Date of dream: Saturday, August 28, 2004
Level of Lucidity: N/A
Level of Cohesiveness: 
Lucid Intent? No
This dream has been viewed 4217 times.
Didn't take notes, so this is vague.
I think Ma and I were in some city--maybe like the one in "Wait, You're Not Phil Collins!"--and for some reason we were going to go pay a visit to...Drake, one of the characters in my fantasy serial Manitou Island. O_o In that story, Drake was fourteen years old and a geeky annoying little squirt; in the in-progress sequel, he doesn't appear until near the very end, because he's now fifteen and hit his growth spurt so he's a lot taller, with a deeper voice, and not quite so geeky, though still somewhat goofy. You know that awkward phase guys go through. Drake went through that right after Manitou Island ended, thank God.
Well, for some reason he was now a real person, and Ma and I were going to go visit him. Throughout this dream it's like it was both real and yet roleplayed by me (typical), and I seemed to alternate between being myself and playing Charmian, the female lead in the same serial (also a fourteen year old, then a fifteen year old). Since females hit puberty sooner than males, she stays basically the same in both stories--she's already more mature than Drake in the first one--but that also means that when he finally appears in the sequel, she seems on the surface to be younger than he is, since in the first story she's about five-three and he's maybe five-two, then in the sequel she's still five-three and Drake is...God knows what Drake is, but it's TALL. Well, I'm assuming most people reading this have been there and done that so you know what I mean. We were going to pay Drake a visit.
Apparently he lived in this really nice apartment or something in this city. I don't recall seeing the city since my memory picks up with us already in the building and on our way up in an elevator or something. I have to guess at some parts of this as like I said it's very vague, so some of this is assuming. I think this was an elevator and it may have had openings on two sides so when it stopped on a floor, you could step out in either direction. It seemed to be a very small cramped elevator, like a little closet. I think Ma got in first, then me, and we stood in it as it went up; then it opened and I started to step out the door on my side, only to almost step into somebody's bathroom!! It was a very small bathroom with a shower but no tub--like a half bathroom. In fact that seemed to be all there was to it, the standing shower, and there were at least a couple of women/females in there, washing and dressing and primping themselves and such; I think they were startled by me abruptly setting foot in the room, but they weren't offended or anything. I very quickly stepped back into the elevator, offering profuse apologies, and must have turned and gone out the other way as I was then with Ma again and I groused, "The next time, I'm getting in first!"
(That part could in fact be backwards. If I had gotten in the elevator first, then obviously I would have said, "The next time, I'm getting in SECOND!")
Well, I think we got off in this hallway and went walking toward a door we knew to be Drake's. I was excited to get to see him. Remember that I seemed to be myself, then I seemed to be playing the part of Charmian--more playing her than actually being her, because I was thinking up the words I should say and how I should act. I guess we knocked on his door--hazy--and Drake himself opened it, surprised to see us. I did not actually see him but I did imagine what he would look like, and it was basically the way the mature Drake is supposed to look in Return To Manitou Island--tall, lanky, with kind of floppy tousled light brown hair. IMO Drake is most likely cute in a goofy innocent way, but so far the way I have created him, he's not really a character I'd in any way be attracted to. Yet in this dream it's like I had this HUGE instant crush on him. As Charmian, I launched myself forward and threw my arms around him in delight.
"DRAKE!" I cried. "I can't BELIEVE it's you! It's SO great to see you!!"
Yeah, I guess it had been a while or something... o_O Maybe I was pretending Charmian hadn't expected to see such a change in him. (In my fiction, she saw him grow up, so it would have been no surprise.) Ma just kind of came in behind me, all neutral and uninvolved. Drake himself was startled by my reaction and kind of stammered his hellos in an awkward way, yet I refused to let him go, I was so giddy. Now at this point, I was also roleplaying him, putting words in his mouth and making him talk, and at first he was talking in a higher voice, maybe my regular voice, but then I thought, "No, Drake's almost an adult now; he has a deeper voice than that." So I modified it and made it deeper.
I can't recall the specifics of everything we said, but basically he welcomed us there and I was very happy to see him. And I had such a big crush on him! In my story Charmian and Drake do NOT have crushes on each other, despite what some readers might think; there's one tense scene where Drake accidentally falls on top of Charmian and they stare each other in the eyes for a moment, but then she promptly knees him in the groin, and it's over. ^_^ And she has a new male lead in the sequel, whom she DOES have a crush on. So the weird way I was feeling about Drake all throughout this dream was quite odd, both for me AND for Charmian. Until this dream I never had any reason to be attracted to Drake whatsoever!
I only just realized this, but he seemed to be living on his own, despite his age in the current story being only fifteen. Hm. Maybe he was older here. Anyway, I guess he invited us in (belatedly, as it was), and offered to make us something to eat. I can't remember what it was but it was some sort of funky ethnic dish. He listed three ingredients--two things I either didn't mind or liked (maybe meats or something), and then mushrooms--mushrooms was the last ingredient, and the only one I recall specifically. I HATE cooked mushrooms! >_< But I did not want to be rude to him, since he had put up with my obnoxiousness with an awful lot of grace so far. I thought, maybe I can just kind of pick them out as I eat; besides, the rest of the dish sounded pretty good. So instead of asking him to please hold the mushrooms, I agreed, and Ma did as well. I felt a little bad for possibly making Drake feel put upon, obligated to feed us when we were unexpected visitors, but he was just so nice that I wanted to join him for dinner. Besides, he had offered, and turning him down would be rude by now.
I can't describe his apartment but it was very nice. Kind of modern, yet cozy. Perhaps the carpeting was kind of taupe or camel colored; I think the walls were white but the lighting was low, like from table lamps, and warm yellow, so some of the place was thrown into shadow and I liked it. At some point we walked past some sort of display or decoration on our left, next to the wall; I know that it had to do with water somehow, like an aquarium or fish tank, only I seem to also think it resembled a coffeepot. I think it was a novelty light or display; you know, like a lava lamp or a little TV with fish swimming in it. Something like that. I paused to look at this in curiosity and I was really interested in it; I believe I touched it or picked up the coffeepot-like part. I was careful with it though because it wasn't mine and I didn't want to break it. We continued on our way into a dining area or den or something. None of the rooms were spacious; all seemed a little cramped, and maybe at odd angles like the walls were funny, and there were shelves and furniture to sit on like little couches and beanbag chairs maybe and there was very little room but I liked it. Drake went to go make us dinner as we settled into the den or whatever it was.
However, before he could, something happened and maybe somebody showed up with some sort of generic, more mundane food than Drake had planned for us, like pizza or fried chicken or something. I don't know who this was or if it was even a person but I started eating this new food item before Drake even had a chance to say anything. He looked at me like, "Oh," and then half-suggested, half-stated that he would stop preparing dinner for us since we now had something else to eat. He wasn't angry, just kind of puzzled that we had agreed for him to make us dinner yet now here I was, eating this other food without even telling him first. He took it much better than I thought he should have, and I felt guilty for doing that to him--barging into his place, demanding food, then turning my back on it and making him feel useless. Granted, he didn't seem to take it very poorly at all, but I still felt bad. Very rude of me! :(
Real-life associations--not too long ago I was typing up some facts about the Manitou Island sequel and these included Drake's part in it. I mentioned how, during the writing of the first story, I had people telling me how irritating Drake was, and somebody even cheered when he seemed to meet with a gruesome end. Then during the current story, I've had people asking me where he is and when he will show up again. This switch in opinion has puzzled me somewhat but not enough to warrant much attention. Drake is not a favorite character of mine and I don't even have reason to have a crush on him since he's not my type (even if he were old enough! o_o; ), so why I should dream of going to visit him, I have no clue. I did not see the city at all but for some reason it makes me think vaguely of that in my earlier dream, "Wait, You're Not Phil Collins!", in which I failed to get an autograph from Dog the bounty hunter.
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Date of dream: Tuesday, August 24, 2004
Level of Lucidity: N/A
Level of Cohesiveness:
Lucid Intent? No
This dream has been viewed 4221 times.
I took notes for this, as it was clear between rounds of sleep, yet it's somewhat foggier now even with the notes, sorry.
I was in some kind of very large class. The room was built like an auditorium, but a lot bigger--I think it sloped upward or downward toward the front/back, was carpeted (red?), with dark walls and a high ceiling, and lots of seats or desks in horizontal rows (parallel to the front of the room), maybe with an aisle down the middle. It was lit by electrical light; I don't remember windows of any sort, though at the back of the room there was a door/double (?) doors leading out into a lobby or hallway or something like in a movie theater maybe, perhaps with a concrete floor. VERY big room, but I didn't feel uncomfortable there.
The teacher was a bespectacled older man, a little stocky, who I am certain was well known and possibly famous; I get the feeling he was a writer, maybe a famous sci-fi writer. Maybe he was like a cross between Ray Bradbury and Stephen King. But he also made me think of my high school science teacher, Mr. Workman. He was lecturing the class while I...wandered around near the back. I wasn't in my seat and I wasn't even listening! I just wandered around and around, pretending to be my characters. This would be very weird behavior for me. I was acting almost like a little kid. I went to the door(s) and took a step out into the hall, turned around, and came back in, pretending I was one of my characters just entering the room. I thought I would pretend to be my character Derrick Grant. Then as I walked into the room I decided, maybe I should pretend to be Justin Reichert, instead? I imagined myself as Detective Reichert, stepping into a room and nodding hello to people.
As I did this I finally thought, "Maybe I should go back to my seat and listen to what the teacher is saying before I miss out on everything." I at last felt a little bit guilty for ignoring the lecture, no matter how little the teacher seemed to care, so I walked back up toward my desk. (I guess it was more likely that the floor sloped downward toward the back.) I turned to the left where my seat at my desk was. I get the feeling we were more attached to our seats rather than to the desks, for some guy had taken my seat and I was more concerned about that than about the desk; I do think they were desks, but with how unterritorial we were about them, perhaps they were more like long tables. In any event this guy had taken my seat. I think it was one of those plastic chairs like in elementary school, colored, possibly light orange-yellow. The guy in my seat, I believe, made me think of Jeremiah S., a student from high school--kind of big guy, close-cropped black hair, odd husky voice. I never liked him much though we weren't really enemies and just didn't really care to know each other. I felt a tiny bit upset about losing my seat but as I stood there looking at him he got up and moved to a chair next to mine and sat down without a word. Relieved, I resumed my own seat. The teacher, in the meantime, was saying something about amnesia, or maybe I was thinking about amnesia in conjunction with losing my seat. I'm afraid I can't recall that part.
Well, I sat down, and now the teacher walked down the aisle (?) between the desks, and he was talking about how people write stories. "Sometimes," he said, "it's as if the story is already written, even before the writer has a chance to write it out on the page. It's as if the story appears fully formed in their head, almost without them willing it, its plot already entirely present. The writers then merely put it down on paper as they've already seen it in their mind."
I guess this was a writing class. A few of us started nodding thoughtfully. The guy beside me got a skeptical look. "I don't buy that," he mumbled.
I shrugged a little. When I spoke it was more in general, toward the class or the teacher, not directly to the male student. "I've had something like that happen to me," I murmured. "I won't entirely plot a story out, then when I'm already writing it, it's like the rest of the plot just falls into place in my head somehow, somewhere along the way. Then I start writing from that. It's like I can just 'see' it in my mind, the way the rest of the story should go, before I even thought of writing it out that way."
(This is all paraphrased, remember.)
I don't know if the guy student was convinced or not, but I think the teacher heard me. I guess we then all moved to start working in groups on some kind of project, or just to wait for something. I now faced the back of the room and I think the desks were arranged in squares so the students would face each other across them. My old friend Mya S. was with my group; there were about four or five of us, and we may have included the guy student and another girl and somebody else. I can't recall the specifics of this part either, but Mya seemed to have asked the teacher's permission to go ahead on some sort of project or paper or something. The teacher stopped by our group--I was seated closer to the left wall on facing the back of the room, and he and Mya stood over toward the right sides of the desks, students sitting between us--and started talking with Mya. When she presented her idea or whatever, the teacher denied her request, saying something like, "I think you should get more out of your work." I got the feeling he meant that he knew she had potential, but he felt she wasn't applying herself as hard as she could, to achieve the best results. She was in effect wasting her efforts on trivial things when she could do so much better. He seemed to be saying that if she put more of herself into her work, she might get more out of it that would help her grow and learn as a person. I got the feeling Mya wasn't really caring about her work as much as she should--it was just a chore to her, not a learning experience. Or something like that.
Mya's reaction was to simply turn and leave the class. I get the feeling she took another student or member of the group with her though I don't recall seeing this--and oddly enough I get the feeling it might have been Jessi W., another old best friend of mine. (In real life Jessi and Mya did not know each other; they were my best friends at different times. Both of them moved away while we were in school, BTW, and that was what led to the ends of our friendships.) This reminded me vaguely of something that happened in a real-life creative writing class I had in college; when the teacher harshly criticized another student who was a sorta friend of mine, Heather R., she grew so angry that she argued with him and then stormed out of the class, never to return. I felt bad that I didn't try to help her feel better, though there wasn't anything I could have done. As a matter of fact, I disliked a lot of that teacher's criticisms as rather stupid and restricting for "creative" writing, myself--he actually took issue with usage of the word "seems," for crying out loud, and thought that big words like "infinitesimal" were unnecessary when "little" would suffice! I was always too chicken to speak up against him, though. Anyway, Mya's reaction here made me think of Heather's reaction--rather too drastic, in my opinion, though I could sympathize. Although in this case, I felt the teacher had more of a point than Mya did; after all, he was telling her she had lots of potential.
I felt a little bit bad as Mya (and Jessi?) left; I hadn't even gotten to talk with her. I had been excited to learn she was part of my group, but now she was gone without a word for me. I felt kind of bad, like I should have stopped her, or followed her, but I didn't; I wanted to work on my project. I wasn't as upset about her leaving without me getting to talk to her as I would be in real life; the class seemed more important, I guess.
Anyway, I believe we all returned to what we were doing. I seemed to have some bright fluorescent colored paper that I was writing on. I can't remember what I was writing though. I kept my head low and pretended not to be paying attention to what was going on around me. The teacher turned and came over toward me and stopped beside my desk. I just kept my head down and continued writing as if I didn't notice him. I felt embarrassed, like I was too stupid and untalented to be here.
The teacher leaned down as if to talk to me in confidence. "I'd like for you to be the one to help me out on my comedy project," he said (or something to that effect). I sense maybe the other students peered at me when he said this, and I suddenly felt VERY self-conscious. I got a flash of dream memory here; the teacher had asked myself, and maybe some other students, to consider helping him out on some kind of comedy writing project, maybe a play of some kind, and asked us to consider it for a while. Since I never see myself as helpful in any respect, I hadn't committed to anything; it had been tempting to be offered the chance to work with such a well-known teacher, but I felt I would never do so. So my own consideration had been merely to be polite. If he would have asked me straight out before, I probably would have meekly turned him down with a lot of excuses that I wasn't good enough for the job and a lot of other students were, and he would have gone on to pick one of them.
Instead, several of us had been offered the chance to think about it, I believe, and then he decided to choose the best one for the job...and that one happened to be me. o_o In real life I am not much of one for comedy, particularly comedy writing, but this didn't seem to register as much in the dream. Now when he told me he had chosen me for the job, I felt VERY self-conscious and anxious. I could hardly turn him down now! He'd picked ME out of all the students he'd deemed worthy enough for the job. Me! That meant he must think my writing was good, and that made me feel giddy. On the other hand, I really did not believe I was up to the task, nor was I sure I could be helpful in this particular area. It's not like the teacher would have FORCED me to do it if I didn't want to, but I did not want to turn him down, especially if he felt I was the only one who could do it right; whether I agreed with that judgement or not wasn't the issue. Even if *I* felt I wasn't the right choice, it was HIS choice, and I felt bad turning it down. So I just scribbled on my paper and bit my lip and thought, not sure what to say.
He stood beside me for a moment, and I was still trying to overcome my anxiety and tell him okay, I'd try to help him out, when he started to talk again. I think (but I'm not sure, foggy) he leaned down and started to tell me how I'd best prepare myself for the project: "You're going to have to..." I lifted my head and tried to stop scribbling in order to listen to him...but that was when the alarm clock went off and I had to get up. I never did get to hear what I was meant to do, exactly.
Real-life associations? I've already explained the deal with Mya and Jessi, and then with Mya and Heather; though in the dream Mya's reactions were very unusual based on what I used to know of her. The orange(?) chair made me think of how a few days ago I saw a similar chair in real life and explained to Ma how whenever I sat in a chair like that back in elementary school, I'd get very thirsty for orange juice all day long. Other than that, I can think of no reason why this particular dream showed up. I did get a strong feeling that I wanted to please this teacher in whatever way I could, so perhaps he was my Animus.
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Date of dream: Wednesday, August 18, 2004
Level of Lucidity: N/A
Level of Cohesiveness:
Lucid Intent? No
This dream has been viewed 4185 times.
I was downtown in some sort of city; it looked nothing like Cheboygan, though I seemed to know it at least somewhat. It was nighttime and the streetlights were on; people were wandering around doing things. It may have been cold as people may have been wearing coats but I'm not sure. Ma was around and I seemed to be wandering all over looking for different things, maybe interesting stores. I didn't feel lost or anxious or anything, more curious I suppose. The city was a nice one with trees every so often, not like a big ugly industrial city. I kept walking around all these different sidestreets. There didn't seem to be any traffic nearby.
At some point I crossed this blond guy who I know only as "Dog"--he's the star of an upcoming A&E reality TV series called Dog The Bounty Hunter, and he's this tough bounty hunter who has a cute family. *rolls eyes* I hate reality TV and of course this series has me cringing already. But so far this is the second dream of mine that "Dog" has shown up in (I never took note of the other one and so forgot it). I have no clue why. He was just wandering around doing his own thing, too.
After parting ways with him (we didn't interact or anything), I somehow remembered that it was Dog who had written the Phil Collins songs from the Disney Tarzan soundtrack! And that had me so jazzed! I love the Tarzan soundtrack and I love Phil Collins's music! Greatly excited, I ran to find Ma and babbled to her all about this. I felt VERY impressed by Dog all of a sudden. Ma didn't seem to care much. I really, really wanted to go and meet Dog and talk to him about his involvement in Phil Collins's music but I was far too shy to talk to him. I think I/we passed by him again and he might have been standing on the sidewalk talking with some kids or signing autographs or something; he was just a regular guy, like he appears in the real-life ads. I/we walked by and I was tempted to stop and say hello and talk to him, but felt too embarrassed, and so kept on walking. "Oh well," I thought, and tried to brush off my disappointment in myself. I wasn't terribly upset, but still, it would have been nice to talk to the guy who wrote such great songs as "Two Worlds" and "You'll Be In My Heart." :/
At some point in here I at last realized...hold on a minute...wasn't it Phil Collins himself who wrote those songs? o_o Yes, it was. Phil does write most of his own songs. So what was the deal with Dog writing them? Even if Dog wrote them, he was not the person who sang them, and the singer was who mattered! So that made me feel less disappointed to not meet him since it was actually Phil Collins I would have preferred to meet! But again at some point it's like I equated the two of them with each other, as if they WERE the same person, and it made some sort of sense, but this dream is already very jumbled so I have no real clue what it all meant. Ma and I might have then gone shopping or something.
This dream might have been related to or part of one of the others from this night.
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