Tuesday, October 10, 2017

Strange violence

Last night, I dreamed of a traffic jam.  The traffic jam was near some open sports fields; there were separate fields for football, soccer, and baseball, and in the middle of all of the specific sports fields was a large field that was a wide open space set up like a park (trees, paths, benches, nice scenery -- you get the idea).  Traffic was crawling, and tempers were getting heated, because in the traffic were guys who were supposed to be on those fields because they needed to be practicing with their respective teams.  One of the guys was a big burly guy who had his football gear on and he was really getting impatient.  He was laying on his horn and flashing his lights, which wasn't doing anything except upsetting the guy in front of him, who was a soccer player.  The football player attempted to pass the soccer player, but he was met with oncoming traffic and couldn't do so.  The soccer player rolled down his window and began shouting at the football player, shaking his fist and insulting him.  Tempers kept rising until both men were out of their vehicles, screaming at each other in the middle of the street.  One made the first move and a fight ensued.  This carried on across the lanes of traffic until they were fighting in the open field.

A bystander rushed out to try to separate the two of them, pleading with the two of them to stop fighting, make peace and get back in their cars.  The two men grabbed him and beat him until he was unconscious, and then kicked him while he was defenseless on the ground. While they were doing so, their religious affiliation became apparent, as they were calling on Allah for strength in their anger. Their tempers satiated, they both got back into their cars and drove off; the traffic has lightened up a little so that they could park their cars in the parking lot for the fields and they went to their respective practice fields.

A little while later, the man who had suffered the violence came to.  He was wobbly and barely able to sit up.  He tried a couple of times, but had been so violently assaulted that he either couldn't control his body due to the pain, possibly due to a concussion.  As he lay on the ground, trying to slowly put himself to rights, the soccer player happened to look over.  A cold look of malice ran over the soccer player's face, and he ran over to the hapless man and began bashing him on the head.  After about ten crashing blows, the soccer player ran back to his field; again, the poor man lay unconscious and what now appeared to be close to dead.

Newspapers flashed across my vision.  The innocent victim was a miracle survivor, but only just barely.  He had suffered concussions and broken bones, even a broken neck.  He was paralyzed from the neck down, and couldn't remember most of his life.  However, he remembered his name and things from his childhood.  He had been a faithful Muslim in his youth and had memorized the Qur'an.  The only thing he could do now was smile innocently as he had when he was a child and recite passages.

+ + +

It should be noted by anyone who does not know me that I am a Catholic, not a Muslim, and that this was just a dream, not a commentary on Islam.

Monday, October 09, 2017

Play whom?

Last night, I dreamed that I was performing in A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.  I was performing in a theater that I had been in another dream.  I had been cast as Bob Cratchit and was waiting on rehearsals and the script.

I don't recall the details of my previous dream in this theater, except that it was a Broadway show that I had never heard of, but I had a very minor role.  As such, I wasn't given a script or time to rehearse.  I was supposed to simply appear at the performances, ready to go.  If you're confused by how I could be ready without a script, join the club.

History tends to repeat itself.  Again, I hadn't been given a script or a rehearsal schedule.  I was called on the first day of the performance, asking where I was.  I came directly over to the theater and got into my costume.  Before my first scene, I attempted to find a copy of the script so that I could get an idea about what I needed to do, who the other characters were -- anything.  However, there were no scripts to be had.  The other actors were either guarding theirs or there really were no scripts for anyone.

I had maybe 10 minutes during which time I looked through the men's dressing room, spoke to a couple technical hands, and found one of the directors, and none of them seemed remotely concerned with the fact that I had never gotten anything I needed to perform.  They were only concerned with the fact that I was going to be late to the stage if I focused too much on trying to find a script.  I kept looking for as long as I could, and I was finally grabbed by one of the backstage hands, taken to stage right and told that I was on in 3-2-1, and shoved out onto the stage.

I fumbled around for a few seconds.  It was the scene at Old Fezziwig's house, when Scrooge was a young man.  (Avid Dickens fans will note that Bob Cratchit is not in that scene and that I would have missed a few significant scenes that Bob Cratchit is in.)  I joined a few other people at a table, and the focus of the stage became our table, as the other actors on it became noticeably louder and carried on a conversation.  I fumbled around with Dickens-style sentences and then made a comment about how I had had too much to drink and needed to go home to sleep it off, but that I wished them a very merry Christmas, full of joy!  I stumbled off stage and resumed my hunt for a script.

I woke up very shortly thereafter in a cold sweat.

Monday, October 24, 2016

Mouse dream

I forget the context of this dream, but here's the part that I remember from last night. I was in a room with furniture in it, and I was standing next to a center island or a large box or some sort of console when I saw this dark thing in my peripheral vision. When I turned and looked, it was gone. I focused again on the big boxy thing and in a couple of minutes, that same black little spot appeared. I turned my head slowly to take a look at it and it was a little mouse. It saw that I was looking at it, and stopped sniffing around. I turned to face it; it turned to face me. I took a step toward it and it didn't move. I continued advancing towards it, and it stood up on its hind legs. I slowly extended my hand down to it, palm up, and it did not run. Instead, it grabbed my fingers with its tiny forepaws and began sniffing around.

The dream gets a little fuzzy around here (no pun intended), but I seem to remember the mouse hopping up into my hand and either speaking to me there, or scurrying up my arm to my shoulder and talking there. I don't remember what was said.

Monday, June 27, 2016


I've been having a lot of dreams about technology recently, but none have really stuck in my mind. I just think it's notable that I've been dealing with tech problems in the past couple of weeks in all of my dreams. A few nights ago, I dreamed that I was working on a computer, and earlier in the day I had been. A couple nights before that, I dream that I had dropped my iPhone 6s, and in spite of the case and the screen protection, the screen that still cracked. In another dream, I was using my tablet for some troubleshooting. Instill another, every wireless signal that I had set up was wide open and users were getting plagued by viruses. Considering my line of work, none of these are pleasant dreams. In none of them did I resolve any problems; I simply came across a series of difficult problems and was unable to resolve them before I woke up.

Monday, May 23, 2016

Vanity of the hair

I don't remember a whole lot about this dream, but I was in a place with lots of mirrors. I was there with somebody else but I forget who it was. We were talking about nothing terribly important, because I was glancing around at all the mirrors: there were small ones, ornate ones, tall floor ones, and even a couple of the ceiling. (Whoever owned this place seemed to be quite vain.)

As I was glancing around, I happened to catch my reflection in one mirror which picked up another mirror behind me. There, on the crown of my head, was a massively large bald spot, the size of the palm of my hand. I looked at it, thinking to myself, "Christine would not let me get around looking that badly," and so figured that I had simply lost a significant clump of hair. This must've happened fairly recently, because I don't remember it looking like this in the past. I started looking around the room get a discrete sort of manner, not really expecting to find anything, but simultaneously hoping I would. As I scanned the room, my eyes caught another mirror and this one was passing along the reflection from one of the mirrors on the ceiling. I had another patch of baldness the same size sitting just off-center of the middle of my head. I decided that night I was going to cut my hair.

When I woke up this morning, the dream had felt so real that I had to check my head.

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Eaten by sharks

I have this strange recurring dream where I am eaten by sharks.  It used to be the case that I was swimming in murky waters and I would encounter a shark around the size of a tiger shark.  I would defeat it with my Bowie Knife, and it swam away, leaving a trail of blood.  As it swam away, the water would clear, and 25 feet away, looking right at me was a Mako shark that would make Jaws look like a porpoise.  It would swim fairly leisurely up to me, open its mouth and down I would go.  I wouldn't wake up quickly either, so my soul would leave my body, and I would be able to watch the shark finish eating me, and there would not be any pieces of me left in the water, but there would be some blood.

This was mostly inspired by a fear of sharks put there by Jaws and Deep Blue Sea, I'm sure.  If this wasn't the sole source, it was at least a contributor.

Now, more often than not, I am fed to a pair of large sharks, usually Makos or Great Whites, but there have been Hammerheads and Bulls as well.  In tonight's version of the dream, it was Great Whites.  I was thrown into the water (I have no idea from where or by whom, therefore it is just as likely that I fell in accidentally from an unknown place) and set upon in short order by one of them.  I fought with my first assailant with my fists, knowing that I was only prolonging the inevitable, when I was grabbed by the other one.  With that part of my body immobilized, the other one clamped onto the opposite limb.  Short work was made; first I was crippled and, very soon after, torn apart.

The funny thing is, my adrenaline gets going, but I am not afraid when faced with this inevitable.  The sharks are going to win, but I never let them take me down without a fight.  My normal mind panics at the sight of real blood, and I will get light-headed; from there, the room may spin and I will often need to sit down.  In these recent dreams, the ocean gets filled with blood and parts of me are strewn about in the best YouTube-quality shark-feeding-frenzy way.  However, when I wake up, I am not light-headed or terrified, just charged with self-defense adrenaline.

Dreams are funny, but not always laughable...

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Domingo in concert

I was going with my Dad to an outdoor concert hall to see Placido Domingo in concert. We stopped in a small town for a quick bite to eat at a small sandwich shop; just to describe how small it was, the sandwich shop's outdoor seating area was directly next to the parking lot, and there were no railings to divide the people from the cars. When we parked, the nose of his truck blocked a middle-aged couple from getting out of their bench seat on our side. The other side was right up against the wall. They had to crawl over the seats to get out. No one was upset, though; this was normal.

We got a sandwich, found some seating and talked about what we hoped to hear at the concert. Dad wanted a lot of opera, and I wanted a mix of things, particularly his Mariachi music.

We left the sandwich shop, and continued on our way to the concert. At the auditorium, I ran into a few people I knew, including Michael C, but having to go through the line to get the tickets, I was unable to say anything to any of them at first. Strangely enough, in the ticket line itself, there was another deli. (No, it's not Lent.)

After hearing the tickets, I found that Dad and I were sitting completely different sections of the auditorium. This was kind of sad, but it was what it was. We agreed to meet after the concert, and, after pointing out to each other where we were sitting, we parted ways.

Concert already started: Placido Domingo was singing a pop song while Santana wailed on his guitar. I liked it, but entire section of the audience left after that song was over. Santana then left the stage, and another pop singer came on the stage, although I don't recall who it was.

At this point, Michael C walked up to me and asked if I was enjoying the concert. I told him yes, but that I was hoping it would get better. He didn't have high hopes for this, but he agreed that he hoped it would get better.

Shortly after this, Domingo began an opera set, but they were poorly chosen selections. There were no crowdpleasers, only arias from little known operas, and it was all some of the most atonal music I have ever heard.

I looked around for Dad, to see if he was enjoying himself or not, and I couldn't find him. I looked around for my friends to see if any of them were still around, and I only saw the back of Michael C's head as he was leaving. Looking around at the auditorium, I saw that fully half of the seats were empty now.

Even though I wasn't enjoying what I was hearing, I could not bring myself to leave. After all, Domingo is easily one of my favorite singers. He has so much good repertoire that I was still hoping that what I was hearing would end. Within a few minutes, I was one of the few people left in the auditorium. I woke up before I found out if I was going to be the last one.

Sunday, March 09, 2014

Weddings and such

 I was driving along the Prince William Parkway to get to church to go to Mass. Along the way, I passed two police officers commuting to work in a Honda a Accord.  They looked like political caricatures; their only movements were the drivers hands in the wheel and the passengers hands on his smartphone.

When I arrived at Mass, Paul E, Sylvia S, and I went to Mass at a nice looking church; it was a church I'd never seen before, although it had a few elements of some of my favorite churches, as well as my childhood parish, St. Philip the Apostle in Dallas, TX.  Walking in, I didn't realize that it was the feast of the Annunciation, but Sylvia pointed that out to me.

The deacon read the readings in Latin, and the Gospel was in English.  The Gospel began with, "At that time, Jesus said to His disciples," and we all knew it was the wrong Gospel.  So did the priest, fortunately; either that, or he was aided by the fact that half of the congregation did not stand, while the other half that was standing had their eyebrows raised high.  (It was at this point that I noticed Mike and Carissa E, and Alex and Ashley S in attendance as well.  They were seated.  I was standing with Sylvia and Paul.)  The priest reread the correct readings, and when he announced the Gospel, everyone stood, because it was the right one.

The rest of Mass continued as normal, and sometime between the Agnus Dei and Communion, Sylvia had left the pew and had put on a wedding dress, as had Ashley S.  The suit that Alex was wearing turned out to be his morning dress.  Sylvia was getting married and Alex and Ashley were renewing their vows.  When the girls saw each other in their wedding dresses, high fives went around, and they came back from Communion to their pews positively giddy.  I think I might have even seen them hop down the aisle.

So, after Mass, Sylvia told me that even though her rehearsal was that day, the guy she was marrying was from Sweden, and she wouldn't be getting married in the States.  However, she wanted Christine and me to be there.  I gave the best promise I could, which felt like a weak promise, but I didn't know when the wedding was.  Nor did I ever find out; I woke up very soon after this point, as Sylvia was asking Ashley to be her fill-in matron-of-honor and Paul to be the fill-in groom for the rehearsal.  It was when the priest came out of the sacristy and asked if she was ready for the rehearsal that I popped awake.

Choir rehearsal

Joe M and Paul E were staying at the same bachelor house, to which I went for rehearsal for something.  Upon arriving there, I parked in front of a median with a large tree that had been chopped down and was piled there.  It was pouring buckets, so I stuck around until nearly midnight when the rain slackened.  I ran outside to my car to find that it wasn't there.  I walked up and down the street , wondering if it had been towed or stolen only to find that I couldn't find it...

...ready for this?...

I couldn't find it because I was driving it.

I woke up, and resisted the urge to go check on my car.

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Slapfish - bathroom break!!!

I don't know how this started, but I was working for a grocery store, and another clerk and I were having a contest in bagging customers' items. We had both been doing as much fancy bagging as we could, when all of a sudden, he pulled out a paper bag, grabbed a large fish and threw it in. With a massive splash, water came gushing out of this paper bag... ...and I woke up, really needing a bathroom break.

Friday, June 17, 2011


I had a very strange yet realistic dream about work last night. I was doing my typical computer support, except that we had a new support system in place.

Of course, now that I'm sitting down to type it up, I can't remember what it was. I only remember being really impressed by it.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Touring in Poland

America was at war.  The troops were deployed, and patriotism ran true in every American's blood.  The SCL received a call to sing a concert in Poland for the troops.  It wasn't a very busy spot, but it was a deployment central.  We were working on a program, when something came up with my work schedule and I couldn't attend.  I was so disappointed that I woke up.

Monday, May 03, 2010

Singing in the Colosseum

I was singing with the Palestrina Choir from Christendom under the direction of Dr. P, and it consisted of everyone who had ever sung with that choir (so it was bigger than it ever was in real life). We received an invitation to sing at the Roman Colosseum with another choir, I think the Vatican Choir. Anyway, so for some reason, when we arrived at Rome, the director of the Vatican choir took one look at me and said, "I didn't want EVERYone."

On a side note, having never been to the real Colosseum, my mind associated the exterior with the stage. Each person had their own individual window, and they were all stacked on top of each other, so there were no rows of people standing behind each other.

Anyway, everyone else took their places in the Colosseum-windows including Dr. P, who sang in my place when he wasn't directing. Out of a massive choir, I could easily see Brittany and Beth, as they had ground and second row positions, and when I looked around, everyone else had blended into the structure well. When they began singing, the sound was an absolutely glorious one, but one dominated by the Palestrina Chorale. While the director was busy patting himself on the back for such a fantastic idea of blending his choir with Dr. Poterack's, all the while suggesting to his own choir that they paled in comparison to Christendom's.

So, after listening to the whole practice, I had to evacuate, because it was a sold-out house, to standing-room only, and even that was filled to overflowing. The choir was supposed to wait in their positions for the audience to come in (which they did in droves).

Since there was nothing for me to do except either listen to the concert from outside or go exploring, I did the latter, since I had heard the practice. Unfortunately for both of us, I don't remember this part of the dream.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Christine's Ring

Christine's engagement ring was back in my possession for some oddball reason. She had taken it off and given it to me to keep for a while. I was inspecting it closely, and noticed that there was some glue on the side of the ring, covering one of the diamonds.

The ring was different than the one that I have actually given her, but in this dream reality it was the one I had given her. It had no rubies on the sides, only diamonds, and only 12 total (plus the center stone). It ended up being much more blocky than the one she really has.

Anyway, so I noticed that there was glue or some sort of other hard substance covering one of the diamonds. I scraped it off, and when it came right off in my hand, I disregarded it and flicked it onto the ground. I checked out the ring, and thought something didn't look quite right. Turns out that there was a hole where the glue had been. I quickly searched the ground and found it. The diamond had fallen out when I cleaned the ring.

At this point I was surprised that the diamond had fallen out. As I tilted the ring, another diamond looked loose. When I moved the ring again, the same diamond dropped out of the ring. And then the center stone started rotating, as though it was about to fall out as well. I took it to the jeweler to fix.

Here's where the dream starts to get a little whacky. As if it wasn't already.

For some reason, I was in a tuxedo with tails. Christine was with me, and she was in an evening gown. When we went into the jeweler, I tossed my jacket onto a counter where a valet removed it, and then found my salesman. I showed him what happened, and he took the ring and the loose diamonds to the jeweler in the back. He said that it would probably take 1-2 hours to fix and reset, and they would throw in a cleaning for free.

Christine and I went to a dance class while waiting for the ring to be fixed. Oddly enough, in order to get there, we had to go downstairs to the basement of the jeweler, in what felt like a dungeon. The dance instructor knew Christine (of course), and knew me through her, and stated that she was really worried about me dancing in boots.

When we went through the dungeon, we entered a stadium-seating arena, which is where our class was being held. We were on stage. I woke up before we started dancing...

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Out of water

There had been some sort of natural disaster and that Christine's house was running out of water. There was a pipe leading from the well to her landlord's house, her house, and the house across the street which had ruptured, and all the water was leaking out. I remember that one of the men working on it was called AJ, and that he was freaking out, because he thought the world was coming to an end.

Kateri S. showed up; she had been invited to a party across the street, and no one had noticed that the water was running out.

I saw another hole in a rubber tube from which the water was running, and when I tried to stop it, the tube broke and kept leaking. No one else around me had any other ideas, so they all just shrugged their shoulders...