Dream Journal Entry 3

First of all I'm high. I'm driving somewhere down the shore toward some town for some reason in a new car I just bought. I'm not just high, I'm baked out of my mind. I am wearing a blanket for some reason and as I'm driving it starts to fall off of me a little bit and somehow get wrapped up in the pedals, making it hard to accelerate and brake. Because of this I miss my exit and decide I need to do something before the problem hets any worse.
aside: difficulty breaking while driving is a running theme throughout my dreams.

So I pull over on the yellow lined part of the exit to untangle the blanket from the pedals. I turn on my hazard lights and attempt to negotiate a surrender from the blanket. This takes a minute and when I come up there is a face in the passenger side window. It is a cop.
I didn't hear any lights or anything and I was stopped for 2 minutes at most. But there he was. The cop looks at me and says, "Hi. I ran your plates. This is your sixth ticket, so your license is going to be suspended. Also, I have to call your parents."
I discarded the bizarreness of the calling of the parents and focused on what the hell he was talking about. "What exactly did I do wrong officer?"
"Well I haven't decided yet. It'll probably be about $73, though. Why don't you step out of the car."
I look at him apprehensively.
"Step out of the car please sir."
OK, I figure, why the hell not.
So I step out of the car.
He says, "Follow me."

He walks out into traffic holding his badge up and I follow behind him. We are walking toward a hole in the wall restaurant. Cars are slamming on their brakes as we walk across the four lane highway (with off-ramps and exits) that this restaurant is somehow located on. Anyway, we finally get inside.

And it's awesome. It's some sort of magical mexican/french chicken place that has the most delicious smell I've ever experienced. Just as a reminder, I'm really high in this dream so this is like heaven. I'm pretty sure the cop could tell I was stoned because I already thought he was fucking with me, but I figured, what the hell I'm along for the ride. At least it will be a story. The cop goes in first, turns to me and says, "Get something good, I'll be right back."

At this point it occurs to me to lock the doors of my car with the beeper thing. I do. He notices I do and he gives me a look that I don't understand. I say, "New car. Just got it. I like it." He disappears into the kitchen of the restaurant without a word, leaving me standing there in line. I figure I should order.

The restaurant is setup with a glass display case full of food, a person working that display and the kitchen behind it. There are about 5 slightly-raised booths made of shitty material and a few stools at a counter. There is a soda fountain machine that carries Boylan Sodas (sidenote: I saw a boylan truck earlier in the day) as well as a case for various beverages, most of which I had never heard of. The menu is enormous. It stretches across the entire restaurant above the food display. One section is devoted to micro-brew beers specifically and has about 15 options. I look up and begin to try to comprehend the enormity of it when a little boy knocks into me.

"Oops."
"Hello," I say, to the kid.
"Mommy! I want that and that and that and that and that and that..." They boy continues and I watch him point at the various delicious looking meats. I look up and there is a young, pretty Mexican woman holding a baby.
"Sorry, they are hungry," she says.

We strike up a conversation about the restaurant and her, most of which I don't remember. In the middle of our conversation, the cop emerges from the kitchen now in full chef garb and walks purposefully through the restaurant, out the door, then onto the street and out of sight.
"Oh, that's [name]. He's a cop. Real tough," the woman says to me under her breath. (note: I don't remember the cop's name)
"Yeah, I know. He pulled me over. My car is right out there."
"Oh."

It's then her turn to order. I don't even pay attention to what she's ordering, I try to figure out what is going on. Again, I'm pretty sure he knows I'm high. I think that he must have gotten my license plate number because of what he said to me, but I don't remember giving him my ID at any time. I crane my neck around to look for my car out the large pane-glass front windows of the restaurant just as the cop walks back in, tucking his gun back into the waistband of his all black chef uniform.

"Hey. What are you doing. Order something. You must be hungry," the cop says in a strange, suggestive tone.
I go back to looking at the menu and before I know it a woman behind the counter shouts at me to order.
"Hi. Umm, I don't really know what I want. Something with chicken, and cheese, and spicy?"
"Oh okay. We got just the thing. I'm gonna melt some cheese and bacon on top of some chicken, give you some jalapeno fries, you will love it. It's the crackler special."
"Okay." It sounds awesome. She writes down my order.

I move down the counter to wait for my food and an order comes out bagged up and ready for takeout. It's placed right in front of me. Is it mine? I peer inside. It's some sort of shrimp magic that smells amazing. I realize it is not mine, it must be the mother's. I hand it to her. She smiles and ushers her children out the door. The sun is setting as she leaves. She looks beautiful as she leaves. I miss her immediately. I feel a loss that is difficult to describe as she walks out of view, still holding the baby, holding her food in one hand, and one child in the other (another adorable little girl holding the boy's hand). I wonder who she is, whether she was happy, whether I could make her happy. I want to run after her. I'm going to run after her. I need her to-

A loud sound snaps me out of it. My order is ready. It is two gigantic plates of food. I'm starving and it smells delicious. I grab the plates and turn around to look for a seat. I see a hand with a finger pointing towards the table the hand owner is sitting in. It is the cop. I bring my food to his table, scoot in and look up. He has a hooker on his lap. She is asian. She is wearing way too much makeup. She could be anywhere from 16-40 years old. Her nails are the size of rulers. She's wearing a bright pink tube top that is hanging on for dear life. She's moving side to side ever so slightly, maybe so that I don't notice. I notice. The cop definitely notices.

"She said to me, 'I'll never fuck a guy who's over 150.' Do you think you could get her to fuck you?" It wasn't until this question that I noticed how big the cop was. He was Lou Ferrigno big. He looked like he could tear this poor girl in half. Also he had somehow fast changed back into his cop uniform. This had to be some sort of joke. He knew I was high and he was just fucking with me. I figured I would play along.
"Well, I've been told I'm a very gentle lover." They both laughed heartily. I excused myself to go get a drink.

A guy behind the counter moves quickly to meet me at the soda fountain
"You know he's just fucking with you, right?" he says as he fills up a drink of his own.
"Yeah," I reply quietly. He didn't look at me and I didn't look at him. This made me nervous.

I get back in the booth with my drink.
"You eat pussy?" the cop asks, his voice now booming. I look up slowly and then look at the girl. She is playing with a lollipop in her mouth.
"I said YOU EAT PUSSY?"
"Yeah," I reply calmly and look back down at my food.
"Tell my girl how you do it."
"Well, obviously, it's all about the motion of the tongue. Whether or not it's moving fast or slow, what direction it's moving in, where you put it. These things are important," I say matter of factly.
The cop laughs again, this time much differently though. The asian hooker does not laugh. Her fingernails are drifting across the table towards my hand. Slowly. Almost impossibly slowly. Time is frozen as her grotesque, blue with silver stars 10-inch long fingernails move towards my now shaking right hand. It is face down on the table. She touches the back of my palm

and I wake up.

Dream Journal Entry 2

First of all I'm in Iraq.

Now this makes sense for a couple reasons. At one point a few years back I found a help wanted ad online for an independent contractor in Iraq that was looking for computer janitors in the green zone. I semi-ironically applied, then semi-ironically did a phone interview with a recruiter, then semi-ironically filled out all the background check paperwork, then semi-ironically went through a second series of interviews until I finally realized this might not be such a good idea. Also, my current job at the US Census probably triggered some of these past memories.

So I'm in a cafe in the green zone in a hotel room and the scene is right out of Apocalypse Now. There is some debauchery going on in one corner involving some soldiers and some females of indeterminate ethnicity and age wearing short skirts (well not so much wearing as the skirts just hanging on for dear life). I'm just sort of sitting in the corner drinking and smoking with a few people from work and my 3rd grade math teacher (naturally). We're not really shocked or outraged at the depravity going on just a few feet away, we just observe them as if they are animals in a zoo. Suddenly a red phone I had not previously noticed rings.

I overhear a conversation going on between my bosses that I feel I am not supposed to be listening to. They're talking about who to send on the inspection today of the weapon stocks of the rebels. I interpret this to mean that I am not quite working for any government or contracted agency, but for a peacekeeping mission like the UN or something. Since I was recently promoted (both in the dream world and real life), they decide on me. I bust into the conversation and say that this is really not part of my job and I am woefully unprepared for this task. At this point their words turn into babbling and complete nonsense, mixed in with yelping and drooling. I take this to mean that my protestation is not going to be effective. I look down and realize that I am wearing some sort of steampunk IT hazard uniform.

I set aside my disgust for this god damn ridiculous uniform and put on a yellow flashing helmet that identifies me as a civilian. I run out to the caravan that is making it's way into the inspection zone. It's already in motion for some reason so I have to start running and reach out to grab an extended arm from the civilian armored car.

I don't remember anything about the ride there but as soon as I arrive at the weapons warehouse I am pushed out the door and the armored car speeds away. I am seized up by the rebels and ushered into their warehouse of weapons. They quickly begin holding up various things that make no sense at all. The first thing I see are floppy disks with the names of major cities on them.

At first I believe this is targeting data or something of the sort that may pose a major problem. I go to write this down and find out that I have no writing instrument nor paper or other material to write on at all. In my panic to record this, I look closer and see that the disks are not targeting data but encyclopedia articles on the various cities and subjects like math and biology.

The rebel leader, the only one that speaks english, then grabs me and shows me the actual weapons. They are down to the last few rockets and the only other things they have are some sort of godforsaken halberd combined with a pitchfork with a small rocket attached to it. I ask if they are going to try and launch this and they all start yelling like god damn lunatics. At this point they are really riled up, morphing into some sort of furious mob, lunging at me playfully/insanely with their weapons - feigning attacks and scaring the shit out of me. The only guy that could speak english is now some sort of three headed demon beast holding up weapons that have been welded together and fashioned out of ridiculous ingredients like fans and car parts.

I run like hell out of there and the caravan is once again close but moving away from me, I reach up and grab the hand

and I wake up.

Dream Journal Entry 1 or Trip Report: Going to Sleep Last Night or "sweet I'm gonna eat this big ass brownie"

Contents of dream in stream of consciousness writing:

first of all I'm dead
but they have found a way to revive me
it involves a boat somehow
a big boat, like a deluxe crusing boat with a cabin you can go in underneath.

But we were on the very front of the boat, almost too far so that I felt like I was going to fall out.
We started moving forward and we reached out towards the water to pull someone out but then there was a flash of light as we grabbed someone out of the water and we were moved to a different place and possibly different time.
an essential part of being revived wad reliving all of my childhood in order somehow
but it would only be certain things and they would all happen in the span of a few days from my perspective. I knew I would be playing sports on the first day and then stuff having to do with music on the second day
also I think i died because I ate old chinese food
it was left out for a couple days and I came back and I ate it
there was some shrimp that I said whatever I'm sure it's fine
a real shrimp situation
so after I was dead somehow my family was talking to me
they were telling me how they were going to revive me

this was all a part of this other insanely crazy thing
where liam neeson

was playing the piano and I was an omniscient observer to this
when he would play the piano the house he was in would dance and light up like magic
on the day liam and his wife were going to show their daughter the secret of the magic
Liam rigged the house to light on fire when he played a certain chord
so he showed the daughter the magic, but somehow it was haunting him so he decided he would show her
but not allow her to be able to harness it, so he played the chord and the entire house went up in flames
but the wife somehow had figured this out so she held them all in the house to suffer the consequences (AKA die)

so I remember seeing that at some point, possibly early on in the dream, definitely before death by chinese food
then when I was actually in the dream that house was fine and the family with Liam neeson was fine
that might have just been a preview for the real dream coming up???


anyway, so I died and they're telling me how they will bring me back
somehow I was reading some magazine that was explaining future tech (like a popular mechanics type magazine)
this detailed a space resort for Disney World that was in the planning stages
it sort of looked like the floating hotel from The Fifth Element where the majority of the action takes place (like the diva concert)

also a amphitheatre that connected with your soul or some crazy shit and played concerts in 4-D, manipulating time and space

so I was dead but I was transported back to myself when I was 12 years old
I was in a gym, wearing gym shorts and a t-shirt, getting ready to play basketball
when I looked in the mirror though, I looked like Danny McBride. It was a lot like quantum leap
so these two guys were talking to me and telling me what I had to do, which was relive childhood experiences so there were these four girls bouncing basketballs to lines of guys lined up there were four lines of guys and they were grouped sort of by age
pre-teens in one line, adolescents, 25-50 year olds, and old as fuck dudes
the girls bouncing the balls were all really young though
of course the gym we were in was impossibly large, like a gym they could build a spaceship in but that's neither here nor there
so I looked out and saw this but I was of course confused as to which line I should choose, the middle aged line or the preteen line
but before I could choose someone I work with at the Census runs up to me from an impossibly large staircase entrance to the gym and asked me "Is it possible that you signed up for the bass drum in middle school?"
and I flashed back (in the dream) to an assembly in elementary school where they demonstrated all the instruments
and I actually was somehow intoxicated by the sound of the clarinet so i decided on the spot to play that

so I told the guy from work it was highly unlikely but that possibly I played it for a few days in middle school
then as he was running up to the impossibly large staircase (I mean large not that the indivudual steps were large, but that there were thousands of people on it and it was hundreds of stories up and down)
but before he was out of earshot I called to him, "WAIT! I played the bass clarinet in middle school for a year or two!" He nodded and ran off again.

I think it's important to note here that I thought that if I messed anything up I would somehow not be able to be revived, so everything had an extra little bit of intensity.

So I turned my attention back to the gym and I realized I was holding a big ass brownie in a ziplock bag. Since I was dead I was like, "sweet I'm gonna eat this big ass brownie."
This was before the actual lines of people were fully set up, they were still forming. So I run across the impossibly large gym and sit in the impossibly large locker room with impossibly large man-sized lockers and eat a little bit of the brownie. I was sort of hiding the brownie and eating it, I'm unsure whether it was out of selfishness for this brownie or out of the shame of eating it. A few people walked into the locker room but they didn't really pay any attention to me.

So I was done eating some of the brownie and I ran out to the now in progress activity going on on the basketball court. The lines of pre-teens and adolescents were impossibly long, but there were only 3 people in the middle aged line and 4 or 5 people in the old as fuck line. So I got in the middle aged line. And people bounced the basketball to me but since the court was so large no basketballs ever really came to me. Sometimes rebounds would end up in the middle between the girls bouncing the balls and the lines of guys. So a few times I ran out to go grab one, but I would never get there in time to beat a younger person or one of the girls that ran out to grab it. Before I even had a chance to shoot a basketball,

I woke up.

context:

This dream happened on a friday night at about 3:00 AM
I woke up at about 1:30 PM.
Events in the stream of consciousness go from beginning to end, so the events at the end are much more fleshed out as I remember them more clearly
I was drinking the previous night as well as playing resident evil 5 (drinking triggers more vivid dreams[?])
I ate chinese food the night before, and it was really spicy (I have heard spicy food triggers more vivid dreams)
I had worked 40+ hours the week before and gotten little sleep the night before, so I was due for a long sleep
Liam Neeson's wife Natasha Richardson died this week (RIP, mourn ya till I join ya)
most of the things in the dream were based fully in real events, the clarinet story and the bass clarinet playing
the dream is loaded with symbolism, some of which is extremely obvious