Date of dream: Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Level of Lucidity:
N/A
Level of Cohesiveness: 
This dream has been viewed 7925 times.
I'm looking at an example of when a dog gets a hole in its heart from heartworms [I think I dreamed this because the
dog I used to have did get heartworm, and had to have treatments to kill the parasite off; after that, he always had a
heart murmur because it left a hole between the chambers of his heart].
(shift) I'm at some place where extremely handsome gay men are being interviewed for a TV show. There's a lot of
joking going on, and several of them are romantically interested in me -- which makes me happy. One of them gives me
a TV remote control and then when I look at him, he freezes into place with this look of admiration in his eyes.
I wake up and immediately think, Was he a ghost?
I eat a yogurt and go back to sleep.
I'm in a huge stadium-seating style courtroom. I've been hired as an extra -- they're filming a movie about the Salem
witch trials.
from "Salem Witch Trials Documentary Archive"
M___, a coworker from real life, has also been hired, and I'm chatting with him. Every time he talks to me, though, he
leans in very close and whispers. Finally I tell him to just talk normally, there's no need to do that.
"But the cameras will pick up that we're not talking about the Salem witch trials," he whispers again.
"The cameras are too far away to pick up what we're talking about. What they WILL pick up is that your body language
says that you're not talking normally, and attention will be drawn to us extras ... something we're not supposed to let
happen," I tell him sternly.
(shift) Something about a movie star.
I wake up.
Additional Comments:
The interesting thing about the part where the gay men were interested in me is that my life used to be sort of like that,
when I was younger and lived in the big city (where gay men are more "out."). But now that I'm older and out in the
suburbs, it's very rare that I detect what could pass for interest in me. This dream made me realize that I do kind of
miss that attention, but when I woke up I became aware of just how used to it that I've become. I'm not sure why I
thought the man looking at me was a ghost. Perhaps he really was someone who died in the horrible wave of deaths that
occurred among the gay population when AIDS first started in the 1980s?
There's something about the witch trials dream that I can't quite put my finger on. I think it has something to do with the
whole idea of extras in movie production, and how they're expected to be "seen and not heard."
Date of dream: Monday, November 27, 2006
Level of Lucidity:
N/A
Level of Cohesiveness:
This dream has been viewed 9807 times.
I'm in a hotel, in room 326. An electrical appliance I'm holding suddenly bursts into flames, and the whole place is soon
in a conflagration. I help an elderly man get down the stairs and away from the fire. We don't take the elevator,
because I tell him it's more important for the people in the stories higher up to use it.
Something about Superman [I can't remember this part!].
I wake up, eat a yogurt, and go back to sleep.
I'm at a class reunion of the boarding academy I went to out in California. I'm hanging out with my brother's friends,
though -- which is kind of odd, because that was the year that I had my own friends (most of my school years I hung out
with friends of my two brothers). Finally I see two women that were my friends way back then, and we start chatting. I
leave my brother's friends and spend the rest of the time with them.
(shift) Someone is having a sex change. It's actually B___, someone who was in my eighth grade class IRL. He's telling
us about all the hormone therapy he's receiving, and what operations are coming up [I don't know why I would have
dreamed this, he was not someone who seemed likely to have this procedure done ... at least not from what I could tell in
eighth grade!]. One of my older brother's friends is there, and he's a little horrified by what he's hearing, and he finds an
excuse to leave. I'm not uncomfortable at all around B___, though, so I continue to listen to his story. It occurs to me
that growing up gay for me was a lot like what he went through growing up, except maybe it was a little harder for him.
(shift) I'm sleeping in my old bedroom in the house we lived in in southern California. I notice that a red haired man with
frizzly sideburns is sitting on a fence post across the street, but that he's actually been watching me sleep, for my curtains
have been open. I'm curious about whether he has a romantic interest in me, and I resolve to go out and talk to him as
soon as I get dressed.
(shift) I'm up at my parents cabin in the woods of New Hampshire. Someone -- an elderly man -- has been taking care of
it, but I notice that he has torn the garage down. All that is left is the roof, which is still intact ... but it's lying on the
grass. I comment how nice it is to have more open space without the garage [in real life this is not true, because my
siblings just got through refurbishing the garage and turning it into a spare bedroom].
(shift) I'm looking through a black-and-white microscope at human parasites. They form and mutate right before my
eyes. One looks like a caterpillar with soft, wavy antennas. I worry that because my thoughts seem to be creating them
right under the scope, could they also leap into my body and parasitize me if I think about it? I'm terrified by this
thought, and even more so when the caterpillar creature leaps out of the microscopic field of view. Did it leap into my
body?
(shift) I'm outside my apartment, but I'm having trouble remembering my street address. False memory is telling me
that I still live in S___ (the town I lived in right before where I live now). I can't figure out why I can't remember such a
simple thing! A taxi driver from India that drives me around all the time [false memory again] is asking me if it's ok for
him to still call me when it's about time for me to be picked up from wherever it is that he brought me. I tell him, yes,
that it's very helpful. He asks me if I'm sure about that, because some of his customers are complaining about this very
thing. I insist that I appreciate very much him doing this, and not to change a thing.
I wake up.
Date of dream: Sunday, November 26, 2006
Level of Lucidity:
N/A
Level of Cohesiveness:
This dream has been viewed 7993 times.
We're going somewhere on a dark road. I'm driving and I accidentally rear end the car in front of me -- just a bump,
though. Our cousins are all there, in a car behind us, including the daughters of my cousin who died of leukemia.
It becomes daylight, and their car stops at someone's house. But I don't see them turn off fast enough, and zoom right
by.
When I realize my mistake, I just decide to keep on going. Now it's just my brother, D___, and I in the car.
We arrive in the little town we used to live in in New Hampshire. Dad needs to give D___ and I some immunizations for
hepatitis. He shows me a newspaper article that is praising him for what a renowned doctor he is, and also has a picture
of D___ and I with a caption that says how lucky we are to be his sons.
I notice the picture's a little old, for both D__ and I have moustaches. Other than that, I'm pleased with the picture of
myself -- which is unlike real life, in which I'm never happy with pictures of myself.
But then I'm a little troubled to read that I'm here in town to get vaccinated because of risky sexual behavior some time
ago. I get angry and start yelling at Dad for revealing that information to the local paper.
But then I suddenly remember -- in my 20s, when I first came out of the closet, I did do a few risky things. Shortly after
that, the AIDS crisis broke and I practically became celibate [this was true in real life].
I don't quite figure out, though, that it was still wrong for the newspaper to publish this information.
I wake up, eat a yogurt, and go back to sleep.
I'm helping with bookkeeping in a hospital lab. I'm looking through a glass plate that magnifies file folders that's beneath
it. A mechanical hand moves the file folders. Right now it's sorting phone calls made to the lab. A bunch of them say,
"Frannie," who is the mother of one of my coworkers.
I wake up.
