Telogical, or a spy?

So I worked for Telogical Systems in my dream, but it wasn't the Telogical of real life. I worked in an office where I was always in a suit, always getting a rental car, and always having to put up with this grand survey...

So I was in a big populated city, in a hotel. I'd been here before, since people knew me. I rented an Acura NSX for the occasion, and it was one of those cars that you could fold up into a smaller container and carry around with you.

I've had dreams about this city, the folding "technology" (aka "cartoon physics"), and several other things that occurred in this dream. Last time I was here, I was working for Telogical, but my building ran out of power, so I had to scale the side of an unfinished skyscraper to get to the tenth story. From the tenth story up, the the building was finished, furnished, powered, and rented out. I got there early in the morning and worked until 8AM. At 8AM, I had to go out and get something, and when I came back, the regular tenants were in the office having their normal workday and my bike (which also featured this folding technology -- how do you think I got it up the side of the building?) had been confiscated. I went to security to pick it up, and they were going to charge me $400 to get it out. The bike itself cost less than that. As I was turning to leave, I saw a pure white 2002 Camaro police car all decked out with sirens, lights, etc. (more so than the picture in that link) come out of the center of the same building, all lit up. I froze in my tracks, just gazing at the beauty of it. That's where the last dream ended in this city. But that was last time -- back to this time.

So, I rented the Acura NSX and was driving around town, after finishing my last bit of work for the day, and preparing to go home for the day. I drove up to my hotel, folded the car up into it's [fairly large] briefcase, and went inside, car in one hand, work briefcase in the other. I found my room (for some reason, it took a while and it involved me searching for it and running from the ship's captain), and packed my things to go. As I was checking out, the car rental and hotel people wanted to give me a survey. But it wasn't a regular survey. It was something more like this, except that it wasn't about beans or George Wendt. The guy started really excitedly by telling me that I had virtually already won $1,000,000 and how would I like to claim it. All I had to do was get this free watch by signing up with magazine subscriptions for cheap. I said no. He told me again, in excited tones, how happy he was for me, because I was already virtually a winner! And when I said no again, he started crying, saying that he must be doing a terrible job in getting his point across that I had practically already won and I only had to do one tiny thing to seal the deal. I sighed exasperatedly, picked up my work briefcase and car, and ran. He followed me, telling me about these exciting opportunities. As I ran, I wished that there was an "unfold quickly" button on the car and that I hadn't gotten a stick -- it was a little slower for me to get going, thanks to the whole clutch thing. I managed to get some distance, so I stopped and unfolded the car and got in, but by this point, he had caught up with me, excited as ever, once again, using the crying method. I fired up the car and drove off (keep in mind that I was still inside the building). I easily left him behind now, but in my excitement of leaving him behind, I failed to notice that I had no more room to drive, and as fast as I was going, I was going to crash out of the hotel, and I was on the fourth tall story (these were about 20' ceilings). Well, I ejected at the last second, and when the car felt no more rider inside and no ground underneath it, it folded back into it's briefcase and tumbled into and then right back out of the pool on the 2nd story roof. I jumped out the window, using the rope in my work briefcase (what?!) in the same way Indiana Jones uses his whip.

So I made it to the second story roof to pick up the car, when I remembered that I had already turned it in, so I couldn't keep it. Using the same rope, I bailed off the roof and attempted to jump to the ground. But the building began curving in, and I lost my briefcase -- I saw it fly off and land in the front yard of a residence. I swung down to the first story, then to the ground and ran over to pick up my briefcase. Sam Jackson was the owner of the house and had picked up and gone through the briefcase. He waiting for me. He sauntered outside to hand me the briefcase. I opened it to see if anything was missing and noticed that he had been through it. I was about to ask him to explain why he had done this when I woke up.

Singing skills?

So I was out singing in a large concert hall with the guys (Francis, Paul, Michael, David, and Dr. P), but all of them were singing waaaaay louder than me. No matter how much I tried to blend, they were all the business of overpowering me while looking at me with looks of smug success on their faces. So I decided to go all operatic on them. (I can't actually sing operatically, and even if I could do that, I couldn't match Dr. P.) I began belting out the melody line of what it was that we were singing. The crowd went nuts as my voice went higher and higher and higher and everyone else got louder still. I then realized that I actually don't have this kind of power as high as I was going, nor this good of a voice. I sounded like Draper. I looked around, but I couldn't see him.

The camera panned out from my field of vision, and Draper was actually there, and he was actually singing, and was matching me without seeing me, note for note, beat for beat, and motion for motion. We were in perfect sync, except that when we passed the High G's, he kept going and my voice had to switch into falsetto.

When Draper walked out on stage, our sextet had turned into a septet. The crowds were on their feet, cheering. I wasn't sure if we were in America doing our thing or in Russia singing the national anthem.

Sold into Slavery, Part 2

So, Dad and I were getting on the way. Mom and Elizabeth had caught up with us, as had Christine. Our first stop was to get my hair cut. They dropped me off at a minimart in a tower building, and then drove off. I was in my suit. So I went inside to the barber shop. They had a long line, and there was a lady advertising her new stylist shop, called "Mama's". I asked her how much a trim was -- she said $10. So I opted to go over there. But I couldn't find it. I finally had to ask the guard and he took me to it. There were no signs, but there were customers. I got called to front of the line and Mama was going to cut my hair. (Mama was an 80-year old lady.) She started with the small-talk and then got lost in conversation. I got as far as removing my suit jacket and asking if she wanted me to also take off the tie. She had said something that caused me to laugh and put my hand on her shoulders, in a friendly, albeit flirtatious style, and she took this opportunity to grab my hand with both hands and hold on tight. She had taken the friendliness a little too seriously, because before you knew it, she was sitting in her chair, just holding my hand, with me getting more and more uncomfortable by the second. We never actually got around to getting my hair cut...

Sold Into Slavery

Dad and I were sold into slavery. The lady who sold us had us sleeping in a hotel in Front Royal during our last night of freedom, but we plotted escape. Dad's plan was to wake up at 4AM, pack all our stuff and run for it. It was worth a shot. So, at 4AM, Dad woke me up in his sleep and then I proceeded to wake him up. As he was getting our stuff ready, I took the car and checked our path of travel up about 10 miles. There was no one pursuing us. As I turned back to get Dad, I woke up.

Bollywood/Football party

So, in actuality, Draper is hosting a Bollywood party this evening. In my dream, the party ended up being a Bollywood/Football party. T-Shirts, along the lines of the East/West football "jerseys" were made for the men by the women present. Christine had made mine, and it had the Superman S-Shield on it, but it was in sparkly blue and silver, with the words "Superman" and "Supergirl" written elsewhere on the shirt (I forget where). It was also a 2XL, or maybe even a 3XL -- whatever the case was, when I held up, to quote Jerry Seinfeld, "I looked like I was wearing Superman's pajamas." Anyway, so I looked at Christine first with a look of, "Wow, that's big!" and "Wow, that's girly!", and she interpreted my looks correctly. She just smiled at me and said, "But it's pretty!"

I told her, "But that's not the colors of the logo! It's not sparkly!"

She gave me a sad look (I'm not sure if it was real or her playing), so I decided to put it on. I woke up just as I picked up the shirt with that particular determination.

Chess,shuffleboard style

Drifting off to sleep this evening, I got a quick mental picture of two men playing chess, but instead of moving the pieces regularly, they had to push them with long metal cues, similar to the wooden cues used in shuffleboard. Made for an interesting-looking game...

The Pretender Series

So, I've been watching the Pretender, an older television series that got cancelled after the fourth season. I would recommend this series highly to anyone looking for an incredible series.

Anyway, I had a dream where I was a Pretender, but I was in a world where every 1 out of 10 people were Pretenders. Miss Parker was still chasing Jarod, who was still doing all sorts of good while running from the Centre. However, now Miss Parker and Syndey had several Pretenders helping them in the capture of Jarod, who was still the greatest Pretender.

Unfortunately, I don't recall any other details. I will say that I was the closest of anyone to capturing Jarod, in that I saw him. But he knew I was after him, and, as usual with the series, he was several steps ahead of me.

Accused of Murder

"Knight's Dagger" From Swords

"Dracula Dagger" From Swords

I was in medieval days, dressed in the garb of a knight. It was in the evening, and I had been accused of murdering my best friend by my best friend's wife. She challenged me to a duel with daggers, and it was clear from the look on her face that there would be no talking about this. She drew her dagger, the one given to her by her husband (see "Knight's Dagger" above).  I was unarmed, so I was given one that looked like a cross between the two above.  She placed the point of her blade on my chest, looked me dead in the eye, and said something to the effect of, "I'll never forgive you."  She then withdrew the blade, and attempted to kill me, but I easily evaded it.  I looked around for support, for anyone to clear my name, but there was no one.  I had already told her that I was not guilty of his death, but evidence had arisen that he had died by my hand.  (The fact of the matter is that the dream had started with the challenge, and I had remembered my innocence and the framing as the dream was continuing.)  In my mind's eye, I had no choice -- I had to kill or be killed, because she wouldn't have it any other way, and she wouldn't listen.  I begged her to listen to me once more, and when she answered by another lunge, I moved just out of the reach of her blade, and then stabbed her in the heart.  Her face went white with shock, and she died very quickly.  I grabbed the nearest cloth, and as she fell, I caught her, and held the cloth over the wound.  When I looked around, I saw the man who had given me the blade -- I saw my enemy.  He was gloating in the fact that I had killed her, and that his guilt in her husband's death had become mine.