(10/31/07) squirrel nest; love handles

(Entered in paper journal at 5:30 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)

Dream #1

I stood in some open, public area with my friend KB and someone else, possibly KB's girlfriend. We looked up at some immense pole that stood atop some structure like a small building or ship which had the feeling of being sunk into an empty public pool. Atop the pole was a round-bottomed "net" of metal, like a domed jungle-gym turned upside-down.

KB mentioned that XXXXX (squirrels?) were making their nest in the net. She said, "It doesn't seem right. They'd fall right through the holes."

I said, "No. There must be something solid up there inside the thing that they use for support."

We had gone and gotten food. Then we climbed up the pole. We sat on some concrete platform an watched people in the public area below. We were supposedly feeding the squirrels, but we were the ones who were eating. We spoke a little more about how squirrels would make their nest.

At some point I figured I needed to leave. But I was worried whether I would be too afraid to go down the pole to get all the way down.

Dream #2

I was somewhere, doing some kind of work. My boss BS implied that I was lazy and that I didn't do a good job. I felt like BS was right. I was disappointed in myself.

I went into the bathroom. It was like I was in a cheap but modern house in the woods. The bathroom was small. It may have had dark orange walls.

As I stood urinating my head was just to the left of a small window with a frosted-style pane. The window was open just a crack, giving me an eye-level view of forest floor and some vegetation, as well as bright grey light, as if the window opened right at ground level.

Somehow I now saw myself from behind. I was a little fat. My lower back, especially around my hips, looked very wide. I also had stubble on my back, like I had shaved my back after it had gotten very hairy. I had a big ass, too. I thought, I guess my ass looks like a woman's ass. This was supposed to be a good thing.

My thoughts may now have turned to some "eighteenth-century play" in which a man spoke about a woman who had once been thin but was now fat. The man was mockingly pretending still to love the woman. The man said something about the woman's love being so ample that he needed two large handles on her back to hold onto it.

(10/9/08) business u-turn

Dream #1

It was a bright day. I was in a car with my boss BS and some other people. BS was driving us down a side road that was just to the right of a highway that ran slightly over the ground (and was supported by a concrete ramp, not columns).

We were all talking about something that would happen, possibly some people that were going to visit the place we had just come from. We thought it would be good to get information from those people. We were interested to hear (from our own conversation?) that they would be arriving. We all discussed the logistics of how we would arrange a call with them once we determined when they would actually arrive, which would be in the next couple hours.

Then, at an intersection, BS pulled a u-turn. We all wondered what BS was doing. He said he was driving back to where we had come from. I noticed there were a lot of small holes (like rivets?) in the road. We all asked BS why he would take our time like that, when we had finished everything we had done there. (The place we had come from may now have been Boston.) BS told us not to worry, that it was only a fifteen-minute trip, anyway.

We were now in a big room that was part of a house. The house didn't feel very well set-up at all. It also felt like it was in the middle of the wilderness. The room we were in was cluttered. It seemed to be full of fine furniture, like from eighteenth-century Europe, as well as a bunch of trash from the present.

BS had sent someone out to find if "the two (or three?) people" had arrived. The person came back and said that the people (each person representing a company) had arrived, but that each was now on a big conference call, discussing his respective company's earnings results.

BS seemed disappointed with me, as if I had told him we'd be able to see these people in person. He told someone that he wanted me to keep dialing the people's phone numbers until I got a hold of them, as it was  really imperative that we get information from them. We'd found out a lot on our own. But now we needed to verify it.

(5/28/09) for and against my defenders

(Entered in paper journal at 8:01 AM at Red Horse cafe in Brooklyn.)

Dream #1

It was a grey day. I was out on a lawny field that was bordered by a thick stand of old, wide-canopied trees, like a mix between a lawn in a suburban park and a lawn before a European mansion. There were a lot of people out on the field, loosely gathered as if for an ordered, festive ceremony. A group of older men, gruff looking, wide bodied, clean, but worn, sat at a table. The men were like a committee.

A group of younger men stood before the older men in some kind of ordered file. The older men made a judgment against one young man, probably me. The young man/I was a part of the group, but the young man/I wasn't actually standing with the group. The young men, all upset that the older men had passed judgment against me, came up with a plan against the older men.

The younger men, including me, were to give a display of arms before the older men later on. We all stood out on the field, before the table, at which the judges were not siting (having gone away for other events?). There may have been other groups among us, like people having picnics, etc. The young men went through a few moves with rifles.

Our plan against the older men was that at some point in our moves we would all turn our rifles upon the judges and shoot them. I thought this wasn't a proper thing to do. I tried to think of a way to get out of having to do it.

I was doing something with my rifle, and then with my bullets. I had taken an end off two of my bullets. Inside the cylinder of the bullets was dry, shaved material like little wood shavings or some kind of spice or tobacco. I figured I'd empty out the contents of these bullets altogether, so they'd be useless.

But then I figured even this would be no good. I couldn't be seen among the men as they shot the judges. I thought there had to be some way to stop the men from carrying out their plan. But I couldn't think of any way to do it.

I ended up asking one of the men near me about the trouble with my bullets, the ones with the open ends. I asked the man as if I were relatively inexperienced and he was something like a leader. The man may have been taller than I by far, as if I were now just a child. The man may have been wearing something like a British soldier's uniform and white wig, like from the eighteenth century.