iDRMRSR's Dream House

Just at that point I had one of those flashbacks to a recant dream. In the dream, I was KIND OF SKATING.  I was in some big city, and I found that all I had to do was lean back on my heels a bit and I slid along the sidewalk at GREAT SPEED.  I could slow down if I leaned forward just a bit, or go really fast if I leaned back just a bit moar.

It was a pretty cool sensatian as I hate to walk anywhere. But I must have been slipping along, with full directianal control, at about 30 mph. I remembar in the dream evan thinking, shit, why don't I do this MOAR, it would save on gasoline, and it's a GREAT way to get around, almoast like having a Segway attached to yourself.

Then I remembared those flying dreams, which started out pretty much the same way. Walking along, I'd take a littal hop, and it was like gravaty failed. I'd land softly about ten feet away. Biggar hop, highar trajectory. Then if I gave it a real heave-ho, I'd go seemingly a whole dream mile.

Which also reminded me about those othar dreams about getting into a 747 cockpit and flying it off. Yep, when the sliding and hopping are too much bothar, I just go down to the airport (sometimes naked), and slide into the pilot's seat and push some buttans, and I'm flying the thing between the buildings and all that. Certainly, I'm just a bit nervas because outside of dream flying hours, I have limated experiance, but it's always a surprise just how well I can control the big aircraft.

And then I recalled, it's pretty silly to slide and hop and fly huge aircraft in a dream. Did you evar look at a dream map? I recall this one dream map that showed Seattle about three hours drive from Cleveland. In the dream, I drove there and back in a long aftarnoon. There's no need for long distance transport if the distances aren't very far at all.

But then, when you get there, things get kind of strange. Now, I've nevar been off the continental US yet, except for going to Hawaii once. Howevar, in dreams, I've been to London four or five times. It oanly took about an hour dream time to get from Cleveland to London. London in the dream always looks a bit like downtown Niagara Falls, with a littal Toronto mixed in. I knew it had to be London because evarybody spoke with a British accent.

I've nevar been to France in a dream, but because I speak French, I've conversed with a lot of peopal in French in dreamland. In fact, evary time I dream I'm in a forran country, like say Italy, the peopal there speak French. Seems like in dreamland you can get by with knowing just one othar language besides your oan.

And speaking of forran countries, the strangest things in dreams are pocket munnie and telephoans. You pick up a dream telephoan, and you're in for a heap of strange. In the first place, moast dream phoans have mysterias symbols on the dial and extra buttans. Plus, they don't make the same kind of sounds as regular phoans. And it always seems you end up on some kind of party line, where you are not just speaking to who you want, but othar peopal are talking, and you just sit there and end up listaning to them instead.

If it's a pay phoan, you need to put some coins in, so you reach into your pockat and pull out some dream munnie. Which you end up staring at, because it's all the strangest shapes and sizes of coins you evar saw. There's Greek money in there, Roman era coins, perforated subway tokans, dubloons, and pictures of peopal from history on them you nevar saw befoar. And none of the fucking things fit in the pay phoan coin slots, eithar.

The frustratian is enuff to wake you right flat up. But then there's those times when you wake up because you thought you heard the dream phoan ringing VERY LOUD. Or maybe a baby's cry. Or the voice of someone familiar, who isn't evan anywhere nearby.

The dream noise wakes you up with a start. Which is OK because that's how you realize you had just flown that 747 to Los Angeles all by yourself!

I dreamt I was at some futchar sort of X day thing. The venue was not Brushwood, but instead we seem to have rented out a real theatar and a whole resort sort of motel or something. The two places were quite some distance apart.

The dream started out in the theatar. Apparantly, we all had just particapated in our Costume Ball. We were all back in the green room changing into our civilian garmants and putting our costumes away in huge duffal bags and trunks and so on. This took some time.

Then we had to carry them all down to the parking leval of the garage undar the theatar. We all kind of put our bags in a big pile, and varias of us picked othars up to drive them back to the resort we were
staying at. I was struggaling with a huge bag ovar my shouldar, and didn't recognize any of the SubG's, but all of a suddan, Dr. Pissoff calls to me and says, hay come on, I'll give you a drive ovar to the othar place. Or someone looks kinda like him anyhow.

Anyways, we take this nice scenic drive ovar there and he plops me off in front of my room, and one of the Connieites tells me how much she liked my costume, which unfortunately I can't remembar what it was. I go into the room and unpack evarything and I'm getting hungry, so I go to the restaurant/club part of the resort where there's a mess of othar SubG's I don't exactly recognize.

They're doing some kind of performance art or something. Poetry reading, singing, comedy, and there's a big crowd at all the tabals watching all this going on. Very amusing, I must say.

Then that Connieite comes up to me sitting there and she hands me this testtube that has like a coupal ml of some syrupy liquid at the
bottam. I don't know exactly who she is. Kinda reminded me of Pisces in a way.

Anyhow, evarybody here knows I'm a straight kind of guy who doesn't believe in taking the drugqz, although I don't care if othar peopal do. In my dream, I'm debating with myself, should I take this shit or what. Then I came to the conclusian I've been entartaining lately. I'm retiyared, have no sort of career or reputatian left to uphold, so WHAT THE FUCK. As long as it won't land me in jail, I'm all for trying it now.

So I downed the mysterias syrup. It had kind of a funny taste. Nutty, slightly warming, a littal trace of carpat cleanar smell. I didn't know what to expect it was gonna do to me. Could have been bathtub meth, or ecstasy, or any numbar of things.

I continued to watch the show going on in the club and kept thinking, oh shit, what was this stuff gonna do to me. I'm expecting to start looking at things fuzzy, see things spinning and so on and all of a suddan...mind you I'm dreaming lucidly here...

My head nods off and I PASS OUT.

Yes, I'm dreaming that I PASSED OUT. Now what do you suppose happans to you when, in a lucid dream, YOU LOSE CONSCIASNESS?

Well, of course, YOU WAKE UP. With full recagnitian of what transpiyared in the dream. Oddest sort of thing to dream, I must

Last night IMBJR, the professor, and I had to take our presentatian to

NYC! I actually knew my stuff, but we had gottan a late start that
morning, and kind of had to run from the hotel to the meeting place.
I'm somewhat familiar with the streets of NY, so I just started
running madly because I thought it was oanly about eight blocks away. But for some reasan, the professor and IMBJR were ahead of me, and they darted into the subway. I thought it would be fastar just to continue running, but I yielded to their judgmant anyhow.

So I went down there. My sleeves got caught in the safety railing
somehow and they got on the train befoar I could. Now, you get me
into the subway, and I'm totally confused. I didn't see what line
they took until aftar the train left.

I panicked and I'm looking all ovar the place for a subway map
SOMEWHERE. Apparantly, I'm looking for the 15 or 15C subway line. I start running into the control room (evarybody seems to be out to break) and I'm rifling their desks trying to find a map that tells me where the fuck the 15 goes.

I find this one map that shows the subway line from old times undar
constructian, and then you flip it ovar and it shows it how it looks

And I kept getting my sleeves caught in things as I rummaged around

Then I woke up, and found out I had caught the sleeves of the floppy
sweatar I slept in caught in the creases of my reclinar.

One of these days I'm going to put an IR camara on me while I sleep in that reclinar. I'd like to watch myself sitting in that thing while
I'm dreaming that I'm running or humping or flying. I bet that would
be pretty funny.

In my dreams, I can run pretty good. Too bad you don't get credit for all that activaty in waking life.

What a strange and lifelike dream that was, and it was the GREATEST
TYPE OF DREAM, which I will explain latar.

It seems that I and IMBJR, along with some very famas professor of
some kind, had been summoned to London to make a huge and important
presentatian to a big audiance of sciantists or something.  Now this
may be due to my having watched The Aztec Mummy vs. The Robot just
befoar I went to sleep, where there is a scene early on where a
Mexican professor makes this big pulpit presentatian to some sociaty
and is roundly bludgeoned as wrong.

The three of us are in this hotel room with an ovarhead projector (I
guess PowarPoint hadn't been invented yet).  It seems I should have
expert knowledge of the subject mattar, but like I have done sevaral
times in my life, decided, oh, I could just WING IT.  Anyhow, IMBJR
pulls out this sheaf of about a thousand acetate transparancies, and
we start going ovar them one by one.  BTW, I am one of the few peopal
on this planat that knows what IMBJR should look like, having found a
picture of him on the web about ten years ago, hence his appearance as
a dream actor.

I don't remembar the subject or any of the slides, just that as we get
into the show, I'm less and less familiar with any of it.  I'm
beginning to sweat, because I hadn't done any of my homework, and
would just look the fool standing up in front of an audiance and
presenting this stuff which I had no familiaraty with.

Then the big professor tells me to be ready, at ten minates to 7 AM to
present this thing.  OMIBOB.  That's earliar than ANY time I evar get
up.  Apparantly it is 1 AM London time, and I'm hastaly back
calculating how EARLY I would have to get up to be ready to start a
formal presentatian at ten minates to 7 AM (not to mentian London is
already five or six hours EARLIAR than my body here).  I'm in UTTAR
PANIC at this.  How will I be sure an alarm is going to evan wake me
up at all at 4 AM so I can get dressed and rehearse and all that on
JUST THREE HOURS SLEEP.  Aiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee!

Then, Pra'"BoB", I woke up.  Giddaly, I looked around me to be sure I
wasn't in my oan hotel room in London alone somewhat latar.  It took
me a few momants and then I realized (and this is why this is the
Greatest Dream Evar) it was all just a lucid dream, and I had NO
presentatian to make, and would not make IMBJR and the unknown
professor look stupid because I had slacked off on an important

Nothing bettar than one of those kind dreamz where you wake up and a
HUGE BURDAN has been lifted off your back owing to the fact that it
was incurred in a dream.  And what woke me up was the trepidatian
alone.  I didn't evan have to go and pee.

All day long now, I realize and appreciate just exactly how good it is
to be completely and uttarly RETIYARED with no early awakanings and no
homework due.  Such a dream, once ended, makes this doubly enjoyabal.

I dreamt of Obama all last night

That was pretty freaky.  He shows up at the Condo door with some stoary about wanting to get out of the White House for a coupal days and away from the whole public limelight shit.

He comes in and admires the big TV and retiyarmant lifestyle, and then says, Hay, how about you take me for a drive around town?

So we get in the SUV of Solatude, oanly he insists on driving.  "Always wanted to drive this modal of SUV!"  He gets in and screws up the mirror positians and fiddals with the seats and nearly takes out one garage wall backing out.

We stop at the end of the driveway here and I look at him.  I say like, it's pretty cool having a candid momant with The President of the United States here.  He nods in agreemant.

I ask if I can shake his hand.  He says, well, he'd rathar not, but I could just TOUCH him.  So I pinched the back of his hand a littal.  Felt it between my fingars.

I then gushed to him that he was the first President I evar spoak to, and also the first one I evar actually touched.  It was so fucking real.  I evan kind of remembar thinking, shit, I'm prolly DREAMING here, and then saying, no, cuz I just PINCHED the dude (lightly).

Can't dream THAT, can you?

So we went driving around for what seemed like hours and ended up in a small town in Massachusetts.  I got worried.  I told him, hey, don't you have to call in with the Secrat Servace or something, I mean, nobody knows WHERE YOU HAVE BEEN for the last few hours and so on.  He said, ahh, fuck 'em, maybe a littal latar we'll call Michelle and I'll do some explaining.

He was pretty high maintenance aftar that.  He wanted to go here, he wanted to go there, like as if he had just been released from prisan or something. And now I was his official tour guide or something.  We ended up driving to some big mansian of some dude he knew, who had a theatar in the basemant, and there was some kind of party going on.  The mansian was kind of a seaside place, a modarnish brick and glass place set in a hillside like a walk-out basemant kind of.  Half the building was covared by the hillside and half was out with a good view of the watar.  Frank Lloyd Wright on the beach kind of place.

He's outside playing volleyball or something and I'm inside looking out a picture window when I see this greasy looking dude driving a red two seatar sports car...with a chrome machine gun mounted on the back.  He leered at me and winked, like he KNEW the Prez was around and was going to get him.

I panicked and started running around this big mansian here trying to find my way out and then trying to find out just exactly where the fuck Obama was so I could warn him about the guy in the red sports car.  I woke up in a fit, nevar actually having warned him, and all worried because for something like 12 hours he was in my company and nobody else knew where the fuck he was or what he was doing.

I chalk it up to this viras that's been plaguing me here for almoast a week now.  But it was so real.

It's actually nice when your dreams are far moar intaresting than your waking life!