(Entered in paper journal at 6 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I sat at a desk on an office floor that looked like a living room. The "office" was dim. In an office room, my co-worker DE was on the phone. There may have been a small, fluorescent light on in DE's office.
DE was praising a few people for always staying late. I felt ashamed for not always staying late.
One of the people DE praised was a tall, fat woman with pale blonde hair. Her name may have been Diana. She sat in the office next to DE and was an Administrative Assistant. DE listed a number of things she did, the last of which was, as DE said, to, "Yell a professors I wish I could yell at."
DE said, "In short, she does everything that makes people want to do this job in the first place."
Dream #2
It was a sunny day. I stood out with a group of people at the top of a wide, lawny hill. There were some office-type objects on the lawn. The group had been performing a task, which I may have had a hand in devising. Now we ran to a different part of the hilltop to perform a different task. I may have been angry that we dropped my project, but I tried not to show my anger.
The leader of the group said, "If everybody doesn't like doing this one task, each person can choose his own task." Some of us went back to our original task, which had something to do with catching boxes from the sky. Others did other things.
I was afraid to go back to my original task: I didn't want my boss to think I was a spoiled sport. But then I felt like she was okay with me doing whatever I genuinely wanted to do, so I stood at "my position" to catch boxes from the sky.
But a woman called out to me, "Watch out if you're standing here that you don't let the boxes fall on me." I looked down to the ground. A blonde woman in cream-colored exercise pants and a backless, black leotard was in a stretching position in which her legs stretched out on either side of her at right angles. The woman had her back straight, parallel to the ground, and her face almost flat against the ground. Even though I couldn't see the woman's face, I could tell it was really pretty.
I was about to step away, but I think the woman said, "You don't have to move; just watch out for me."
I suddenly realized I was really turned on by the woman's healthy, sexy body and her stretching position.
Dream #3
I was in a dim bar, getting drunk with my co-worker CJ and some other people. CJ and I had gotten so drunk that we were now wandering the streets.
CJ had a rusty hanger, probably bent out of shape, into something more like a prong, with a sharp end. CJ would put one end of the hanger in his mouth and then swing the rest of the hanger around by wiggling his head. Then he would take the hanger out of his mouth and throw it down the street. I was worried, each time CJ threw the hanger, that the hanger would hit somebody.
The street was lovely, clean, clean-bricked, and softly lit, all under a dark black sky. We walked some more, then found ourselves in a circle in some suburban-looking area. The circle felt like a street for cars, but it was probably paved with tan-colored cobblestones that seemed to me to be more fit for a walking path.
It was now broad daylight. CJ had a straight, metal rod, rusty and thin, like the hanger had been. CJ was still sticking this rod in his mouth and throwing it around. He laughed, like this was a really liberating activity. I still kept worrying that the projectile would stab somebody.
Now CJ wanted me to throw the rod. I decided that this was the wrong place to be.
I saw a crystal-white, almost fairy-like airplane high in the air. It was diving almost straight downward. It had crystalline contrails streaming back behind it. I thought the craft would crash.
I backed away from CJ. I stood in front of a small shop. I looked into the window. The shop looked like a barber shop. It looked very nice, like very rich people were inside, relaxing before a weekend morning haircut. I didn't want the people inside to think I was some bum, so I walked away from the window. I caught a glimpse, looking down to my right, of a quaint, tree-lined street.
I walked back to the circle. I heard CJ had been fired. I may have been in a dim room and standing behind a nice couch.
Showing posts with label co-worker CJ. Show all posts
Showing posts with label co-worker CJ. Show all posts
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Monday, February 18, 2013
(8/31/07) las vegas taco bell; mute phones; pressure helmet; acquisition; cartoon aircraft; lesbian bergman; i look fat
Dream #1
I heard someone talk about some financial project to rebuild Las Vegas. My view descended to the left and down a steep dune of sand in which were embedded signs for casinos, like in the (at the time I entered the dream in my paper journal) new Resident Evil movie ads. I thought, That makes sense. Las Vegas is ready for a change.
I now saw a Taco Bell restaurant. It stood alone in a parking lot. It may have stood slanted. Its sign was shredded like it had been a tarp-like or awning-like sign hanging on the building. The inside had a weird, torn-to-pieces look as well, like the glass doors and windows were busted and swirling around.
I heard a narrator say, "All the work that went into creating this one store was destroyed in a very short time by the angered workers." I thought that this one store meant a lot to the operations of the overall company. Now it was gone.
I stood in line at a Taco Bell with my co-worker CJ. The line was all tall, white, overweight businessmen in suits. CJ was preparing a speech he would give when we got to the front of the line. I was hoping the speech wouldn't anger the workers or the people standing in line. CJ assured me it wouldn't. It was possibly about the need to rebuild the torn-to-pieces restaurant now that it had been destroyed.
The store in which we stood was dim. There seemed to be no seating area: the front area was entirely taken up by a belt-strap line-maze. The only other area was the cashier counter and the food-prep area. Dim natural light came in through the window. The cashiers stood on a platform maybe two feet in front of us. In front of us was a platform elevated maybe a foot from floor-level. CJ stood on that platform to give his speech.
Dream #2
I sat in a kind of dank, yellowish presentation room on a high floor of "my office building." A lot of people from "my work" were there. I sat somewhat in the back, toward the right wall. For some reason, maybe because I was slouching (or lying down?), I couldn't see to the front of the room.
A very important person, who worked for our company but who came from a different location, had come to speak. One of my senior colleagues from a different department of my company, maybe BSi, brought the man up to speak. The person may have had shaggy, red hair and a shaggy, red beard.
BSi said something to the effect of how much progress we'd made in our work. Someone's voice came on over the phone/intercom and made a snide comment about the internet, implying something about our company. BSi asked, "Could everybody listening in please mute their phones?"
The person on the phone/intercom interrupted, "No. We won't mute our phones. I'm not going to be quiet now." The person continued ranting. I was trying to figure out who he was. I knew I knew him, but I couldn't figure out who he was. He sounded laid back, not angry, but definitely like he was going to stand his ground.
I had the image in my mind of a tall, brown-haired frat-boy I knew in college. I told myself the person on the phone couldn't be this boy, because I didn't work with him nowadays. The person had to be someone I currently worked with.
A couple of my friends must have known who the person one the phone was. They stood up, walked toward me, somehow signaled they were going to the guy's desk office to stop him before things got worse, and left the room. I heard the man continue ranting. The last thing he said had to do with police putting handcuffs on him.
Dream #3
I sat on the floor and beside either a table or the back of a couch. I was speaking with someone like my old friend ML about preparations for some aircraft like an SR-71. Some man stood near me. I was saying things in hopes of impressing him. The man and I were in a room like a dining room. It had a messy feel somehow. ML stood just beyond a wide doorway into another room.
ML told me I had forgotten something for the pilots' helmets. I started fiddling with some criss-crosses of transparent tape on the tablecloth or sofa covering that seemed to be attached to black velvet. I asked what help the forgotten additions would be, anyway.
ML angrily said, "They'd help the pilots fly more comfortably!"
I could now see in my mind's eye that I had forgotten to add a seal to the helmet. This seal would make the helmet and the rest of the pressurized suit continuous and closed. The helmet and the suit may both have been black.
I got mad at myself. All this time I had tried to act smart to impress the older man, who was like a General or an esteemed inventor. But now I turned to him and said, "Why do I always forget things like this?"
The old man said, "Don't worry about it. You just need more experience. I had similar troubles when I was younger."
Dream #4
I sat out in a wooded area, on a folding chair before a folding table like a TV-dinner table. I got a phone call. One of my boss BS' clients asked me about one of the companies we did research on. BS wasn't around, and I didn't want the client to go away empty-handed.
I put the client on hold. I didn't know whether anything new was happening with the company in question, though I knew the question had something to do with another company, a company called Northwest XXXXX (can't remember), possibly with them wanting to buy the company in question. But I couldn't turn on my computer to see what price the stocks for the two companies were trading at.
I just picked the phone back up and started speaking. I hoped I would know what I was saying. The client asked me more questions.
Now there were two men standing by me. They were both tall, in shape, maybe in their late thirties. They asked me more questions.
We were now in a car, driving in a suburban, residential area to a meeting with (the men's client? possibly a meeting with Northwest XXXXX?). I sat in the backseat. I was telling the men about how the difference between the first company in question and Northwest XXXXX was only marginal and how a deal with the two companies would only be of little benefit to Northwest XXXXX.
The clients said something like, "You're giving us a lot of information we normally wouldn't get from your boss." I felt flattered by the comment.
We pulled up to a (vanilla-yellow colored?) house. This was the office where our meeting would take place. I said, "I'm sorry I'm not dressed up." (I was just wearing jeans and a t-shirt.) "I wasn't expecting to do a meeting like this. You caught me off guard." I might have sounded apprehensive, or even a little annoyed. But I was really excited about the whole situation.
Dream #5
Some cartoon-like description of an aircraft. At some point the aircraft could fly on its own. There was an image of five aircraft below the main aircraft somehow being vaporized -- even with a "POOF!" caption. This would be the first time that the craft had flown on its own.
Dream #6
I read or heard something about photos that celebrities in the 1940s and 1950s didn't want people to see. I opened a book or turned a page to see one of the photos. It was of Ingrid Bergman in a Fallingwater-style house, in a hot tub with a blonde woman, getting ready to kiss the woman. Both women were fully dressed, and their clothes were completely dry. This photo was so shocking and scandalous to me that I slammed the book shut.
Dream #7
I stood in an aisle of a store like a K-Mart. I stood before a display of women's two-piece bathing suits. I tried on one of the bathing suits. I realized that the rule was to wear your underwear when you tried on bathing suits. I'd brought a pair of pink panties with me -- just in case I'd wanted to try anything on. I put the panties on.
There was a woman standing behind a desk, possibly in a place like the electronics department. She was watching me. I knew that was okay. She was just making sure I didn't steal anything. But I was hoping I would finish up before any customers came by and saw me.
I looked down at my body. I was disappointed. I looked a little fat.
I heard someone talk about some financial project to rebuild Las Vegas. My view descended to the left and down a steep dune of sand in which were embedded signs for casinos, like in the (at the time I entered the dream in my paper journal) new Resident Evil movie ads. I thought, That makes sense. Las Vegas is ready for a change.
I now saw a Taco Bell restaurant. It stood alone in a parking lot. It may have stood slanted. Its sign was shredded like it had been a tarp-like or awning-like sign hanging on the building. The inside had a weird, torn-to-pieces look as well, like the glass doors and windows were busted and swirling around.
I heard a narrator say, "All the work that went into creating this one store was destroyed in a very short time by the angered workers." I thought that this one store meant a lot to the operations of the overall company. Now it was gone.
I stood in line at a Taco Bell with my co-worker CJ. The line was all tall, white, overweight businessmen in suits. CJ was preparing a speech he would give when we got to the front of the line. I was hoping the speech wouldn't anger the workers or the people standing in line. CJ assured me it wouldn't. It was possibly about the need to rebuild the torn-to-pieces restaurant now that it had been destroyed.
The store in which we stood was dim. There seemed to be no seating area: the front area was entirely taken up by a belt-strap line-maze. The only other area was the cashier counter and the food-prep area. Dim natural light came in through the window. The cashiers stood on a platform maybe two feet in front of us. In front of us was a platform elevated maybe a foot from floor-level. CJ stood on that platform to give his speech.
Dream #2
I sat in a kind of dank, yellowish presentation room on a high floor of "my office building." A lot of people from "my work" were there. I sat somewhat in the back, toward the right wall. For some reason, maybe because I was slouching (or lying down?), I couldn't see to the front of the room.
A very important person, who worked for our company but who came from a different location, had come to speak. One of my senior colleagues from a different department of my company, maybe BSi, brought the man up to speak. The person may have had shaggy, red hair and a shaggy, red beard.
BSi said something to the effect of how much progress we'd made in our work. Someone's voice came on over the phone/intercom and made a snide comment about the internet, implying something about our company. BSi asked, "Could everybody listening in please mute their phones?"
The person on the phone/intercom interrupted, "No. We won't mute our phones. I'm not going to be quiet now." The person continued ranting. I was trying to figure out who he was. I knew I knew him, but I couldn't figure out who he was. He sounded laid back, not angry, but definitely like he was going to stand his ground.
I had the image in my mind of a tall, brown-haired frat-boy I knew in college. I told myself the person on the phone couldn't be this boy, because I didn't work with him nowadays. The person had to be someone I currently worked with.
A couple of my friends must have known who the person one the phone was. They stood up, walked toward me, somehow signaled they were going to the guy's desk office to stop him before things got worse, and left the room. I heard the man continue ranting. The last thing he said had to do with police putting handcuffs on him.
Dream #3
I sat on the floor and beside either a table or the back of a couch. I was speaking with someone like my old friend ML about preparations for some aircraft like an SR-71. Some man stood near me. I was saying things in hopes of impressing him. The man and I were in a room like a dining room. It had a messy feel somehow. ML stood just beyond a wide doorway into another room.
ML told me I had forgotten something for the pilots' helmets. I started fiddling with some criss-crosses of transparent tape on the tablecloth or sofa covering that seemed to be attached to black velvet. I asked what help the forgotten additions would be, anyway.
ML angrily said, "They'd help the pilots fly more comfortably!"
I could now see in my mind's eye that I had forgotten to add a seal to the helmet. This seal would make the helmet and the rest of the pressurized suit continuous and closed. The helmet and the suit may both have been black.
I got mad at myself. All this time I had tried to act smart to impress the older man, who was like a General or an esteemed inventor. But now I turned to him and said, "Why do I always forget things like this?"
The old man said, "Don't worry about it. You just need more experience. I had similar troubles when I was younger."
Dream #4
I sat out in a wooded area, on a folding chair before a folding table like a TV-dinner table. I got a phone call. One of my boss BS' clients asked me about one of the companies we did research on. BS wasn't around, and I didn't want the client to go away empty-handed.
I put the client on hold. I didn't know whether anything new was happening with the company in question, though I knew the question had something to do with another company, a company called Northwest XXXXX (can't remember), possibly with them wanting to buy the company in question. But I couldn't turn on my computer to see what price the stocks for the two companies were trading at.
I just picked the phone back up and started speaking. I hoped I would know what I was saying. The client asked me more questions.
Now there were two men standing by me. They were both tall, in shape, maybe in their late thirties. They asked me more questions.
We were now in a car, driving in a suburban, residential area to a meeting with (the men's client? possibly a meeting with Northwest XXXXX?). I sat in the backseat. I was telling the men about how the difference between the first company in question and Northwest XXXXX was only marginal and how a deal with the two companies would only be of little benefit to Northwest XXXXX.
The clients said something like, "You're giving us a lot of information we normally wouldn't get from your boss." I felt flattered by the comment.
We pulled up to a (vanilla-yellow colored?) house. This was the office where our meeting would take place. I said, "I'm sorry I'm not dressed up." (I was just wearing jeans and a t-shirt.) "I wasn't expecting to do a meeting like this. You caught me off guard." I might have sounded apprehensive, or even a little annoyed. But I was really excited about the whole situation.
Dream #5
Some cartoon-like description of an aircraft. At some point the aircraft could fly on its own. There was an image of five aircraft below the main aircraft somehow being vaporized -- even with a "POOF!" caption. This would be the first time that the craft had flown on its own.
Dream #6
I read or heard something about photos that celebrities in the 1940s and 1950s didn't want people to see. I opened a book or turned a page to see one of the photos. It was of Ingrid Bergman in a Fallingwater-style house, in a hot tub with a blonde woman, getting ready to kiss the woman. Both women were fully dressed, and their clothes were completely dry. This photo was so shocking and scandalous to me that I slammed the book shut.
Dream #7
I stood in an aisle of a store like a K-Mart. I stood before a display of women's two-piece bathing suits. I tried on one of the bathing suits. I realized that the rule was to wear your underwear when you tried on bathing suits. I'd brought a pair of pink panties with me -- just in case I'd wanted to try anything on. I put the panties on.
There was a woman standing behind a desk, possibly in a place like the electronics department. She was watching me. I knew that was okay. She was just making sure I didn't steal anything. But I was hoping I would finish up before any customers came by and saw me.
I looked down at my body. I was disappointed. I looked a little fat.
Monday, February 11, 2013
(9/21/07) mick jagger: ice cream bully
(Entered in paper journal at 7:30 AM at Starbucks on 56th Street and Sixth Avenue in Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I may have been standing out on a lawn with a group of people. We'd finished working on some long project, which had apparently been physical, but which I then remembered as having been something like preparing for a court trial. It was like we were a jury and we had been preparing for the trial by finding the evidence ourselves.
Now either the trial was over or the evidence finding part of the trial was over and the trial was beginning. we were all relieved. This had been one of the longest times it had ever taken to find evidence. But one of us said, "Isn't there a group on the other side of the earth that has taken an even longer time?"
Our leader, a woman, said, "There is." I saw, for a moment, a photo of a group of Latin American people, mostly men, mostly wearing soccer jerseys, like soccer fans, on a sunny day out on a field like ours. The woman continued, "I'm planning on giving the people on the other side of the earth a congratulatory call and see how their trial is going right now."
We were all in a room. In the next room our trial was getting ready. The next room was dark wood, with some kind of a counter like a breakfast bar and then a kitchen area behind that. In front of the bar was the place where the jury sat. It was like a rubber doormat on a heavy, yellow, metal or plastic platform that shifted left to right as if it were on ball bearings. We could lay on the platform and watch the proceedings (in the kitchen area) as if we were watching TV.
The trial was about the murder of a little girl. The murderers might have been the little girl's parents. But at some point the trial became just a discussion of some industry, and we were all waiting around to hear one particular data point about the industry.
At some point I got bored. I walked out. I came back in just a second or two later, but the data point had already been said. My co-worker CJ had gotten it.
I now sat with a group of women right before the bar. A man who looked like Mick Jagger saw in the kitchen area. He kept handing us ice cream, sundaes, and hot fudge. The girls would eat the stuff. I kept thinking about eating it, but I didn't want to eat right now because I was scheduled to eat somewhere else shortly.
I thought, Perhaps when I go out to eat, I can by myself a sundae, maybe even a Peanut Buster Parfait. But I thought I probably wouldn't do that because that would be too many calories.
But now Mick Jagger became a lot more bullying. He insisted that I eat some of the ice cream. He even put a bowl of hot fudge in front of me and told me to eat that. He then sang a song about how I was in deep trouble if I didn't do everything he told me.
Dream #1
I may have been standing out on a lawn with a group of people. We'd finished working on some long project, which had apparently been physical, but which I then remembered as having been something like preparing for a court trial. It was like we were a jury and we had been preparing for the trial by finding the evidence ourselves.
Now either the trial was over or the evidence finding part of the trial was over and the trial was beginning. we were all relieved. This had been one of the longest times it had ever taken to find evidence. But one of us said, "Isn't there a group on the other side of the earth that has taken an even longer time?"
Our leader, a woman, said, "There is." I saw, for a moment, a photo of a group of Latin American people, mostly men, mostly wearing soccer jerseys, like soccer fans, on a sunny day out on a field like ours. The woman continued, "I'm planning on giving the people on the other side of the earth a congratulatory call and see how their trial is going right now."
We were all in a room. In the next room our trial was getting ready. The next room was dark wood, with some kind of a counter like a breakfast bar and then a kitchen area behind that. In front of the bar was the place where the jury sat. It was like a rubber doormat on a heavy, yellow, metal or plastic platform that shifted left to right as if it were on ball bearings. We could lay on the platform and watch the proceedings (in the kitchen area) as if we were watching TV.
The trial was about the murder of a little girl. The murderers might have been the little girl's parents. But at some point the trial became just a discussion of some industry, and we were all waiting around to hear one particular data point about the industry.
At some point I got bored. I walked out. I came back in just a second or two later, but the data point had already been said. My co-worker CJ had gotten it.
I now sat with a group of women right before the bar. A man who looked like Mick Jagger saw in the kitchen area. He kept handing us ice cream, sundaes, and hot fudge. The girls would eat the stuff. I kept thinking about eating it, but I didn't want to eat right now because I was scheduled to eat somewhere else shortly.
I thought, Perhaps when I go out to eat, I can by myself a sundae, maybe even a Peanut Buster Parfait. But I thought I probably wouldn't do that because that would be too many calories.
But now Mick Jagger became a lot more bullying. He insisted that I eat some of the ice cream. He even put a bowl of hot fudge in front of me and told me to eat that. He then sang a song about how I was in deep trouble if I didn't do everything he told me.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
(10/16/07) where the new building was; emergency party; like a worm made out of brains
(Entered in paper journal at 5:50 AM on Q-train from Brooklyn to Manhattan.)
Dream #1
I watched, from the back passenger seat, a car pass a field with trees like cherry trees. Somehow I thought this was where my company's new building would be (in waking life, my company was in the final planning stages for moving into a new building -- we would be fully moved in, if I remember correctly, by about July of 2008 -- only to be moved into another building in January of 2009!)
I thought, This would be a nice area to take runs. There was a path running through the field. We passed along a creek or river at the bottom of a slope of rocks. The creek itself was rocky. An empty boat, with two paddles, clanked along some of the rocks.
I thought, But this is New York City. The roads are bad on (my boss) BS' knees. We really couldn't come up with a running route that would be good for BS. I also thought of asking my co-worker CJ if he wanted to run.
We passed another river, which ran at the bottom of a waterfall. The waterfall gushed over huge, round, coppery rocks and flooded the river.
We passed a building that was built in three sections. I saw it from the back. The two back sections were roundish with green, metallic framing for the windows. The front section rose slightly above the back sections and was octagonal, probably of pink stone, with a shallow, a-frame roof. It was in a field of dry, yellow-tan and orange-tan grass.
Now it was like I sat backwards, looking out the back window, in the backseat and on the driver's side. My mom was driving the car. My brother and sister were also in the car. We drove on a straight road, through slightly rolling stretches of flat plains -- yellowy-tan grass with some hints of green and orange and some glimpses of rich (?), brown soil beneath. There were occasional, thin clumps of trees, the green of their leafs as pale as floating clouds.
Then I saw a white tree. It was de-limbed, so all it was was a white trunk with four limb-stumps coming off of it. It looked like a wild, raging horse to me.
I thought my mom would be impressed by how much I liked looking out the window. I asked my mom some question relating to telling her about the things my siblings and I had done. My mom surprised me by answering something like, "I don't care. Don't tell me anything." I tried to change that statement into something more positive in my mind.
We passed a stand of thin aspen trees that edged before some tall, redbrick buildings like apartment complexes.
Dream #2
I sat in my desk at work. There was an alarm. A man's voice came on over the alarm's intercom speaker. The man announced a party (?) in XXXXX's office.
When the alarm had first come on, I had been afraid, wondering if the announcement would be for an actual emergency. I had worried whether I would do everything alright and help everybody effectively through the emergency. Now I was a little disappointed. It was just a birthday party?
For some reason I wasn't wearing shoes. But my shoes were sitting right next to me. I picked up my shoes and walked to the cubicle in front of the office where the party was. The party was, somehow, both in the office and down the hall.
The party was for one of my co-workers, AR, who was, like myself, an Administrative Assistant. Someone told AR, "You could be head of GM (i.e. Global Markets) one day! You throw parties so well!"
I was disappointed. Hadn't my old co-worker and mentor ES, now herself an Analyst like my (and, before, her) boss BS, said to me once, "You could be CEO of this company one day"? (I'm pretty sure that in waking life ES never told me that, although she has always complimented me on my "abilities" -- whatever those abilities are/were!)
I now reflected, Maybe you just said all that stuff to kind of puff up your assistants, make them feel more important than you really think they are, just so you can keep them working. How else, I thought in my jealousy, could someone make such a kind statement about AR, who, I peevishly thought, scarcely worked as hard as I worked?
I didn't even want to go into the room now. I was too ashamed. I took my time putting on my shoes.
AR called, "Preemie, get in here!"
I said, "I'm coming."
She said, "I've been making decisions to be nice. But pretty soon I'm going to have to stop making decisions!"
I thought, Nobody's going to talk to me that way!
But now both AR and ES were out in the cubicle with me. They were both saying nice things to me.
Dream #3
I sat watching a movie. I walked out and then back in. I walked up to my seat as the movie was ending. There were shots of blue sky and power lines, vistas of plains, and other shots I loved. The narrative of the film ended, a song began playing, and the credits began to roll.
But as the song started, a voice (of some Hispanic boy?) called out, "Hey, uh... The film is pretty much ended, everybody. We would appreciate it if you got up and left."
I was in a front row. I had my stuff sitting against the railing in front of me. I stood to pick it up. I had forgotten that I had brought a coat. I had actually brought a lot more than I had remembered.
I walked out into the hallway, which was like the hallway in a city building, just off from the reception lobby. I stood in a weird junction of hallways and right by a garbage can. I stood talking with two black girls.
The girls mentioned a young man, one of their co-workers (they all worked at this movie-house), who did a lot of other stuff. I wasn't sure what the "other stuff" was. I asked, "Does he work somewhere else, too?"
The girls got upset, like I had insinuated that all the boy could do was work in places like this. One of them said, "No. He goes to school. He's studying to be a scientist."
We talked a little more. Then I had to leave. One of the girls walked with me out into the dark, blue-grey evening. The girl smiled and said, "I've always wanted to see the car you drive."
We stood in a mostly empty shopping mall parking lot. The movie-house was now more like a restaurant. I saw my car in the distance. It was an old, beat-up car, like one I drove in my last year of high school -- except that the paint job on the car was now all new and shiny.
I thought, I can't let the girl see that thing. Besides, this girl wasn't the girl I wanted. Both girls were pretty. But the girl I liked, the other girl I'd been talking with in the movie-house hallway, had rounder eyes, not thin eyes like this girl.
The girl with me stopped to talk with a mother and her kids, who stood by a van. I thought, While the girl's not paying attention I can drive away. That way she won't see my awful car.
I turned to tell the girl goodbye. But I saw her from behind and was too surprised to say anything. The girl was now short, ugly, and poor-looking (???!!! -- I'm sometimes shocked by the things I've said!). She wore a blue t-shirt and tight blue jeans which showed off her big bottom. Her big bottom really turned me off.
A black man who was about my height and a little bigger than I, smart-looking, with thin-rimmed eyeglasses, walked past me. I must have thought this was the friend the two women had been talking about in the movie-house hallway.
I thought, Now's my chance to prove I don't think the girls' friend is capable only of working in a movie theater. I apparently thought I could do this simply by making small talk with the man in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. I said, "Hey, man, we'll see you later."
The man walked past me without even regarding me. I thought, Okay -- you show kindness and it isn't returned!
I walked toward my car. My mom walked beside me and to my left. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. The phone (a regular, old-style flip-phone -- as I remember it from waking life, a black Nokia) was cracked. I thought, Maybe it's just cracked on the surface. But I opened it to see that the crack ran across all its surfaces. I looked at the sides. They were messed up, too.
I almost started crying. I thought, What did I do to make this happen? Can't I take care of anything I own?
It was now more like daytime. The car was by the entrance to the mall. My mom and I were at the end of the parking aisle, maybe twenty feet from the car. We passed a needle-leafed tree in a planting island.
I had been speaking with my mom and barely attending the stout tree. But, reflecting on the tree after we'd passed it, it struck me that the tree had weird, tiered, pink and white flowers on it. I told my mom, "Let's go back. That tree looks weird."
We went back. I looked at the branches. There were strange, but somehow sensible, tan-brown, brittle, cone-shaped things standing atop the thin branches. I thought, Maybe I just mistook these things for flowers.
But then I saw, out of the corner of my eye, the pink and white flower. I hadn't seen the flower because it was on the periphery of the tree, not in the center, where I had focused my gaze.
The trunk of the tree seemed to end about two feet up from the ground. From the top of the trunk came an agave-like plant with spiny, yellow, purple, and green leafs. I said, "That's what I thought I saw! Isn't it odd?"
I reached out to touch the plant, to make sure I was seeing leafs and not more cones. The plant felt odd. And when I pulled my hand back, I noticed the top leafs moving, as if of their own volition. I thought, That can't be real. I have to be seeing things.
My mom and I were walking away. But the plant really bugged me. I had to look at it again. I told my mom, "Something else didn't make sense." I didn't want to tell my mom what didn't make sense -- namely, that the plant seemed to be moving on its own.
We went back to the tree. Now I saw that the plant grew out of a hollow in the top of the tree trunk -- although it was a part of the tree. I saw steady, directed movement from within the trunk. I knew the movement wasn't volitional, but that it was growth -- life.
I saw a spiky (like a sea-cucumber), worm-like appendage emerge from beneath the leafs. I shouted to my mom, "See?! I wasn't imagining! This thing is growing quicker than normal!"
The thing emerged, as huge as a boa constrictor, and wove its way through the thin branches of the tree. It was like a worm made out of brains, with a head like a gigantic breast. It hung over a branch above us. I knew if it touched us it would incorporate us.
I told my mom, "Run to the car!" We ran and got in.
The thing was growing. It had taken over the tree and spread toward us through the parking lot. I didn't know if we could get started and drive away quickly enough.
I saw a car coming from an underground parking garage to the left of the tree. Now the parking garage was like a car wash. It sprayed water all over the car. Jets of water flew outside the garage. They hit the plant-thing. As soon as they did, the thing dissolved into yellowy, thickish, soapy-looking water.
I hoped that more cars would come through the garage to get washed. The thing was dissolved now, but I felt like it would regain its consistency. I thought that more water needed to hit the thing before it would lose its ability to re-stabilize.
Dream #1
I watched, from the back passenger seat, a car pass a field with trees like cherry trees. Somehow I thought this was where my company's new building would be (in waking life, my company was in the final planning stages for moving into a new building -- we would be fully moved in, if I remember correctly, by about July of 2008 -- only to be moved into another building in January of 2009!)
I thought, This would be a nice area to take runs. There was a path running through the field. We passed along a creek or river at the bottom of a slope of rocks. The creek itself was rocky. An empty boat, with two paddles, clanked along some of the rocks.
I thought, But this is New York City. The roads are bad on (my boss) BS' knees. We really couldn't come up with a running route that would be good for BS. I also thought of asking my co-worker CJ if he wanted to run.
We passed another river, which ran at the bottom of a waterfall. The waterfall gushed over huge, round, coppery rocks and flooded the river.
We passed a building that was built in three sections. I saw it from the back. The two back sections were roundish with green, metallic framing for the windows. The front section rose slightly above the back sections and was octagonal, probably of pink stone, with a shallow, a-frame roof. It was in a field of dry, yellow-tan and orange-tan grass.
Now it was like I sat backwards, looking out the back window, in the backseat and on the driver's side. My mom was driving the car. My brother and sister were also in the car. We drove on a straight road, through slightly rolling stretches of flat plains -- yellowy-tan grass with some hints of green and orange and some glimpses of rich (?), brown soil beneath. There were occasional, thin clumps of trees, the green of their leafs as pale as floating clouds.
Then I saw a white tree. It was de-limbed, so all it was was a white trunk with four limb-stumps coming off of it. It looked like a wild, raging horse to me.
I thought my mom would be impressed by how much I liked looking out the window. I asked my mom some question relating to telling her about the things my siblings and I had done. My mom surprised me by answering something like, "I don't care. Don't tell me anything." I tried to change that statement into something more positive in my mind.
We passed a stand of thin aspen trees that edged before some tall, redbrick buildings like apartment complexes.
Dream #2
I sat in my desk at work. There was an alarm. A man's voice came on over the alarm's intercom speaker. The man announced a party (?) in XXXXX's office.
When the alarm had first come on, I had been afraid, wondering if the announcement would be for an actual emergency. I had worried whether I would do everything alright and help everybody effectively through the emergency. Now I was a little disappointed. It was just a birthday party?
For some reason I wasn't wearing shoes. But my shoes were sitting right next to me. I picked up my shoes and walked to the cubicle in front of the office where the party was. The party was, somehow, both in the office and down the hall.
The party was for one of my co-workers, AR, who was, like myself, an Administrative Assistant. Someone told AR, "You could be head of GM (i.e. Global Markets) one day! You throw parties so well!"
I was disappointed. Hadn't my old co-worker and mentor ES, now herself an Analyst like my (and, before, her) boss BS, said to me once, "You could be CEO of this company one day"? (I'm pretty sure that in waking life ES never told me that, although she has always complimented me on my "abilities" -- whatever those abilities are/were!)
I now reflected, Maybe you just said all that stuff to kind of puff up your assistants, make them feel more important than you really think they are, just so you can keep them working. How else, I thought in my jealousy, could someone make such a kind statement about AR, who, I peevishly thought, scarcely worked as hard as I worked?
I didn't even want to go into the room now. I was too ashamed. I took my time putting on my shoes.
AR called, "Preemie, get in here!"
I said, "I'm coming."
She said, "I've been making decisions to be nice. But pretty soon I'm going to have to stop making decisions!"
I thought, Nobody's going to talk to me that way!
But now both AR and ES were out in the cubicle with me. They were both saying nice things to me.
Dream #3
I sat watching a movie. I walked out and then back in. I walked up to my seat as the movie was ending. There were shots of blue sky and power lines, vistas of plains, and other shots I loved. The narrative of the film ended, a song began playing, and the credits began to roll.
But as the song started, a voice (of some Hispanic boy?) called out, "Hey, uh... The film is pretty much ended, everybody. We would appreciate it if you got up and left."
I was in a front row. I had my stuff sitting against the railing in front of me. I stood to pick it up. I had forgotten that I had brought a coat. I had actually brought a lot more than I had remembered.
I walked out into the hallway, which was like the hallway in a city building, just off from the reception lobby. I stood in a weird junction of hallways and right by a garbage can. I stood talking with two black girls.
The girls mentioned a young man, one of their co-workers (they all worked at this movie-house), who did a lot of other stuff. I wasn't sure what the "other stuff" was. I asked, "Does he work somewhere else, too?"
The girls got upset, like I had insinuated that all the boy could do was work in places like this. One of them said, "No. He goes to school. He's studying to be a scientist."
We talked a little more. Then I had to leave. One of the girls walked with me out into the dark, blue-grey evening. The girl smiled and said, "I've always wanted to see the car you drive."
We stood in a mostly empty shopping mall parking lot. The movie-house was now more like a restaurant. I saw my car in the distance. It was an old, beat-up car, like one I drove in my last year of high school -- except that the paint job on the car was now all new and shiny.
I thought, I can't let the girl see that thing. Besides, this girl wasn't the girl I wanted. Both girls were pretty. But the girl I liked, the other girl I'd been talking with in the movie-house hallway, had rounder eyes, not thin eyes like this girl.
The girl with me stopped to talk with a mother and her kids, who stood by a van. I thought, While the girl's not paying attention I can drive away. That way she won't see my awful car.
I turned to tell the girl goodbye. But I saw her from behind and was too surprised to say anything. The girl was now short, ugly, and poor-looking (???!!! -- I'm sometimes shocked by the things I've said!). She wore a blue t-shirt and tight blue jeans which showed off her big bottom. Her big bottom really turned me off.
A black man who was about my height and a little bigger than I, smart-looking, with thin-rimmed eyeglasses, walked past me. I must have thought this was the friend the two women had been talking about in the movie-house hallway.
I thought, Now's my chance to prove I don't think the girls' friend is capable only of working in a movie theater. I apparently thought I could do this simply by making small talk with the man in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. I said, "Hey, man, we'll see you later."
The man walked past me without even regarding me. I thought, Okay -- you show kindness and it isn't returned!
I walked toward my car. My mom walked beside me and to my left. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. The phone (a regular, old-style flip-phone -- as I remember it from waking life, a black Nokia) was cracked. I thought, Maybe it's just cracked on the surface. But I opened it to see that the crack ran across all its surfaces. I looked at the sides. They were messed up, too.
I almost started crying. I thought, What did I do to make this happen? Can't I take care of anything I own?
It was now more like daytime. The car was by the entrance to the mall. My mom and I were at the end of the parking aisle, maybe twenty feet from the car. We passed a needle-leafed tree in a planting island.
I had been speaking with my mom and barely attending the stout tree. But, reflecting on the tree after we'd passed it, it struck me that the tree had weird, tiered, pink and white flowers on it. I told my mom, "Let's go back. That tree looks weird."
We went back. I looked at the branches. There were strange, but somehow sensible, tan-brown, brittle, cone-shaped things standing atop the thin branches. I thought, Maybe I just mistook these things for flowers.
But then I saw, out of the corner of my eye, the pink and white flower. I hadn't seen the flower because it was on the periphery of the tree, not in the center, where I had focused my gaze.
The trunk of the tree seemed to end about two feet up from the ground. From the top of the trunk came an agave-like plant with spiny, yellow, purple, and green leafs. I said, "That's what I thought I saw! Isn't it odd?"
I reached out to touch the plant, to make sure I was seeing leafs and not more cones. The plant felt odd. And when I pulled my hand back, I noticed the top leafs moving, as if of their own volition. I thought, That can't be real. I have to be seeing things.
My mom and I were walking away. But the plant really bugged me. I had to look at it again. I told my mom, "Something else didn't make sense." I didn't want to tell my mom what didn't make sense -- namely, that the plant seemed to be moving on its own.
We went back to the tree. Now I saw that the plant grew out of a hollow in the top of the tree trunk -- although it was a part of the tree. I saw steady, directed movement from within the trunk. I knew the movement wasn't volitional, but that it was growth -- life.
I saw a spiky (like a sea-cucumber), worm-like appendage emerge from beneath the leafs. I shouted to my mom, "See?! I wasn't imagining! This thing is growing quicker than normal!"
The thing emerged, as huge as a boa constrictor, and wove its way through the thin branches of the tree. It was like a worm made out of brains, with a head like a gigantic breast. It hung over a branch above us. I knew if it touched us it would incorporate us.
I told my mom, "Run to the car!" We ran and got in.
The thing was growing. It had taken over the tree and spread toward us through the parking lot. I didn't know if we could get started and drive away quickly enough.
I saw a car coming from an underground parking garage to the left of the tree. Now the parking garage was like a car wash. It sprayed water all over the car. Jets of water flew outside the garage. They hit the plant-thing. As soon as they did, the thing dissolved into yellowy, thickish, soapy-looking water.
I hoped that more cars would come through the garage to get washed. The thing was dissolved now, but I felt like it would regain its consistency. I thought that more water needed to hit the thing before it would lose its ability to re-stabilize.
Friday, November 16, 2012
(9/24/09) currency problem; flying vampire snake
(Entered in paper journal at 7:25 AM at Red Horse cafe in Brooklyn.)
Dream #1
I may have been in an office with a man about my age or a little bit younger. The man was thin, with longish, frizzy hair, possibly some stubble, and deep, brown eyes. Hey may have been wearing a t-shirt and jeans. He sat at a desk, leaning far back in a chair that had a flexible, reclining back. I may also have been looking at my BlackBerry, possibly at the Financial Times website.
The man laughed casually about me about my old co-worker TB because TB had a subscription to the Financial Times. But even though I laughed and thought it was one of TB's quirky-classy things, I also thought it was probably a good idea to have a subscription to the Financial Times myself. And it was a pretty good deal, I told myself: only twenty dollars a month!
I walked (out from under an open-air, sheltered, makeshift "office," like a field lab?) through a park-like area, possibly down a slightly long slope in coldish, blue shade. I was still looking at my BlackBerry, possibly at an advertisement showing that a subscription to the Financial times was only twenty dollars a month.
I then came under the shelter of a makeshift office, basically a complex of tarp-like roofs supported by branches and limbs. There may have been desks and computers in this "office," but there was also a lot of cluttered, random stuff.
I looked at a news alert email on my BlackBerry. It said something like, "Great Britain and Spain Decide to Unite in Business." For some reason this didn't seem very profitable to me. I thought of investments I needed to get out of before all this stuff happened. I was reluctant to get out of the investments. I had hoped for so much from them.
I was out of the shelter again and walking down a long hill in the sunlight. TB and some other of my old co-workers (DE and CJ?) were talking casually and laughing with each other about the Great Britain/Spain news. They were down at the bottom of the hill, but I could hear them as if they were right next to me.
But soon I was near my friends (though I couldn't actually see them anymore). They, seeing me, told me their problem. One company they (we?) did research on was British or Spanish but made a lot of its sales in other nations. My friends were trying to figure how to model and forecast sales and operating profits from these nations in both British and Spanish (?) currency.
To my friends this was an unsolvable problem, or one that required too much work. They wanted me to confirm that for them (???). TB, whose face I could now see, in closeup, with a tight sky behind him, joked, "Say we have the Chinese currency, the Yemibi or Yemimi or whatever you call it. How can we put that into British and Spanish currency? I don't think there's a practical way to do it."
We now walked toward my left and into an office which first was just a couple of desks and computers outside and then actually was like offices indoors. TB sat in one desk and DE sat in another desk at the opposite end of the room, slightly behind me, so I couldn't quite see him, and almost like he was in another room altogether.
TB sat back in the chair relaxedly, pushing the flexible seat-back backward and either stretching his arms out or holding them behind his head. I could see now that TB and DE had been looking to me for an answer, and possibly also to work to put something together for them, but that they had been afraid to ask me.
I now tried, as casually as possibly, to explain how I would translate the currencies by using the U.S. dollar as a common point. I tried to sound, as I explained, like I was happy to help. (During this explanation I woke from the dream. But I continued to try and work this problem out.)
Dream #2
I stood out in a field, possibly something like a farm field, with two women. The sky was yellow, like in a van Gogh painting. We stood on a path or a road of deep brown soil. On our right and left the land mounded up, slightly obscuring what lay on either side.
One woman (a park worker, DR, from volunteer projects I'd done) pointed things out for us, making it somewhat clear that this place was like a farm. She now pointed out, on the left field, a snake. Somehow I could see over the mound, getting a pretty clear view of the left field, which was bare, brown (and furrowed?) soil with one smallish tree (possibly with red fruit hanging from it) standing in the distance.
A red and black striped snake, like a coral snake or a king snake was moving away from under the tree, not slithering, necessarily, but inching along, like a caterpillar might be seen to do, by scrunching up its body and then pushing back outward. But the snake made two scrunches in its body. The snake also looked somewhat plastic or polished, not quite scaly or real.
DR and the other woman (my mother?) began talking about other things about the field, when I suddenly noticed the snake stretch itself upward diagonally, so that its body was taut and its head stood high in the air.
The snake now also seemed a couple times larger than it had previously been. The snake was now lifted, by the momentum of its erection, up into the air. It leaped a long distance. I cried out to DR and the other woman, "Look! The snake is flying!"
The snake repeated the process, this time becoming even larger and leaping even farther, coming closer to us. The women said, "Oh, that's silly. Snakes can't fly. The snake isn't flying."
The women turned away from the left field to divert our attention as I saw the snake leap again. Now I saw the snake fly over the right field, hovering in the air, in a somewhat random coil, almost approaching a figure-eight shape. The women had turned their attention back to the left field, standing a ways away from me.
The snake was now green, with a light green, pale belly and a pine-green back. It had "spots" along its back, more like chunky crescent shapes. These spots changed color, bright colors, changing like color stripes in the title screens of old arcade games.
The snake flew down and bit my left arm, on the inner side, at the elbow, sucking the blood from my vein. It may also have wrapped itself loosely around me. I stood there without being too worried, although I wondered why a snake was sucking my blood. Wasn't it supposed to be injecting a poison into me?
I now started worrying a little, thinking that once the snake had received all the blood it wanted from me it would stop being nice to me. It would turn on me, then, and inject me with its poison.
But now the women came back to me. They noticed the snake around me and made a remark about how that was inappropriate. Somehow the snake was removed. I saw, down on the ground, a couple splashes and splatters of blood which, for some reason, I couldn't quite believe was my own.
Dream #1
I may have been in an office with a man about my age or a little bit younger. The man was thin, with longish, frizzy hair, possibly some stubble, and deep, brown eyes. Hey may have been wearing a t-shirt and jeans. He sat at a desk, leaning far back in a chair that had a flexible, reclining back. I may also have been looking at my BlackBerry, possibly at the Financial Times website.
The man laughed casually about me about my old co-worker TB because TB had a subscription to the Financial Times. But even though I laughed and thought it was one of TB's quirky-classy things, I also thought it was probably a good idea to have a subscription to the Financial Times myself. And it was a pretty good deal, I told myself: only twenty dollars a month!
I walked (out from under an open-air, sheltered, makeshift "office," like a field lab?) through a park-like area, possibly down a slightly long slope in coldish, blue shade. I was still looking at my BlackBerry, possibly at an advertisement showing that a subscription to the Financial times was only twenty dollars a month.
I then came under the shelter of a makeshift office, basically a complex of tarp-like roofs supported by branches and limbs. There may have been desks and computers in this "office," but there was also a lot of cluttered, random stuff.
I looked at a news alert email on my BlackBerry. It said something like, "Great Britain and Spain Decide to Unite in Business." For some reason this didn't seem very profitable to me. I thought of investments I needed to get out of before all this stuff happened. I was reluctant to get out of the investments. I had hoped for so much from them.
I was out of the shelter again and walking down a long hill in the sunlight. TB and some other of my old co-workers (DE and CJ?) were talking casually and laughing with each other about the Great Britain/Spain news. They were down at the bottom of the hill, but I could hear them as if they were right next to me.
But soon I was near my friends (though I couldn't actually see them anymore). They, seeing me, told me their problem. One company they (we?) did research on was British or Spanish but made a lot of its sales in other nations. My friends were trying to figure how to model and forecast sales and operating profits from these nations in both British and Spanish (?) currency.
To my friends this was an unsolvable problem, or one that required too much work. They wanted me to confirm that for them (???). TB, whose face I could now see, in closeup, with a tight sky behind him, joked, "Say we have the Chinese currency, the Yemibi or Yemimi or whatever you call it. How can we put that into British and Spanish currency? I don't think there's a practical way to do it."
We now walked toward my left and into an office which first was just a couple of desks and computers outside and then actually was like offices indoors. TB sat in one desk and DE sat in another desk at the opposite end of the room, slightly behind me, so I couldn't quite see him, and almost like he was in another room altogether.
TB sat back in the chair relaxedly, pushing the flexible seat-back backward and either stretching his arms out or holding them behind his head. I could see now that TB and DE had been looking to me for an answer, and possibly also to work to put something together for them, but that they had been afraid to ask me.
I now tried, as casually as possibly, to explain how I would translate the currencies by using the U.S. dollar as a common point. I tried to sound, as I explained, like I was happy to help. (During this explanation I woke from the dream. But I continued to try and work this problem out.)
Dream #2
I stood out in a field, possibly something like a farm field, with two women. The sky was yellow, like in a van Gogh painting. We stood on a path or a road of deep brown soil. On our right and left the land mounded up, slightly obscuring what lay on either side.
One woman (a park worker, DR, from volunteer projects I'd done) pointed things out for us, making it somewhat clear that this place was like a farm. She now pointed out, on the left field, a snake. Somehow I could see over the mound, getting a pretty clear view of the left field, which was bare, brown (and furrowed?) soil with one smallish tree (possibly with red fruit hanging from it) standing in the distance.
A red and black striped snake, like a coral snake or a king snake was moving away from under the tree, not slithering, necessarily, but inching along, like a caterpillar might be seen to do, by scrunching up its body and then pushing back outward. But the snake made two scrunches in its body. The snake also looked somewhat plastic or polished, not quite scaly or real.
DR and the other woman (my mother?) began talking about other things about the field, when I suddenly noticed the snake stretch itself upward diagonally, so that its body was taut and its head stood high in the air.
The snake repeated the process, this time becoming even larger and leaping even farther, coming closer to us. The women said, "Oh, that's silly. Snakes can't fly. The snake isn't flying."
The women turned away from the left field to divert our attention as I saw the snake leap again. Now I saw the snake fly over the right field, hovering in the air, in a somewhat random coil, almost approaching a figure-eight shape. The women had turned their attention back to the left field, standing a ways away from me.
The snake was now green, with a light green, pale belly and a pine-green back. It had "spots" along its back, more like chunky crescent shapes. These spots changed color, bright colors, changing like color stripes in the title screens of old arcade games.
The snake flew down and bit my left arm, on the inner side, at the elbow, sucking the blood from my vein. It may also have wrapped itself loosely around me. I stood there without being too worried, although I wondered why a snake was sucking my blood. Wasn't it supposed to be injecting a poison into me?
I now started worrying a little, thinking that once the snake had received all the blood it wanted from me it would stop being nice to me. It would turn on me, then, and inject me with its poison.
But now the women came back to me. They noticed the snake around me and made a remark about how that was inappropriate. Somehow the snake was removed. I saw, down on the ground, a couple splashes and splatters of blood which, for some reason, I couldn't quite believe was my own.
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