Date of dream: Sunday, April 26, 2009
Level of Lucidity:
N/A
Level of Cohesiveness: 
Lucid Intent?
No
This dream has been viewed 443 times.
I got in a huge misunderstanding with my mom over the phone. She told me some happy Christian story involving a music box over the phone, and I practically exploded at her because I felt like I’d heard it a bajillion times lately. She got really offended and freaked out and thought I was leaving God or something. Dad was really freaked out too.
Later, I’m on the phone with them again except I’m in the backyard of our house and there’s lots of others there too. I walk around towards the front and see my parents walking around from the front to the back. They are kind of upset that I’m actually at their home, since they were expecting a phone conversation. I’m on the verge of tears and want to talk it out in person, because it allows less confusion and more release of emotion. I explain that I was really stressed during the previous phone call.
Later, We are in the first row for some sort of talk (maybe church? maybe something political?). I lean my head on my mom’s shoulder to show that I care and think the fight should be over. She ignores me but lets me be. Somehow, during the course of the talk I end up leaning on the fat old city council member next to me, clutching his arm like I do Joel’s. Apparently, I’m very cute. There’s some other political guy sitting in front of me (or maybe on my lap? I don’t remember). When it’s over, a Moms in Touch lady several rows back says “that’s how she’s getting those guys at the nerd school. By being all cuddly” in a disdainful “how promiscuous” sort of voice.
Additional Comments:
In my original dream journal, I had an inline comment saying that I had been on the verge of tears a lot lately.
Date of dream: Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Level of Lucidity:
N/A
Level of Cohesiveness:
Lucid Intent?
No
This dream has been viewed 449 times.
School had started already. I ran into Mr. Gainley in the hall, and I was going to say something about AP Chemistry. He told me that his name was now “Gains” and that he was teaching Special Ed. Mr. Fleming had been assigned to teach AP Chem. So the first day arrives and we have a sub (Mr. Fleming almost NEVER has subs) and apparently she's permanent. She is completely clueless and tries to teach us 8th grade science instead. Somehow the next day our class is to be held in a tree down the lane. There is a huge ampitheater in there for college sized classes and we are to be taught by a big scary biker dude. I do something wrong and he threatens to run me over, so I run out of the class and down the lane to the tree where the other AP Chem class is being tuaght. This classroom is large with gigantic wooden tables like the ones in the Busch Gardens Festhaus. I sneak under the tables until I find one where many of my friends are. These friends are basically all the ones who would have taken Pre-AP Science 8. The class is completely pointless and we don't do anything. All the teacher does is ponder Science 8 materials and randomly pass out papers that he never assigns. Laura amuses herself by burning things secretly under the table using something like a mini Coleman stove.
Additional Comments:
This is a rough date. This dream occurred sometime during the family east coast vacation in the summer of 2006.
My junior year of high school was about to start, and I was looking forward to (and dreading the workload of) AP Chemistry even though I wouldn't have it until second semester. Mr. Fleming was my 8th grade science teacher, and by far the best teacher I've ever had. Mr. Gainley was among the next best, which means that he was pretty dang awesome too. I'm pretty sure that I checked to make sure he was still teaching chemistry during the first week of school.
Date of dream: Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Level of Lucidity:
N/A
Level of Cohesiveness:
Lucid Intent?
No
This dream has been viewed 479 times.
Right on the front page of the local section of the newspaper were the obituaries. Right at the top was Felix Gersten, who had died in Iraq. Apparently their family had been vacationing there and had become involved in a battle of some sort. He was standing on the wall taking out the enemy and protecting civilians when he was hit by a missile or grenade or something. The missile was meant for the civilian behind him, who would not stop saying “my savior, my savior” over and over in Arabic as he died. This news hit me like a ton of bricks and I felt completely helpless.
