could see out to what looked like
a church altar, with everything made of wood. Awards for playing string instruments were
being announced, and I was winning many of them. The instrument was shown as the
award was announced, and the second violin [sic] looked as large as a cello.
I saw some reserved seats at two round tables that were rotating and thought about
stopping the rotation and taking one. I think I was also asked to play but dont know what
happened since I cant play any stringed instrument, let alone all of them.
Then I was outside on the ground, along with other high school kids. We were given
gold badges with information with which we were to identify a classmate. Mine read,
Silly Worth and identified the person as the daughter of the owner of Worth Industries.
I seemed to be the only one able to identify my person (Billie Wirth). I didnt know her
father was an industrialist. As I was to be called upon, I lost the badge in the grass, which
seemed to have ridges and to be dirty and slimy. I found myself face to face with a large
praying mantis and told a friend, but she didnt care. I tried to touch it with my gloved
hand and then went back to looking among the increasing number of furrows and
changing topography of the grass for the badge.
31 March 2007
I found myself seated on a curved maple bench at a table, one of two benches and
tables, watching a play, possibly Shakespeare, among a group of strangers on a campus.
The experience, once I understood it, was interactive and wonderful, and some of the men
around me seemed interested in me, although they didnt speak to me.
The cast of the play disappeared, and we went further into the building to find them.
The male members were at a bar or restaurant counter, while the female members were
lined up at a bathroom door.
It occurred to me that I was finally finishing my college degree, but then I forgot which
classes I had already completed and which needed to be taken. Then I couldnt decide if I
should start over and take all the classes, even the ones for which I had credit, as though
doing so would change my grades or experience or path.
When I woke up, I wondered how many times I am going to dream about finishing a
degree I received in 1983.
4 April 2007
Dad was driving a man named Don, another man (possibly his cousin J.), and me in a
very large van south on Route 20. We were all spread out, and I was in the back on the
right-hand side, trapped behind something. I noticed that Dad had gone missing and that
no one was driving. I tried frantically to scramble to the front to get control of the vehicle,
but I couldnt move and couldnt seem to make the others hear me or understand the
danger.
The van crashed into a train and almost seemed to become part of it in a blended way,
not as a whole, as though there had been an inter-dimensional shift (this was the term

that came into my sleeping mind). I panicked in my anguish and concern over the fate of
Don, the cousin, and especially my dad, and only later realized that after the accident I
was observing events from the outside, as though I had not been in the van, which was
fading into the train cars. Im not even sure I was still in my own body.
That will teach me to read The Mothman Prophecies, even for fun.
7 April 2007
I was at the grocery store with my shopping cart, looking through a big cardboard box.
It was full of things that I must have given to the store to sell as used. I didnt mind the
idea, but I found my recorder, my Clarke tin whistle, and one or two other things that I
regretted parting with. I wrestled with my conscience over the need to make a clean break
with things vs. my interest in these particular items. In the end, I couldnt leave the
recorder and tin whistle there. I worried about having enough room to bring them home in
my cart and wondered how I would pay for them, since they did not have price tags.
I seemed to be at a poolside with a man and a couple of women. I dont think I was a
visible participant in the group, but was more of an invisible observer. The man proposed
to one of the women, and I had a flash of insight that he had been engaged to the other
woman at another time. I tried to say, somewhat jokingly, Youve proposed to every
woman you know.
He pulled out a pencil and composition book and started to work on his novel; he was
a noted author, I began to think. One of the women, a ministers daughter, had stripped
and jumped into the pool and then asked if there were any snakes in the water as she had
forgotten to look. It was dusk and hard to see; there may have been. The man was standing
in the water a few feet from the end of the pool, where I suddenly noticed an enormous
black snake. It must have felt his movements in the pool because it came out a little and
started to raise its great head toward him while he speculated as to why snakes would get
into the water. I was unable to warn him.

P.M.

In a Whose Line Is It Anyway? dream, I and another guy were supposed to listen to
disco-type music and demonstrate, on our respective examples of Kansas football players,
which activities on a cruise ship the music is used during. The first song was Ladies
Night, and we both started doing a chest massage, but I immediately thought, No, a
massage would require soothing music, so I changed my activity to exercise class. The
next song (unknown) inspired us to put our guys on gurneys and roll them into oblivion off
the football field-like set (the famous cruise activity of taking to hospital?), while the host
said, No, come back, there are two more!
I found a rail car and pushed, and too late realized it was attached to another, maybe a
caboose, and that because of momentum I couldnt stop it, although I tried. I worried
about them never stopping and about grooves in the floor. My dad later found them
blocking the trailer hallway and wondered how theyd ended up there, when normally
they were in the kitchen. I found there were others elsewhere, too.
10 April 2007
I was getting ready to go out to do something important, perhaps to vote. From the
porch of my house on a hill, I could see the midnight blue night sky and thousands of

golden flecks flying by horizontally. I got it into my head that they were shooting stars
and that I was witnessing an elusive asteroid shower. No, my dad said from the front
yard, theyre motes, which I took to mean insects. He could feel them and soon I could
feel them striking me, too. It was like an apocalyptic plague, and sadly I realized that I
could not go anywhere in those conditions.
I went into the house, which was an old rural one, and found the bushy tip of Pudges
tail. She was nearby, wide-eyed, frightened, and almost kittenish in appearance. Her tail
was only 3/4 long. I told myself that she had shed her tail tip before, that it was normal
and that she didnt need veterinary attention, but I did not really believe it. I could see
bone and a little blood on the tip that had come off, but her remaining tail seemed
complete. I was puzzled by events and nervous.
13 April 2007
This one is murky, like the darkness in which it took place. It was 2:00 a.m., and I was
in the apartment of a colleague from a Florida communitybut the place seemed to be
Chicago. I needed to take a train, but when I arrived at the station I realized that I had no
money. I found some change in my pockets, including a large $10 coin in the shape of Ben
Franklin. Naturally I found this fascinating and did not want to use it.
I dont know whether was in a dark underground train station or at a dark underground
party or bar. Someone I had gone to high school with, who was in the class behind mine,
kept trying to put his arm around me, which embarrassed and disturbed me. I sensed that
his attentions were somehow hurting a potential relationship with someone important to
me. I started to feel like I was highly desirable to many if not all of the men around me.
Another man expressed interest; he was physically unattractive but interesting and
compelling. I both craved and feared his attentions, the latter for the same reason as
beforethat being seen with him would hurt a desired relationship. He seemed to be an
aristocrat.
I saw a man, a famous actor whose persona and work do not appeal to me, lying on a
lower level with his head on a rock and pining for me. The rock was engraved with my
image or name. This turn of events, combined with the surreal dimness of the setting and
situation, confused and upset me. I did not know what to do.
14 April 2007
I seemed to be at a school when I was told that one of the actuary partners from my
former firm wanted to see me. He came along, and we were looking for a quiet place to
talk. There was a stage in a dark room, but people were rehearsing under it. In the
meantime, I thought he was going to confess his attraction to me, which in the dream I
desired. We finally settled somewhere that also seemed dark, but it could not have been
quiet because his eyes kept following the actions of children, including his own, who were
going into and coming out of a store nearby. The big secret that he wanted to share with
me in private and that gave him life for a change was that my interests had inspired him to
make a donation or start an endowment at the zoo.
Afterward, I found myself with a small, white, mouse-like animal in my hand. At first I
thought it was dead, but it gave signs of being alive yet sluggish. I set it down and to my
horror my friends cocker spaniel (Boomer or Dusty) picked it up in his mouth. I said
something about the dog, which offended her and her family because I didnt use his
name.

I recovered the little white creature, which still seemed unreal to me; it was so solid. It
was no longer moving at all and seemed truly dead. I tried putting it into a dishpan of
water to see if that would revive it. My grief grew, as did my denial that the case was
hopeless. Then I did not know what to do with the body and was reluctant to do anything
for fear that it was still alive.
15 April 2007
I was a guest on A Prairie Home Companion with Garrison Keillor and was reading
with him from a book that looked like a magazine. After I started to read, I kept losing my
place and missing captions because thee book had been so badly and irregularly designed;
it was nearly impossible for my eyes to follow the flow. Keillor kept pointing out what I
was missing and didnt seem to understand that the problem wasnt in me, but in the
books design. I came to a part that showed a half dozen coffins and other gruesome
photos and mentioned World War II, with half-hidden captions in odd, hard-to-find places
among the photos. I began to think the material was inappropriate for the program. I also
knew I would never be asked to appear again.
I was in a room with a couple of sleeping children, presumably serving as their
babysitter. A night lamp began to crackle and to streak like a Jacobs ladder. I looked out
the window and saw a bright light moving around in the sky; in a few moments I could
make out a figure in a space suit tethered to it. They looked unreal, like exceptionally well-
drawn, 3D-style cartoons. I was concerned about the lamp starting a fire and concerned
that one of the children, now awake, would touch it and told them not to, but at the same
time I didnt think I should unplug it, either. I thought, I am really having a UFO
experience and kept closing my eyes against it. The experience seemed real, but the ship
and the figure did not.
30 April 2007
I received a taunting death threat from someone who seemed almost supernatural
because of the way the threat was delivered and the terror it inspired. I dont think I did
anything about it other than to try to be alert.
It was the night before a wedding I was to attend, and I was staying in my parents
trailer. It was unfamiliar in every way, and when I looked into their bedroom I noticed that
the bed seemed very small in the very large roomthe opposite of what it should have
been. It took up perhaps one-quarter of the room, whereas it should have been difficult to
get around it. I felt confused and disoriented by everything I saw.
Naturally, I was restless and could not sleep with a supernatural death threat hanging
over me. I heard someone come into my room, and I flew out of it in terror after briefly
considering attacking. It proved to be a male colleague, who was to share my room.
I looked out the front windows or door, hoping to see the police watching out for me
even though I had not notified them. I did not think they could do anything even if they
were. I wondered if I should call them, but Im not sure the phone was working.
Something, perhaps a noise, put me on the alert, and I found myself behind a plant in a
room full of plants. The killer was going through the room systematically and gleefully
killing all the plants with a spray. I held my breath, which I sensed was a futile act because
the killer didnt have to hear me to know I was there. The plant-killing spree was for my
benefit.

I waited, trying to decide what to do. Finally, I sent poisoned darts into the killers head
and chest, which had no effect and only confirmed my presence.
I heard two shots; they came from a .45 my brother was aiming. He had shot two
women, one blonde, the other possibly brunette. I dont think that either of us was sure
that the two women were the killers.
I think we had turned on a light by now. The two women did not seem quite alive or
quite dead, and I sensed a malevolent presence waiting for me to let down my guard. It
was in some way an anti-life force, and I never knew why it wanted to kill me specifically.
4 May 2007
I was at home in a room next to my mothers. It was very odd because either her room
or mine seemed to open onto a courtyard so that part of it seemed to be outdoors.
I used the far stall in the bathroom, which was supposed to be the dirtiest but was in
fact the cleanest. All I noticed was that the water was a little high but for some reason this
seemed to indicate cleanliness rather than a backed-up toilet.
I found myself at a large hall, although ultimately my destination was elsewhere. I
discovered that a childhood friend was to be remarried. I wondered what happened to her
husband and children as I had never heard anything about a divorce.
The hall was large, white, and packed with people. There were few decorations, which
seemed unusual. Everyone was drinking while waiting for the wedding, although the
gathering looked more like a reception. I was wearing a long, elaborate dress, which made
me think of bridesmaids. I looked for and saw women who must have been the
bridesmaids; they were all short, stout, middle-aged, and remarkably coarse and ugly. I
thought that these must be her new friends from work and that they had displaced me and
her other old friends.
She came along and offered me a drink, but first she held her champagne glass under a
nozzle. Outside the walk-in box that this apparatus was in, someone was pumping a
button to fill her glass. She went out and pumped for me, although then she started to hold
the button down. When I realized how it all worked, I didnt want it.
Outside the box, the crowd was thinning rapidly. Someone spoke, but was inaudible.
The minister tried to speak, but his voice was hoarse and squeaky. Someone commented
that he shouldnt be a minister with a voice like that.
I spotted some people from high school and risked walking over and trying to talk to
them. I was surprised that I recognized them so easily and remembered their names, but
when I addressed them they would look at me oddly. None of them knew me. My
excitement faded, and I wondered when the wedding was to occur, who the bridegroom
was, and where the first husband and children were; it was almost like they had never
existed. I also had a nagging feeling that I was supposed to be on my way to another place,
somewhere outdoors or away from wedding halls.
I found an exhibit of mannequin-robots who represented the presidential candidates.
All of them looked young and fashionable, and the only one I recognized was Barack
Obama. He would speak now and then, and people were gathered in front of him, sharing
their excitement. I noticed his neck looked mechanical, like two bundles of cords covered
with plastic skin.
The hall was nearly empty now; even most of the classmates had left. I still waited for
the wedding.
30 May 2007

Pinecroft, Pennsylvania
I just read John Polidoris The Vampyre and wonder if it influenced this mornings
dream. On the surface, there is no resemblance to the story, but I awoke with a vaguely
uneasy sense about the dream that reminded me of the storys mood.
There was not much action or plot. I was a young woman who was lame, perhaps from
polio. My left hand appeared to be affected as well; without warning it would convulse
into a curled claw painful and ugly to behold.
I dined out and went to the theatre, and was attended by an older man who was
unfailingly solicitous. He did not go with me, but would appear at my side after dinner or
the performance had begun. He was never more or less than kind, and although I found his
attentions somewhat strange and disturbing because I did not know what motivated them,
still I looked for and enjoyed them, and feared their loss.
My half-awake conscious mind began to influence my dreaming one. It accepted my
youth and uncharacteristic active social life, but it questioned the disabilities that were the
apparent cause of the mans seeming fondness for me. I did not remember having polio,
nor becoming lame from it. As for my hand, I knew I have signs of arthritis in both, but that
did not explain why it would be normal at times and contorted at others.
I felt I must be a fraud, but did not remember becoming one intentionally. I was
terrified that I was and that the man would find out and have nothing to do with me. I
stopped going out. I waited and waited for this man I didnt even know or understand, and
even mistrusted, but he never appeared, and this made me sad. At the end, I think I was
whole again, except for the arthritis that I actually have.
It occurs to me that I was lame only as long as I saw him and that that was his hold
over me. When I stopped going out, it broke his hold and cured my infirmities. Yet I found
myself longing to be infirm and cared about rather than whole and lonely.
That dynamic surely explains many, many controlling relationships.
1 June 2007
Pinecroft, Pennsylvania
I was visiting friends when a child insisted on going to see a particular performer. I was
reluctant, and there was some discussion among others, but finally it was decided that
everyone would go.
We walked outside, and although we were in a semi-rural area I soon found myself on
the sidewalk of a busy urban street. At first I did not know where I was or where I was
going, and then I remembered that the performer was at a theater up the street that Id been
to before. I turned around to say something to the others, but they werent anywhere to be
seen, either behind me, ahead of me, or at the theater. I realized that they had driven
somewhere else while I had walked and that I was separated and lost.
I think I must always be going in the opposite direction.
*****
I remembered suddenly that I was to take some kind of college-related exam on the
subject of Japan. I thought this odd because I dont have any in-depth knowledge of Japan
and couldnt imagine why or how I would take such a test.
When I arrived for it, I realized there were only 15 minutes of it leftand that That
Boy, my competition, was also taking it. I had brought a new Rhodia pencil, but when I
tried to use the normally black eraser (before even writing anything), it proved to be a
bright, almost impossible, shade of pink and broke off immediately.

My panic rose even more when I saw the questions, which mentioned what seemed to
be Chinese place names. I had 15 minutes to complete an important test about Japan with
Chinese place names, which mattered little because I could not answer questions about
either. With That Boy there, undoubtedly earning a perfect score, my academic
humiliation was complete.
So ends another panic-filled dream related to college, from which I graduated in 1983.
I wonder how much more dream angst I will suffer over this old fait accompli, not to
mention That Boy. Surely life has offered more interesting challenges than that.
7 June 2007
It was a dark, cold, wet day, and I was in the school cafeteria. While I was eating, my
cat (I am not sure which one, or if it was a different cat) was lying on my plate, also eating.
I was a little surprised that no one commented, but it seemed natural.
I remembered that I was supposed to meet someone in the cafeteria at the other end of
the building. I went there and told her I had to return to the first cafeteria for my food. I
found myself on a bus and explained where I was going, but the driver, who had seemed
to understand, started taking the others on the bus home. I panicked and pleaded with the
driver, who ignored me. Everyone else helped me by calling or e-mailing the principal. He
wasnt available, but his senior administrative assistant ordered the driver to return.
The weather must have improved. Outdoors on the grass, someone brought me an
enormous slice of cake that fell apart when they tried to slide it onto a plate that was too
small that was on the ground. A little flock of birds waited with anticipation, but it was a
little yellow one that was entitled to share the cake with me. A huge dollop of icing
remained on the ground.
9 June 2007
I was at the bottom of a round, improbably deep pool (well?). When I looked up from
the depths, I saw a zebra racing around the top edge. With each lap, it would reach a point
at which it would stop so abruptly that it would nearly lose its balance. I was terrified that
it would fall and be injured or killed. I also wondered if my looking at it was startling it and
causing it to nearly upset itself at the same point in the circumference.
Then the pool was suddenly normal in depth, and the zebra was gone.
15 June 2007
Last night I was so tired that I reluctantly cut short an online conversation, read a page
or so of The Ultimate Hitchhikers Guide, fell asleep on top of the covers with the 200-watt
light on, and remained in that condition until 4:00 a.m. Im sure that I dont get very good
sleep that way and that the light bothers me subconsciously.
After I drifted off the second time, after turning the light off, I dreamed that I went home
for no particular reasonthat is, not for a reunion or other occasionand that everything
seemed both different and familiar.
Under the trees was an elaborate shopping area with displays of high-end goods such
as quality watches and fine china. I wondered what happened to all that stuff when it
rained, then I saw that it was enclosed under a roof in some way that made it look like a
fancy mall.
Suddenly something struck me that must have been on my mindthat there would be
no possibility of seeing That Boy during this visit. Although I must have planned the trip

that way intentionally, I felt a sickening wave of disappointment that I would not see him. I
believe that I didnt want to see him because of the invariable humiliation of being ignored
or, worse, unnoticed, yet of course I wanted to see him to satisfy some ill-defined hunger.
And then I did. He was there, near me. I half-hoped he wouldnt notice me. He didnt.
As for the other half-hope . . .
13 July 2007
I was in a huge banquet hall feeling lost and alone among all the people. I recognized
some from high school or college, but I didnt know any of them well enough to approach
and ask for a seat. I debated with myself about how they would react, and was petrified
that it would be with either anger or, worse, indifference.
I saw a boy, D., who had been in a college band I knew and had accepted my online
invitation, and I offered to perform with him, but his eyes slid over me coldly as though he
had no idea of who I was or what I was talking about.
Then I fell in with J. S., a girl from my high school home room, who was staying at the
hotel where this gathering was being held and who said I could come to her room while
her husband was out.
Her room seemed very odd, and when she said she was going upstairs, she climbed
rungs built into the bathroom wall. This seemed dangerous to me, and I realized that
ascending them was something I could not do.
When she came back, I noticed there was a red, ropy pole from the bed to the ceiling,
as though it were a support. I remarked that I had a canopy bed in my room (which I had
just remembered). This pole, it turned out, was the arm of a genie in a bottle, and now she
wanted him to serve as a clock. She told me to set him, but I could not get the syntax right
at first. Finally, I said something like Oclockthree, and the arm that wasnt holding up
the ceiling snapped to the three position.
She and started to play some kind of typical board game, like Monopoly, using the bed
as the board and characters like the genieliving, breathing, whimsical creatures.
The details of what she took for granted were remarkable in every way, yet I kept
thinking that this was very ordinary way to pass the time that I could do on my own and
that perhaps married or sociable people like the ones downstairs at the banquet did not
have private lives that were any better or more interesting than my own. I did not find this
revelation reassuring, and it did not make me feel less forlorn.
7 August 2007
I was in a college dormitory with my parents (who were not my actual parents) and a
female student (who was not my roommate). The room was small and dark, and, although I
thought it was supposed to be private, there were three single beds close together at angles
in a corner. The area started to remind me of the trailers extra room, with its heavy orange
drapes closed. I felt vaguely puzzled and disturbed.
I found myself wandering around outside and realized that I didnt need to be at
college at allthat I already had a degree and could not afford to take another year of
classes just for the sake of it. I thought perhaps I was there to earn a masters degree, but I
couldnt be sure and didnt know what it would be in.
I could see two people dressed in 1950s clothes in a 1950s-style room, fighting. They
may have been my parents in the dream. It looked like a scene from a B-movie. My
imagination left them for a while, then returned, dreading what it would findI expected

to find the woman strangled. Instead, the man was lying partly sideways across a sofa, his
eyes open, quite dead. The woman was half lying, half sitting on a chair, her eyes closed,
but she was breathing faintly and regularly and seemed to be coming around. I was
shocked yet not surprised that she had been the victor and that she had killed the man. I
realized that that was what I had really expected.
11 August 2007
I was in a park or forest, and the little girl whom a former boss had just adopted had
wandered off mysteriously. Because the forest was so large, there was a general panic that
she might never be found.
I looked down and found an underground building, where I could see the girl through
a window. She was standing complacently in a hallway, perhaps waiting for someone. I
did not know how to approach her or to tell everyone where she was without spooking
her. She seemed to know where she was and why.
Then, with no transition, I was watching a theater performance taking place on an odd,
round, elevated stage in my hometown. I wanted to perform, too, but some of the
characters on the high stage were riding camels and elephants, which seemed dangerous
under the conditions.
I began to realize that, although I liked the idea of the performance, it lacked passion
and life. I didnt recognize anyone around me and developed a strange feeling. I saw
someone sneak out the door, and it occurred to me that I wasnt supposed to be there,
either. I tried to slip out unnoticed, but a woman spotted me and told me coldly, almost
inhumanly so, that I had to leave because I was not a member (and leaving it unspoken
that I could not aspire to become one).
Outside, I remembered how alone and out of place I had been when I had come to
Chicago, as I still do 28 years later. Now my old home was strange and unwelcoming to
me, too. I had nowhere to go, and the weight of sadness crushed me.
13 August 2007
I was supposed to see the general counsel about some changes, but when I found her
she was in an obvious hurry and ran off waving. I couldnt remember which community
the changes were for.
When I got home, my blinds were down, and I thought my dad must have closed them
because I couldnt recall doing so.
Dad drove to a friends house to return something, perhaps a key, but when we got
there either I didnt have it or couldnt find it, or the friend wasnt home.
At home, I took the elevator to my apartment, but I might have forgotten to push the
right button because I found myself on the roof. There was something surreal about the
place and the elevator.
Next, I ended up in a swimming pool on the fourth floor. When I tried to get out of the
water, I discovered that I had no clothes on. I couldnt return to my apartment like that, but
the person in charge, someone I knew, was both perplexed and sympathetic. We found a
sheet and towels for me to use for coverage, but they would keep falling into the water and
getting wet. Finally, I put on a T shirt that was too small and which covered very little, and
then it was time to panic because I didnt have any apartment keys.
I was at the first day of college and recalled that I had been given a teaching
assignment about which I knew nothing. I reassured myself by thinking that it was on

Tuesday (the following day) and that it could not possibly be on the first day; my own lack
of knowledge confirmed that. I worried that I had no idea what I was teaching, or when
and where, and then it dawned on me that I was unprepared.
16 August 2007
I was at what appeared to be a family party, only I didnt recognize the family. As it
was dusk, I wanted to go out for a walk or bike ride, but a woman who was not my
motherperhaps an aunt?kept warning me to be careful. I had to leave.
I found the men in the shed watching television; again, they didnt seem to be my
family, and my dad wasnt among them. The shed itself was unusual because it had
windows like a car. I began to wonder how the old shed, put up almost 40 years ago,
could still be around. When I went out and walked around it outside, I saw that it wasnt
the shed; it was the van, but there were overhangs over the windows. It had to be more
spacious inside than out.
This made me look up at the clouds, as did some others. I saw that one area was off
white or yellow, in the shape of a lacy butterfly. It looked like a coincidence, but soon the
whole cloud changed into a complex pattern of lacy angels that could not be coincidence.
It was apocalyptic. The conversation turned to the names of the four principal angels, and
all I could think was, Gabriel, as I watched the lace cloud in the dusky evening sky.
18 August 2007
It was a lovely sunny day, and I was walking among the hills in the open woods. I was
happy. Then I became aware that a corporation had just declared war. I ran to avoid the
strafing that began with my awareness.
My brother was playing football somewhere and was even more exposed. I could see
him with my mind and tried to warn him.
Some details forgotten.
19 August 2007
A flash of lightning, perhaps combined with a sensation of feeling cold and restless,
woke me up between 3:00 a.m. and 4:30 a.m. Before or after that, I dreamed that I was
staying with an aunt (not an actual one) and that there was something uncomfortable about
the situation, despite the appearance of a serene household. This was undone when a
sheriffs car, light flashing, raced up to the house. I was shocked because I could not
imagine why. I saw my aunt then, who told me triumphantly that she had obtained a court
order to remove her and her daughter from the house, her proving to be a sister-in-law.
I did not know in what way the woman was offensive, but the angry face of a man
appeared in my mind, and I thought, He must be my uncle; he will be angry, and I dont
want to witness it.
I was in the garden leaning over some ground cover when I spotted a chick that had
soiled itself, with the down missing from the dirty area on the right side. It appeared to be
ill. Not knowing what to do and being afraid of scaring it, I held up my finger. To my
surprise, it readily hopped up onto it. It seemed to be preternaturally intelligent and to be
trying to tell me something. I took it to a man, probably a gardener, who cleaned it. I
returned it to the same spot in the ground cover. Later I found it soiled again in exactly the
same way, like it was a sign.

This was to be my last day at my aunts house, and I found out that everyone had been
looking for me urgently because my father had become sick and had been placed on
hydrogen. I couldnt find him anywhere, and I couldnt think of what was wrong with him
that hydrogen would treat. It sounded serious. I felt scared, both that something would
happen to him and that the situation was so odd that I hadnt known he was there and I
couldnt picture him.
I came to an area in the house that was like a nightclub. The Beatles and an Indian
group with one of my former roommates were below me. He and I started to talk about
another roommate, but the Beatles chided him for talking to the customers.
Their act involved what they said was a magical Eastern practice of placing people into
bags, hanging the bags up, and setting them on fire. I didnt want to watch. Despite myself,
I could see a woman in a bag as clearly as if it were transparent, not opaque, and she
appeared to be unharmed somehow. It was too surreal for me, and I had to leave.
I began to look for a bathroom and only then realized how large my aunts place was. I
found jewelry and other shops, and a salon. Then I discovered my aunt and uncles private
quarters, where I hoped I would not be caught because I was under the impression that I
was not to know about the extent or nature of the property or where they lived. The
quarters had portholes, and I began to wonder if this werent a cruise ship rather than the
New England house I had thought. Now that I had an idea of its size and weirdness, I
didnt want to leave. I also worried vaguely about my father; I still had not seen him. I was
afraid of what I might find.
24 August 2007
To my surprise, I found myself in a lifestyle class at work. I took my old Titanium, the
only Apple in the room, to the back rowand there he was, That Boy. I tried not to notice
him, and, effortlessly, he did not notice me. I was suddenly very happy. I was telling
someone that a comprehensive lifestyle program had been my idea years ago, but it had
not been the right time so the idea was squelched. Another boy, Ken A., tried to pass me
an impossibly hot pan, but although everyone else looked because he was teasing me,
That Boy, sitting with him, did not.
The movie presented yellow alligators in an eerie twilight monochromatic setting,
encountering and attacking one another. I appeared on screen during a discussion of
venomous snakes. I was lying on my stomach as two or three very tiny venomous snakes
crawled across my naked backside. As they passed my face, my hair somehow fell forward
onto them. Although I was sitting in the classroom, hoping to be noticed or not noticed, I
did not know what had happened after that or if the snakes had been startled and bitten
me.
25 August 2007
As often happens in my dreams, I found myself in a surreal high place, with no idea of
how I got there or why, but with the impression that it was my home.
A potted plant sparked a memory, only I did not know if it was an old gift from a
former lover, or a new gift from a long-ago one. I hoped for the latter.
I had to wash my clothes in a queer machine that was silver and turned like a drum, or
perhaps like a dryer. I filled it with clothes. Because I had only a few things left and there
was a mysterious sense of urgency, I overfilled it. It was on a slope, and clothes and

perhaps water tried to tumble out with the pull of gravity. Then it abruptly retreated uphill
on a wire-and-pulley system; by what agency I do not know.
I had to lead a pregnant woman, J., down from this aerie via very steep, uneven steps
made of books. Because they could fall over when stepped on, it was extremely
precarious. At one point, we had to step up, which was even more dangerous.
We came upon a very narrow, short step, and I knew that if I stepped onto it the books
would scatter, and I would fall. I appealed to people in the library I could see far, far
below, but they replied only that they did it all the time. What happened next I do not
know.
31 August 2007
I was at home and decided to go for a long walk. The day was perfect for it, as I was
thinking as I headed down Route 20 toward Camp Road.
The sky before me darkened as though a tornado and thunderstorms were imminent.
The suddenness and darkness were terrible and apocalyptic. I was too far along the road to
turn back and beat the storm, so I kept walking, toward it, and found myself in town at a
low ranch-style house wrapped around a corner. Lush vegetation everywhere made the
whole area dark.
I knocked on the doorand my brother answered. I am not sure he recognized me as
he showed me around, but at least I had shelter in this house, which was dark inside.
During the conversation or my looking around, I discovered that my fathers cousin lived
nearby in a similar house.
I felt disoriented as my brother talked and the storm approached (or raged?), and none
of what I saw or heard made sense.
1 September 2007
I was lying on the floor of a large, bare room at least three stories high. It came to me
that I was an agent, my partner was dead, and the villain, Orson Welles, was
contemplating whether I were alive or not. He was regarding me from high up and seemed
deceived, although I could not believe it since my breathing, even though controlled,
seemed obvious to me. He and others left me for dead.
After a while, I cautiously found my way out of the room. I remembered that my
colleague and I had been sent here to find out what was going on. She had been killed
when we were captured, but I was stunned only.
As I was examining one of the yellow industrial drums that seemed to be everywhere, a
group of four or five women came along, chattering. They paid no attention to me or my
clearly suspicious behavior, and did not question me when I joined their group. I put a
plastic bag that I had pulled out of a drum into another one nearby that seemed to be full
of liquid nitrogen. Instantly mutations popped into my mind. With a sense of horror, I
thought that I would now be responsible for one.
The women, who were workers, seemed to be able to go anywhere. I clung to them for
safety, answering that I had not seen a particular movie when they asked.
I did not know what I was looking for or what I was seeing. Thoughts of the dead
colleague haunted me. Then we came across a man, a scientist, with pieces of something,
including blue and yellow membranes. He told a large group gathering, including mine,
that he was going to reconstruct and bring back to life an enormous (and unnatural) spider.

I watched with horror and fascination as he did so. A sixth sense felt that I was being
surrounded and would be trapped again.
4 September 2007
I was on a bus full of people from work who are below the AVP level. I knew this,
although I recognized only two of themthe director of projects and the applications
manager. They told me that we had been at the Palo Alto community to work on resident
documentation.
I couldnt remember being at the community. I couldnt remember flying to California.
I did not know why these two would manage such a projectthe nature of which I
couldnt imagineor why so many people from so many disciplines would be involved. I
couldnt remember getting on the bus. All this continued to puzzle me, along with the fact
that I didnt know anyone else.
The bus was barreling over a series of hills, complete with steep slopes and twists and
turns. The time seemed to be on the cusp of darkness, the tricky dusk during which so
many accidents occur.
To add to my sense of disorientation, the bus was misdirected several times by signs,
lines, and barriers diverting it dangerously across multiple lanes of traffic from the far right
to the far left, or into impossible areas that made no sense.
On a steep downhill slope with curves, I saw the driver leave her seat and disappear
into the back of the bus. I didnt know how I could get to the seat in time to prevent a
catastrophe, even if I could get control of the steering and brakes and could figure then
out.
I found a middle-aged woman had taken over and felt relief, but then she left, too. By
now, I had noticed there were no accidents even when no one was driving. The next time I
spotted someone driving, a middle-aged woman with a particularly frowsy permanent, I
said without thinking, You could get pulled over and into trouble for driving without a bus
drivers license. I heard someone agree and someone disagree. She left the seat, but I still
could not take over. The repetition of the circumstances, and the murkiness behind them,
made it nightmarish.
10 September 2007
In the middle of a hotel hallway I ran into my old group from my old firm having a
meeting. I looked around. While most of the faces were new, of course, a few were
familiar. A few were there who had left before I did.
I was looking at a display of boxed tchotchkes, mostly pens, when one of the old office
managers, apparently recognizing me, told me not to take any and hinted strongly that I
should leave. I had some papers and one of the tchotchkes in my hand, but I didnt
remember taking it; I think someone who had talked to me had given it to me. I tried to
hide it from her in the papers. Her attitude seemed unduly belligerent and offensive, the
opposite of mine. I was mainly curious.
Then a young man was introduced whom I knew to be a temporary administrative
assistant. His computer screen was projected; it was a simulation of a battle. His side went
into retreat immediately and could not recover, and I was embarrassed for him since he
was supposed to be an expert. The person who had introduced him said, Consolidate
your forces! so he rammed them altogether on a beachhead at twilight in a massive
pileup.

I remembered what had been said of me (I was told) when I left, that I had walked out
abruptly, without warning or notice, and how no one had believed such an obvious
fabrication. I still resent it.
3 October 2007
Our food and beverage department held a Thanksgiving Unstuffed event for
employees, but I felt out of place and confused. There were two or three long tables; one
was surrounded by women I didnt know speaking a language that I didnt know, and
another was empty for no discernible reason. I didnt know where to go. Then I found that
the strange women had moved to the empty table, but somehow nothing else was
available.
Someone asked me to stand up and speak about my past as a benefits consultant, but I
didnt know who would care or what I should say. In addition, two boyish young men
from outside spoke and mingled with the people standing, but I did not know them or what
they spoke about. They seemed to be oddly cheerful and somehow out of place. One of
them gave me a businesslike hug before I left.
Later or the next day, he saw me on a bus and made a point of talking to me. He was
different in some way, still cheerful but more authentic in behavior. When I went to get off
the bus, he commented that I could not get away from him so easily. The hug he gave me
this time was not at all businesslike, but earnest and intense.
I could not help but mull over who this strange young man was, what he had meant,
what he wanted from me, and why he had singled me out for what appeared to be unusual
attentions. Then it flashed on me that he had also kissed me passionately and urgently. I
could remember only the fact, but not the act itself no matter how hard I tried. I wondered
if I should want to see him again, but I was afraid to because I was so unsure about what
had happened and what was meant.
4 October 2007
[Private]
29 October 2007
I was a David McCallum-like spy or professor, and my assignment was to train or teach
a young womansomething. I didnt know what.
When she arrived, I told her that my sense of geography was not good, but that
somewhere in eastern Europe, perhaps Romania, we had lobbied to install an
experimental pig farm and finally had won our way.
In case she had missed the obvious point, I said, Of course, we dont need a pig farm
there when we have the entire Midwest. I did not know if she would be able to complete
the thought. The pig farm is really an opportunity to keep an eye on the Russian missile
program.
She left, and I stood in the window on the second floor, watching the evening rain,
wondering what I had been talking about, and thinking, Why Romania?
4 November 2007

I suddenly knew that I was in another class with Wayne C. Booth and that I was a
failure in it, as I had been before (in this dream). As I was about to leave for home, which
(in this dream) was Yonkers, New York, I found out that I knew nothing and had no credit.
Mr. Booth was kind and told me that if I went into an online folder (or something like
that), it would make a difference. I also got it into my head that I needed to get a certain
history textbook. But I had to leave by 4 oclock or I would never get to Yonkers(?). As I
wandered hopelessly looking for the right place to buy the right history book, I found
myself in what looked like a club, an area of neighborhood stores, and the like. I realized
that I would have to leave straightaway if I were to be able to go home to Yonkers, with no
luggage, no clothes, no toiletries, perhaps not even a purse with money.
Confused, lost, and panicking on every level, even as I went from store to store, place
to place, and finding myself at what could have been a regional airport, Mr. Booth was
somehow there, reassuring me over and over again of his confidence in me as mine failed
utterly.
I did not want to wake up until I had lived up to it, unlikely as it seemed.
13 November 2007
I fell asleep around 11 oclock, and by 11:30 had woken up twice, the second time in
terror.
I was at my parents new house, which seemed strange to me in some undefinable
way. I saw the room I slept in only in the dark. As in many houses, the bedroom had only
one window, and there appeared to be a storm going on. Finally I roused myself and
looked with great effort at the strangest storm I had ever seen. Random flashes, but not of
lightning, and wind. The setting and the storm seemed apocalyptic, and after noticing that I
didnt like the flimsy curtains I wanted new ones to shut it out.
I found that the room was unusually large and that half was separated from my half by
a large bench. There was a piano in the other half, which to my surprise I played expertly
and beautifully. I found myself composing amazing works on it and marveled how. But I
noticed the piano was also a fountain. While this was fascinating, I wondered where the
many strong streams from it were going to and what damage they must be doing.
Later I found myself in this same half room with an older female relative. I learned that
this was not part of my bedroom, but was a separate sitting room. A cat jumped upon a
pile of yarn or material; the cat was blue and white in a distinctive Delft pattern. I
remarked on the weirdness of this as I petted the cat and ruffled the pattern, but my female
relative said that its common. I was slightly afraid of it, although it seemed like a normal
cat.
Perhaps it was the next night when a friend showed up with an entourage in my room.
He wanted to take me somewhere with his group. I wanted to go with them, but
inexplicably I closed my eyes and wished him and them away.
Then I was washing dishes in a kitchen that overlooked the street directly; it was
straight down from the window. A couple I knew in a convertible stopped at the red light
and chatted with me. This put me into a great mood, so when a silver-gray man came out
from under a manhole cover, looking up at me with expressionless eyes and face, I smiled
at him at first. Then, as he came toward me, staring with dead but determined eyes, I
sensed that he was evil and that I should never have smiled at him. I dreaded his relentless
approach even as his features became seared into my memory. I closed the screen door
and locked it with a hook, then panicked as I tried to find an inner door with a dead bolt.
My terror grew.

I woke up at 11:30, frightened and freezing.
2 December 2007
In the early morning, I looked down at the parking lot, which was full of mud and
empty of cars. The mud was on the street, too, where the few remaining cars were parked
haphazardly and were disappearing rapidly as little clusters of people came out and drove
them off. I wondered if there had been an apocalyptic storm.
I noticed that I was looking down from an unusually sharp angle and what seemed to
be a tremendous height, far greater than that of my 12th-floor apartment and probably far
greater than that of the 18th floor. I felt even more disoriented and disturbed.
As it was early, I wasnt dressed. I walked into an unfamiliar, contemporary, posh white
room, and then another, before realizing that all the apartments must be connected and
that I had entered those of neighbors. I was lost. I heard voices and tried to avoid them but
was terrified lest they come upon me in my nakedness. I wondered if they too were nude.
Then I was at a baseball park, where I was half of a renowned pitcher-catcher team.
We were known for throwing home runs, as though that were a really difficult and
desirable feat. But we were cheats. To keep the fans happy and cheering, we started to
pretend wed heard the crack of the bat and that we were watching the trajectory of a
home run ball, time after time. As I did so again, guiltily, I saw the enormous head of the
Statue of Liberty loom before me as though she had appeared to remind us of the great lie
wed begun that we could not seem to stop.
3 December 2007
I was an African or cinereous vulture out of my element, hungry, and ill equipped to
capture prey in the environment in which I and my mate found ourselves. We were
desperate.
A bus came by; I knew that my human mother was on board. I got on to ask for her
help, although it was difficult to explain the problem. Suddenly, it occurred to me that I
was a vulture on a bus full of humans and that no one had noticed. There was something
magical about it, as though time were frozen for all but me and my human mother.
6 December 2007
I was in the hallway of a hotel, attending a high school reunion. I wondered if anyone
would treat me any differently since I thought I looked better with the new glasses; perhaps
they gave me a new persona. The fact I was alone in a hallway didnt bode well for
socialization, however.
I spotted a group coming up the stairs toward me and recognized many of them, but I
could not remember their names. One or two of the group recognized me and seemed to
feel sorry for me as they invited me out for drinks. I accepted, but didnt know where to go
to meet them, and then they were gone. Although I had dreaded it, I regretted the lost
opportunity.
I found Pudge, who I knew to be Pudge although she was now an orange-white stripey
boy like Hodge, and took her to the park where I could be depressed in peace. The first
time I called, she came. Then I was distracted by someone and forgot about her. When I
remembered her, I panicked because of the traffic around the park. I called, but this time
she didnt come. I kept calling, and still she didnt come. I found her pinned by a medium-

sized, collie-type dog. With difficulty, I shooed off the dog, which made its owner
unhappy.
I found myself in a car with a driver and two people behind me. I did not recognize
any of them from school and felt vaguely menaced by them. A man behind noticed my
discomfort and said something to reassure me that wasnt reassuring. All the while I was
wondering if I would ever see the people I really wanted to, one in particular.
7 December 2007
My apartment, not this one, was dark and oddly free of clutter. I filled the sink to the
top with water and detergent, then talked to S. A. online. He mentioned water, which
made me think I should check on the water in the sink. It was still there, but there were
enough puddles on the drain board, counter, and floor to make me think that there must be
a leak. I couldnt find any cause, but the more water I wiped up with paper towels, the
more water I found. Finally I looked up and saw water marks on the ceiling and wall
behind the sink. I debated with myself what I needed to do firstgo to the bathroom or
call the manager.
Mixed up with this were memories and feelings associated with the tiled entry area of
the old Loblaws in the old South Shore Plaza in Hamburg, New York, where we used to
run into friends while grocery shopping. I tried to remember what it looked like and to
recapture how it made me feel; in some intangible way, the lighting, the tiles, and the gum
ball machines, combined with my impressionable age, made it a special area.
Then I found myself outside on a street watching electronic billboards with the stock
prices of Loblaws and other grocery chains. I looked for Tops and Super Duper, too.
My dreams are becoming a little too closely and obviously derived from part of what is
on my mind these days.
13 December 2007
My friend and I had to get to the car and came to a tangled embankment that we had
to climb. The harder we tried to climb it, the more tangled and difficult it became.
A little girl came toward us along the top of this embankment. She was confident in her
movements, but I could see that the board she was reaching for was broken so I held my
hand out to steady or catch her. Instead, my gesture made her slip and fall precipitously to
her death. I could not get over my guilt, although nothing seemed to happen as a result.
I found myself in a strangely crowded street or neighborhood of workshops. Ive
forgotten many of the details of what happened, but I learned that my brother was selling
the actual visas and passports of real people, and everyone here accepted this as a normal
venture. With the certainty of righteous anger, I stood up and yelled, You cant traffic in
citizenships! Some of the presidential candidates were in the area, and I appealed to
them. Confused, they scoffed.
It occurred to me that all this was fictional, or should be. I looked around the area,
which was compact, crowded, and surreal in aspect. I thought, This is California, but
where are the vineyards? The names Danville and Danby occurred to me, but they
seemed too mundane and American for the setting and for the kind of story that I thought I
had to tell.
14 December 2007

I was visiting a friend. D. W., whose childhood home was now nothing like I
remember. It was fantastic in every way.
I walked into a room that was like a bridge at just above water level over a beautiful
stream overhung by lush trees and vegetation. For a long time, I basked in the beauty and
the feeling the perspective gave me, and wondered at how anyone could live so
nonchalantly in such a house without being mesmerized by this fantastic sylvan view and
the feelings it evoked.
I found myself in the living room, which the stream bisected. While indoors, you could
walk in the stream, or soak your feet in it, or just admire it. It was so lovely that I could not
stop telling D. W. how moved I was by where she lived. Prosaic soul that she is, she was
both bewildered and bemused by my emotional response to something she experienced as
an ordinary, everyday part of life. She asked me when I had become so blubbery over such
unimportant things, as though I had changed. I told her that when I had gone to college I
had spent most of my time and money taking photographs, even skipping classes to do so.
[Not in reality.] She gave me a pitying look even as I looked longingly at the stream
wending its way through the living room and under the room I had been in earlier. It
lapped around the house, which did make me nervous.
At this point, I had to go to the bathroom, so I started to look for one. The house was
enormous, although it had a cozy feel, and I came to an odd wing with open bathrooms at
several pointsopen, with no doors. Somehow I knew that this was where her brothers
lived, so I was reluctant to use any of them and expose myself more than I already had.
They and their friends found me and asked about a sweater I was wearing that looked
similar to one of their mothers. I took it off and looked at the tag; it was from a different
store than hers.
Suddenly, I was someone from work, who said he was expecting a visit from a former
employee who had been terminated. I liked the former employee and said so, although
later I realized that this would make me look bad in the same way as my emotion about
the house on water did.
21 December 2007
I was on a bus that fleeing a city on fire. The bus itself seemed to be on fire, with sparks
flying out from underneath. I kept trying to get the driver to stop because I thought that the
bus would set fire to the surrounding countryside. The sparks seemed to diminish as we
progressedbut where were we going? And who were we?
At last we arrived at a destination somewhere, and I handed someone a cup or tin that
was on fire to set in water, someone we all thought trustworthy. At the very last moment, I
caught him trying to set it down on a flammable wooden table and snatched it from him,
barely in time.
We found that one of our friends, a woman, had no head. Someone who seemed to be
a leader said that, to get it back, she must pilot a certain craft whose engine had never
been started. Until this craft was ready, we had to guard it very carefully against use.
Meanwhile, there was something disturbing about the headless woman beyond the
obvious.
Finally, it was the night before the crafts maiden voyage. We were stressed and
strained from the close watch wed kept on it for so long. In the wee hours, though, there
was a commotion where the craft was housed, and, to our horror, we thought we heard the
engine startingcondemning the woman to an existence bereft of her head. We flew to

the craftand found the woman herself trying to steal it. We learned we had been
deceived by what seemed to be pure evil.
13 January 2008
Lately Ive been remembering only snippets or ideas from dreams rather than details. In
one last week, I was shocked to learn that my brother is James Bond, but I couldnt ask him
because it didnt seem natural to ask a spy if hes a spay and because in the back of my
mind I thought I was James Bond. He also seemed more like a stranger to me than my
brother, although I would experience moments of familiarity.

In another dream, I was a passenger on a bus where odd things were happening and
which seemed to go nowhere even as it traveled. Although it was a tour bus, it would stop
regularly at bus stop signs like any municipal bus. I wondered why I was in it.
Sunday I was the leader or part of a team delivering lawn furniture and ornaments to a
family. Their house was familiar to me; I had been in it before, I recalled, and it was not
what it appeared to be, but was a place of space and time shifts. Our lawn furniture and
ornaments were not what they appeared to be, either, and one of us, perhaps me,
apologized to the man of the house for the lateness of their delivery and tried to convince
him of their normalcy by selling him on their superiority. Look, we told him, You
wouldnt expect something like this to reflect and shine [this seemed to be an important
property], but its made of a special material that has the reflective qualities of metal.
They looked to me for proof, and I searched frantically for a flat reflective surface
among the pieces in my load. There was a crescent of one on some kind of tray or
ornament with a Christmas theme. I became fascinated and never learned if any of this
fooled the man, or what the stuff really was or why we needed him to accept it.
It seems I dreamed a week of intrigue and subterfuge.
15 January 2008
There was an unsolvable water problem with my apartment, so the manager and I
agreed that I should move out.
I woke up one morning in a strange place, with trees and shrubs hiding buildings
across the street. My new apartment seemed odd in some indefinable way. I ran outside in
my nightshirt in my excitement because I was at street level. As I reached the end of the
drive, I remembered that I did not have the keys with me. I thought I would be outside in
my nightshirt for a long time, but a group of elderly people appeared and tried clumsily to
open the outer door. I yelled for them to wait for me and to let me into the building, but I
dont know how I got into the apartment.
Suddenly, it hit me that I had left behind my view of the lake, and I began to agonize
over whether it really had been necessary. I kept looking around at this interesting and
somehow magical place, and at the street view, and wondering if I had made the right
choice. In my heart, I felt I had made a mistake of a lifetime.
Out of the blue, a friend called to explain a situation. I was wary, but he wanted to
come over. Somehow he managed to, and we found ourselves in what looked like a dark
school hallway. Nothing made sense to methe place, his presence, what he was saying,
why he was saying it. I was more confused and frustrated than happy.
18 January 2008

At a high school reunion event, I was shocked to see TB and TW talking together at a
table in the pub. I had been thinking about going to the bathroom and leaving, so I put on
my green nightshirt without thinking, stopped nonchalantly at their table, and made some
pleasantry about it being good to see them and where were they these days? I spoke in a
careless tone as though I didnt want to know, really. To my horror, the second man was
no longer TW, but a stranger in red. TB told me that he was living in North Carolina. I tried
to think why but didnt ask.

I needed to go to the bathroom desperately, but couldnt fit through the small squared
crawl space to it. I didnt remember it being like that; I would not have gone to a place
where I could not get into the bathroom.
I crawled through another space to my room, where I found one end of it was shared
with a man I knew but whose name I could not recall. I was embarrassed to be seen in my
nightshirt, which I noticed I had put on, but brazened it out and went to his end to speak to
him. He seemed surprisingly receptive to conversation, which I found disturbing. I
retreated to my part of the room, and he soon followed and sat next to me.
[Unrelated personal bit snippeddream changed direction abruptly.]
24 January 2008: The surreal move
The house I was in, made of brick and as large as The Flamingo, was about to be
moved to a spot a mile or two away, although I was under the impression it would be very
different.
I never left the room I was in, but as time passed I puzzled and wondered how such a
large house could fit onto a truck and be moved in one piece. Every now and then I would
sense that it was about to topple over or crumble from the stress of the movement, or be
knocked down by a bridge or in an accident.
The journey seemed to take hours, which bothered me quite a bit because of the
distance. I fretted about the stability of the structure, the time it was taking, and an
appointment I was committed to keeping and was close to missing. I felt that I wanted to
miss it.
I remained oddly passive, awaiting the buildings fate and my own, which never
seemed to come but which hung out there like a poisoned carrot on a stick.
27 January 2008: Labyrinthine locker room and reunion
This time I was at a college reunion.
I think this began in an underground locker room, where I was looking for a swimming
pool and a bathroom. It was deserted, probably closed, and some of the passageways were
very tight. Part of me wanted help, but part of me did not want to be caught.
The place was eerie in an apocalyptic way, quiet with small noises, dark, cavernous
but close. I was alone as one can be, even though at one point I think a former gym
teacher offered to point me in the right direction.
I found myself in a large, dark wood room, probably a banquet hall. It seemed to be a
reunion of my college class from the University of Chicago, yet I recognized nearly
everyone around me as a member of my Frontier Central High School graduating class.
There was one girl in particular, Paula, who I have not thought of in 29 years. I looked
around and saw more and more people Id known from high school, even though I have
proven bad at remembering and recognizing them in real life. They were neither friendly

nor hostile toward me, including Paula. I said to her, How strange. I went to a university
that I thought no one else would go to. I didnt see any of you during the entire four years,
yet here you all are.
I asked one boy, name unknown now, what he had majored in at the University of
Chicago, and he said, Aerospace. The answer threw me off, so I asked, The engineering
side? He gave me a distant look and a vague answer. Aerospace didnt sound right. I
became confused by all of these improbabilities and think I may have wormed my way
through narrow passageways back to the underground locker room. It was less
disconcerting.
28 January 2008: Dangerous feelings
I was in a workplace that I didnt recognize and was called into a room with co-
workers I didnt know for a preview of training we had signed up for.
We were told to assess our personalities by writing down words that describe
ourselves. I found this to be very difficult, but eventually came up with four or five words; I
think one of them was feeling, which I thought was cheating because of Myers-Briggs
and INFP.
I kept looking for J. C. from work because I thought she would know about and could
explain this exercise, which made no sense to mepicking a few descriptors subjectively
isnt a personality assessment, and I was under the impression that it wouldnt go much
beyond that.
When we had come in, we had been assigned to seats, and now it was announced that
there would be assigned seating for lunch for perpetuity. J. C. may have arrived by then,
but even her calming influence couldnt keep me from becoming hysterical. I couldnt
believe what was happening and that I was to be forced to spend every lunch hour with
the same person or people every day. It seemed unbearably cruel, and I was torn between
anger and despair.
A group of us was taken somewhere to tour the grounds. I noticed that what appeared
to be a spotlight in the ground was tracking our movements and opening up as if preparing
to fire. I pointed this out to the group, and a young man told me to take most of the group
to higher ground. Something happened, although it wasnt quite an explosion, and when I
looked back and down, it appeared that the earth had fallen in, but the fate of the young
man and those who had stayed to help him was unclear under the settling dust.
Then we were inside, and I was on upper floor looking down into a laboratory. A girl
stood on the other side of a window, laughing and apparently waiting for the group to
move on. I noticed something in the lab turning toward her, and before I could do or say
anything, it had attacked. She was gone, leaving behind a white harness. Someone
explained that she had gotten too close to the window and that a security system in the lab
had detected the harness, which was a tracking device. Everyone found that they were
wearing one.
This story seemed too pat for mewhy endanger people without warning?and I saw
the enforced lunch seating in an even more sinister light. No one else seemed perturbed by
these incidents, but I could feel danger everywhere like a tangible presence. Perhaps that is
what I had meant by feeling.
2 February 2008: Transparent pregnancy

I had gotten it into my head that I wanted to make love with man I knew who seemed
willing but reluctant and sad. There was something odd about him, but I could not figure it
out or why I was so driven. He warned me again that I would regret it but would not be
more specific.
The next thing I remember seeing is what appeared to be transparent film with a pucker
in it, which, to my horror, I realized must be the mark of where his penis had been before
being pulled out by the root. The film was all that was left of him.
As for me, I was encased in transparent film. I knew now what he had tried to warn me
aboutthis was pregnancy for his species, for which he must die. And I was trapped.
5 February 2008: The demon lover
Im not sure where I was; it may have been a small, quiet social gathering. There was
some odd business about throwing a bottle or glass of wine into the air. If it landed one
way, one thing would happen or be true; if it landed the other way, another thing would
happen or be true. I didnt understand the two ways a bottle or glass could land.
I struggled with the how and why of this decision-making technique and didnt know
what was being decided. What was going on?
I found myself in a dark, cave-like setting, lying under a man I sensed to be a vampire
or a demon. I could see observers and felt rather than heard them ask me to make a choice
between staying with the vampire-demon and coming with them. I was reluctant to go, but
horrified that I might have sold my soul to dark powers. I said something wonderfully
poetic to them that amazed me with its beauty and poignancy. I think I chose to stay.
It was such a real and powerful feeling that I knew even in my sleep that I didnt want
to write about it when I woke up. My fear of those dark powers was that great.
I was at a concert on Hilton Head Island, where the entire audience was covered by a
sheet of white plastic so that they couldnt see anything. This was intentional. The featured
performer was Ricky Skaggs, whose name I know and whose face and music I dont. I
stuck my head out from under the plastic to sneak a look and saw that he was in white
face, almost like a clown. The longer I looked, the more he resembled a clown. Perhaps
that was the reason for the plastic coverto protect his image or the audience from it.
Meanwhile, I was still disturbed by thoughts of and desire for the vampire-demon.
I overslept, hoping to see the demon lover again.
8 February 2008: The eerie banquet hall
Note to self: Stop dreaming about banquet halls. Theyre boring.
I was in a large banquet hall, but it was neither full nor noisy. My chair was at the
front, on the floor, facing the audience, so I did not think I was quite an honored guest. I
didnt know who I was, why I was there, or what my role was to be.
I left to look for the bathroom, which had colored terrycloth towels. When I came out,
a white towel was draped over my arm, like a waiters napkin. Somehow, this was
supposed to be part of some comedic business, almost as though my playing a waiter
would be funny in itself, given who I was. Although the room wasnt empty, I dont think I
saw or heard anyone. The sensation was eerie.
There was more, but I may have blocked it.
9 February 2008: Subterranean house maze danger

I was at a trade association meeting, which was being held in an old manor house (not
a banquet hall). I spotted a woman from my high school graduating class who had visited
my classmates.com page recently, although we had not known each other then. I tried to
be friendly with her, probably because I didnt know anyone else, but either she didnt
recognize me or she pretended not to know me.
Distraught, I wandered off and through twists, turns, doors, and stairways that I later
couldnt remember, I found myself in the decaying bowels of the old house. At one point I
was looking at where part of the house seemed to be rotting into an earthen bank, and
somethingdirt? a piece of the house? a rat or other animal?fell away and downward. I
was startled and frightened and very alone. No matter what I did, I seemed to go deeper
and deeper and to get more and more lost.
It occurred to me that something dangerous was hidden here. Several times I found
steps or stairs, but it would not be clear whether they were going up or down, and down
seemed to be fatal.
Somehow, I came to a brighter, less decayed part of this subterranean world and heard
voices and machines. I envisioned, and even may have seen evidence of, an underground
war plant.
By now I knew I would be in danger if I were found. Finally, I came to a place that
looked like a dusty cellar or basement, with food and clothes in storage, where I was
discovered, although I couldnt see by whom. Oh, I was looking for the coat room, I said
sheepishly and genuinely enough, and they seemed to believe me and took me back to the
meeting. They did not seem to realize I had been underground and seen much, much
more.
There was a sexual element involved at this point, but Im not going to go into that.
10 February 2008: Dad and the snow glass
Before we knew quite what was happening and could stop him, my elderly father had
climbed up onto a chair to get something out of a kitchen cabinet. The chair tipped over,
but all that fell was a clear glass or stein, decorated with predominantly blue winter scenes
and three dimensional snow like some of glass ornaments at the Christkindlmarket. We
had never seen it before, but miraculously it seemed to be intact. Where was Dad?
I noticed then that the stein had broken into three unevenly sized pieces whose edges
were polished instead of having the cloudy look of broken glass edges. I was nearly
hysterical because I was afraid for Dad and somehow knew that he was part of the glass.
We could restore him if only we knew how.
I appealed to Virgil, but couldnt tell if he understood me. I went outside into the
snowy night to find help, perhaps from the skies or wind or trees.
11 February 2008: The meeting of the mountains
I was looking at a cliff of shelf-like rocks, each of which was named after a mountain,
for example, Mount Sinai. I tried to understand what I was seeing because it made no
sense. I knew but did not believe that all the mountains of at least the Middle East
connected here somehow. It should have been enlightening and the answer to a lot of
questions, but it was strange and disturbing.
I found myself in school, headed toward what looked like a botanical garden display of
plants and trees in a natural setting, not at all orderly. The teacher was telling us to have
lunch, then, with the rest of a smaller group, to talk or write about the calming beauty of

this display. She pointed out a half dozen tiny trees behind us that some children had
planted, and someone noted that one of them was a straggly dandelion towering over the
rest.
There did not seem to be enough time for lunch and the assignment, despite the nature
of it, and I did not know who my group was. I walked off with a girl I knew. When I turned
around, I saw P. H., a quiet friend from grammar school. I beckoned to her, and she caught
up. I introduced her as P. H., but suddenly I could remember the first girls first name only
(and cant remember even that now).
I dont know why I introduce them; they knew each other. They seemed to be mutually
jealous or suspicious, and suddenly I felt that I was missing something and had done
something wrong. Between the lack of time and the tension, what should have been an
easy, pleasurable assignment had become stressful.
12 February 2008: Sickening anguish
I dont feel well today, and I meant to get over it this morning and to be at work by
noon. I couldnt, as it turns out, and so I am home for the day.
Dreaming was not therapeutic.
I was at home with my dad, and family and friends. The place and the people were not
from my memory, but I loved them as though they were real.
There was a tiny room, perhaps mine, with peeling paint and plaster. I tried to find
where the water was coming from, but it eluded me. It was unreal.
I was overcome by a terrible, wrenching anguish that worsened with time, and I could
not stop crying. I needed comfort, and there was none. My father in the dream mocked
me, insulted me, treated me with contempt, and finally ignored me as though I were not
there. So did everyone else. My anguish only deepened, and with it their contempt for me.
I was no longer human, and there was no end in sight.
When I finally woke up out of this nightmare, I could not face another one. Yet this is
not much better.
17 February, 2008: Danger from the robot siblings
Virgil and I were at a carnival and volunteered for an act. We were placed inside a
structure like a water tower. It was strange because we did nothing, and no one could see
us.
Suddenly there was a light and a mechanical voice calling, Clear! When the
excitement was over, Virgil had disappeared, and the panel to the outside wouldnt open. I
understood that something was about to happen in the tower that was dangerous or life
threatening. I saw a woman at some controls and knew her to be a robot. I asked her what
was going to happen.
The chamber is about to be flooded with [unrecognizable chemical-sounding name
beginning with a t], she said.
I asked if it were harmful, and she answered, It will burn your lungs and sting your
eyes, but it will not kill you. Do not breathe it.
How long will it last?
Several minutes.
But I cannot not breathe for several minutes.
She shrugged subtly and left as she had enteredmysteriously.

I banged the door with my fists, but this only hurt my hands and made little noise, and
there was no answer. I took off a walking show and slammed it against the door
repeatedly. It made a little more noise, but no one came, and although I had a sickening
sense that the robot woman had lied about the gas, I realized that all I could do was to see
what happened.
I dont remember the gas, except that I took her advice and breathed as little in as
possible. It burned and stung a little, but not remarkably.
The robot woman returned finally and this time let me out. I had a flash of insight that I
had been punished for being too slow to grasp the meaning of the Clear! warning and
how to act upon it.
It also flashed on me that the robot woman hated me, so I asked her point blank. As
she fiddled with the controls, she said, I liked you well enough at first.
I continued to look at her questioningly.
The more you talked and the more you worried, the less I liked you, she said both
coldly and passionately. I tried to recall the conversation and what had turned her to
hatred, but couldnt remember meeting her. I senses that she hated my emotions and my
honesty about them.
I got out and saw her talking to her robot brother. I couldnt hear their words, but I
could hear in my mind the one important thought that I needed to act on. She seems to be
all right; wait until next weeks newspaper comes out with the photo of her with Clark
Kent. But I was not Lois Lane, and I knew of no such sexually incriminating photo. I
knew, however, that they could produce one if they wished, and that the public would
accept a fake as real even knowing the ease with which it can be done. I didnt know what
to do.
I noticed that when I breathed hard (with the emotional excitement), a fog came out of
my mouth and enveloped people and things in its path in what seemed to be a harmless
cloud. I experimented to make sure that it was really my actions and not coincidence. I
confirmed that I was the cause.
I had a creepy sensation that the robot siblings were watching my every move and
would be able to hear my every word if I spoke. At the same time, I was certain that they
did not know that I had overheard them and that I was producing the odd fogs and
clouds. To test this, I followed the robot man discreetly and enveloped his head and
sometimes his followers in a cloud. I sensed his conviction that this was his own doing.
Satisfied with my tests, I sought help about the newspaper threat fromVirgil? Clark
Kent? (I didnt know him.) Someone else? I dont know; I thought I talked to someone,
although Im not sure how I evaded the knowing eyes and ears of the robot siblings
(perhaps the clouds I produced hid us?). I do not know if the fabricated photo was
published. Most important to me, I do not know why they hated me and my honest
emotions so.
23 February 2008: Torso terror
I lifted the covering of an object on my dressing table and found a replica of the upper
half of my torso. I tried to remember where it had come from.
I recalled that I had common gadget that would duplicate simple objects and that one
day I had pointed it at myself. It had created this duplicate, which I had put aside to deal
with later and somehow had forgotten. As I looked at it again, it frightened me.
It was perfect in every wayit looked like human flesh (I couldnt bring myself to
touch it), and I could see blue veins under the surface of the skin, which had a healthy,

living glow. Worse, the half torso was solid; I knew that if I touched it, I would feel warmth
and bones and would sense the organs underneath.
In the back of my mind I knew that this was incredible discoverythe ability to
replicate entire body parts with a simple gadget, and that I should try to duplicate the
effort. If I succeeded, I should announce the result to the world, or find a scientific team
with which to work to explain it.
But all I felt was horror and fear and the need to get rid of the half torsomy half
torsoas quickly as possible.
If I duplicated what had happened, I thought only that I would have two horrid half
torsos to eliminate. If I failed, I would wonder how it had really come about, which was
another dreadful thought.
I re-wrapped it and considered my options, a thought process hampered by my horror
and terror.
I couldnt throw the half torso into a park district trash bin; someone would find it, it
would be traced back to me, and I would be suspected of murder. I knew that no one
would believe the only explanation I hadeven I wasnt sure that I did.
I thought of burning it, but I couldnt do that unless I put it into a bag along with
charcoals in a way and in a place that looked like I was having a barbecue. For some
reason, I thought even this would look suspicious, and I also wondered about the smell of
burning flesh and the possibility that human remains still could be found in the ashes, even
if only charred bits of bone.
I was still pondering the problem, which seemed impossible, when I woke up. I
realized then the illogic of a partial torso, which I also now knew to have been half or two-
thirds sizehow were the ends sealed off? How did the organs function, if they did? What
kept it alive? Was it alive?
Now I also wonder if my fear was really of being caught, exposed, and punished, or if
it was of destroying something that had been part of my being.
6 March 2008: The asylum
I was a young inmate in an asylum, trying to get out. My escape depended on two
creatures: a felt-covered bird and a felt-covered frog of the type that was sold as
decorations or ornaments in the 1960s. I did not know how to use them, and when I found
the frog on a desk I let it kiss the bird, which it devoured.
Somehow I was given another chance, this time with a frog, bird, and insect. My gut
feeling was that the three animals were parts of a key, but my experience had shown that
when they kissed (which I thought necessary), one would eat the other. I figured out that
the frog would eat either the bird or the insect, the bird would eat the insect, the insect
would eat neither, and in the back of my mind I wondered why the bird couldnt eat the
frog.
In the dream, the object seemed to be to keep all the animals alive or whole while
getting them to interact, but when I woke up I realized that perhaps the devouring was part
of the plan.
Before I awoke, the dream changed perspective. There was no longer a me, but there
were three girls: one older, one younger, and one perhaps in between in age who had just
arrived at the asylum.
Despite the massive size of the building, the individual cells were tiny for no clear
reason. The young girl was lying in bed reading, the oldest one may have been standing
and eating, and the new arrival was speaking of her disdain for their comforts, books, food,

and chocolate. The two girls hastened to assure her that these things, small comforts for
people under normal circumstances, would assume new importance to her in her new life
after she had settled in. She was adamant that they would not.
The young girl, who was looking at a magazine, suddenly felt a doubt about her
position. She could not remember what she had just read; when she re-read it, she realized
that it was not worth remembering. The older girl seemed to experience a similar doubt
about her own stand. Perhaps they were wrong after all.
12 March 2008: Headed nowhere, with threats and warnings
It seems that I had rented a car, and co-worker, someone I knew in the dream but not
in life, got in and offered to drive. I had mixed feelings about this.
Another man appeared, although not literally. That is, I sensed his presence and could
hear him but could not see him. He had figured out my secret and was teasing me,
threatening to make it visible on the screen of a notebook computer. I could see the lid
moving back incrementally the more he got into it. He was tormenting me, but he was
intrigued as well. I was bemused, annoyed, and only mildly interested in him.
The driver turned a corner on what I thought was the University of Chicago campus,
although nothing was familiar, and there was little to see. His turn was far too wide, and
the car leaped half onto nowheres sidewalk. This appeared to be a problem because we
were approaching the end of the sidewalk and the beginning of a raised edge. A policeman
gave the driver a ticket, I thought, but it proved to be only a warning. I wondered how a
ticket would work since the rental car was in my name.
We turned down a country road with many strange obstacles. I worried about the
driver, the warning, and the invisible man and his continued threat to expose me.
Never did I wonder where we were going or why.
15 March 2008: The virgin spy
Its best not to go into details, but this mornings dream was about spies, mountain
passes, and shape shifting. At one point, I was both a young virgin and the older man who
was fighting his desire for her (me).
To save myself, I had to play the accordion, which I was sure was one of my talents. I
could not make it work, perhaps because I was holding it with the keys top and bottom
rather than side to side. I could not right it, either.
In the middle of all this, I had a moment that was both intensely sexual and intensely
terrifying, and although I was panting and struggling to breathe I could not wake up.
23 March 2008: The spiral staircase
I was at an event or party and was trying to get to a particular part of it, but the only
way down was by an impossibly narrow spiral staircase, not even wide enough for two feet
at a time. The man stationed next to it told me, You could do it, but it will be difficult and
even dangerous.
I went home to find the mailbox knocked over, which shocked me, and papers
scattered all over the grass. Some were mine, while some were related to my mothers
health care. I returned to tell her what I had found and that I had collected everything and
put it into its proper place.

When I came home again, I found my Bible opened, pages down, in the yard. This
frightened me because it meant someone had been inside this time. It bothered me that
they had singled out the Bible my mother had given me.
As I retrieved it, I looked around, expecting to see woods but then remembering (from
a dream long ago) that everything had been replaced by houses. There were one or two
large trees remaining, and I tried to recognize one of them as the one directly behind the
yard, in the middle of a thicket that had always seemed mysterious to me. This tree,
though, was too far over to have been the one.
25 March 2008: Sensitive plants, broken glasses, and nude nurses
It was night, and I turned a corner in a room like the caf at work and ran hard into a
man who was at a counter.
Instead of saying anything, I lightly touched one of the fruiting stalks arranged in a
nearby vase, and several of them wilted. Then I noticed that my glasses looked odd; there
were plastic flaps that made no sense and extra temples. I went back to the counter area
and found the frames, which confused me because what had the flaps and temples been
attached to? I noticed then that the glass (not plastic) lenses had broken into impossibly
thick pieces. More and more confused, I didnt know how to explain myself to the man
who was still at the counter. I could assume only that I had broken the glasses and
somehow torn off the frames when I ran into him.
Curious about its reaction, I touched the stalks again, and more of them wilted. I had a
sense that they might recover but couldnt understand why a touch bothered them so.
Observing me, the man said to the stalks, It began on your wedding night, when Opal
wouldnt leave you alone.
I saw nurses preparing a lavish room or rooms for a patient. One of them, perhaps me,
was taking photos and video of the preparations. Some of the nurses were nude, and while
the film and video never captured this directly it would show in mirrors when the nude
nurse passed in front of them. I was at a loss as to what to do to prevent this, but had to
keep taking the photos and video.
27 March 2008: Batgirl
I was in a room full of silent, hostile men, but I never found out what was wrong. Like
them, I had to wear a costume, so I found myself dressed as a giant velvet bat.
Despairing at the futility and stupidity of it all, I put my head down on the edge of a
sofa or bed and wept uncontrollably. I could not stop myself, but none of them was
moved.
They would refer to each other and to me only by last name, even the man who came
in for a drink. I had never felt so dehumanized and so hopeless.
31 March 2008: Cabin fever
Alone in a cabin in the woods at night, I had a sixth sense that I was in danger. I
checked out the cabins layout. It had a wraparound deck, which made it easier to break
into, but even worsethere were no real locks, simply tabs that could be opened from the
outside with a little effort. They were so rudimentary that I realized that anyone could get
in.
As if to prove my point, a man opened the door as easily as if it had not been locked
and came in with his family. They were not the danger, but it occurred to me that they

could have brought it with them. As I was mulling what to do and the family was
chattering away, one of the children said to me, Why arent you wearing your hearing
aid? while pointing to it. I did not know that I had one, and I started to feel like a stranger
to myself. I looked out into the darkness, apprehensively.
When I sat down again, I saw a snake enter, and I warned the family. I didnt know if it
were venomous, so I tried to describe its markings; the brown, green, and red colors were
patchy and without a pattern. The snake seemed preternaturally intelligent, coming straight
for me with purpose. Then I saw that it could not be a snake, because now it had fur, four
legs, and ears; now it looked more like a long, thin fox. I was becoming frightened because
I had expected the danger to be human. When I looked again, the snake-fox was indeed
human and was claiming to be checking up on me.
I didnt believe him.
1 April 2008: Lawn bowling for monster-gods
I was with a man and a child and being threatened by a monster-god who was
electrical in nature. He seemed to suspect our presence, but for some reason I didnt
understand he couldnt see us.
We knew we were in terrible danger and that the only way to avoid the monster-gods
notice was to roll a ball between us so that it would not lose contact with the ground while
rolling but would hit one or the other of us (not the child) at the end of each roll. At the
same time, any kind of movement might attract his attention. All of this frightened me
because the condition not to be seenrolling the ballincluded the condition to be
seenmovement. It was a dilemma.
I faced the monster-god, which made the situation more horrible for me because I
could see his reactions, if any. I would have to communicate them to the man somehow.
The man raised his arms, at which the monster-god raised his. I trembled in fear. The
ball never rolled; it bounced, and the monster-god seemed to follow its erratic up-and-
down movement. It never went straight; it veered off in different directions, which the
monster-god seemed to notice. The more I saw of this, the more I was convinced that I was
being toyed with and that I was doomed.
I feared the man and child, too.
3 April 2008: Duel
I was in an auditorium, where two people from IT announced that they were going to
talk about the Web site. They gestured to me to join them, but I was unprepared. Had I
known about this presentation? Had I forgotten something so out of the scope of my day-
to-day drudgery? I stood, but remained off to the side so no one would notice me and the
IT people would forget me.
To my surprise, they called upon audience members to come forward and play a game.
They showed video of passing scenery shot from an aerial perspective; the object was to
guess the location of the destination before the video arrived at it.
A young man was the first to be called. His video began in what like a tiny country
village with a prominent, almost medieval church. I thought that it might be France; the
destination might be somewhere like Arles. The young man was no more successful than I
in his guesses. Suddenly, the aerial journey ended at an urban island that everyone guessed
to be Staten Island. It was too large, I thought, and I was sure it must be Long Island even
though I was puzzled by the skyscrapers.

The young man tagged me to play next (so much for my inconspicuousness), but the IT
people said that I wasnt part of the audience.
I dont know what happened nextperhaps I failed at somethingbecause I was told I
had to duel someone, using real weapons. I was given a long pole with a semicircular
blade. This seemed too easy, and I wondered what the catch was going to be.
For a long time I did not see my opponent or know what his weapons were, but he
proved to be a large, bald man with brass stars and other throwing weapons. I did not want
to hurt him, so I poked him gently with the blade. It made no impression on him. I
wondered with suspicion if the blade magically softened or deteriorated at the edge with
each blow, which would have been a nasty trick. I became more cautious.
In the meantime, the man threw his starsbut not at me. They never seemed to strike
the intended targets, who were people I know and like. Finally, he walked toward me (I
was frozen in terror, Im sure), then veered toward a young man. He used the edge of a star
on the young mans face and neck. Paralyzed and horrified, I was powerless to stop him. I
thought he was going to slit the mans throat, but he made a line in the skin that barely
bled. I did not know what to think or do, and I felt guilty.
6 April 2008: Ruined
I was in the front row of a classroom, waiting for the professor. When he arrived, he
made an announcement. I could not understand what he said, but the students behind me
seemed to think he wanted them to introduce themselves. When they started to, he
thundered at them, What are you doing? I became upset because to me it appeared that
he had misled them or that he was overreacting.
I remembered that I have a degree and wondered why I was there. I looked on a
schedule and found that I was enrolled in two full years of classes and that the first course
was on Potato. All of this was clearly a waste of time and money, and I dreaded
canceling my classes, telling my parents, and packing and moving home again. Had I not
been through this before.
I went to my room, which was like a warehouse. A stream of water was pouring from
the ceiling. In a panic, I went to someoneperhaps my mother?and told her about the
water and that something must be done right away. She looked at me angrily and said, Its
all much worse than you realize. Its more than you. Take a look around. I did, and now
there was water pouring down in this room, another warehouse. It was bare, and all the
ceiling tiles were missing.
I returned to my room; I had a hunch I would find the same conditions there. It felt a
little like an apocalypse or that we were traveling backward in time, and the condition of
the building reflected a regression from the contemporary to the more primitive.
I could see that my life was ruined and felt the waves of despair begin. Again.
8 April 2008: House fires
I was returning with someone to an enormous brick manor house, which we saw was
on fire. The fire, with flames leaping out of windows and into the sky, was somehow put
out quite easily, and I walked around the house to survey the damage.
There was no damage.
There were no scorch or water marks, no burnt timbers, no structural damage of any
kind. Even more interesting, the rooms, including mine, were bare. I loved this place and
became afraid for it.

We would leave and return, each time to find the house on fire. It was always empty,
and there was never any damage. The fire was always extinguished mysteriously and
quickly.
Something must be causing these fires, I reasoned, perhaps an electrical problem.
Some people volunteered to stay at the house to keep watch over it. Although they lived in
it, too, I became suspicious of them.
I got into the car, cramming myself into the corner to make room for the many others I
thought were coming. Were going to pick up your cousin, J., the driver, a registered
nurse I work with, said. Thats it. I heard and understood her but did not believe her. I
did not want to leave, and looked back fearfully at my beloved, empty house.
16 April 2008: The treetop road
With other people, I was searching the house of a dangerous man when we heard him
return. The others escaped, but I had an idea that I could stay behind and observe him
without his awareness. I sat in a chair, sure that I would be unobserved.
He saw me the moment he walked inand behaved as though it were normal for me
to be there.
I did not know what to do; I did not know his name. I began to try to catch a cat that I
had seen, an activity that he seemed to find unexceptional. I began to wonder who I was to
him.
Several times I climbed a ladder that ended in an upside-down V nailed to a rafter and
commented that it seemed difficult and rickety, possibly to hide my inability to get off the
ladder onto the rafter. The upside-down V was beyond my physical ability to master.
Now I was outside in what I thought to be my old backyard at home, with a single old
tree in it. The actual yard had had no trees, but I wondered what had happened to the rest
of them as if it had.
My dad came along and offered to drive me. We did not follow a surface road, but a
miniature one made of wood that wound through the treetops. It seemed narrower than the
wheel base of our van, which made me nervous. At one point, it rose at a 90-degree angle,
so that it was like driving up a dry waterfall from the base. At another point, the road split
off into an upper and a lower branch. The latter was low and close, but we took it anyway.
My dad executed all these moves adroitly, but I was petrified from fear.
There was a house near the exit of the estate, and a crane was swinging another one
into place across from it. I took these to be the homes of relatives and did not know why
they should clutter our pristine grounds.
Dad and I were riding a train between the cars, but it did not appear to be especially
dangerous. It may have been a city or commuter train. It wasnt safe, however, and I knew
the journey was to be a long one, so I moved inside to find a place. The authorities
captured my dad and as I was trying to say they had to be gentle with him because of his
advanced age, I saw them shove him a bit, then debate that they should not be rough with
him because of his age.
I do not know our destination.
17 April 2008: My mountain, my story
I was in a mountainous region such as Alaska. The snow had melted and left behind
sedimentary rock, laid out in smooth, even layers of varying shades of brown, like stripes. I

came in to tell a group (church, perhaps), but went out again with a vague idea that I could
not ascend to the top (although the side was sheer) or find fossils of the ancient seas.
I walked into a college classroom, where everyone was excited because one of my
stories had been published in a magazine. When we leafed through it repeatedly, none of
us could find it. I did spot a recipe with my name, but did not recognize it. Then I saw the
name Diane with a different last name; after some puzzlement, I figured out that she was
the artist behind the full-page illustration. My name and story were on the right-hand page.
I didnt know the story, nor did I read it. The magazine appeared to have a
gardening/housekeeping theme.
I was starting to wonder what the class was about and why I was in it. Again I had the
sensation of, Havent I had enough of this type of education?
At home, which looked more like a large chemistry lab, I was getting ready to
demonstrate something to a group that had not yet arrived, but water was coming out of
various parts of the faucet. I called a maintenance man, who wasnt busy and also wasnt
concerned about the waste of so much water. Ill get to it, maybe tomorrow, maybe, if
theres not a gas leak or anything like that, he said. I could not understand his
nonchalance.
In the meantime, I was alone.
19 April 2008: The drive down Amsdell Road
What a sad dream, and yet I didnt believe any of it was actually happening.
I was somewhere public, with people from the past, and was so despondent that I
could not stop crying. The more I cried, the less anyone noticed me or my pain, which left
me crying all the harder.
I saw people getting ready for a big social event, including a boy Id known in college.
He was a quadriplegic now, but even years later he could not be bothered with me.
Another boy I had known had come along in the back of a pickup truck. He scarcely
knew me then or remembers me now, but in the dream I understood from him, without
words or even looks, that I was to get in. Wordlessly, my high school girlfriends made him
promise that he would return me in time for the big party. One of them began to fuss over
me, dabbing my mouth, face, and even privates with perfume, because I supposedly had
the date of my life for the party, but I knew better than to hope, and I drove her off.
The truck ended up on Amsdell Road. The boy, facing me without looking at or even
seeming to notice me, was singing in a bland, flat tone into something that resembled a
WWII army field telephone. Briefly I wondered if it might be a portable karaoke machine. I
didnt recognize anything he sang and could not follow the words.
Although he ignored me, I had a sense that he was waiting me out, that I was supposed
to tell him why I was so heartbroken. I couldnt, nor could I tell myself.
I spotted a clump of trees along the left side of the road, a sight that made my heart
hurt. On the right side someone was putting out copper goods so densely that the road had
become almost too narrow to be passable. Ugliness was all around, and I cried again at the
ruin of one of the few pretty roads that had been left.
The boy continued to observe me without looking and to wait. I thought that maybe I
should explain the perfume and the overzealous friends, and that I expected nothing like
that. I didnt.
I wondered if he was ever going to bring me back. Even as he sang almost tunelessly
and continued to ignore me, I almost didnt want him to. I thought he might be taking me
to a far better place, as ugly as the journey might seem.

26 April 2008: Zeuss one-night stand
Why do I keep going back to college? What is missing in my intellectual life that makes
my sleeping brain feel deprived? Or is it a social life for which I yearn?
I returned to an unfamiliar dormitory and found a long line of people on the stairs
leading to the basement, waiting to get into a concert. I looked up; a dry-erase board
announced: ZEUS1, perhaps with some other cryptic notes. I knew this notation meant
that he was alone (no other band members) and performing for one night only. I also knew
Zeus was Sting from The Police, although at the moment I couldnt think of the name
Sting.
I spotted two men in the building who looked familiar. One was unmistakable; he
towered over everyone, and his hair was curly. In the dream the other man was familiar,
but I could not think of who he might be.
Are you Gabe? I said to the tall man, noting that he had not aged at all and
wondering if I were in a time warp. He admitted that he was, and I asked him, not at all
hopefully, if he recognized me. He didnt. I was not surprised. I explained how I
remembered him and about my repeated attempts to return to college, even after
graduating. I asked him if he were attending classes. No, he said. Im here for a secret
project that I cant tell you about. Instead of thinking he was there as a scientist, I
concluded he must be a psychology researcher working in a dormitory and speculated
why this would be secret. I also realized that there was a secret message in Ill Be
Watching You that had nothing to do with stalking, but I knew I could not articulate it. I
may have tried.
By now I wanted dinner, but the caf workers had pulled a chair halfway across the
entrance. I did not understand this obvious hint, so a testy middle-aged woman came over
to tell me the caf was closed and to pull the chair more firmly across the entrance. I
thought, Already I am paying for meals I dont eat. I am irresponsible.
I thought of going somewhere elsethe bookstore? another dorm?but realized now
that I was nude. No one earlier had noticed, or maybe I had become suddenly nude. I
wanted to leave but to go outside across streets and lawns and through buildings without
wearing a top seemed risky.
I started to think about why I was there and the classes I still struggled with. I might
never pass or perform to my satisfaction; I might never escape.
13 May 2008: Murder at the infirmary
Together with a lot of other people, I was stacked in a pile at an infirmary to wait for an
operation that I needed badly. The need was holding me there; I wasnt sure I could move.
A large woman got up stealthily, pulled out what appeared to be a penknife, and
stabbed a man in the neck. There was no sound, but I was certain that he was dead.
The woman came toward me on her way out, so I closed my eyes and pretended to be
asleep. My conscience, however, wasnt happy, and, afraid as I was of her, I tripped or
stopped her and woke everyone up with a modern hue and cry.
She did not seem fazed. Without words, I understood that those people on her side
were going to challenge those on mine. This puts the odds with me, I thought, because
most people will choose right over such an obvious wrong. Yet nearly everyone in the
infirmary gravitated to the murderess. The only person I remember clearly on my side was
a co-worker from IT. I felt set up for failure and a growing sense of terror.

My co-worker stepped forward. He proved to be proficient at some martial art,
although his blows somehow never connected. I wondered why the masses didnt get rid
of us offhand, or if they meant to drag out the agony one by one. I could see that my co-
worker was only exhausting himself and that we were being toyed with.
Then I saw that some of the men were dressed as cowboys and were quietly trading
guns. I thought, Why dont they just shoot us then? I wondered, too, if the cowboys were
secretly on the side of justice after all.
The suspense continued.
15 May 2008: Hamster eyes
I dont know if this was one dream or several, or if I am placing the events in the
correct order.
I was with my parents at a diner when I noticed water lapping under the door. Even if
the diner were on the shore, I sensed that we should leave immediately. I was frightened
by what it seemed to mean. No one else reacted.
My dad was driving a van, and I was sitting all the way in the back. I noticed that I
could see lights ahead, but little of the road, and that my dad was driving on the left
(wrong) side. Thinking that the lights were headlights, he had turned on the vans
headlights. I looked out the back window and saw the largest, blackest storm imaginable
filling the sky. With a sense of apocalypse, I realized the lights werent headlights, but
something more dreadful. I turned back to tell Dad to move to the correct side of the road,
but his head had fallen back and was lolling helplessly. My mother was senseless, and I
didnt think I could crawl to the front of the van in time to apply the brakes.
I was walking a hamster on a leash. A couple of boys admired it and said, It would be
a shame if it got awayyoud never get it back. On cue, the hamster escaped, and I was
distraught because a hamster wouldnt have the intelligence to find its way home and
would be just another rodent on the streets. It would run off and never look back.
When I returned home, I saw an enormous cage located off one room. I wondered why
I hadnt used that space to keep a large, charismatic animal, like the horses I could see
across the way. The cage was littered with things like aluminum recyclables. It didnt seem
to be a good home for a hamster.
I filled a basin with water and suddenly felt a sense that the hamster was in it, under
the water. I couldnt feel anything, but when I emptied the basin the hamster was
somehow on the bottom, lying on its stomach, all four feet splayed out, shivering. Its eyes
were looking up at me reproachfully. Relieved, yet frightened that it could still die, I started
stroking it dry and saying rhetorically, Are you all right? It looked at me sadly, huge eyes
fixed on mine, and said, Im so cold and so tired. I kept stroking it and praying that it
wouldnt die.
I was sitting somewhere in Cincinnati when I felt movement, as though I were on a
train. I looked down and found I was flying over the city with nothing supporting me that I
could see. A little girl ran out in front of me; I was shocked to see nothing under her feet.
She was running on air just as I was sitting on it, even as we flew forward. Around and
underneath us, planes, balloons, and weird flying vehicles rolled over and seemed to taunt
us.
The mother told the little girl not to go too far, but she must have run off the invisible
edge of the invisible flying train because she fell. I was horrified and thought irrationally
that I should go after her, but I saw her land safely on a huge, colorful mattress below.

I got off when I saw a tram, like those at amusement parks and zoos. It was decorated
with a jungle theme. I was about to get into the first care when a stern man in safari kit
scowled at me from the second car. I understood that he was the driver and that all the
trams, including his, were full (despite the empty first car). I worried about how I would get
back and how the mother would find the little girl.
17 May 2008: Planes and trains
These are bits from several dreams.
I found out that our community in Maryland has a plane and had a vision, similar to
one Ive had before, of flying in sunshine over acres of green. I saw one of the flight
attendants interviewed. She seemed to love the job, and I envied her. A voice reminded
me that the plane was flown only a couple of times a week and that the attendants were
hourly employees. Suddenly the significance of this sank in, and I could see vividly that no
work meant no money and no control. Still I could not get the feeling of soaring, somehow
silently, over the green woods and fields and hills out of my head.
I was holding an improbable-looking lion cub, all head and mane (?) and very little
body. Although its teeth were sharp and its jaws strong, its bites didnt do much harm. I
was training it not to bite at all so that it wouldnt as an adult. It had a preternatural
intelligence and understanding, and continued to nip.
I saw a small white alligator below. Two large, broad, red-and-black lizards
approached it, and I thought that it might attack them.
The next thing I knew the alligator was dead, with its right rear leg cleanly cut off. Then
I realized it was dead because its head had been cut off, too. I missed what had happened,
but I said to the lion cub, This must be the first time that anyone has seen lizards engage
in tool use! I realized immediately how insane that sounded.
Meanwhile, the alligator lay there, bloodless, the cross section of its stumps looking
white and solid like a mutilated monster in a movie Id once seen.
I was waiting for a train to arrive from the UK. Five or six tracks ended in the grass,
with no stops. I knew that I was responsible for keeping the waiting people from standing
near the tracks. I saw a friend sitting on a concrete bench next to the tracks, which now
appeared to be in a station. I didnt want to tell her to move.
We didnt know which track the train would arrive on, but when the next train came in
the old-fashioned steam engine separated and flew off a dock into water.
20 May 2008: The castle, the lion, and the moat
I was staying with my cousin, who was living in a castle or chateau. It was like nothing
Id seen.
The family pet was a 300-pound Asiatic lion, which at first did not appear strange. He
seemed very devoted to me, following me and sleeping with me like a house cat. One day
he tried to crawl on top of me. Trapped, I remembered being told that he had mauled and
seriously injured a man. I was afraid to move.
The castle had an underground yet open moat. For fun, the family picnicked and
floated on it on a barge. This seemed intriguing to me, given its underground but exposed
location and look, but I couldnt or wasnt allowed to go with them. I may have tried to get
into the water, but usually I was left with the lion. The less I trusted him, the more
untrustworthy he was. He seemed to suspect my suspicions.

21 May 2008: Tripping the light fantastic
I found myself on stage and wearing a long hoop skirt. The play I was in may have
been about Cinderella. I didnt know anything about it, nor did I know my part or
blocking. I sensed that my role was minor but important. I dont know how I got through it,
or if I did. Others may have spoken in my place.
For the ovation, the minor players were supposed to run on stage through a side tunnel
and the principals through a main, forward-facing tunnel. I didnt know where or when to
go, and everyone was too preoccupied with lining up or talking (backstage?) to tell me. It
was almost like I wasnt there or was invisible.
Finally, I got the impression that I was to come down the main tunnel ahead of the
principals. I was so happy that I planned to throw up my hands and blow a kiss to the
world, which is far more demonstrative than I usually am. I may have realized that I was
bidding farewell to something, perhaps high school.
There was still confusion everywhere, so I came out behind the principals. By that
time, the house lights were up, and almost the entire audience had cleared out. The few
lingerers, those who had been trapped in the front didnt notice me. I was crushed with
disappointment, all my joy instantly evaporated.
A friend found me. To get off the stage, we had to climb down through store racks of
clothing. She chattered about a hockey game loss that didnt interest me. I felt like I had
been abruptly plunged back into the mundane world without exulting in any of the glory of
the spotlight. She didnt understand my tears or growing depression. I would never appear
again on stage. Id experienced the anticlimax of my life before it had even begun.
23 May 2008: Pudge and the dead people
I was in one of the infinite, mystical houses that appear in my dreams. The front door
had been opened carelessly, and I was afraid that Pudge had escaped. I might have
reassured myself by searching the house and finding her, but it seemed too overwhelming
a task. When I thought about looking for her outside, I would open the door and see a
landscape blasted by hurricane-strength winds and rain that I couldnt face. It broke my
heart to think of my poor tortoiseshell baby out there. It would occur to me that perhaps
she had escaped just then, each time I opened the door to look. It was an ironic cycle of
indecision and fear.
I dont know if this was in the same house, but I found a room in which various
people, perhaps a large family, stood against a wall, each with his or her head cocked
oddly sideways onto a frame projecting from the wall. It was a horrible sight. They
appeared to have been murdered, with their bodies on display in this macabre way.
Then I saw one of them move slightly, and that was even more terrible and horrifying
than had they remained still and clearly dead.
24 May 2008: Blood and madness
I had had lunch in a multistory mall and was in the bathroom when I remembered that
I had a job interview coming up afterward. I couldnt find my bag, so I didnt know where.
I looked in the mirror and saw that my ruffled white silk blouse was spotted with numerous
dilute bloodstains. I worried less about whether I was injured or where the blood had
come from than about missing the interview.

Even if I could find my bag, which surely would have been stolen by now, I didnt
know where the interview was being held without the papers in the bag. I began to wonder
about myself because normally I research the company and its Web site for any interview.
Finally, I gave up on the interview. I couldnt even call to apologize. I also thought that
perhaps it was not such a loss, that no job like it would be my dream job. I tried to
remember what was in my bag and wondered whether I should be desperate to get it back.
I ran into my brother, who offered to help. The mall was a strange place, dark and full
of odd corners and tiny spaces, more like a fun house than a shopping center. It was a
disturbing place, and I thought again about the bloodstains, although I was sure, I thought,
that it was my own blood.
I found a childhood friend of my brother, who also agreed to look for the bag. Then we
came upon a clerestory overlooking a lower level, where a woman was modeling lingerie.
I thought he might know her and was about to turn to him to ask when I heard the
unmistakable sound of his engagement in a particular activity. I sensed that he was
completely absorbed and unaware of me now. I wanted to escape this awful place, even
without the bag, but did not know how. I was trapped with blood and madness.
28 May 2008: At university with Todd Rundgren
True to a recurring theme, I was at university. Someone asked me why, so I told her
that I worked for a quarter and studied for a quarter, although I did not undertake a full
load. She asked me rhetorically if I had graduated, and I said I had. Although I did not
know her, I recognized her as a former classmate and wondered why there were other
classmates there years later.
In my room I found my former roommate and one of her friends. They struck a deal
with me in which they could have the room to themselves for study in the morning while I
planned to be at the bookstore and at classes that I couldnt remember or find.
The room was long, as though two people might share each end of it, with a fireplace
for each person. I wanted to get a fire started but didnt know how to put one out. Water
seemed inadequate, and I had a vision of it fueling the flames. I noticed then that my desk
in front of the fireplace appeared to be on fire, but it didnt feel hot, and there was no fire
when I opened the drawer. I wondered about putting it out, too, this fire that I couldnt see
or feel.
When I looked out the window, to my horror I saw a little blond boy crash through the
trapdoor of a fireplace in the room above. Even then this struck me as odd because the
second-floor room would have had to extend beyond mine for me to see the fireplace and
trapdoor. Perhaps it was a balcony. To my relief, the boy appeared to be fine.
Some girls tried to connect me with a paraplegic or obese Todd Rundgren (I was never
sure which he was). They wanted to watch, and I was ambivalent about both him as a
partner and about performing in public, so to speak.
At times I would be very hot; at others, I would be appalled by it all. I described the
Todd Rundgren of the dream as 61 and weighing a little over 200 pounds, realizing that
that didnt sound obese. He wore dark glasses. We were left alone, and I was confused by
all the changes and contradictions.
30 May 2008: Rocky Mountain high
I was on a journey and, as part of it, got off the train in Littleton so I could say I had set
foot in Colorado. It was a surreal place, where the sand-colored high-rises were covered

with flat, featureless windows like the set of a 1920s expressionist science fiction movie. It
was ugly, terrifying, and compelling.
I wanted to get away from the station, but the ground was unstable. In the half-light of
pre-dawn, people would take a tentative step forward into invisible holes in the grass. Most
navigated these safely, but I was afraid. Others left across a divide in the earth that
widened to the east of the station and that was higher on the far side than on the station
side. With my purse and shoulder bag, I was afraid to cross it. I began to wonder if I had
had a suitcase on the train that had departed. I had to go to the bathroom, but I felt like I
might be trapped forever.
The word navish or something like it occurred to me as though it were important. For
a long time I resisted looking it up; when I did, I discovered that means military
landscaper. Perhaps I blamed the rent in the earth that frightened me so on a navish.
5 June 2008: Fiery train apocalypse
I was outdoors, perhaps at a farm, and found myself talking to boys from high school.
They had been bullies, but because this was a reunion I hoped they had grown up and
would not torment me. I could tell by their looks and attitudes, though, that they had not.
For an unknown reason, I was compelled not to get away from them.
I mentioned glasses, but realized that the pair I was wearing didnt match the ones I
was describing. I noticed that Eddies were Silhouettes like the pair I was describing, only
larger. To find common ground (or a target?), I mentioned that my dad would never believe
that such small lenses could work, and he said that his father would agree. I felt uneasy,
waiting for him and the others to do something to me.
A black, roiling cloud filled the horizon. I thought that it must be a tornado, but then I
saw that the source was a steam engine. It appeared to be intact, but there was so much
smoke that I thought the apocalypse must be nigh. The engine pulled forward as though to
move the danger away. It was hauling hundreds of boats of all sizes, styles, and colors.
Hundreds of people waved and cheered among the boats like nothing was amiss, then I
saw the clowns among them. Now there was no trace of the explosion and fire from the
engine ahead.
I remembered my own trip coming up in a few weeks and thought, Surely Amtrak
wont use a steam engine, mentally picturing a streamlined diesel engine. Remembering
the uncanniness of the smoke, I was afraid.
6 June 2008: Splintered spying
The killer flatworm and the animated piece of splintered wood first alerted me that this
was no ordinary situation.
I was in a restaurant talking to a man preparing food. A piece of meat tore cleanly, and
inside he found a flatworm that did not look natural. While I wondered how he could be
so calm about finding something so disgusting in the food, whether there were parasites in
everything else, and what I should do, I suddenly had a prickly feeling that this was not
what it seemed. Perhaps realizing that I was onto it, the parasite became animated as he
was starting to examine it.
Awareness hit me that I was a spy about to engage in an extraordinary life-or-death
battle. A flat splinter of weathered gray wood appeared to be my ally and my source as I
struggled to understand what it was trying to communicate to me. This situation, in which
any living thing or inanimate object could become a friend or enemy, was surreal, or it

involved advanced technology. Even as I tried to comprehend this, I saw ketchup bottles
unscrewing their own caps and attacking people, although I could not tell which side they
were on. I was afraid that when they squirted someone in the face, that persons face
would melt.
I was peering into something dark, and dead eyes peered back at me. I could see the
dim outline of a cartoon-like tiger and a black animal. Someone, perhaps the splinter, was
telling me that wildlife was being poached, and now I understood that I had to stop it.
Slowly, subtly, the animals came back to life or were reanimated, and they killed an
entire group of tiny people. When I looked down at the carnage, it appeared to be blobs of
red and green modeling clay, and someone was saying that we had to be more realistic
than that. Could this be a movie set? I felt surrounded by enemies, animal and inanimate.
How could I know who or what to trust in this bizarre world?
9 June 2008: Mbius strip
For a long time Id been walking to the opposite corner of an oval to catch a bus. The
walk was long, and I was often late, but the bus was going in the right direction from this
location. Someone told me (or I may have noticed) that I could go to the nearest corner
because the traffic flow on one half of the oval was oriented one way, then its orientation
switched to the other direction on the other half. I could not figure out how this worked
and kept trying to turn the oval into a ribbon. Perhaps my dream self was trying come up
with a Mbius strip.
I was in the kitchen of a house when I heard knocking on the door. I couldnt bring
myself to answer it, although I could see shadows on the other side of the curtain.
Eventually I would have to let them in. I hoped that they would believe me when I said I
hadnt heard them.
I was in a dark, empty room that resembled a holodeck from Star Trek: The Next
Generation. Across the way, a plane buzzed in from my right and slammed into the back
walls corner. A tiny man ran away down the length of the wall screaming; he may have
been on fire. After he disappeared, there was silence, then a helicopter flew in from the
same place and slammed into the same place. This time, the man who ran away screaming
stopped just before he would have disappeared and fired a high-powered rifle at me.
Stunned for a moment, I could think of only one way to escapethrough the back door of
the trailer. I imagined hiding in the woods, but thought that he could track me down
through sound and breathing. Or did I need only go through the back door? I was
paralyzed by indecision.
23 June 2008: Lost pencils on the bus to nowhere
After lunch (grilled portobello and mozzarella sandwich at Caf Verde), a brief stop at
<a href=http://www.peoplesfood.coop/ target=_blank>Peoples Food Co-op</a>, the
haul back, and some reading and writing on the balcony, I slept and dreamed that, as I was
trying to get up and get off a bus, I noticed some of my favorite pencils missing from my
case. Im under the impression that I held the bus and made a fool of myself by getting
down awkwardly to look under the seats, which I sensed didnt endear me to my seat mate
or other passengers. Then I finally got off the bus and found myself isolated on a quiet
country road. The next thing I remember, someone had asked about the long-delayed
development brochure, and the responsible person had a shouting fit and nervous
breakdown over it.

28 June 2008: Tests of fortitude
The Partridge Family was performing in an auditorium. I liked the music, which was
new. When I saw people with signed CDs, I decided to get one, which required going on
stage during the performance. I felt shy, but steeled myself to do it.
To get to the stage, I had to work my way across two narrow ledges and pick up a
magazine with each successful step sideways. It was harrowing and time consuming, and I
wanted to quit, but it was the only way to get the CD that I now wanted badly. In addition,
this ledge crawl appeared to be the only way to get to the bathrooms.
As I made it from the right side of the first ledge to the left and was trying to figure how
to take the step up to the next ledge to work my way back, I became aware of several
things. First, the audience perceived me as a mentally deficient child who couldnt do such
a thing, so they mocked me. Many of the magazines in my hand were duplicates, which
seemed unfair, and the next one was a silly fashion/celebrity publication in which I had no
interest. I lost track of why I was stuck on the ledge.
I looked up and could see one of my objectives, but not the bathrooms, which had
become unlabeled, moving targets. David Cassidy looked the same as in the television
series, even to his hairline and style, but sometimes his face was worn with the ravages of
late middle age. Danny was still a child as though decades had not passed. Was that
Danny Bonaduce? It looked exactly like him, but surely he could not be stuck in perpetual
pre-adolescence.
The CD had 19 in the title, and I never knew how I obtained it or whether it was
worth it.
I was with some friends in a contraption at the bottom of a steep hill. By the use of
pools or some form of mechanical leverage, we were able to extend our physical strength
to walk the contraption beneath us up the hill. We soon found that it was surprisingly
easy.
As we progressed, to the left and right we could see prisoners performing day-to-day
activities and tasks. Some wore white long johns with yellow polka dots, while others
sported different patterns in various colors. Some were lined up at what appeared to be a
general store, which seemed to be an unusual haunt for prisoners. Others appeared to be
taking care of houses or gardens. As we passed, they would stop what they were doing to
stare at us. It was then that I became aware than I and the other women were naked, which
now seemed to have been a foolish idea on my part. I couldnt understand why we had, at
my suggestion, done something that would leave us surrounded by prisoners, nor could I
imagine why they left such a vulnerable group alone. Suddenly I was afraid.
At the top, I realized that getting down the hill would be the harder task. How could
we control the contraptions descent on that steep decline?
A man offered an elephant to help us. I did not trust the elephant, who looked at me
with preternaturally human eyes. I said that one kind of elephant has gray eyes, while the
other has brownbut then I remembered a third kind, which made my neat point
ridiculous. The elephant continued to eye me in a meaningful way; I could not read its
thoughts, which at the least seemed to bode further difficulties for the group but especially
for me. I didnt know what to do, and again I was afraid. Somehow we began our descent.
2 July 2008: The vampire betrothal and back to school
I needed to go to the bathroom, but the room labeled for women was behind a barrier
so the door couldnt be opened outward. I used an ornament to jury rig it open somehow.

When I came out, a handsome but frightening vampire who I understood to be my
prospective husband accused me of stealing the ornament, which seemed to be in pieces. I
returned the ornament, although I had thought it was a gift, but he still claimed part of it
was missing. He seemed to want something from me, but I proved that nothing was
missing and left with my friends. Jeanne drove much too fast; there was no traffic, and we
were almost flying.
I came upon my brother, who was using a rag and a couple of fingers to scrub the
kitchen floor. You could see how yellow it had been compared to the snow-white patches
he had already cleaned. His motions looked effortless, but I could imagine how hard the
work would be on my arthritic knuckles.
I walked into my old elementary school to look around, but thought I should check in
at the front desk out of courtesy. At first they welcomed me, but when I told them I was a
former student, they demurred politely. I could, however, use the bathroom. As I turned to
leave, they asked me my interest and my age. I answered, English, but I couldnt think of
my age. Then I said, 32, which didnt seem right. Only later did I remember that I should
have said 47. I also mentioned my degree and university. They seemed most impressed by
my age and acted as though they might change their minds because of it.
The bell rang, and hundreds of girls ran for the bathrooms, which were small, domed,
tent-like enclosures into which they crawled. No matter where I stood, they would get into
them before I could. I wondered if they would let me in if I mentioned that I was 32.
3 July 2008: Double jeopardy
I came upon a stand full of people listening to an orator, who was declaiming against
an elderly woman accused of a murder that had happened long ago. I interrupted her, but
she continued speaking. I interrupted her tirelessly until I could finally say what I had to
say and engage her in discussion. I pointed out that the woman, who was suffering from
dementia, had already been tried and could not be tried again (although I was not sure in
my mind of the outcome, that is, whether she had been found not guilty). My passions
were high and people were listening to me, but I could not think of the term for a second
trial (double jeopardy). My antagonist remained unconvinced, and the people looked torn,
while the woman herself seemed confused. I was determined not to lose this argument.
4 July 2008: The whipping boy
I was watching one of our high-rise buildings under construction when I saw it rotate
180 degrees, then rotate back. It happened quickly enough that I couldnt believe my eyes.
I saw it happen again later and couldnt deny it. Someone from development explained it
to me, although I am sure I didnt understand.
I was by the pool at home, wondering about what I had seen, when The Flamingo
rotated 180 degrees and back before my eyes. I looked at the person next to me, who had
also seen it. When it happened again, I speculated about how I didnt notice this when I
was inside, although surely one would be able to feel and see it. That I could be oblivious
to my building turning back and forth on its axis periodically was both marvelous and
horrifying.
I had just passed through security at work when I noticed that the person ahead of me
had knelt to clean an escalator rail and was trying to hide his face. An enraged security
guard threw me to the ground in his haste to get to this person, who he picked up and
slammed violently down. I know who you are! he kept shouting.

The person was no more than an adolescent boy carrying toy masks or flat shapes in
not-quite-pastel colors. I saw a line of them hanging, including a pink owl. Every time the
boy tried to say something, the guard would kick or punch him or throw him to the
ground, often hitting me because I was stunned and still in the way. I could not imagine
who this boy was or what he had allegedly done that would warrant such violent
treatment, and the toys/masks I had seen seemed symbolic of his innocence. I found myself
unable to speak up to stop the violence. My silence made me guilty. As I tried to recover
myself, I debated with myself whether I should report my ill treatment to the office
manager upstairs, but I thought she would dismiss my complaint as trivial and me as a
whiner.
When I woke up, I was thinking that we are not quite yet the society the founders had
envisioned as they risked their lives.
5 July 2008: Alma mater again
I had returned to college and was trying to find a reception on the second floor of a
building, but there were no stairs that I could discover. I came across a long line of
students who might have been waiting to get into the reception, but I needed to bypass
them.
I found some concrete stairs flanked by dirt banks, but students appeared and began
painting them black. I attempted to climb the dirt banks, but was not strong enough. When
the students noticed my efforts, they silently began painting them, too. Who paints dirt
banks? I thought, wondering why everything was tacitly against me.
I remembered that I had returned to college for three quarters and had missed most of
the first quarters offerings. I vowed to do better, but that meant the money, thousands of
dollars, had been wasted already. I tried to explain this to friend I met, along with my
horrible feelings of guilt. As I came closer to waking up, I asked myself why the degree I
earned 25 years ago was not good enough for me, and a voicemy own?asked, Did
you really earn it?
11 July 2008: Full metal jaw
I had a robot whose most prominent feature was its metal teeth. It chased me out of the
house into the midnight air, and I became afraid of it. It also got away from me on the
street and looked as though it were biting a mans rear end. It attacked so voraciously that I
thought it must have chewed up his buttocks and left a bloody mess. Then it turned
sideways and deliberately spit out, not blood and gore, but plain saliva. Was I ever to trust
it?
I felt the building move, which frightened me because the cause was greater than just
strong winds. Outside the window I saw trees and knew that it had been uprooted and that
I was about to crash with it and be killed. I waited for the impact of the landing and to be
deadbut it didnt come. Everything flew crazily through the air.
I was at the community in Reno, where the roof seemed to be all skylight. The
surrounding buildings crowding in on ours were urban and futuristic. A jet passed low
overhead, so low that it was enormous. Just as I had waited for the building to plummet to
the ground earlier, I waited in terror for the impact that never came.
I was with some couples traveling, and we came upon a notice that Michael Jackson
concert tickets were available to the first people who claimed them for $3. I called a friend
to tell him. The price seemed unbelievable, of course, but so was his willingness to

perform, given his legal troubles and all the talk about his appearance. In the photo,
however, he looked normal; everything was back to the way it had been, but he seemed
older. We did not think we wanted to go to Indiana for the performance.
[I am not sure where that came from; Ive never been interested in Michael Jackson.]
One of the couples seemed to be having some marital difficulties. The woman kept
dropping things and expecting her husband to pick them up to an extent that seemed
deliberate and unnatural. While we were sitting in the balcony, perhaps at a theater., she
dropped a piece of papera program?to the floor below and told her husband to
retrieve it. This request seemed unbelievable to him and to us. It wasnt clear how he could
descend to the floor.
We drove around at night in a preternatural darkness.
14 July 2008: Shaken, not stirred
James Bond was being pursued through a large building, most likely a hotel. He
stopped to remove his socks, probably just before he was captured. When I found them, I
had the presence of mind to pick them up, realizing later that they were the reason that he
was being hunted.
He escaped and found me, and I thought I was about to learn the secret of the socks
when we heard a woman outside screaming, Help me! I cant breathe! I cant breathe! A
man in the room threw something to heran inhaler?but when she reached for it she
lost her grip on the building and plummeted. A suspicion about the man flashed through
my mind.
I couldnt bear to look, but at the last moment I saw her hit a very crowded pool. The
idea that she had been 14 stories up came to me, and I hoped that she would survive,
unlikely as that seemed.
The swimmers had scattered with the impact, and when the body surfaced it was
headless. Instead of a neck, however, there was a peg like the Fisher-Price Little People
have.
To my horror, the body climbed out of the pool andsadly and desperately, it seemed
to mebegan to look for its head, although it would do it no good. It found it, but instead
of the head of a young woman, it was the distorted, plain head of a toy. Fretfully and
absentmindedly, the body cleanly pulled off one of the puffy, exaggerated ears and seemed
anxious to do more to it, but was stumped. It was awful to see and worse to think about,
but I wondered what it could mean.
15 July 2008: Identity crisis
A young woman opened a door set in a wall on a narrow European-style street to a tall
man in cavalier dress. He held and kissed her forcefullytoo forcefullyand they
disappeared inside. I wondered if all was well, or if I should have intervened.
Although I didnt know her or the manI thought they might be college studentsI
went in later to check on her. She was in a large, claw-footed bathtub, but the man in the
tub with her was younger and smaller than the cavalier and was intellectual in appearance.
In every way he was the opposite of the other man. I stared, unable to understand and
afraid of something indefinable.
I saw a young man in an outdoor warehouse area, then heard a loud sound as a can of
olive oil was punctured. Against my will, I began to imagine that the young woman and

intellectual in the bathtub had knocked out or even killed the cavalier, using the brief
sound of the olive oil can puncture to mask the deed.
I could sense that the young man I now saw was wondering the same thing and
whether he had been duped. He was horrified by the possibility because the woman
seemed to be a victim, but he was being overcome by a sense of sexual longing that made
him hope he was wrong. His mind was trying to form alternative scenarios that did not
lead to murder. His feelings were so strong that it occurred to me he may not have been a
third man, an accomplice, but that he may be the young man who had been, or would be,
in the bathtub. I wondered if I were seeing backward in time.
I felt such a strong sense of his guilt, confusion, and longing that I realized I may be
him as he would be in the future, trying to parse the past.
27 July 2008: The accordion, the heroic bird, and the lover
I was a young man, and my college roommate had promised an elderly Jewish woman
that I would perform the music at one of her family rituals. I was horrified because I knew I
was no musician. I dug around in our dorm room, looking for the instrument I would play.
I found it in one of the many backpacks in the closetan accordion.
I met the woman at midnight in the rain. I knew I was not a good musician like those
who play by ear and from memory, so I asked for sheet music. My roommate produced a
single sheet that somehow contained the music for nine tunes; I was to play eight of them.
He held the music up for me to see, but I was too nearsighted. I felt that this didnt
bode well for this rainy midnight audition or my future performance.
I was a girl at a church service. It had been raining. During the service, someone
moved a pillar, and a torrent of water poured from under it. I assumed that the books kept
in it had stayed dry and wondered how. More water ran out from within another pillar.
I noticed a man and recognized him as my future lover. Did he know me, too? I
watched him discreetly, looking him over and thinking that someday all of that would be
mine. It was a delicious thought.
The minister was talking about a heroic bird that had performed a brave deed. I found
the bird, which was a wooden statue of a one-legged robin, near a verdant ditch. At first I
thought it was dead, but when I realized it was only a representation, I began to stroke it.
I was aware that my mother was glancing at me with disapproval because she believed
it to be a dead bird, but my thoughts were only of my future lover and his attention. I
dreamed that I had it. I began to sense his growing interest and need.
29 July 2008: Escape from love
I was a young woman in an empty warehouse or counting house with another woman.
A man, one of our employers, came in and asked me in a whisper to make sure of some
numbers he believed to be off. He seemed sad. I thought, He doesnt trust the other
man. He looked at me oddly and I sensed that he did trust me and was counting on me to
do this right for him.
After he left, I looked at the other woman as I had no idea what I was supposed to do
and didnt want to be caught letting the young man down. She helped me to escape.
My way lay in front of houses fronted by waterlots of water. I couldnt run but had to
pick my way carefully between the patches of water because I didnt know how deep they
were. A river ran beyond the front yards, and water was everywhere.

A boy spotted me and invited me into his house. I needed to keep moving and didnt
like that hed seen me, but I needed the break.
I came to a train that had open-air cars. As it sped though sunny fields and even forests,
I felt horrible and guilty because I had not been able to help the young man. I began to cry
because I knew he loved me, and maybe I loved him, too.
16 August 2008: The underground apartment
I had sneaked into a mans unused underground apartment (he lived in a house), where
I turned on an unusual TV screen. The images that paraded across it were unlike anything I
had ever seen, and I became transfixed. I couldnt move for a long time.
Time passed, and perhaps the images paused or stopped. Absentmindedly I picked up
what I thought of as a pipe and bit through the stem, which was more like a somewhat
flattened plastic gun handle. An inch or so broke off from the back. I didnt know what
happened to the piece Id bitten off (had I swallowed it?), but the break was clean rather
than chewed.
The man came in, perhaps with another person, although later I thought we were
alone. I was frightened of him, but didnt know why as I didnt think he minded the
trespassing although he appeared to. Then I stumbled into a floor-to-ceiling plastic case
similar to those used as display packaging; this one had shelves full of crystal and other
valuables. I caught the case, but to my horror two tiny pieces of iridescent crystal fell to the
bottom. I looked at him in terror and wondered when he would notice the broken pipe
stem and what he would do.
Somehow he pushed the plastic case away from me behind the sofa without knocking
anything off. I marveled at this even as I babbled something about how I was at my best
only in the morning, as though I were making an excuse for my intrusion and clumsiness.
He seemed to be disgusted and unhappy, and so was I. Both of us were disturbed by
my presumptive behavior and my inadvertent destructiveness. I sensed that he was acting,
too. Despite appearances, we knew one another and were attracted to each other. It
seemed to be my behavior that was keeping us apart and that it was intentional. Why was I
trying to alienate him, and why couldnt he accept me as I was?
Later, I was at a party looking for my husband, who had been my elementary school
gym teacher. I could not remember his first name, and neither could he. I caught a three-
quarter profile glimpse of myself in a mirror. My head was pale and hairless, and my skull
the shape of that of a female gorilla.
I woke up frightened.
23 August 2008: A watery sideshow in the present tense
During this time of multiple medications, Ive had many interesting dreams and no time
or, later, energy to write about them. Now Ive had a dream twice, with only a few varying
detailsor I think Ive had a dream twice. The fact I am not sure is somewhat frightening.
In this dream, I am being shown a series of images and told that this is how the
sideshow and the illusions work. I can no longer remember all the specific images,
although many involve reptiles in a pool of water. In one of todays, a tiny rainbow horse
leaps into the pool and emerges unscathed, and it is clear to me how and why. In every
case, the situation and the vision are nightmarish, the odds unbeatable, and yet, as the
smooth narrator speaks soothingly into my ear and my eyes track the horrible, unreal

images, I can see how childish, how simple, how safe it all is, and I wonder at my
instinctive fear. My perception is the nightmare, not reality.
We come to the final image, the final test. I am a young girl, pinned down, with no
choice but to move forward. I do, into a changing kaleidoscope of abstract images that
slowly congeal into the pieces of a puzzle and then the puzzle itself, changing from
monochrome to color. I realize I am seeing through a virtual reality device. When I come
to an edge, its easy for me to decide to leapbut where to? Looking down, I see the
emblems of at least two comic book superheroes in the tile at the edge of a giant pool in
the upper right-hand quadrant. I veer toward it even as my natural gravitational descent
begins.
Out of the water leaps an enormous mechanical supervillainno, a megavillain, too
powerful to be understood. I AM BACK! he proclaims. I am to understand that he
defeated the heroes whose emblems are preserved mockingly in tile.
SO AM I! I pronounce, equally pompously.
At a loss for a moment, I fling my arms toward the monster, and his torso is spattered as
various mysterious moral weapons strike and sink him back into the depths. Now the pool
seems to be attached to a high-end hotel, a place for recreation.
In moments, I have been transformed from a young girl, trapped and terrified, into a
savior, merely by my acquired power to distinguish the virtual from the real. Equilibrium is
restored, and I no longer have to listen to the insidious explanatory voice or view the
disturbing, hokey, yet exotic imagery. I am at peace.
Until I have this dream again.
24 August 2008: Mysterious underwater realm
I was in a locker room looking for a bathroom. I found a hole in the floor that seemed
to be designed for the purpose and usable. Something, perhaps a thought or a fear, made
me leave before I took advantage of it.
When I returned, the area of the locker room around the lavatory hole was under
water. This didnt matter to me because I seemed to be able to pass through it as though it
were air. Lush aquatic plants flowed past me, along with colorful fish. The beauty of it was
haunting, yet disturbing, and I hesitated, uncertain.
We are in danger, a voice said. It meant that I was in danger. I knew that it was
correct, but I did not know from what.
As my senses adjusted to this otherworldly environment, I could feel the presence of
malevolent beings or spirits in the form of bizarre, toothy sea creatures. They could not be
seen, but would flash in and out of my perception, trying to lure me to my doom through
the beauty of this mysterious underwater realm. The voice was trying to save me. I was
more fascinated than frightened.
4 September 2008: The writing on the wall
A friend, KK, was visiting me, which mysteriously made me feel trapped. I wanted to
get out or to be alone, but I didnt know why. As I looked around my apartment, which
was nothing like any Ive ever seen, I noticed rust marks and missing paint high up on the
kitchen and living room walls. Some of it made sense to me because of leaking and some
work that had been done, but much of it mystified me.
I discovered writing on the wall. I thought I should call the manager to have the walls
repainted, but that the writing must be my responsibility. I ran a finger over the little that I

could reach, and it rubbed off. I wondered how they could repaint all these walls with all
my possessions in place.
Finally, I got KK outside, where we may have boarded a bus. When we got off, a boy
told me about a blind bunny hed found nearby. Confused at first, I spotted it in the grass
by the side of the street. It was ginger and white, like Hodge, so therefore not an eastern
cottontail. Its blindness wasnt obvious.
As I was considering my approach, it hopped over and got under a parked truck. As
long as it stayed out of traffic, this didnt seem too badbut then the truck started to lower
itself. It was going to crush the blind rabbit! I grabbed it, but not in timeits head was
caught in the mechanism. I was horrified; I couldnt free it, and I couldnt tell if it were
already dead. I imagined all kinds of horrors, but I couldnt let go.
The truck operator must have realized something was wrong, because the truck
stopped its descent. I still felt trappedunable to free the rabbit, afraid of the mutilation or
death I would find if I could free its head.
7 September 2008: The trackless train
I was on a stationary train in a car with a large tub with wide ledges, all tiled with
1950s linoleum. The train was an attraction, with vendors in every car. Im not sure what I
did in mine, although it seemed vast and bare. I wanted a whale for the tuba right whale
if nothing else would fit. Yet in my heart I knew that keeping anything other than a few
appropriate fishes in the tub would be inhumane.
It was late when the fair ended and I left my car. I found a co-worker and sat behind
him, but was afraid to say anything. My head kept falling forward and touching him, which
I thought he would perceive as sexual harassment. I left even as he ignored me.
I found my friend, DW, in the first car, which was big, brightly lit, and buzzing. When I
saw the three covers of some books she was selling, I wanted them. I could afford only one
at $10 apiece, so I chose the colorful birds over fish and one other. It proved to be an
elaborate book of cutouts, stickers, and pictures to be colored. Embarrassed, I told her that
I planned to use colored pencils.
The plan was for the train to take people to a Carpenters concert. After midnight? I
thought. No concert starts after midnight, but this one did. I found myself in what appeared
to be a regular car, but it was the front with no engine ahead. I realized it was moving
through the grass and weeds at the side of a road, not on tracks. I wondered if it had
conventional wheels.
Periodically, people in my car asked me how to exit. They expected the exit to be at
the front of the car and didnt notice it in the middle behind them. Why were they asking
about getting off before the train arrived?
We came to a street and tried to merge with traffic, but aggressive drivers kept cutting
or trying to cut us off. I noticed that the cars were so close to each other on either side and
were covering such a narrow swath when cutting across that the width of a train could not
fit between them. Could any of this be real?
How could a concert start after midnight? But I never questioned how it could feature
the Carpenters.
10 September 2008: Pool in the grass
I returned home to where I grew up and found a swimming pool in the grass next to it.
It was set directly into the ground, with no concrete deck. As I walked around it, I came to

a spot where I was especially carefulsomehow I knew there was a deep vertical hole to
accommodate a wide horizontal pipe that came out from the pool.
EP saw me and asked what I was doing. I pointed out the hidden danger, and we
discussed it could have been laid closer to the surface even if it would not have looked
very good. I wondered why he was speaking to me at all as he never had because I was
not popular. I also got it into my head that he attended the same college, which surprised
me because I didnt recall that at all. I began to name boys I knew, but he didnt recognize
any of them. And all I could do was wonder why he was talking to me.
11 September 2008: Urban barn and chute of doom
I was at my former job, but it was at the Sears Tower. All of itthe building, the office,
the peoplewas unfamiliar, and I didnt know what to do with myself. I went outside.
It was perhaps late fall or early winter, and it seemed like evening although it must
have been afternoon. I looked into the windows of an English-style pub and saw an odd
assortment of people. Two working-class men were fighting, with one trying to kill the
other. I sensed there was something deeper, more far-ranging, and more terrifying behind
this.
Shaken, I walked around the block. Behind the Sears Tower, I discovered a rural road
with a freshly painted, new red barn at the end of it. To me, it should have been a beautiful
sight, but its unreality frightened me, and I hurried back.
The elevator I took wouldnt stop. It had been hijacked because I and the others on it
were a threat to someone. It went up forever, beyond the limits of possibility. When it
stopped, somehow it compressed and so did we, so that we were only feet from the top of
the shaft. The maneuver was meant to terrify us. It worked.
Someone spoke to us, but I think we saw only toys. One of them may have been a
headless doll the size of a toddler. It, or something, pulled the fingers of my right hand and
made them longer. I knew this could be reversed by whoever had done it and wished them
back to normal. But whenever I looked, they remained abnormally long.
I found a means of escapea way to slide downward through what looked like tilted
fun house tunnels. Only after we had started down did I realize that they were not only
painted bizarrelygreen, black, and white, in a 1960s hounds-tooth or checked pattern
but they were curving and twisting in impossible ways, like in an Escher painting. They,
and the idea of escape, were an illusion. For all we knew, we were in a colorless, straight
chute to our deaths. My fingers may not have been stretched, either.
I remembered the peaceful country road with the barn, implausibly appearing on a
dark afternoon in the city behind one of the worlds tallest buildings.
I called for the one person in the group who could shatter the illusion confounding us,
and I called to her. I felt doomed.
I resolved to visit the country road again. It was convenient and so peaceful.
15 September 2008: No walk in the woods
Like Bill Bryson, I sought a walk in the woods. To my amazement, though, wherever I
went I was surrounded by countless acres of cultivated landrow after row of crops. There
were no woods, nothing wild as far as I could see and, I thought, even beyond. I felt an
epiphanythat the world has been settled by humans for so long that nothing of nature is
left. I woke up thinking about <a
href=http://www.penguincatalogue.co.uk/lo/press/title.html?catalogueId=214&imprin

tId=368&titleId=3849 target=_blank>The New Penguin History of the World</a>
and wondering how cultivated much of the Mediterranean world might have seemed from
very early historical times. Subconsciously I knew I would never have Eden.
It was evening, and I went for a drive in my dads car. It was a nerve-wracking
experience because I had the idea that I didnt know how to drive (true), nor did I have
permission to. The accelerator and brake werent pedals as I expected, and they operated
in a way I had never seen before and couldnt master.
When I returned, I took a piece off the brake, perhaps a string, and meant to show it to
my dad because it made no sense to me, and I thought he should know about it. I also
suspected something important was happening that was beyond my understanding.
18 September 2008: The quest to be real
I was at what may have been a movie party with people from high school when I
spotted TB. I seemed to be dressed in a showy printleopard spots?and thought he
surely had to see me at such a gathering.
I started to wonder if he did see me and would never admit it, but I know my own lack
of power to compel attention. For the first time, though, I felt optimistic that he wasnt
entirely unaware of me and that someday he would have to grant me my right to be a real
person, worthy of at least his notice if not his affection. I woke up disappointed as usual,
but strangely optimistic.
20 September 2008: The bridge to nowhere
I was crossing a street when I heard sirens. An enormous fire truck barreled around the
corner; its grill towered over me. It may have stopped, or time may have slowed, because I
was not killed instantly. Instead, the extreme darkness around me confused me, and I
couldnt budge. I wondered if I could lay down and hope the trucks undercarriage
wouldnt drag over me and kill me, but that still required me to do something. I was aware
that I should have been killed already.
As I was deciding what to do, or being killed (I could not tell which), and feeling guilty
for not being able to get out of the way, I understood the nature of the emergency. Large
numbers of people were stranded in Ohio on an island surrounded by thousands of miles
of water, connected to land only by a bridge of unimaginable length.
* * * * *
I was entering a dormitory and came upon someone who had rescued two tiny
puppies. They were so small they didnt look real.
Later I found a banana-shaped puppy, missing its legs and its face. I thought I could see
traces of eyes, nose, and mouth, but I couldnt be sure. I must have thought it was still alive
but I didnt know what to do with itwhether to keep it and try to figure out how to feed
it, to leave it to die on its own, or to kill it mercifully (how?). All of the choices horrified
me.
As I came closer to waking, I couldnt help wondering if it was just half of a banana
and not a puppy at all. I wanted an easier and less painful decision.
25 September 2008: Abandoned
An incredibly loud noise, like that of a prop plane, filled the air and woke me up. I was
afraid to get up and look out the window because it sounded so close.

I found I was in a dorm room shared with a male roommate. Although it was the
middle of the night and I was very tired, there was something we had to see. My brother
came along, too.
We found a mobile theater that at first I thought was <a
href=http://www.puppetbike.com/ target=_blank>PuppetBike</a>, but it was an Italian
imitation. We stayed a while watching this bright spot on a dark street, where everyone
else was slumbering during these wee hours of the morning. Suddenly, they left so abruptly
that I could not keep up with them, and to my shock the car departed without me. There I
was, alone in a residential neighborhood, with no money or mobile phone and wearing
only pajamas.
I was nearly petrified. I knew the police, could I find them, would scoff at me. Finally,
after tired, panicked rambling, still stunned with disbelief, I came upon a diner, told the
owner my story, and asked to use the phone. She seemed jaded, nonplussed, and reluctant
to let me. I dont remember making the call.
By the time my roommate and brother arrived, I was nearly hysterical with anger and
fear. I berated them the whole back, going on about how could they have not noticed I
was missing. Not seeing the problem, they ignored me and chatted with each other.
28 September 2008: Elevated to wisdom
I was about to check out of a resort when I realized I needed to go to the second floor
to write a testimonial on the outside wall. I got into the elevator, which seemed unusually
full. I was in a hurry and all I was thinking was that, although this meant a certain amount
of climbing around outside, it shouldnt take long.
The elevator didnt stop at the second floor, however. It didnt stop at any floor. I
thought of elevator banks and decided it was unlikely an elevator would go straight up so
many floors, not to mention that the resort was not a high rise. Now I was frightened, but I
kept my fears to myself.
At long last the elevator stopped and opened on both sides. The front opened onto an
enormous wood-paneled bar/lounge, while the back opened onto a wood-paneled, empty,
wedge-shaped room barely large enough to accommodate me. It was more of a hollow
wall than a room.
Everyone headed to the bar/lounge as though theyd discovered the resorts hidden
gem, but a compelling force, neither physical nor mental, was influencing me toward the
wedge. At first I thought I was being entombed and was even more terrified. Some sense,
perhaps from the same force pushing me toward it, reassured me that, despite
appearances, this was the safer, more desirable place to be. The others had made their
choice, and I could only look longingly after them and remember that I had been in a
hurry. I felt like I was experiencing a taste of the afterlife, where choices and dangers are
not obvious. Maybe all of us were dead.
And perhaps my previous perceptions of reality were petty and false.
7 October 2008: Witness to murder
I was at a party at ELs house, which surprised me by its size and mysteriousness; it
reminded me of the house I dream that my late aunt in Bellwood had. I was also intrigued
by how she had come by it and how she could afford it. It was nothing like her first modest
suburban home Id known.

JT arrived, and at first I thought to avoid her because I thought she was still angry with
me. We ended up on a ride together that went around the top floor on rails. The
destination was an authors book signing, but I was told I must meet this person and tell
him (her?) about my great story ideasexcept that I dont have any.
At first we inched toward the booth because the author was so popular. Subtly, the ride
began to accelerate and to fly in higher and higher circles. Just as I was sure I would be
flung into the heights and die, it stopped near the ceiling. To extract me, the rescuers had
to remove my clothes and cover me with hand and bath towels.
I found a tiny little shirt I thought belonged to the daughter of a former co-worker, but
she didnt seem interested. I saw then that it had become a beautiful sweater dress. In the
meantime, a little boy kept trying to peer down the back of my pants. Irritated, I looked for
his parents, but none were to be seen. His actions and the fact he was getting away with
them appalled me as I considered the ramifications of disciplining him myself.
I was on a boat, and with each circuit of the bay it seemed to get larger; the deck rose
high above the waters surface. This alone would have frightened me, but I also noticed
that the ship was in pursuit of a young woman. Her name flashed through my mind. The
ship, which felt like it was flying faster and faster like the rail ride, was forcing her into a
defenseless position. I wanted to tell everyone what was happening, but fear silenced me. I
looked down and saw her apparently crushed against a wall. Perhaps it was then I knew
who was the villain behind the scheme and lost some of my fear. I tried to tell the others,
but they didnt believe me. All they knew was that they were having fun on a cruise to
nowhere.
By talking to them, I had revealed my knowledge, so the villain tried to corner me in a
parking lot. As terrified as I was, I sensed that I would escapeand that his victims name
and my silence would haunt me always.
Finally, he trapped me but I avoided being crushed. He got out of the vehicle and
approached me, but I felt that he would have to get close to me to kill me and that he had
no physical advantage over me.
I saw a tiny needle in his hand and knew I had to avoid it. We struggled, and he
pricked me slightly, but I rationalized that this would not hurt me. I gained partial control
of the needle or needles and pricked him back several timesenough to save myself. As I
did, I realized that now I was the one committing murder. I felt sad.
13 October 2008: Exotic Reno resort plus
I was watching a documentary that may have been about a contest to win a stay at an
exotic Reno resort. The program focused on a couple who seemed to be the bane of the
staffs working lives. They had four rules of behavior, and the husband publicly accused
the wife of breaking one. What do you mean, Im not friendly? she screeched at him in
the lobby. I thought, What an odd rule #4!
The desk clerk was shown tacking their messages, called graffiti, to a bulletin board
and complaining that, while they had accumulated many, they never collected them. The
viewer was supposed to be upset by the futility of trying to deal with such an unreasonable
couple. I thought, If the staff feels that way, they should just hand their graffiti to them. I
didnt understand the issue.
At the back of my mind, the beaches and palm trees, combined with exotic Reno
resort, puzzled me.
* * * * *

My dad had remarried, and he and his wife had had two children, a boy and a girl. I
didnt live at home, so they didnt bother me. When I returned, though, something about
them and the situation horrified me. How could you? I kept asking. He took the
rhetorical question seriously and literally and said almost apologetically, If you leave it
alone a while, it works.
In my mind, I treated his actions as though they were fresh and an affront to my
mothers recent memory, but as I was about to say, Shes been gone only _____, it hit me
hard that she had been gone more than 25 years. I couldnt believe it. I felt as though I had
just seen her.
As I woke up, I understood that the children, both under 10, were normal, and Id felt
alienated and violated. I went out and looked up into the half-lit apocalyptic sky.
18 October 2008: The reunion train
I knew I had graduated from the <a href=http://www.uchicago.edu/
target=_blank>University of Chicago</a>, but nowprobably years laterI was
attending Yale University for an undergraduate degree. I couldnt understand my own
actions, but I had to do it. I didnt feel as frightened of failure as I usually do when I am
returning to complete the degree I already have.
Someone asked, How many military officers have you had convicted? What an odd
question. I was sitting, stooping, or kneeling, but I sensed someone behind me. TB was
there with a friend or two, and he was holding up both hands with all fingers and both
thumbs spread. Before I knew it, I said, Do you have enough fingers? He glanced down
at me in disgust at the implication. Again, I had blown it. A military lawyer? Is that what he
had been? It didnt seem likely. The number 10 seemed high if he hadnt been, though,
and I knew hed run out of fingers. But what a strange questionwho had asked it and
why?
It was time for a class reunion, which involved a train trip. We stayed overnight
somewhere; when I returned to my train seat, my computer (Titanium PowerBook) was still
there, but the <a href=http://www.alphasmart.com/products/neo_In.html
target=_blank>AlphaSmart NEO</a> was missing. I couldnt remember any of my own
movements but in a moment of denial was sure that I had left it in another car and that it
had not been stolen.
PS, the office manager, was noncommittal but at least did not condemn me for my
foolish actions and assumptions. She moved me to the next car, which was nothing like the
comfortable one I had been in. Rows of wooden seats were packed in tightly; from above it
looked like a cattle car, possibly with straw on the floor. The conductor told me people
chose it because the back part was a swimming pool. Later, it would be more of a pond
than a pool, and most people ignored it in favor of a chlorinated resort pool that had taken
over most of the rest of the car.
All of us got out at a building, perhaps a shopping complex. I was clutching a handful
of thin legal-size folders and my thick wallet awkwardly; hanging onto these would give
me a great deal of trouble in my wanderings. The only way I could find to get between the
buildings levels were narrow, railless iron steps suspended above an abyss. I walked up
two sets of them at different times, but I would have given almost anything to have let go of
my dignity and crawled. On the last step to solid flooring, I tripped and for a horrifying
moment or two thought I would fall.

As I walked around, I encountered people I thought I knew, like Lynn(e) P. I was
confused, uncertain, and addle about whether they were from high school or college, or if
they were there as friends of classmates. I didnt meet anyone I really wanted to see.
I started to worry about missing the train as I didnt know when it was leaving or how
to get back to it. I saw what appeared to be an exodus and tried to recognize someone so I
could be sure that it was safe to follow them. Suddenly, I lost the entire crowd. I was alone
in the strange building with the terrifyingly tiny suspended iron steps.
I heard someone who tried to reassure me, but it was too late. My trust was no more.
22 October 2008: Which witch?
My brother and my friend, DW, were driving me to meet a female relative. We passed
the trailer park, the front of which was covered with shelves lined with used books for sale.
All I could see were rows and rows of books. We backtracked to it, and I picked up a
booksomething I would never read, probably by Clive Cusslerbut didnt pay. When
we left, I asked my brother and DW where they had paid. Up the steps at the side of the
building, they said. I had seen it and knew I should have gone there, but I thought I would
return later.
After what seemed like endless hours of driving, I asked where we were. Although it
looked like a small town, I guessed that we were in St. Louis or Kansas City. My mother
and DW looked at each other significantly, as though I were very wrong and they were
very pleased about that, so I looked around again. We were in a declining small American
townwith antique stores and diners, and a look and feel of being out of touch with time.
It could have been anywhere. There was no frame of reference, and suddenly I became
afraid. I no longer trusted my brother or my friend.
It was after dark when we rendezvoused with my relative, who proved to be a witch.
She was high up in the country sky and cast sparkling red and green bolts to the ground.
When I saw her closer up, she consisted of a shadowy form with a sparkly red patch and a
sparkly green patch. I was terrified. I was expected to hug her, which I did very reluctantly.
I was afraid that if I touched her Id become a witch, too. Then I began to wonder what a
witch is.
My brother said some strange, Latin-sounding words to us, which I interpreted to mean,
The less said, the better. As if the hug had not been bad enough, my words would give
her even more power over me. It was not as easy as I thought to stay silent, but I did. After
a while, to my horror DW started to talk about nothing. Didnt she understand that she was
endangering us all? The shadowy figure driving seemed to perk up at the words. I was
doomed and now damned, I was sure.
Inside, I fretted about the book I hadnt paid for.
23 October 2008: The trailer park problem
I was in TC, Texas, sent to settle an outstanding municipality account. I found myself
on a small green patch that looked nothing like I expected, with a trailer park on each side.
I felt puzzled and wondered if anyone else knew about this. Then I realized that I had no
way of returning and was probably stranded in this surreal place.
I wandered down a side street that looked like it belonged in Florida, not Texas.
Mansions lined the street, which seemed incongruous. My dad came along and closed an
open door as a courtesy. A woman on an upper floor heard the door close and yelled at

him from a window as though he were a thief. He didnt react, but I was outraged even as I
felt more and more confused, lost, and dazed.
30 October 2008: Shelved
I was trying to be on time for the daily 9:00 a.m. meeting, but was cutting it too close.
Mysteriously, I succumbed to an urge to get a particular book, title unknown, from the
library before I left.
I had to climb onto the bookshelves, which seemed gigantic and crowded to me. I
crawled over books as though they were boulders on a steep mountain slope. Some were
so high or placed so close to an edge that they seemed insurmountable. Time was ticking
away, and I was tiring rapidly. I could not haul myself any further over all these book
obstacles. It was horrifying to me that I was going to miss the unimportant three-minute
meeting, but inside I was afraid that I had deliberately trapped myself forever to get out of
all of them.
I woke up early, exhausted and a little panicked.
In reality, I was late for the following days meeting.
1 November 2008: Surreal snippets
I was watching a couple swim in a dimly lit indoor pool. I noticed that the pool merged
into a verdant forest. I wondered why all pools cant be like that.

I was sitting on the porch at home, which overlooked a beautiful rural area from an
elevation. I was watching the spectacular sunset, and all seemed to be perfect in the world.
Until I noticed the cigarette butts.
They had been smoked down to only a half inch and tossed where I was sitting, so
there was little room for me. I appealed to my mother to provide an ashtray for the smoker,
but she was unwilling to cooperate. I noticed a ceramic clamshell dish and pointed out
that the smoker could use it, but again she brushed me aside without explanation.
I saw a wooden piece drilled with holes from which blue flames were flickering. If the
smoker could light up using this, why couldnt he or she use the ceramic clamshell?
I wondered if the sunset and the scenery that had given me such joy were going to
elude me. I felt frustrated and very sad.
2 November 2008: The slippery slope of education
I was about to take college entrance exams and was trying to set pens, pencils, etc.,
into the slots of a holder when I noticed that I must have been suspended in mid-air over a
hillside at an angle, because everything I set into a slot slid and fell to the grassy ground
below. Nervously, I took a Bic Clic apart, and watched in horror as the refill, spring, and
bottom half fell. I consoled myself with the idea that I could look for them later (in that vast
amount of grass). I was panicking about having nothing left with which to take the test, but
that fear was surpassed by a weird emotional attachment to a cheap, replaceable pen.
I felt something strange and overheard that it was only a minor earthquakenothing to
worry about. I became aware that I was in northern California, which seemed wrong. I
didnt want to worry about earthquakes, too. For reassurance, I turned around and looked
for KW. I didnt see anyone.

For the next part of the test, I found myself with no other choice but to lie on a cold,
wet, sloping steel surface to have one finger examined carefully. Why? What was the
purpose? Why this awkward, nonsensical position?
I told someone that there seemed to be fewer people enrolled in the following years
class. Its the bad economy, I noted. Its keeping kids out of college. This seemed
terribly wrong to me, but I felt no concern for myself.
The sloping steel finger exam still haunted me.
7 November 2008: The devil in the dark
I was eating lunch with my co-workers in a place Id never been to. When the server
came with the check, I realized that I was nude. Embarrassed, I looked to see if anyone
else wasno. On the positive side, no one seemed to have noticed my state.
As I was walking around an underground stone chamber that looked like something
out of the original <a href=http://memory-
alpha.org/en/wiki/The_Devil_in_the_Dark_(episode) target=_blank>Star Trek</a>, a
young woman stopped me and rubbed a balloon over my head. For a while, I was
mesmerized by the strangeness of this action and wondered what it signified.
Suddenly, it occurred to me that I was being distracted from my purse and wallet. I felt
for them; I still had them, I thought, but they seemed to have gotten farther away. Youve
sold your soul to the devil! I screamed at the girl, who looked innocent enough.
The next thing I knew, someone was cackling and leading me out of the Star Trek-style
stone chamber and into another. At first, I felt claustrophobic under its low ceiling and in
its confines. As it dawned on me that these horrible chambers took up infinity and there
was nowhere else to go, I realized that I had landed in Hell.
And I panicked.
8 November 2008: The money pit
At one point, I was clenching my teeth so tightly that my night guard, already broken in
back, disintegrated under the force. I could feel tiny plastic shards between my teeth and
wondered if I would need a new guard and how I would pay for it. While all this was vivid
and sensory, I understood that it was a dream.
I was in a classroom, and the instructor asked who some group feared the most. The
obvious answer would have been a particular racial or ethnic group, but I knew the real
answer, which came out involuntarily: The working man. I turned around and saw <a
href=http://www.studsterkel.org/ target=_blank>Studs Terkel</a> few seats behind me.
Although he showed no reaction, I hoped I had gotten his attention with my insight.
I was in this classroom because I had re-enrolled in college, but I could not recall
attending any other classes, and I couldnt remember what they were. I reluctantly
confessed to someone that I had returned to college for another degree that wasnt even at
a graduate level, that I had not been attending classes, and that I had lost track of my
progress and status.
I began to worry about the money I had wasted, thinking a few hundred dollars up to
as much as a thousand. I didnt understand anything I had done. I wondered whether
trying to continue toward such a useless goal with so many questions unanswered and
with no motivation would be a waste of more money and if quitting would mean wasting
the money already spent.
I worried that Studs would find out.

10 November 2008: Sleeping on the trailer train
I was sleeping in bed at home and woke up to find that a train was passing a huge
window in front of me. It was so close and traveling so fast that it frightened me. I noticed,
too, that the trailer was moving, also on tracks. Sometimes the train was faster, sometimes
the train. Later, when sensed my dad walking around nearby, I wondered who was driving
the trailer. So we went on and on, seemingly endlessly. I didnt know what kept us on the
rails.
I was at a mall or other public place talking with acquaintances when I noticed a grill
in the wall and realized that the state or the police were listening to us. I felt guilty as
though we had been plotting something and fled up some stairs. It occurred to me that this
wasnt far enough to escape the clutches of the people behind the grill and that I was
probably surrounded by electronic surveillance, but I didnt know where else to go and I
had a sense that I could evade them.
I found myself in an apartment at first, greeted by a cat, then another cat, then another,
and another, and another. Had I found refuge with a cat hoarder? She was talking to a
rabbit in a cage, which bothered me at the back of my mind. I didnt know why, but it
slowly occurred to me that the rabbit was not a pet like the cats, but was slated for
slaughter. Horrified, I fled again.
This time, I came out into a courtyard that led to open country. I felt a little more free,
but I felt that I still could be seen and heard. I despaired at the lack of freedom, even out
here. There was nowhere to left to go and to hidewhy I needed to hide, I didnt
understand.
14 November 2008: The wicked visit
I was making a quick stop at DWs house on the way to another city (I would figure out
later that it was NYC). I didnt see most of their house, including the living room, dining
room, and kitchen, all of which seemed to be off limits. Instead, I was restricted to a
bedroom and/or sitting room.
When I tried to use the bathroom, I found that the doorway was so narrow that I
couldnt fit through it. I used the one in the master bedroom once, but had the impression
that that was frowned upon. I found another bathroom that was set up almost like a salon,
with a woman or two sitting on chairs in a waiting area. I turned to close the door for
privacy, but there was none, not even a curtain. This door was also unusually narrow.
In the bed-/sitting room, a green toilet seat flapped up and down erratically and
mysteriously.
Every now and then I would open a door and, instead of a bathroom, I would find an
ocean scene with a witch from <a href=http://www.wickedthemusical.com/
target=_blank>Wicked</a> astride the waves. I didnt know what to think.
Then there was a game that involved racing herb leaves down the length of the pan. I
did well, but discovered only later that the leaves would follow the finger like a
magnet. Finally, I accidentally flipped the pan over and panicked about losing leaves. All
of them were accounted for.
I wondered how my friends could live in such a strange, chaotic place, but noticed that
they still retained their old values from childhood.
I told DW I was going to meet a friend in NYC. When she looked at me inquiringly, I
looked at her significantly, which surprised her. I began to imagine this liaison, although
even in my imagination it did not happen as I wished.

I remembered that I didnt yet have a ticket to NYC and wondered at myself for doing
so much flying in such a short time. I felt disappointed because I knew I could not pull it
offthere must have been a miscommunication somewhere.
And I kept encountering the Wicked witch, atop the waves.
19 November 2008: Stop, thief!
I walked into a restaurant bar and found people Id known in high school, although I
couldnt put all the names with the faces. I was right about a few, and EP introduced me to
some of the rest. Many of them were boys who had bullied me, including SF. They, and
EP, would not look at me directly.
Two fish escaped from an enormous aquarium and began to chase each other and fight
outside it. They were much larger than typical aquarium fish and seemed to be getting
bigger. I finally wrestled the more aggressive fish to the ground and tried to heave it back
into the aquarium. At first it was half in/half out and struggled against me, but with a
mighty effort I tipped it in. The other fish was caught, too.
Both escaped again and began to terrify the people. One took on the appearance of a
cartoon whale, with an exaggerated head, no body, and tiny tail, but that made it no less
dangerous, and those unable to flee from before it were bitten, mauled, or worse. As I
came closer to waking, I wondered how these fish survived, moved about, grew, and
morphed out of the water.
I used a wheelchair to get to a store at South Shore Plaza and debated how secure it
would be if I parked it outside unlocked. I seemed to have little choice, so I did.
Inside I expected to find a glittering, high-end jewelry store, but the shop was stark,
mostly empty, and stocked with such valueless but useful items as old newspapers.
I reflected upon how much had changed, although there had never been a high-end
jewelry store at the plaza. My surprise was a mystery. I still puzzled over the fish, which I
had escaped.
Only moments later I came out to find my wheelchair missing. I saw the thief running
toward the edge of the trees and bushes and called for someone to stop him. A man,
perhaps a classmate from the bar, took off in pursuit, but as the foliage swallowed them, I
knew he would always be a step or two behind and would never catch the wheelchair
thief.
I was afraid of encountering the fishes again.
22 November 2008: The vampire and the gargoyle
The economy was very bad, and my father was washing his white pickup truck for sale.
I asked how much he wanted$20,000. I looked into its white bed flecked with rust and
wondered at his lack of pragmatism.
We went for a drive in the country and stopped at the foot of a hill, where a man
offered to make my sister and me something of our choice. She asked for a vampire. He
disappeared. When he returned with it, his behavior had become very strange. Discreetly
and without haste he pursued my sister, never quite catching her but always staying right
behind her. He commented on her virtue and beauty and seemed delighted by her
mounting nervousness.
I asked for a gargoyle, although Im not sure that that is what I wanted. It was the first
thing that occurred to me. When he returned, he did not follow or pursue me, and his
comments were of a different nature. I sensed that he was attracted to me for more than

looks alone. I and my attributes were desirable to him on some deeper level, and it
frightened me that I could read his mind. His variable character repulsed, horrified, and
fascinated me, and I was troubled that I understood him so well.
29 November 2008: Headlines
At around 1:30 a.m. I woke up from a vivid dream that may have come from the
headlines. I was with an older man, perhaps my father in the dream but not my real father,
in an aerie hideout when armed men broke in. They told us they were going to kill him
bloodily, but that I could leave with one of them across the treetops. I dont remember
wrestling with the decision, saying good-bye, or leaving; I recall only fleeing through the
treetops, hearing gunfire, and being told not to look back. I didnt need to turn to see the
horror in my imagination and to wonder at the ease with which I had left and my
cowardice. I did not feel what I should have. When I awoke, I was shaking.
Next I dreamed that I was choosing my room at the White House, but it was nothing
like the building on Pennsylvania Avenue. I liked every room I looked into better than the
last, although all of them were bare bones, and some were underground. I wondered how I
had come to be there and to have this opportunity. The strangeness of it frightened me.
1 December 2008: Dream of my parents
One day I noticed that my mothers hair was straight and that she had bangs. With her
hair so different, she didnt look like my mom.
When was the last time you had your hair cut? I asked, sounding more insensitive
than I intended. Or done?
Years ago, she said ruefully.
I realized that I was supposed to understand more than she said, and that is how I
learned that she was ill. She did not even feel like having her hair taken care of or that she
should spend time or money on it.
Lets go across the street, I said, getting up to look for my dad.
That place [salon] is long gone, my mother reminded me.
When had so much changed? I kept looking for my dad so we would both know that
we had to take her to a salon in town on Saturday. She would not have let her hair go
unless the situation were really bad, and if she wasnt in denial, I was. Had my dad not
noticed, or had he simply not told me?
Next, I was outside looking at the trailer with someone and trying to explain the scene
of devastation around it, as the woods and everything else had been razed for
development. I could find nothing that was familiar.
The trailer was sold to that woman, I said, pointing to a second trailer to the
southeast, parked too close to ours. I wondered at the proximity.
I was trying to explain what had been there before when our trailer pulled out. Where
is he going? I asked rhetorically. I was thinking, How can he drive with all that stuff in
there? as I pictured everything on the shelves crashing, and then pictured it not crashing
by magic. I didnt question how the trailer itself had become self-motored.
My dad returned five or ten minutes later, although somehow I missed him backing the
trailer into the spot. Where did you go? I asked him. Park Ridge, he said. On I55. He
could not have gone so far and returned in five or ten minutes, and I remained mystified by
his journey, whether hed completed it, and how it came to be in Illinois.

I had been looking at two gouged trenches behind the trailer, one deep, gray, and ugly
like a scar, the other shallow and dark brown like a garden furrow. I tried to explain to my
companion that one or the otherI couldnt be sure whichmarked the spot where our
lilacs had grown, the lilacs that in reality had just started to flower when my dad moved
away in 1987. The devastation and strangeness around me were depressing, but the sight
of that scarred earth where so much greenery had thrived was killing me.
My indecision over which trench prevented my companion from knowing how upset I
was. Or so I thought.
4 December 2008: Swimming in air
I was on a commercial flight and needed to use the swimming pool. I resisted for a
while, but finally gave in and went up to it on the top floor of the plane. Even as I used the
pool, I could not understand the logistics. It looked just like a hotel pool.
Now the plane was moments from landing, and I had no time to leave the pool and
return to my seat. The pool was outside the plane, and so was I. For the plane to land, I
had to cut the plastic bag that enveloped it. This meant I would have to cling to the skin of
the plane for dear life and that I would be dragged along behind it when it landed, which
sounded like it might be painful and even deadly. I could not picture any scenario that
would come out well for both me and the plane and was stuck in indecision.
Ultimately, I knew I had to cut the bag and hope that the consequences would not be
too severe and that I could bear and survive them.
7 December 2008: The stairwell
I was walking down the stairs in a dormitory stairwell when I heard a single bell or
chime. It didnt sound anything like a fire alarm, but that is what I took it to be. Whether it
were a real fire or only a drill, I thought how fortunate I was to be in the stairwell
approaching the first floor.
I had begun to notice how eerily quiet it was, especially if there were a drill or
emergency. Shouldnt I hear feet running about and voices? If there were a fire, shouldnt I
smell smoke?
I went to open the door to the first floorbut there wasnt one. I looked around,
thinking that perhaps I was mistaken about its location. As I turned, I realized there were
no doors. And now there were no stairs, eitheronly a stairwell with no exit.
I wondered somewhat incuriously how that could be possible.
8 December 2008: The pulpit
Suddenly I found myself on stage at a pulpit in front of an audience waiting for me to
deliver a sermon. I found a Bible in front of me and started to look for passages from which
I could tell a cohesive story. I dont know what I talked about, but I felt I was doing well
enough that no one would notice that I wasnt prepared.
Realizing that music would be expected, I turned to the music director but naturally
did not know the hymnal and could think of nothing that made sense in conjunction with
what Id just said. The music director announced Hymn #141. Although I didnt know
what it was, I hoped the selection seemed planned and complementary to the sermon. I
had misgivings about the music director because I feared that he (or she) suspected me. My
worry stemmed from a sense of guilt, but I didnt understand its source.

As I was waking up, I was thinking that being a minister isnt very difficult at allI had
gotten away with it without having had to spend time on agonizing over a sermon. After I
became a little more awake, I felt oppressed by the idea of having to come up with
something fresh week after week, year after year, while providing spiritual and marital
counseling and performing all the other day-to-day duties I didnt know about.
By the time I was fully conscious, my idea of the job had been transformed from piece
of cake to overwhelming.
9 December 2008: The treatment
I was at an apartment on the upper floor among the trees and opened the back door,
perhaps forgetting about the household pets. The cat got out. I was upset at my stupidity,
but he didnt seem to be going anywhere further than the back porch, so he was easy to
retrieve. But the rabbit got out. Then another cat and another rabbit. For every animal we
caught and brought in, another seemed to escape. I worried about the possibility they
would plunge to their deaths on the ground below, especially the rabbits.
I noticed the tile in the kitchen was loose and that the floor toward the porch and on it
sloped crazily down, as though it were collapsing in very slow motion. My friend said they
needed to follow up with the landlord about the problem. I wondered. In a way, it added
architectural interest.
The man I was seeing halfheartedly was diagnosed with a cancer. I took him to a place
for treatment, which was some form of physical therapy delivered by attractive young
women. One day they told him that they could do no more for himdeath was inevitable.
I saw through this, perhaps because eventually they said the same thing to
everyone. No one would get better, they claimed, and I wouldnt believe it. In the case
of my friend, it was inconceivable to me.
A woman came out to address me. She was beautiful, but in my heart I knew she
epitomized evil. To my shock and horror, a crowd applauded and cheered when she made
her dramatic entrance. I could not believe they couldnt see past the beauty and celebrity
to the monstrous evil that was obvious to me. Her popularity alone made her the victor,
her air seemed to say.
Something else must have happened because in the end my friend and I won, which
meant that he was going to live. I felt a great passion for him that I had not known before.
As he came closer, I realized that now he was at least a foot shorter than I, as though his
size were in an inverse relationship to the strength of my feelings.
The therapy people had made me love him by threatening him with death, and I had,
in a manner, won back his life. Now that he was safe, he had become diminished
symbolically in a way that made my unfulfilled ardor all the more painful.
Maybe that was the evil I had sensed.
10 December 2008: Cannonball caf
To my horror I had bitten off the back half of my night guard on both sides, so a high
school classmate said he would go with me to get a new one. He didnt mean a
customized one from the dentist, but a bulky blue one from a drugstore, along with a
strange implement to cut the excess off. I was wary of this idea, but it was too late.
We went to the bakery caf, which looked more like a diner and was filled with
characters. When one man in particular entered, everyone cringed. Im not sure why he
singled me out, but he insisted loudly and firmly that I was mentally deficient. Another

high school classmate, who seemed to be the wife or girlfriend of the first, told me it was
best to go along with him. I didnt like that he seemed so certain.
We went into another room to see a demonstration of a cannon being fired. This
seemed very dangerous to me, but all went welluntil a cannonball rolled toward the
group from the cannon. I thought it must be hot, but no one along the wall seemed to be
afraid of it. Another one rolled out (how?), another, and another, and as the pile grew
people became worried that wed be crushed by a room full of cannonballs.
We went back into the bakery caf, but stuff was piled outside against the glass wall,
and there was no way to get out and nowhere to go. I thought I saw a gap, however, and
tried to break the window to get to it. The glass was unbreakable. I wondered if a heel
might work, but I was wearing walking shoes. I thought of the device Id bought to trim the
night guard. Im not sure that we ever got through the glass, but beyond it was a screenor
perhaps the screen was protecting the glass. There must have been a way out.
I did not panic.
19 December 2008: Hodge and the caravan
I saw an open door and knew that Hodge had escaped. I was in a caravan, I realized,
but I didnt know what this meant. As it turned out, it was parked in a market, and he was
hanging from a blue velvet curtain by front claws he doesnt have. I wondered where my
parents were.
As I retrieved the cat, I noticed he had started to chew up a toy or stuffed animal; it
looked like he had bitten the ear partly off a rhinoceros. My ethical side started to look for
a cashier or proprietor. I saw that Hodge was wearing a frilly felt mask, like the face of a
stegosaurus. I wondered where it had come from and if it were sewn on.
Everything around me seemed a little creepy, including the market, the caravan, and
the mask.
20 December 2008: School, torture, sex, and marriage
This is a series of four or five dreams, all recalled imperfectly.
I was in an enormous classroom when I noticed That Boy. I tried to think of ways to
attract his attention that would not be obvious, knowing that any effort would be futile. A
Beatles song came on, and I couldnt help dancing. But is that how I wanted to be seen?
I walked into a room where a teacher was performing evil experiments on EP, torturing
him with his mind. Although he inflicted no physical harm, the man would think of a
torture, and it would happen to a cartoon projection that I could see. It felt real to EP. The
cartoon was missing an eye and was covered with burns and other injuries. The torturer
then imagined eating EPs eye.
I received an anonymous card with a return address of Army Concert Band. I
wondered which of my friends had sent it, although I found the anonymity creepy. Inside
was a tattered antique booklet graphically depicting the tale of two Indian lovers. The
beautiful tiny paintings showed them nude, making love. One even moved, like an
animated graphic. I marveled at what it could mean, but it made me nervous, too.
Off in the distance was a breathtaking tropical sunset, and suddenly I realized I was
married to That Boy. We were traveling with a woman who I suspected of being behind
the Army Concert Band mailing. As for the marriage, it never went beyond outward
forms, and I could not think that it was real. We were disconnected people acting out
roles. I worried that he would find the booklet; perhaps I thought that it would look like I

was setting expectations that could never be realized. I tried to be loving, at least
outwardly so.
The time came to take a flight. I was especially nervous about it. The runway was a
strip surrounded by water. The plane never reached takeoff speed, and we ended up
somewhere else, still attempting to move more quickly. I would have been more frightened
had I known what had happened and how we had arrived there.
21 December 2008: Alpine journey
I was in the trailer, which was being driven through Switzerland side by side with
another trailer. The slopes were vertical, and I had no idea how we could get up and down
them without tipping over or plummeting. We used a clock, navigating according to the
vertical line between the 6 and 12. I was frightened when I realized there were no
windows, so no one could see where we were going.
We lost control and plummeted. Mentally, I prepared for death while hoping to survive
miraculously. To my surprise, I found that we landed right side up, side by side with the
other trailer, in the snow. This simply wasnt possible, yet there we were. None of it made
sense to me.
22 December 2008: Birds and butterflies
I was at home when I noticed a couple of enormous, disgusting cobwebs, so I got the
vacuum cleaner to sweep them up. When I did, I saw beautiful butterflies caught in them
and nearly became ill. As I went further along, I found entire bird carcasses, which was
even worse. Everything about it made me feel sick.
I emptied the vacuum cleaner into an underground chamber, which then I could see
had a drain. I thought it would be brilliant if I could wash away all those colorful bodies
and wings and feathers.
It occurred to me that I didnt know if they would fit though the drains, and I saw, or
imagined I saw, all the bodies and parts clustered in damp piles. I became even more ill, if
that were possible.
As I reached for the tap or hose to pour water into what I now understood to be a kind
of oubliette, I saw in gap in the floor between me and the water source. I could reach it
only if I could maintain my balance while extending to the furthest extent of my ability. If I
fell in, there was no way for me to get out and no one to hear any cries for help.
I was torn between washing away those bodies from my sight and memory and the
likelihood of falling in and becoming one of them.
I wondered if they were truly dead.
10 January 2009: Tree of terror
I dont seem to dream, or at least to remember dreams, during times of petty stress.
Perhaps even in my sleep, my subconscious doesnt have time to relax and stretch its
imagination.
I was back in college and could not explain in a satisfactory way, to myself or anyone
else, why. Not only was I aiming for the same degree, but I had a loan, no, a grant, to fund
this futile exercise in doing it better. It sounded ridiculous to me and my listeners.
Back in my room, I found that my computer speakers played a video of whatever I was
listening to, but I had to have a CD designed for it. When I tried it again, the speakers went
dark. Or were they now the wrong kind of speakers?

ECP parked in front of the house we rented, bumping the tree in front. Judging from the
scar on its trunk, it had been bumped before. I worried because it seemed loose, and I had
a vision of it falling over onto the house so that I lost everything I owned, including my
computer and backups. I sent AP to the town hall to have it removed, even as I
contemplated how it was at the corner of the house and was unlikely to fall onto it, and
how barren life would be without it.
At town hall, a block away, the functionary told AP that he seemed to be nervous. AP
replied, or thought he replied, Of coursebureaucracy makes everyone nervous! This
surprised the clerk.
At the house, I kept trying to see how unstable the tree really was, probably making it
even worse. (Did the tree represent my teeth?) Finally, I had ECP take a Polaroid photo of
it, although this doesnt seem logical now. When she turned to me with the camera,
unbeknownst to her, her face was screwed up in a combination of pain and horror as
though she had been burned. Forgetting that it was a Polaroid camera, I was impatient to
see what was wrong, but noticed the photo spitting out. It showed the tree engulfed in
flames. The concept that this was happening in another dimension was horrifying to me.
We were both frightened by more than a tree potentially falling over.
I was watching an old monochrome movie on campus in which men in medieval gear
were told there would be a bounty awarded to the man who returned with the kings right
arm. In the next scene, a man cornered another, who I sensed was not the king, and with a
short sword hacked at his right arm at the shoulder repeatedly to sever it. The victim, who
offered little if any resistance, fell to the ground as the other chopped. Each time a blow
was struck, hed cry out, ARRR! ARRR! ARRR! It was terrible to see, but the rhythmic
nature of his cries distracted me.
10 January 2009: Like City on the Edge of Forever
I had discovered a vintage box that somehow showed amazing scenes and items from
the past. When I peered into it, I could see scenes of an uncle in action during a war. It
was realistic, yet tinya strange, magical, and priceless memento of someone I did not
know. I imagined this clunky clear plastic brick held infinite memories of the past. Now
that I had found it, I could not conceive of life without it.
I may have bumped a corner accidentally and fretted that I had damaged it. In a while,
the scene went black, and nothing else came on. I noticed a wet spot on the brick and
wondered if it were leaking water and if that were causing the malfunction.
I was anxious to have it repaired, hoping that the functionality and the memories had
not leaked out with the water. I gave it to my mother and asked her to take it somewhere
for repair, but she put it aside in a place and way that made me afraid that she was simply
going to throw it out. I became terribly upset, wishing that I had been more careful if it
really were my fault, hopeful that I was wrong about her intentions, and fearful that I was
right. Part of me tried to understand that neither memories nor magic is forever.
22 January 2009: The phaser
Its happened before that Ive served aboard the USS Enterprise, although its not
always the same iteration. This time I was in front of something dangerous that seemed to
require me to get a phaser and fire at itbut I could not make a decision. I didnt know
where I was, what I was dealing with, what the rules were, or even who I was.

When finally I decided to get the phaser and fire it (hoping not to be caught if I were
doing the wrong thing), I wasnt sure it was at the correct setting or that was aiming at the
right spot to eliminate the danger. I pushed buttons randomly, not knowing what they did. I
was petrified of killing. But I felt an overpowering urge to take control and do something.
I lived through two variations of this scenario. In both, I had to make a decision. In
both, I dreaded being caught.
Its interesting how I translated my anxiety about the meeting today into the
opportunity to be a confused and anxious Star Trek adventurer.
I woke up thinking there should have been a difference between defense and
security.
26 January 2009: Woman, thy name is anxiety
As my life becomes less fulfilling, my dreams seem to be losing their rich mixture of
visuals and symbols.
I wasnt looking forward to today. I did not dream of demons or vampires, trains or
tunnels, or even of the cold Sargasso Sea. I dreamed that, at lunch time, I looked into my
wallet and found everything but money, my debit and credit cards, and my state ID. I was
a person with neither resources nor identity.
I think that must be how I feel.
I found it mysterious and amazing that these items, and only them, had disappeared,
and that my wallet was intact. How could that have happened? It puzzled and disturbed
me, as did the fact I did not know who to turn to for lunch funds.
Later I dreamed that at work my hearing had worsened and that I could not understand
anyone. I didnt want to admit it, but it frightened me.
I am all anxiety.
1 February 2009: Coming home to roost
Across the field the only thing we could see from our home were woods and the roof of
a white house. I was told that an old man lived in the house and that the flock of pigeons
on its roof belonged to him. I dont remember meeting him, and he and his house seemed
wondrously mysterious to me. Simply seeing its green roof among the trees made me feel
like I was living near a fairy-tale place.
One day the pigeons disappeared. The man had died. A large, unruly family moved
into the house. No matter how long and hard I peered at that roof, its surface unbroken by
white dots flying in and out and bobbing about, I could not bring the magic back. I always
thought it had died with the old man, but now I know I had grown up too much to be able
to perceive it anymore. It was gone forever. Now it was just a house among trees,
inhabited by a dysfunctional family that didnt love it or much else.
In my dream, I was looking toward the house and the trees that had sheltered it. Most
of them were gone, and it had become a vista of concrete monuments. (I attribute this to
having seen a photo the day before of the <a
href=http://www.galinsky.com/buildings/kennedymemorial/index.htm
target=_blank>John F. Kennedy memorial in Dallas</a>, a soulless monstrosity designed
by <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Philip_Johnson target=_blank>Philip
Johnson</a>.)
When I went to the town board to protest the ruthless destruction of the trees and
house (and the symbolic destruction of my childhood and its magic), I remembered I had

also seen concrete <a href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Olmec target=_blank>Olmec
heads</a> along this new skyline. Olmec heads are fabulous, but why had trees been
butchered for an ugly, tasteless representation of something that didnt belong there? Much
as I hated what I had seen, something about this point seemed wrong to me, and I
struggled to justify it even to myself.
3 February 2009: Icy doom
At the midnight hour, this dream should have frightened me, but it didnt. Not wanting
to let it go, I tried but failed to stay asleep. The feeling I had was extraordinary and better
than anything could be in life.
All I remember is that I was on a ship, perhaps even a boat, and that it had sailed into a
silence filled only with ice floes. We did our best to avoid them even as we marveled at
their beauty. Apprehension, though, descended on me as I became certain that, if we were
not even then sinking into them and the icy, still waters, we were bound to. The sky, the
water, the ice all looked like parts of an apocalypse. But I felt relieved, comforted, and
happy to experience such magic.
5 February 2009: Wrong side of the tracks
I noticed train tracks next to the house I was in, with two branches that ended in front
of it. I asked the owner how she could be sure the trains wouldnt veer onto the branch
lines and hit the house. She seemed confident that that would not happen, but I wasnt so
sure. When a train passed, it was uncomfortably close.
Another train came toward the house and seemed about to hit it on the other side. At
the last moment, it went around a odd, tight loop in the tracks to avoid the house. For the
train to go around the loop, its speed had been greatly reduced. I wondered if someday an
engineer would forget about the house and the loop and to slow down. I marveled that
anyone could live in a house with trains passing within inches on either side, with no right
of way or grades. Yet they were not full-sized, modern freight trains, and I didnt notice
noise or vibration.
Life seemed to be a train wreck, waiting to happen.
21 February 2009: College reunion
I walked into a room and discovered a lot of people I had known in college gearing up
to perform some of my favorite classic rock. TB was there, too, I am sure, because I felt that
inner longing to be noticed. I even thought that I might perform, and how could he miss
that?
I was happy and excited about all of it, but soon realized that I had to find a bathroom.
Did I want to be noticed for going on a quest for relief? And disappearing would mean not
being seen at all.
More happened, but I recall mostly a delicious sense of excitement and anticipation
about something unexpected and marvelous.
24 February 2009: The purse, the chef, the dancers, Todd Rundgren, and the
picnic
This must be an amalgam of several dreams. I dont know the order.

While shopping in a grocery store, I realized I no longer had a purse. I was certain that
it was lost, not stolen, and did not know how to find it or what to do.
I was in an extraordinarily long kitchen. While it was enormous, it bothered me that its
design was impractical. Instead of turning around between, say, counter and island, the
chef or cook would have to walk up and down an impressive distance simply to put a
recipe together. If someone could afford a mansion and a kitchen that size, couldnt he or
she manage to come up with a better use of the space?
Outside a chef was running after a train, perhaps having forgotten to give someone
something. It was important for him to catch up with it. He did, and then the train tore off
with him on it. Hed been kidnapped!
He must have escaped, for I saw him running toward me. I thought he might make it,
but the train soon reappeared, traveling at full speed. The chef could not run fast enough
along the track, and someone caught him up and carried him off again. The train reversed
and retreated. I felt badly that the chef had been fooled into being captured. It could have
happened to anyone.
When I looked up, the ceiling above was a glass dance floor. The dancers were dressed
formally in black ties, tails, and cocktail dresses. I noticed their shoes shuffling, packed so
densely overhead that I could see little else. I knew how they were dressed, however.
I heard myself being serenaded, although I didnt recognize the song. The performer
was Todd Rundgren, who was no more than two feet tall. I strained to understand what he
was saying and to understand the absurdity of it all.
I was on a hilltop overlooking a church or community picnic. The scene looked eerily
like a bucolic landscape painting, beautiful and serene. It didnt resemble anything at
home that I remembered. I also noticed that one or two of the trees looked tropical and out
of place. In the distance I thought I could see CS from my days as a docent. I was torn
between staying to enjoy the scene and feeling obliged to walk over and say, Hi. I
wanted to look at it forever.
7 March 2009: Smelly clothes and walking bus
I found myself in a large dormitory room for three and suspected that at least one of the
other two beds was HBs, my former roommate. The third may have been her sisters. It
was a warm, inviting room, but there were no desks. I became nostalgic for our desks,
institutional as they were, and the arrangements for them that we came up with.
While unpacking my suitcase, I was distraught to find that the only clothes I had were
the ones I was wearing and a nightshirt. I had brought bric-a-brac, but nothing to wear. At
first I hoped no one would notice as it came to me that I was there for only three days, but
in the end I announced my problem and apologized for the way I would look and smell
after a day or so. Strangely, I dont seem to have seen or spoken with anyone, as though I
knew all of this was only in my head.
I started to arrange the things I had brought, but became confused because there were
already a lot of knickknacks around, and I lost track of which were mine and which had
been sitting out already. One piece that caught my eye that I thought and hoped was mine
was a very thin slice of highly polished or treated wood, the cross section of a tiny tree
trunk or a branch. It was an amazing, magical piece.
I was on a bus that came to a river. To my horror, the bus kept going as though the
driver meant to ford it. I calmed down, thinking that perhaps the river was extremely
shallow, and I worried more about being swept away than sinking. The wheels did start

sinking into the water, and I was sure I had come to my end. Suddenly and rapidly the bus
unfolded stilt-like legs and walked across, its belly above the water. I was stunned.
22 March 2009: The abductors
Lately I have not seemed to dream much, or I have woken up remembering only some
uninteresting fragment. Mostly, I wake up as though from a void. I dont like this.
This afternoon I fell asleep while reading A Short History of Nearly Everything
and napped longer than I wanted to, but I slept more deeply than I do during the night. It
was more refreshing than any sleep Ive gotten in a while.
And I dreamed that I was visiting my father (but not my actual father), who I thought
oversaw the golf course at one of our communities. There was something about him,
however, that I didnt trust. He didnt seem to be much of a manager or to know anything
about the job. When security employees, who should have been part of his responsibility,
came by, he avoided rather than greeted them. This struck me unpleasantly, and I began to
wonder who he really was.
He had parked his car in or near grass next to the road and told me we were going to
hitchhike our way around the course. Before I could make him explain this strange
proceeding or either of us could so much as stick out a thumb, a strange vehicle pulled up.
It resembled the mobile billboards that are driven around downtown Chicago, but had a
narrow flat panel suspended underneath. I think the seats were all taken by members of the
drivers family, but he offered to let me squeeze into the narrow space between the two
billboard sides. I refused, so my father said he would. I lay on the panel underneath, only
too late realizing I could be thrown out of it as the vehicle rounded bends. Indeed, I nearly
was at the first turn, and I was so low to the road that I feared being flayed. The driver
seemed to be speeding along on what should have been a golf course road meant for
leisurely driving.
He drove for such a long time that I began to wonder if I had been abducted. Finally
the vehicle stopped, and I discovered that my father was gone, and so was the drivers
family. We were alone who knows where, and then I was sure I had been set up. It was all
very smooth, but I was not so afraid that I didnt think I could defend myself. I did realize
that he was a sexual predator, even as I remembered that that thought had come from a <a
href=http://www.theonion.com/content/video/paleontologists_discover_skeleton
target=_blank>video recently posted on The Onion site</a>.
I dont know what happened after that.
I learned of a sure way to have hair removed permanently from the legs, so I had it
done. (This is not something that troubles me when Im awake.) I had been warned that the
treatment might leave the fine, less visible hair behind, but it was guaranteed to remove the
growing dark ones permanently.
Weeks or months later I looked at the backs of my legs, and the backs of my thighs
were covered by thick white hair that was dense enough to be fur. It was very visible. I was
both horrified and puzzled, as the back of the thigh typically isnt hairy, so how had a hair
removal process caused white fur to grow where there had been little hair in the first
place?
The idea was so vivid that when I woke up I expected to see the back of my thighs
covered with white fur. I didnt look at or touch them.
29 March 2009: The pursuit

I was a child, and my parents and I had just moved, although we were now in a place
that was so close that it must have been almost next door to the old one. I liked my room,
which was very close, cluttered, and dark. But one day I remembered my memories and
returned to the old place to find them. I had left many things behind that meant so much to
me, but now I could find no way to carry them and no place to put them. I mourned these
many small things that were invested only with emotional value, sobbing even as I refused
to give up.
I was in an empty box car on a freight train and realized that a man was pursuing me.
The only place to hide was in an open alcove. If I were fortunate, he wouldnt look into it.
He passed by once without seeing me, but on the return trip he took me captive.
Something happenedI said or did somethingand my captor, now a woman, pulled
the pin from a hand grenade in response. I was horrified. Just then, the train separated, or
she fell off it, because I could see her figure on the tracks as the train I was still on pulled
rapidly away. She stood rather stupidly holding the hand grenade, neither throwing it or
running away from it. I didnt want to look, but I couldnt understand why she was
behaving so strangely and what was happening.
14 April 2009: Flight and the face in the mirror
When I first became aware, I was Ronald Reagan, I was flying a plane, and I was being
told to jump. At first the oddest part was being someone who was very old or dead when I
knew that I, whoever I was, was in my prime.
When I looked down, I saw only inky blacknessnot the glimmer of even a light, not
the swell of even one shadow. How could I be expected to jump into the void? If I didnt,
how could I land the plane in the void?
And even though I could see nothing, I felt the plane descending into the darkness.
Once a beautiful young woman, I was disfigured now and had no face, just scar tissue
where my face had been. Still, I dreamed of loving and being loved. One day I risked
entering the anchorite cottage, where I would be able to see myself as I had beenand
perhaps I hoped someone else would see me the same way. This magic came at a dear
cost, although I was uncertain what it was. As miserable as I was, it seemed that the reward
was worth the price.
I looked into the small wall mirror and saw myself with a face, even a beautiful one,
but I felt more puzzled than joyous. It was mine, yet not mine. What had been the risk of
seeing it? Why could I not stay in the anchorite cottage and enjoy the illusion of having a
face forever?
A man, perhaps a couple, came in. Maybe this was the man I loved or could love. He
or they did not notice me. Without the mirror, I saw that my illusory face was no more.
How could that be? It was supposed to appear in the anchorite cottage, but perhaps that
was the curse. I had had one tantalizing glimpse, and a dream for the future, and that was
it. It was the end of hope.
19 April 2009: Flying fish
I was on a small ship in a small sea, like the Mediterranean but colder. I sensed that it
was turbulent, and then noticed concrete bumpers everywhere. Strangely, my ship never
hit them. I was afraid, though, because I knew that if I fell into the water I would die almost
instantly from the cold.

An enormous fish leaped out of the water and flew by. Later I would tell someone that
it was airborne for 300 to 400 yards, although in the open water (with the concrete
bumpers) I had no way to judge distance.
The fish continued to fly around, each time landing a bit closer to the ship. After I
woke up, I realized that its landings in the water never created enough disturbance to rock
my ship, nor did the turbulence I had sensed, although they should have. Even more than
that, I was struck by the intelligent, malevolent expression on the fishs face as it looked
intently at me on its flybys. This was no fish, but a sentient force for evil.
Again I felt my awful fear of the icy water even as the fish looked knowingly at me.
2 and 3 May 2009: Twice trapped
In the wee hours of Saturday, I had a marvelous dream that I was sure I would
remember when I woke up. I didnt. I think it involved water.
I remember a second dream. I had to return to a party because Id forgotten something,
but the only way to it was by a stairway arched like a rainbow. It looked impossible to
ascend, but when I touched a step, it flipped, and the contraption started to move like an
escalator, with the steps on the other side flipping down.
At the top I tried to stop at the doorway, but the escalator kept moving. The door was
locked, anyway, and I wondered even as I passed helplessly by it if they would open it for
me out of kindness or only if I were demanding.
In the back of my mind I may have thought that the weird escalator was a circle, not an
arch, in which case it would drag me underground, perhaps crushing me.
In Sundays version, I thought some friends were getting onto an elevator with me, but
when the door closed behind me I was alone. I went to push a button, but there were
none. There was no door, either, and no way to get out. The only break in the solid walls
of the cubic chamber was the lighted digital floor number.
I marveled at how this had happened. I wondered if I should panic.
5 May 2009: Stairs to nowhere
More random bits from a few dreams: I came home to find a piece of a cats tail on the
floor. Horrified, I opened a drawer and found another piece in it. Feeling denial, I looked
at the cat, who indeed was missing part of his tail. The end was healed and covered by fur,
and there was no blood anywhere. It was as if this, whatever it was, had happened a long
time ago. I wondered about bits of flesh ending up in a landfill, which struck me as surreal.
When I picked up a dog, perhaps from boarding, I was surprised to find he could
speak, and I could understand him. He was equally surprised by my ability to
communicate. We thought it best to keep each others ability to ourselves.
I was at a bar or a house with a friend from high school and left to look for the
bathroom Id found earlier. I went down the same stairs, but they ended in a step up into
another room. I found more stairs, but they led down to stairs that went up. Some stairs
ended in a step down so huge that it was more like a wall. I could make no sense of any of
this, although at least I have seen the step up in some split-level houses. But there was no
reason for these oddities. I felt like I was in <a href=http://theavengers.tv/forever/peel1-
23.htm target=_blank>The House That Jack Built</a>.
Finally, I encountered some people I knew from school, always walking away. I
recognized them from the backs of their heads, even though I knew they wouldnt look like
I expected now, all these years later. I tried calling to some, but couldnt make any sounds.

I was grabbed by two robots or androids, one of which pinched my face and breast to
pin me down. They were looking for someone named Marvin, who I had to protect. A
phrase came into my head that I repeated like a mantra even as I woke up. Ive forgotten it
now. I tried to free my face and breast without sustaining injury or damage. I wondered if it
were possible.
10 May 2009: Awkward moments
A friend invited me to an event where we would be sitting near the members of the <a
href=http://www.dead.net/ target=_blank>Grateful Dead</a>. I was interested in the
event so I accepted, even though I wouldnt recognize any of them.
Once there, she pointed them out, so I was spared the embarrassment of having to ask.
She didnt mention names. All I thought was that they looked more cleaned up than I
expected and that I hoped no one would notice that I really did not fit in.
There was a break in the event, and one of them, who was seated in my row on the
opposite side of a semicircle, came straight toward me after my friend had gone to get
something. He spoke to me, and I was acutely aware that I was supposed to be thrilled
when all I felt was embarrassment that I didnt know his name and horror that my friend,
who would have been thrilled, was missing this. I sensed, however, that he had come over
to see me because she had left.
I was seated at a table at an elegant outdoor event. I suspect my mind chose that venue
because perhaps I would look my best if forced to be dolled up for something special, even
if unnatural for me. I was alone when who should appear but TB! All those dreams in
which I hoped and prayed he would notice me and all those dreams in which he didnt,
and all those dreams from which I awoke heartbrokenand now, out of nowhere, without
my thought or hope, here he was, about to fulfill my fantasy and speak to me! To
acknowledge my existence with words! What amazing things would we talk about? How
could I help him to discover the incredible, desirable person under the plain, dull,
withdrawn veneer?
So, he said, what do you know about <a
href=http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bozo_the_Clown target=_blank>Bozo the
Clown</a>?
(Nothing. I know nothing. I dont want to, either.)
I remembered the wise words of Spock: After a time, you may find that having is not
so pleasing a thing, after all, as wanting. It is not logical, but it is often true.
I wonder if I will dream about TB again. Rewind?
8 June 2009: Miracle poles
A high school friend invited me and others to a concert featuring a female rock
singersomeone who could fill a club or maybe an amphitheater, but not a stadium, a
woman whos more notable for influencing male rock stars than for her own performances.
(And someone whose music Ive never heard.) We sat near the front, where I held two
vertical poles that could connect to one another through cross pieces.
We won a drawing and were invited backstage during the break. My friends
disappeared, and I discovered that I would have to cross a gap high above the stage onto a
crumbling concrete ledge full of holes. I hesitated, wondering why this sort of thing always
happens to me, and swung over ungracefully by sitting.

While my friends were getting a conventional on the floor belowI could see them
from the perspective of a third party through the cross section of wall, similar to how the
inside of the Borg ship was sometimes shown on Star Trek: The Next GenerationI
was taken backstage and questioned. I was asked to whom a reporter owes his loyalties
from an ethics perspective. At first this seemed a simple questionthe employerbut later
I thought loyalty should be to the public and the public good. Feeling trapped, I suspected
my answer was unsatisfactory and wondered what I was expected to prove. I knew they
wanted my poles, which could help cure an ailing band member. Thats why we had
won the tour.
It must have worked because I found myself in the bands inner sanctum, the place
they didnt want anyone to know about. A series of grandmotherly women cried as they
lined up to hug me. I thought that no one would believe any of this.
Strangely, in all this I had never met the singer herself. As I contemplated and
questioned the positive review I would give the experience and thought about how moved
I was by it, I passed her and one of her intimate friends. They were deep in conversation
and ignored me. I was hurt and wondered what this snub meant after all that had
happened. I felt bitter and guilty about it.
10 June 2009: Love and fear in the magical forest
I was walking on the path along the woods at home, with the trees on my left and the
field on my right. In an instant, I was transported into a dense fairy-tale forest, where
among the trees were amiable people and interesting shops full of unusual wares. This
secret place, which combined the beauties of nature and the comforts of civilization and
art, was deeply mysterious and inaccessible. I had stumbled into a place that felt like
home, but I knew that I did not belong there.
The people there knew it, too. I sensed that they were afraid for me but they could not
warn me.
The deeper into this place I wandered, the more at home and the more fearful I felt
fearful that I could not stay and would have to leave. TJB was behind this. He did not wish
to drive me away, but I had to go. It was he who was influencing the people, much as he
have regretted having to do it.
Gradually I realized that I was dreaming, and I resisted waking up. I did not want to
break the spell and the hold the forest had over my heart.
8 July 2009: The candy store
I was semi-awake for what seemed like a long time, having a featureless dream that
resolved into my university campus. On one of its main streets I came across a candy store,
which made me sad. How could a candy store, which I associated with little children from
a bygone time, survive on such a campus?
In the twilight, I peered into the display window and saw a candy snowman with a
permanently sad candy face. The sight broke my heart, but I was distracted when I noticed
a child knocking on the door. She wanted to get in not for the candy but to play with the
little girl I now noticed in the closed store. Her African-American mother, perhaps the
owner, sat nearby in a rocking chair and didnt seem to notice the visitor or the knocking.
In a cradle lay a baby with an enormous cartoon head and lots of red hair, like Little
Orphan Annie. The inexpressible candy suffering on the face of the candy snowman and

the disturbing surreal appearance of the baby, combined with what I felt had to be the
inevitable failure of the store, upset me and made me wish I had not seen it.
Yesterday Id read some articles about senior executives and a few middle managers
being laid off, although it was claimed in all cases that the reasons were not financial. I
must not believe it. While this recession is different and not as evident as the Great
Depression with its lines of hollow-eyed, stony-faced workers, somehow I sense that we
cant hide it, or hide from it, forever.
We are the snowman in the window, exposed.
25 July 2009: My dinner with Dracula
I was called indoors to a family dinner, which I could not miss. I found myself looking
up dozens or hundreds of feet at a doorway to a castle. There was no way I could get in
that way, but I had to hurry.
I looked for someone to help me. In a dungeon I found what I believed to be the man
in charge, who would assist me only if I paid him. I couldnt. He was poorly dressed for an
authority figure, and I mistrusted him and his demands for money.
Next I came across a better-dressed man who really was the manager. He agreed to
help me into the upper part of the castle, but then he disappeared.
As I wandered the dungeon, I discovered an enormous bed, much larger than a king-
sized bed, that was old fashioned in design and coverings. It flashed upon me that it
covered a tomb where a vampire sleptthe vampire who was at dinner waiting for me.
I looked up to see that the high doorway had appeared in the midst of nowhere, with
the vampire standing in it, beckoning to me. I was terrified but felt compelled to follow
even though I didnt know what to do or how to do it. The vampire and the doorway
nowhere mystified, horrified, and paralyzed me.
30 August 2009: Pools and planes
I remember a few elements from my dream this morning, which, I think, took place at a
school.
I was with some girls at the edge of an enormous indoor pool in which marine
mammals swam. One or two of the girls, my friends, jumped into the water, which was
strictly forbidden. Guiltily, I ran away, not wanting to be associated with such behavior
and not wanting to be caught (in the sense that I didnt stop or report them). I worried
about this, and about the mammals catching diseases. I worried less about the girls being
hurt.
I went into breakfast. The boy or man at the end of my bench started to shake
voluminous amounts of salt onto the head of the girl next to me and then mine, so much so
that I had inches of salt on my head. Yet I did nothing because I didnt know what to do. It
was something I couldnt or shouldnt stop because it seemed to have some meaning.
Outdoors, a series of tiny but menacing airplanes came toward us. I didnt know what
to do as I didnt understand their intention. Vaguely afraid, I caught a few of them in my
hands and turned them around. More planes came, and I did the same. I am not sure what
happened to the ones I didnt catch, although I think they continued on Then, thinking that
that battle was over, I looked up and saw enormous tanks coming straight for me, rather
than for the group. I could do nothing about them as they werent robotic miniatures but
the real thing. I mentally prepared to die.

Instead, I was kidnapped. The kidnapper was a man who seemed smooth, charming,
and ambiguousI could not tell whether he was evil or not. He talked to me a great deal. I
didnt know his intentions.
9 September 2009: Weird physics
I was in a strange house with my brother and other people. Nothing was right, within
or without. The flows of time and space felt wrong, and the end seemed to be drawing
near.
When I saw a vase perched at a right angle to the floor of the fireplace, I had an
epiphanythe answer lay in physics. I became even more downcast, howeverI know
nothing of physics.
I thought of a child named Liu, who I knew could help. But how to find him in this
strange house, immersed in fluid and darkness?
18 September 2009: This is no place like home
I was at a party given by my parents, but the trailer was nothing like it used to be. The
rooms were dark and different, as though they had been rebuilt within a different shell. The
main room now sported an impossible cathedral ceiling that made it feel oppressive
instead of open and airy. My closet, although full of scattered boxes, was much bigger than
my bedroom and was covered with black paper. Despite its crammed space, it had
become the focal point of the party.
I saw my dad from behind, staggering as though he were drunk. As he never drank, I
suspected he was gravely ill and tried to catch up to him to help him, but he somehow
kept eluding me like an illusion.
Something was terribly wrong with my world, and I was frightened.
28 October 2009: Stray man and cat
A handsome young man seated at a table with his growing family kept looking up to
the stairs to the attic, where his pretty young wife sat with another woman, perhaps her
sister. Teasingly, yet meaningfully, the wife would tell him to mind his dinner. Like me, she
knew he was interested in the woman. I sensed a playful but real tension. The next time I
looked at the women, I realized the companion was just a girl, perhaps even an older
teenager. It came to me, too, that the man supported his family through petty crime.
The man left to meet another man; together they went in search of a particular cat. But
the cat eluded them, and they became transfixed by a different cat, which they caught. It
did not seem to mind. I doubted that either cat was really an animal and wondered what
their game was. They knew what they were doing and had something in mind. I was a little
afraid for the men, for although they were petty criminals, they were not evil at heart.
31 October 2009: Halloween vampire
A well-dressed man held a group hostage in an elegant dining room at a mansion.
They may not have known it, but I could tell he was a vampire. If they didnt comply with
his wishes, which were unknown to me, he would perform unspeakably gruesome acts.
He pointed to what looked like an ordinary coffee mug and handed a girl a twig,
almost like cinnamon bark. She, under his control, dropped the twig, a drug or poison, into
the cup, although part of me wondered how he would force the people to drink it. I knew

him to be evil, though, and in my mind I saw all of them tortured and dying if they drank
what was in the cup.
I dont know if I was the girl, or if I was an opposing power who controlled her, but she
tipped the cup so its toxic contents slowly and quietly spilled out. The vampire seemed
unaware, and I felt certain she would not be caught or punished.
With the cup, the balance of power seemed to have tipped in my favor.
17 November 2009: iPhone addiction
While I was visiting family, they offered to take me for a ride in the country. V. took the
wheel of the Jeep, which she never does. We drove across the hills in a way that struck me
as improbable. At one point the grass turned into a dirt road around a bend, but V. stayed
on the corner grass, giving us a bump.
Fighter jets flew in formation overhead. A few would have seemed strange, but there
were enough to indicate something big was happening here. In Pennsylvania? I thought
in disbelief.
We came to a cliff overlooking an artificially rectangular lake that was an unhealthy
green. We could see an enormous helicopter and a smaller plane submerged, but I was
told they had been there for years. By now some of the fighter jets were flying full speed
into the water, transforming into dark-green submersibles just before impact.
As we looked down the strangely sheer walls into the lake, we spotted what we
thought were bodies, but although they looked dead we became aware that they were
alive.
To my surprise and shock, CC threw my iPhone into the lake, which appeared to have
the effect of killing the bodies that hadnt been dead but now were. How we could tell this
I dont know. I felt guilty for their deaths, but mostly I wanted my iPhone back. Neither CC
nor anyone else seemed inclined to take responsibility, and I felt devastated even as my
waking mind wondered whether a saturate iPhone would work.
The lake lurked as the the most disturbing aspect, a chiseled, post-industrial, post-
apocalyptic morass, apparently filled with human and mechanical victimsour final
destination after an amazing ride among the lovely green hills.
20 November 2009: Around the bend
In a recurring dream scene, I returned to college to find that the campus and the
neighborhood were utterly unfamiliar. The dormitories had become Borgian labyrinths,
modern and strange, yet dark and cluttered. Outdoors I expected to find the usual bland
streets and city lights, but, as I usually find, there was a magnificent oceanscape and
natural area, just a few blocks away. As always, I wondered why I hadnt spent time there
back then, although I hadnt known it existed and wasnt sure it actually had. I mourned
the lost opportunity.
Some friends and I went to a restaurant in a crowded block of storefronts that looked
more like San Francisco than Hyde Park. Someone drove me and others home in a yellow
convertible roadster. When she parked in a narrow alley, I could feel the car inching
forward after she had gotten out, refusing to stay put. She noticed it, too. I called for help,
but the others had left. She and I managed to stop it, and she drove it forward onto what
looked like a hilly country road in Pennsylvania, around the bend. In the twilight, the car
suddenly looked pink.

The cars refusal to behave, the changing landscapes, and the altered color combined
to frighten me. I felt like I must be in a virtual funhouse, happy one moment, terrified the
next.
2 December 2009: Anxiety much?
Five days off, one day back to work, and already Ive relapsed into the habit of falling
asleep early, waking up in the wee hours, and nodding off lightly to have dreams filled
with anxiety. In this edition, I was lying naked but wrapped in a blanket (as I actually was)
in a strange bed, trying to sleep. This is where the line between reality and dream blurs.
I froze when the door opened, hoping not to be seen by the intruder. It proved to be
my brother, who crawled into the bed next to me while I contemplated the strangeness of
this strange place. I could see outdoors into the night.
Later, shaking with her irritation, my aunt asked me how I had missed hearing the
phone ring. I listened to a long, rambling, almost incomprehensible message from HR
about how Id never received formal permission to take these three days off and how I
would be subject not just to pay withholding and disciplinary action, but to dismissal as
well.
By now, I sensed that everyone was angry with me.
I was on a train platform for the next stage of my journey when I realized the train not
only was on the opposite track, but was going to pull out momentarily. Leaving everything
behind, I ran up the stairs to cross to the other side. Once I was there, children ran down
the stairs in front of me. I cursed them for slowing and blocking me, although they kept
well ahead of me, and I knew I could not catch up with them.
The platform emptied of people abruptly as I arrived, so with a sinking feeling I knew
the train was about to leave, and I marveled at myself because I had not brought my
luggage.
I woke up weary.
24 December 2009: Racing donkeys
[Afternoon nap.]
Someone was driving when I noticed he was about to hit the stop sign at the edge of
the grass. It fell over, so I got out to restore it while explaining to the driver why I hadnt
been able to make my mouth work to warn him. The bottom of the sign seemed to fit in a
stand I found in the grass, and I set both on the corner. As I did, I noticed that the stand
would fit perfectly into a compartment on a hitch on the back of a parked car, so I set both
the stand and sign there instead. Something didnt seem right, and I realized that when the
car drove off the stand and sign would go with it. That didnt make sense.
Somehow I was lured out of my apartment, which was taken over by sinister-looking
boys. Through the windows they threatened me with lollipops, then threw them at me
when I seemed determined to get in. I threw them back, wondering if they were poisonous
or explosive.
I was terrified of them.
While I was walking behind a cow, a hand reached out from under its tail and grabbed
mine. At first I thought little of this, but it held mine more and more firmly as the cow tried
to lead me somewhere, I knew not where.
This happened several times with other animals, including a donkey. Each succeeding
hand held mine more tightly, making each harder and harder to get away from. The

animals, if thats what they were, and the hands were trying to lead me somewhere bad for
me. I never found out where, although I was very curious.
With someone I was watching similar farm animals and camels burst into racing speed
for a short distance, then stop. We analyzed their movements, which were coordinated
and graceful and contributed to the surprising speed they attained. We learned it was due
to the influence of alcohol.
I woke up afraid, especially of the hands.
27 December 2009: Its complicated, or dream in three acts
While walking down a theater aisle, I spotted TB for the first time in months. As I
passed by, I quoted a line from a play in the voice or intonation of Orson Wellesor I
hoped I did. That should have gotten his attention. Immediately I wondered if I also looked
like Welles and what I had been thinkingthat he would fall for the same kind of talent
and abilities I do? In these dreams, I try to impress him and others with what I like.
I was wearing a light cotton housecoat when I realized I was standing in the middle of
a road at night, and a car was coming. I ducked into my closet, which was right up against
the narrow, shoulderless road, and tried to pull the housecoat around me and shut the
door, but the coat wouldnt fit around my breasts. The car passed within inches of me, and
I felt shaken by nearly being hit and seen.
I heard a former boss from PwC come along with someone. They talked about moving
some files in the closet on the other side. There was nowhere for me to go.
I went back to the hospital for a third procedure/second surgery and ran into T. F. F.
while waiting. I felt ambivalent about this, but when he tried to be apologetically
affectionate, perhaps even sexy, I didnt like it. I left to find a bathroom, but everything was
strange, with no doors or distinct toilets.
After passing through the corridors, I came upon a plaza of quaint stores like those in
Wheaton, Long Grove, and Geneva. Now I was confused. I went back the way I thought I
had come, but I was lost. Finally, I saw someone to ask for directions, but when I followed
them I ended up in what appeared to be a fancy drawing room with no other exit. It was
nothing like a hospital.
By now, I was panicking that Id been called for surgery while I had been wandering,
and a little worried that T. F. F. would think I had run off. I was anxious because I believed
this surgery was critical to my survival, and that Id walked out on my last chance for life
(surgery) as well as a renewed friendship that I no longer had much interest in. All I could
think was, Its complicated, but I did not want to explain why.
6 January 2010: Malicious fish
In this dream not much happened, but it was disturbing conceptually and visually.
My cat seemed normal, but I could tell that he was an empty shell filled with an
enormous, vicious-looking fish. I would open a flap to try to remove the fish, but couldnt
bring myself to touch it. It couldnt be left there, either, because it was evil. I wasnt sure
that anything was left of the cat. It was too late.
My mother and I were in the city, a place where Id never seen her. I observed myself
as a giant parade balloon against the night sky. I let go of my mothers string, and she
floated high into the air. Soon she crashed into the spot from which I had released her. I
felt horrible as she was injured and in painbut I must have known this would happen
when I let go. She tried to tell me the complicated way in which shed been repaired up

there, but this made no sense to me as shed been hurt on landing, not on rising. My head
swam.
I felt forlorn and terrible, although I thought I should feel light and free.
7 January 2010: Along comes Mary
I was with a group of people in a science lab who were intent on making something
that seemed like an arts-and-crafts project. I was more interested in flinging Mardi Gras
beads around and dancing. One tall man appeared to feel the same way, but he couldnt
quite make his way to me.
A musician was half sitting, half lying on the floor, his face stretched and mask-like as
though hed been burned. The only song I could hear was Along Comes Mary, which
never stopped playing.
The tall man, the musician, and I knew something the others didnt and were right to
focus on the dance. I could feel it.
17 January 2010: Trains, planes, and staircase monster
Fragments from a longer dream or seriesThe train was chugging along normally
when it decided to break apart. Cars and groups of cars spread out in different directions,
forming an instant, disorganized rail yard but without the tracks. The engineor was it the
caboose?wouldnt or couldnt stop and burst into steam or smoke. It was foreboding.
Again I was flying over a swimming pool that ran through a city like a river. Huge dark
shadows of enormous fish appeared just below the water, and planes ducked under the
water in pursuit. What are they doing? I asked. Catching fish, a voice answered. We
seemed to do the same. There were more planes making more dives than there were fish,
and I worried and wondered, but not about why.
I was looking for a street exit from a building, but kept getting more trapped. I would
come upon stairs, but they proved to be channels into which I had to fit to slide down.
There was no up. I began to think there was no out, either.
I was at the top of an ancient, crumbling stone staircase leading toward the bowels of
the earth. At the bottom was a walla dead end. A monster I could not escape had run me
to ground.
28 January 2010: Leonard Nimoy is ready for his close-up
At a strange mall, I was pursued by a group intent on killing me. I found a door,
opened it, and entered a space just big enough to hold me. It had no lock, which I hoped
my pursuers wouldnt notice. I tried to hold it closed by the handle, although it kept
changing and even disappearing. I didnt know how long they would look for me and
wondered if they were lurking, waiting for me to open the door. Something about the room
made me feel safe.
At the mall (or was it a film festival?), I took a photo of Leonard Nimoy with my iPhone.
Somehow I got word to him, and he searched until he found me. All he wanted was the
photo. By then, I couldnt find it on the iPhone. What should have been app icons had
become the blank edges of CDs, so I had no clue as to what was on them. He had
cornered me near a creepy house and frightened me without saying a word. Finally he left,
with a sad yet menacing expression.

Finally I found the photo, and he reappeared instantlyperhaps I or my mind called
out. As he walked off with it (somehow, as it was a file), he turned and blew me the lightest
of kisses.
30 January 2010: The cat impostor
My brother and I were flying toward and over the ocean on the open seat of a
hovercraft. It was exhilarating and more than a little scary.
At a house, everyone was preparing for a game or a class, but I kept looking out a
window at a street, where something about the buildings and even the weather wasnt
right. I recalled that there was supposed to be some kind of conflictI wanted trees
removed from along the shore to enhance the water views, while a large, powerful group
of neighbors was lobbying to keep them. None of it, least of all my viewpoint, made sense
to me.
The people of the house tried to get me to join the game or class, but I was distracted
by a young ginger-and-white cat on the basement steps that I was sure was some
reincarnation of my beloved tortoiseshell, Pudge. I didnt know why I was so certain, and
was confused and upset when the cat didnt respond to me at all. Surely Pudge would have
remembered me?
1 February 2010: Ducks in a row
Several men were playing an enormously long piano keyboard. Facing them was a row
of ducks trained to respond to their movements and cues. The ducks moved in patterns
with the music toward the keyboard, an amazing sight to behold.
I was standing next to a car door and holding a golf club, the head of which people
were supposed to hit (with a ball?). This would prevent something catastrophic from
happening. The onus was on me, although I just stood there.
A tower with a round top like a revolving restaurant or UFO loomed overhead. The city
seemed safe, but I feared that whatever held the tower together, perhaps a ring, would
come loose and would cause all to come crashing down around us.
I ran into an old friend from my first job, and we talked about her babies, with a
misunderstanding on my part because she meant only the youngest, while I referred to all
of them. To my dismay, I learned that the boy, the second youngest, was more than 40
years old, when I still thought of him as a 7-year-old. Future shock.
11 February 2010: Back to university, back at home
I was at your house, which was full of women and children. While the atmosphere was
festive, no one noticed me, and I wanted nothing more than to go to bed. No one would
stop to tell me where, and I wondered if I were invisible.
I returned to college because I thought there had to be more to the area than I
remembered. I set off for the bookstore, which was across a park green, although I knew it
might not be open. I expected it to carry the same things it had 20 or 30 years ago, as
though I had never left. As happens in this recurring dream, the landscape had changed
dramatically, and I found myself at the top of a hill looking down at a lush green hollow
where the road curved. Open-air arts and crafts booths, like something you might find in
the country, filled the hollow. It looked magical. I wondered how I could have missed such
a strange sight in the city 30 years ago.

I was at home in the trailer, where everywhere I lookedthe stove, even the kitchen
drawersthe gas was lit, although the flames didnt burn anything. I didnt question how
or why; I knew this to be part of my mothers cleaning ritual. I looked for her to ask her
how long she planned to leave the gas on and the fires burn. She said, At least one hour,
which made me nervous. She pointed to my dad, who was working outside on a bare pile
of dirt, and to an oncoming storm. Several trees had been broken up, and I thought about
how too many had been lost to development since I was last at home. I had a strange
feeling that soon none of the familiar trees would be left.
The storm slammed into the trailer in a way that made me realize it was more of a
hurricane or tornado than a summer thunderstorm. Its destructive force filled me with
terror.
When it moved on, the walls of the trailer were left flattened, and nothingnot even
the vintage metal suitcase of photoshad been left behind. My parents were standing off
to the side where my dad had been, hugging one another. My dad waved to me without
letting go of my mother. Despite the gesture, I had the impression that it would have been
okay if I had been blown away, too, but that may have been because the scope of the loss
left me devastated.
I wondered if the photos would turn up somewhere and if they would be too wet to be
salvageable.
1 May 2010: The Star Banger
I was in a futuristic city high rise when suddenly a giant star like a cookie cutter banged
against one of the full-sized glass windows in front of me. It came back and banged again.
Clearly, it was up to something bad as it tried to to break through.
Finally it did, but then it left. I raised my hand in salute, which made it return and crash
against the glass that was still there. Every time I made a gesture of thanks, it returned and
banged again.
I couldnt stop myself.
17 May 2010: In which Lovecraft haunts me
I was in a strange house, where a girl or young woman showed me a room that looked
like a semi-aquatic exhibit at a zoo. The back half was filled with murky water, and the
effect of the house and the room was to fill me a sense of horror and foreboding. The word
Cthulhul kept appearing in my mind, and for what seemed like hours I spelled it over
and over again, obsessively, stopping only when I woke up.
I have never read Lovecraft.
6 June 2010: In which I earn a degree without remembering
I was watching boys Id known in high school performing at my college, which
confused me. That they were playing the part of dogs controlled by a man at center stage
confused me more, but as an audience member I responded enthusiastically.
One of them, TL, called me over and handed me a request to pick up his medication. I
began wandering the labyrinthine halls of a rundown Gothic building with scratched
wooden doors that were missing locks, trying to find what I guessed to be a formulating
pharmacy. I understood that this errand wasnt important to the boy and that hed wanted
me to go away, but I also knew that the request was for asthma medication. I kept hearing,
Asthma: Life or death.

Finally, after having almost blundered into a secret research lab (one of the doors
without a lock), I came away with two bottles of medication. The only bathrooms I could
find were filthy. I thought about a couple of people Id seen and wondered how they could
have come to be here. They shouldnt and couldnt be here, but here they were.
I looked up to find DK staring at me as he was coming down an incongruous escalator,
but in an epiphany I realized I no longer cared and that somehow I had earned a graduate
degree in political science. I couldnt remember a single course. Ive done it again, I
thought, squeaked out a degree without having learned anything.
At some point, now or earlier, I was walking along a highway and up a ramp toward
home. The ramp suddenly blended into a grassy, rock-covered hill with no signs of
highway or pavement in any direction.
I felt more lost than ever.
13 July 2010: Ducks in a row
While looking out the kitchen window at home, I saw my dad pulling a red wagon
followed by what I thought was a mechanical duck. I wondered what kept it following him
so neatlya magnet? A string? By the time hed turned down the middle row, Id caught
up with the wagon, which was now followed by a line of live ducks, most of them young. I
couldnt tell what kept the ducks in line and so attached to the wagon. I felt compelled to
scratch them under their bills, which some but not all tolerated.
Although this scene seemed inexpressibly charming to me, suddenly I wanted to move
me and my dad into a shared two-bedroom apartment. I found one for $1,300 a month,
which I thought we could afford between us. My own actions made me sad, and I missed
the ducks and their parade with my dad.
14 July 2010: Return and return again (not the poem)
I dreamed about TB again, although I seem to have put the details out of my head as
soon as I could, or as soon as the tedium of work could. In this one I had at long last
gained his attentionnot his fixed attention or interest, but at least I wasnt invisible.
22 August 2010: Being human
Clearly Ive seen too many adverts for Being Human on BBC America. Theyve crept
into my dreams. However scary it may be, its no more horrifying than everyday life.
I saw a high school classmate receive an assignment, with different groups to complete
different parts. While I witnessed everything, I missed what I was supposed to do. I went to
the group I knew to be mine, but I didnt know them, and they didnt know me. The more
desperate I became, the more they ignored me. I didnt know the consequences of my
ignorance or inaction, of there were any. Intense frustration washed over me.
That wasnt the Being Human part. That could be any day, every day . . .
Monstrous beingsvampires, werewolveswere being pursued through the city by a
hunt club. Not entirely visible, they fled hounds and horses. Their flight led the club into
the track of an oncoming train. I couldnt bear to look at the carnage. When I finally did,
however, I saw that the train had cut cleanly through part of the lead dogs face, so that it
was in three-quarters profile, with no gore as though it were a paper cutout. I realized that
the rest of the tableau must be like that. They were now frozen in place in time, caught in
pursuit, with parts of their being slashed harmlessly and painlessly away. Yet I could sense
infinite sadness in the lead hound, and the same sadness overcame me.

When I woke up, I realized that what Id seen had not been a hound or even a dog.
It had been a fox.
23 August 2010: The unwelcome guest
I was hosting a reception at a reunion when a woman came in and made herself at
home without a word. I may have tried talking to her to find out who she was and why she
was there, but her actions and silence inflamed me into an irrational righteous anger. I
screamed and drove her out. She didnt make a sound or acknowledge me.
I returned to the room, which now seemed like a kitchen, and wrote a nasty note to
her. When I tried to deliver it (how could I know where?), I found the room of one of my
oldest friends from elementary school, but I hesitated to knock. I wasnt sure of myself.
After leaving my note with indignation, I returned to the reception room/kitchen and
found the business card-sized invitations. They consisted of two lines labeled a and b. I
discovered the one I somehow knew had been sent to the mystery woman. The a line
was addressed to her. The b line expressed a heartfelt hope that she would attend the
reception from which I had so angrily and crudely ejected her.
It was from my dad.
I had just revealed myself to be an irrational, cranky fishwife to someone my dad knew
and liked well enough to invite to the reception. I wondered if she were confused and
surprised by the vitriolic reception shed received and what she would think of my poor
father, who had invited her with such warmth.
I wondered about what is wrong with me that I could act so.
29 August 2010: The island
I was looking at an island full of animals, each a single example of its species. All off
them stood or lay around, looking exhausted or helpless. One, a cat or hyena, appeared to
be emaciated.
To my surprise, they showed no interest in interacting with one another. Surrounded by
prey, the gaunt cat/hyena seemed unwilling or unable to move.
Among the animals was a tarsier that looked out of place on the islands sands, out of
the trees. It seemed especially vulnerable.
Abruptly, a kudu attacked the tarsier, carrying it off. All of this was so out of the natural
order that I watched in shock, feeling a separation but not a detachment.
I was afraid to watch, but couldnt help myself. The kudu didnt know what to do with
the tarsier and kept licking it, although it did appear to want to eat it. The tarsier made no
effort to escape, appearing to be resigned to its fate.
I felt horrified and inexpressibly sad, as though witnessing part of an apocalypse.
23 September 2010: The watery apocalypse
I was under the desk at home, lighting matches and throwing them down. If the papers
I was trying to light caught fire, I put it out quickly. It flared once, so I had to tell my dad,
then I thought about getting a blanket.
I was in a very narrow pool in what could have been an industrial setting, swimming
toward a woman who could have been a coach or a friend. I sensed that I was training for
something big, even the Olympics, but the setting was all wrongmore like something
from a Batman movie or a book than real life. I wanted to avoid the woman.

I had to go to the bathroom, but the toilets were lined up along the pool, and they were
too high for me to reach, as though they had been built for giants, or I was very small.
Outside my elementary school auditorium, where I was waiting for a symposium to
begin, I saw a man I recognized from HR, and he saw me. When he came over, I noticed
that he carried a suitcase emblazoned with reach.com and realized Id met him at another
event.
I marveled at the idea that I was networking.
Inside the auditorium, the stage disappeared, and we could see Lake Erie as though
through a window. The water was rising in impossibly shaped columns and in a
cataclysmic tumult. The audience seemed frozen in terror, but I had to do something. The
end seemed near.
At the administrative office, I found the staff going about business as usual. Through their
windows I could see an idyllic sunny summer day. I ran to a door to the outside,
opened it, and saw more sun. I recalled the horror in the auditorium and wondered
which universe was real.
26 September 2010: The drowning bridge
I lived on a flexible, rust-painted bridge that snaked its way around a large body of
water. Just as I was thinking how fortunate it was that the bridge didnt dip underwater, I
noticed that the end of it next to me was submerged and that I was clinging to a portion
that was barely above water level.
I also realized that the bridge had an intelligence and will of its own and that I didnt
know what it might do next. It seemed that the end was caught underwater, but I wasnt
sure.
I became aware of a boy nearby hanging onto my parents open back door and
wondered if theyd adopted him. Determined to save him, I reached out, but he cowered
from me.
I didnt know where they were, I realized.
5 October 2010: Back to school
I was in a dark, oddly deserted apartment, where I noticed that there was no TV. I
thought about my roommate, realizing that Id seen her here only once, several days ago.
I was eating lunch at a picnic table with two boys I understood to be my friends,
although they were ignoring me. Suddenly there was something I had to tell them. They
didnt listen at first, but I felt immensely gratified when I did get their full attention.
I just had a vision or dream in which my major was hiking and backpacking, I told
them as though this were the most wondrous thing in the world, which to me it was, even
as I mentally noted that I had not mentioned anything difficult, e.g., rafting. They seemed
happy for me.
I asked the boy next to me for a tiny piece of the half chicken hed just taken, but
instead he gave me something from the scraps left behind. I felt distinctly unloved and
unappreciated.
As in other dream, I recalled that I have a degree, and I was starting to realize that not
only was my academic performance just as bad this time, but that I wasnt getting the
degree I seemed to want, in hiking and backpacking.
That will teach me to sign up for Road Scholar.

2 November 2010: Gothic college adventure
During a rare afternoon nap, I went back to college, was victimized by an
administration prank, pushed flatboats that were underwater further underwater, noticed I
had nothing with me, realized that skipping a year I would be graduating with strangers,
listened to the agony of a boy in love, and horrified my mother with my apparent lack of
underclothes. Busy afternoon.
I was back at college for a fifth year, this time because I had skipped a year. A couple
of boys and I were waiting in a small Gothic-style room, where we heard strange voices
and witnessed strange movements. At last a door opened behind us, and a dart flew past us
and landed with a hard thwack in the opposite wall. Although it had come from behind, I
knew it was no supernatural agency because somehow I had seen the dart throwera boy
from my high school. Even more odd, the college boys who couldnt have seen him either
and who had never been to my high school recognized and named him. As we tried to
open various doors, all locked, to escape, they told me this was all an administration ploy
to see how stressed we would be about filling out forms. Forms?
I finally forced one door open and found another door beyond it. To my relief, it
opened to the outdoors. Water flowed down the steps, and a flatboat passed and
disappeared under the flow as it went downstream. Tiny voices from another boat, girls
from high school, implored me to push them under and over as they were stuck. Without
seeing them, I did, and felt guilty.
I wondered why I was here and had taken a year off. I would graduate with strangers, I
thought, which I regretted.
In a hallway, I encountered a boy from college who was a year behind me, standing in
front of a door. Although he talked to me, it was as though I were not there. He poured out
his affection for some worthless girl who would never notice him, while expecting comfort
from the invisible. I had little to give as I had none for myself.
I found myself in a room with a long table, where the scene looked like an elaborate
18th-century banquet. At a sideboard, I bent slightly to pour coffee and heard a gasp
behind me. Without looking, I knew it was my mother, horrified by what she perceived as
my lack of underclothes under my skirts.
I wasnt wearing skirts.
12 November 2010: Who moved my theater?
I was at a high school reunion, where each of us had received a gift, probably a stapler.
I left for a while, and when I returned to the table the gift was gone. For some reason, I was
disturbed into outrage over this trivial loss and demanded that the hotel staff help me, but
they pointedly ignored me. I was beside myself.
As part of the reunion, we boarded a bus that headed west on 55th
Street/Garfield Avenue in Chicago. Our destination was a theater, where we watched a
musical that seemed to be part Big River, part Show Boat, and part
Dreamgirls, with the main story revolving around a African American singer
married to a Caucasian man in the 1960s.
The bleacher seats we were on started to move, and the scene changed to an outdoor
view of the Chicago River and a church in winter. I looked behind and saw tracks through
a back window, so I suspected the entire theater was on a track and could be moved to
change the scene, but I was mystified by the view of the river from that location. I sensed
that the theater could be moved to any scene and that there was more to this mystery than

moving within the limits of physical tracks. This, and that it was occurring in Chicago,
where I had not attended high school, bothered me, and I woke up frightened and
fascinated.
19 November 2010: Band on the run
I was standing up with the Beatles, all four, who were performing live. As with all my
dreams, I found myself there suddenly and didnt know why or what to do. i tried to keep
to a small side area I thought to be off camera. I could imagine the resentment if I appeared
to mar the reunion.
After an uncomfortable time, I noticed there was an audience, a congregation at a
synagogue. I was their rabbi and was expected to play a traditional instrument. I may have
surprised myself by being able to, unusual for me in a dream.
At a banquet hall, I walked past a table where TB was seated. He was quiet, but his
companions were discussing girls names, coming up with all kinds of dreadful
contortions. The only one I could think of was Anne, so I suggested it casually without
appearing to notice him. TB stirred, seemed to look at me, and to my shock threw in his
contribution: Diane.
Outside, I saw an entire orchestra roll by, each member strapped to an appropriately
sized single wheel. I marveled at the wonder and incongruity, then noticed a violinist for
whom it seemed especially dangerous. Some threatened others by rounding corners at too
much of a tilt. All were riding toward an apocalyptic sky.
It was then I realized I, in my form as the musical rabbi, was supposed to be leading
them.
18 December 2010: Demon spawn and the steps to nowhere
While I was with a friend or relative, she asked me to help her carry her two babies, as
they were becoming a heavy burden.
I took the carrier, which turned out to be an open-ended denim sling with a handle,
designed similarly to a fire log carrier. I was surprised to see that the babies were stacked
one on top of the other, and both were precariously hanging out the carriers ends.
Somehow this was my fault, and if something tragic happened it would be my
responsibility.
I took one of the babies out. It was an odd infant, with a large, bald head and a tiny
body. I began to feel uncomfortable. I took out the one underneath, afraid of what I would
find. It was alive and had an enormous head full of thick black hair, but almost no body.
Neither looked like any baby or human I had ever seen, and I was filled with a silent
horror. These werent anyones children. They looked at me precociously as I asked myself
what they were.
I tried to go up steps in a house, but they kept changing. They didnt connect from
level to level. I would reach the top of one set and be stuck, unable to reach the next set,
which would be suspended near the first at an impossible angle. I was trapped. Again.
26 December 2010: Road to joy
Sometimes its difficult to distinguish imaginings from memories. Im glad of this. It
pleases me that I dont know whether a strongly felt recollection is only a blip of the brain
that never happened.

In a variation of a recurring dream, Id traveled so far up Route 20 that Id found where
it ended in one or more trails leading into the woods. Down one trail lay the home of
family friends. It was so remote that we had rarely visited them. Whenever we left,
knowing that we would not return for a long time, the place had seemed to disappear into
the woods and out of sight, like a sylvan Brigadoon. To go there with my parents had been
a rare treat; to return there as an adult would be a thrill.
As I stood at the head of the path, I could recall how marvelous this place had made
me feel, with its unreal quiet and timeless, mythical serenity. I wondered why we had not
come here more often, although I knew that you can visit such a place only on its terms.
I couldnt remember any details, but I could sense them just beyond my
comprehension and reach. I was happy that I was about to arrive, but I knew that I never
would.
When I woke up, I realized there was no such place and never had been. But my
memories of it are powerful, and I long to experience those feelings again.
30 December 2010: My aunts house
I was at a combined high school-college reunion, interesting because I was the only
person common to both. I could not get anyone to notice or talk to me; it was as though I
were invisible or did not exist. After making countless efforts to participate, I gave up,
deeply unhappy and disturbed.
It was then I realized I was in my aunts house, which I had always found to be
mysterious. I remember, as though it were an actual memory, seeing alpine meadows
around it, although it was at the bottom of a hill in town.
In past dreams, just as I was leaving I would remember that I needed to check out the
upper floors of the house that I hadnt seen in years and the mysterious views of the land
around it. By then, though, it would be too late, and I would have to leave. The places and
views were always out of reach. This time, although I felt the urgency of time, I started to
explore the house.
The parts I saw were strange, but not in the way I remembered or imagined. When I
looked out any window, I saw the same viewa black rock canyon dotted by many cave
openings at which stood middle-class people dressed in middle-class clothes. They did
nothing but stand there, apparently peering outjust as I was doing.
I came to a floor that consisted of a wide, muddy, oval trackstrange, but not the type
of strangeness that I expected. I knew I had to wake up when I couldnt find the views I
thought I remembered or the visions I had hoped for.
As I woke up, I began to think of my aunts house as a variation on the TARDIS.
15 January 2011: In my fathers garden
I was at a performance or award ceremony in what I perceived to be my fathers
garden. All around me were trees, flowers, and grasses, and I felt supremely happy.
I went for a walk, and as I strolled about I noticed the landscape changing. Space was
shrinking, and the trees, flowers, and grasses were being replaced by stones, walls, and
other hard, colorless barriers. My formerly idyllic universe was changing, shrinking, and
hardening, even as I walked through it. I felt as though I could panic at any moment when
I realized the alterations were permanent and irrevocable. I couldnt breathe.
I found myself in a cave, clinging to a 160-foot smooth wooden pole that was larger at
the top, like a baseball bat. I didnt know how I could have gotten up there, but I told a

man across the way that I could slide down. He advised strongly against this plan, but I let
myself go just as I woke up.
19 April 2011: The glass battle and TARDIS trailer
The place was like home in some ways, but it was part of a war being fought by
animals and children.
An enormous animal, probably a cat or a dog, threw something into the garden.
Instinctively, I knew it was deadly glass, but I didnt know how it killed as its easy to avoid
stepping on glass when you know its there. As Id predicted, the missile shattered into
seemingly infinite shards of glass, but in a limited area that could be avoided. This puzzled
me.
Someone Id known from my first job walked up to me. He tried to say something, but
when he opened his mouth he spewed huge amounts of glass shards. I marveled and
feared.
I was back at my parents trailer, where I noticed my brothers bedroom had been
ripped out. Now my parents had a large, comfortable sitting room connected to their
bedroom, but I didnt understand how theyd accomplished building such a big room at
the back by removing a small room at the front. It was pleasing and puzzling and strange.
3 July 2011: The office
I had a new job where I worked at a desk that was side by side with others, like those
of Mary and Murray on The Mary Tyler Moore Show. Although management didnt like it,
we kept rearranging them like my college roommates and I used tofacing each other, at
right angles, and so forth.
I seemed to be doing well, although I worried a great deal about approvals. One day
when I was wearing a favorite dress (in reality, one that has been donated because the style
is too young for me), I was horrified to notice in a mirror that, while it didnt show anything
else, somehow it was sheer enough to show that I was wearing a bright white bra. I was
mortified, but no one seemed to notice. If they did, they appeared to accept me rather than
judge me. I felt strange and wondered how long it would last.
I went home and found that a man whod been haranguing people in the street was
looming in my front window, still shouting, but not at me personally despite the proximity.
When I went around the corner to the front door, where he would not be able to see me
(unfocused as he was), I found three strangers huddled there, also trying to escape him.
Did they think it was natural to walk into a strangers house under the circumstances? I
accepted this and talked to them. I dont know why we were afraid of being observed by
the mans unseeing eye.
28 August 2011: Gothic college
I was in a dormitory room at college, unpacking and wondering a little why I was
there. Something attracted my attention, and I looked out two sets of glassless windows
like those found in some neo-Gothic buildings. An angel or Cupid or similar figure was
swinging back and forth flush to the opposite wall on a long, black, flat pieces of metal.
Despite its benevolent aspect, I felt something was wrong. I sensed the figure and the
motion increasing in malevolence, then I saw it aim an arrow at me discreetly, a physical
impossibility given its plane and angle. I woke up as it released the string with a strong

sense that I should be dead but also that I should have been able to duck the arrow. I was
still frightened by the sense of evil.
7 January 2012: Date with a vampire
A vampire had threatened to get me, only I didnt know how. Soon I recognized him
near me in different guises, first as a child, then as an elderly woman who changed into a
beautiful young woman. I wasnt afraid to use my strength even against such incongruous
characters, but each succeeded in biting me, usually in the arm, but not enough to break
the skin. I felt strong but also like he might be toying with me.
Id gotten into an elevator with a cousin who was sitting in a folding chair. The elevator
started to go down with him, but my feet werent touching the floor. I panicked, although
at times my feet did touch. The elevator stopped between floors, with the chair now folded
up against the door and me suspended, yet not suspended. It was nighttime, and I began to
fear that we would never be found.
16 January 2012: The basketball tournament
As part of a basketball tournament my younger niece was participating in, I found a
display at my Aunt Ds house. Most of the coaches had provided their players photos and
statistics on boards, but my brother had sent a large box of disintegrating old books and a
small box of photos that had been ruined when someone colored out whole areas with a
crayon.
Some of the photos were of a beach vacation at a place where the summer light lasted
all night, and I kept thinking of Niagara Falls. The photos made me long to be at that half-
lit, surreal beach again, which I thought I remembered but didnt.
When I looked again in one hallway, all the displays were gone. The next hallway was
also empty. I was going to call my parents to pick me up, but had put my mobile phone
aside.
Toward the back of the otherwise empty house, I found some women waiting for an
elevator. One of them told me my aunts house was huge, even after shed closed off much
of it. This part was used for this elevator, which transported these women undergrounds so
they could get to their organization in the farmhouse across the field. All of this intrigued
me, but I wished I had my phone so I could leave.
Somehow I found myself carrying a bucket of ice for this organization across the field.
Instead of delivering it, however, I dumped it out into one of the fields rows, where it
mixed instantly with the dirt to become mud.
I continued to dream about the land where the sun never sets and my aunts limitless
house.
17 March 2012: Open floor plan
I was returning to my room in a dormitory when I made what I thought was an
innocuous suggestion to J. After becoming defensive and angry, he locked me out of my
roomI realized too late that he had the key.
I didnt want to call the police because doing so might affect a deadline he was trying
to meet. In a panic, I climbed to the floor above my room and saw that it was completely
open on topthere was no ceiling, just like in a dollhouse. I couldnt imagine how Id
lived there without noticing or knowing that. As I looked down, I saw a figure dragging J.

away while looking up at me and grinning evilly. It was someone I used to work for. I
wondered about his new role as dormitory head.
18 March 2012: Keeper of the kine
I found myself on a TV show, although I couldnt tell if it was a single episode or a
series, as a character called keeper of the kine. How Id become a television cowherd, I
had no idea.
I was in an empty classroom between classes, being tutored by a college math
instructor (real person) on a small part in a musical being staged just so he could spend
time with me and get me alone on an iceberg drifting from part of the stage to another. I
was supposed to kiss sea otters along the way. Worse, I (and others) was supposed to lip
synch because I couldnt sing. None of it made sense to me, and I was appalled by the
effort and expense this man was putting into making an impression on meand I didnt
even have a major role.

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