I Hate Airports

Spur of the moment, I decide I am going back to France, and, what do you know, my sister happens to have two tickets. There is no time to pack, we just leave.
I have no recollection of being on the first flight, but all of a sudden we are in an unknown airport where we must catch out second flight. I think it must be Dubai. There are no signs, only clocks, which tell me that it is 9:30 PM. I know we must be on the connecting flight my 9:40, but I do not know the number or airline because Laura has the tickets. She pulls them out and determines that the connecting flight is controlled by British Airways... but when we look at a list of airlines, British Airways does not operate out of this airport. Laura pulls me over to a phone booth and rifles through a packet of papers she finds there. It is some sort of airline code book, and she finally tells me that the Airline we are looking for is the national airline of the Democratic Republic of the Congo. The packet also tells her that there is a fee of 250,000 Rand (South African currency) for the non-corresponding airlines, which I equate in my head to $4,000.
An Indian woman passing by overhears us and tells us that we've got it all wrong. She shows me a map of the airport, and shows me which desk I should go to to get my own map of the airport, which in turn will direct me to information. I'm pretty sure we missed our flight.

Dork Dance and (Not My) Wedding Anxiety

I am on vacation with my family, and my parents have decided that it would be beneficial to our cultural knowledge to visit a theme park. The theme park is located on a rocky cliff, and the manager directs our car into the cave so we can begin the ride. The whole thing is really sketchy and makes me really uncomfortable, like the bad circus, and I keep telling my mom that we should quit, "before it's too late." The path we drive down is very narrow, crumbling at the edges, where it drops down about five feet to moats of lava on either side. We proceed at a crawling pace in the Mini Cooper so as to avoid the campus squirrels and cardboard vampires that keep popping up. Finally my mom gets tired of waiting for the exciting part, so we reverse out of the cave, which is only about twenty feet long.

I return to my hotel room to make a flower arrangement, only to find the math team staying there. I happen to know one of the guys from somewhere random, so I decide I should chat with him so I don't appear unfriendly. While we are chatting awkwardly some music starts playing on the stereo, and I get really excited, thinking everyone is about to start dancing, and things will loosen up a bit. I exclaim, "Come on, we should dance!" and start grooving.
The guy just stares at me and goes, "Uhhh..."
"Come on, this is a great song!" He just looks around at his teammates, and I look at them too and see them all standing motionless, slouching and staring at me. I should have realized that of course the math team would never know how to dance, but I am the huge dork in this situation.

Later someone else has Garett's (my sister's fiance's) green bike, and they want to ride somewhere with me. In the gift shop of Fontainebleau I realize I'm supposed to be in love with this person. I decide I will act like I am for a while, because it must be part of the plan where we pretend like we're in love for a while. Then I realize I actually am in love with the person, and they are in love with me, but I feel terrible because I've only just now realized I really love them, so I must have been lying to them for a long time out of convenience. I want to tell them the truth, that I finally love them and only now found out, am too scared to say anything because they will probably hate me for lying for so long.

Intruding

I sit in a crowded room with many other students. Our TA directs us to pick out our favorite shoe from our box. My box is filled with really ugly shoes, and I have a hard time finding something that is not a loafer. Finally I pull out the only colorful thing, a Pepto-Bismol colored pump with a bow on the toe. We go around the circle telling why we picked out shoe and I have a hard time explaining, "Well, I like the color, even though I really don't like wearing pink..." My TA takes the shoe and pulls the heel off, showing me that it converts into a flat. I like it even less now, and I say so, putting the heel back on, and realize how uncomfortable it would be to walk in a convertible shoe.

Now the class, which includes some people I know, has moved to a very messy house. While it wasn't us who messed it up, I feel like we should at least pick up, and the first task is to locate all of the portable phones. I find three out of the four; the last one has run out of batteries, so I decide to just clean up the rest of the house until I find it. Some of the walls are Chinese paper screens. I keep finding dirty dishes and bringing them to the sink for the dishwashing team to clean. As I bring the last, large pile of dishes, a car pulls up in the wooded driveway, and three people get out. Suddenly I realize this is Kris' grandparents' cabin (although arranged completely differently), and they're about to find me in the middle of their trashed house. We frantically wash the last dishes, but can't finish as Kris' great aunt comes in the house. His grandma is next, and pulls me into a hug, saying, "I'm so glad you came back like you said you would!" (This is true. In reality, the last time I saw his grandparents at the cabin his grandma said I should come back and I said I would.) His grandpa says, "I'm glad you took us up on the offer!... and you left a few dirty dishes, didn't you?" He chuckles, but I am incredibly embarrassed about the mysterious mess, and I leave very soon after.

I walk down a street that resembles the intersection of Delridge in front of my parents' shop, but in London/West Seattle instead of White Center. On one side fo the street is my grandma's old house. A few of my friends and I ave been sent on a mission, I think to open the door when the trick-or-treaters come, even though some filmmaker lives there now. We crawl conspicuously through the front yard, which has been trimmed of its nice hedges, and narrowly avoid some cobwebs getting through the shed into the backyard. We go in through the back sliding door and creep around silently. I get to the den, hear the television and see the silhouettes of children through the crack in the door, and finally feel like I shouldn't be there. I try to find my followers and silently tell them we need to leave, when the front door starts to open. "Abort! Abort!" I whisper, and fall through the floor into the garage.

Guilt and Rats

The transition from sunny, sandy beach to the gloom of this sewer messes with my eyes. Once I have adjusted to the dark, I find myself crawling through at least six inches of liquid refuse. Around me are thousands of cranes, glaring at me for intruding on their last sanctuary. I understand that if I want to save their dying population, I must locate the source of parasites and disease into the sewers.
I crawl around some sort of buttress and begin to clamber up a metal ladder. Upon reaching the top, I find myself face to face with a very large rat. He must be the reason the cranes are all dying! I snatch up a book and try to smash the rat, but it scampers deftly away. I pause and open the book. On the back cover there is a picture of the very same rat - I realize that this rat was previously a well-renowned author. Upon becoming a rat his books no longer sold, and he banished himself to this sewer. Still, I must eliminate him. I chase it around the narrow upper lip of the sewer, where it meets ground level and there is a long, low window. Glancing out, I see a mob of people, who seem to be incensed at me. It seems they think that I am responsible for the death of the hamster. The rat suddenly becomes very vicious, and turns to bite me. Dodging, I slip off the ledge and begin to fall towards the slime that is crane poop and general death. I flip open the book and begin to read, knowing it will slow my descent. As I am hurtling towards my doom, my parents and sister appear from a spiral staircase and begin to chastise me for killing the hamster. I tell them it wasn't me, it was this fucking rat! It appears from the wall and begins to charge towards me. My family doesn't believe it is evil and does nothing to intercept it. By this point I am somewhat frantically irritated. My alarm wakes me and I find myself extremely pissed off at rats in general, for putting all the blame on me and then trying to kill me.

Doom and General Incompetency

My sister skateboards down our driveway into the garage. It is warm and sunny outside, though exceedingly clear, like a winter day. I want to learn to skate, so she hops off and I change the music in the CD player. Though it's not on the CD I insert, The Decemberist's "Oceanside" comes on. I can hear more clearly than ever before the chord structure and strumming patterns, as if the crisp air aids the sound waves on their way to my ear. I realize that for too long, I have been attempting to play this song incorrectly. I will never amount to the musician I should. After aa few minutes spent putting one foot on the skateboard and promptly falling off, I go back inside.

We file into a dimly lit movie theater. Someone inside tells us the movie will not be starting until an hour later, and this is definitely not okay with me. My friends sit down to wait patiently, but I leave again.

Anne Bertucio has left me a note that says "SNACKS." I realize that I was supposed to be organizing the food for the floor meeting that is convening in a matter of minutes. As people begin to gather, I have to tell them that I failed in my food mission. I think to myself that it's because I only just got the note, but in my subconscious I know that it really is my fault.

I have been jettisoned into space with several nuclear missiles. I see that I am drifting towards a glowing orb, which I soon come to realize is the sun. It is my mission to destroy it before it engulfs the earth. I fire several missiles into its center, but nothing happens. The fiery mass grows larger and larger, and I know that soon I will be incinerated. Before this, in an attempt to document my experiences before it's too late, it tell ground control that space is awesome. Like hot dogs. I brace myself for the searing pain, and as the heat increases, I bring a book of instructions up to cover my eyes. Nothing happens. Bringing the book down again, I find I have somehow been turned around and am heading away from the Sun. I rejoice. A book has once again saved my life.

"Caramel Macchiato"

Tom Cruise comes into Solstice during a rush, and his assistant tells us, "Mr. Cruise would like a double short caramel macchiato with extra vanilla and whipped cream in a paper cup". I am working with my boss, Doug, and he and I roll our eyes at each other. I am so tempted to make him a real macchiato, but we are in a hurry, so Doug pulls my some shots while I add the caramel sauce and vanilla. When I pour in the shots I realize how absurd this order is, because there is less than an inch of room left for milk. I shudder in disgust.

Unwanted Haircut

Walking down the street in a slightly older, rundown, semi-industrial residential area, I come across a storefront that draws me in when I see some clothing I recognize as my sister and Maresa's designs in the window. Curious, I go in to ask where they got the clothes from, as my sister has been in South Africa and not making clothes for months. Once inside, I see that it is a very hip hair salon with white painted brick walls, furniture made out of crates and such. I start to ask where they got the Red Llama clothing, but one girl comes up and starts touching my hair, without speaking suggesting that I must sit through a consultation before I get any answers. This is fine with me, I was thinking about getting my hair cut anyway, but she ignores me when I try to tell her what I am looking for, and begins to tell me what I should do with it. I tell her that I actually want to go back to the salon I went to before, because I like the girl who cut my hair at Vain, but when I look in the mirror again, she has already finished cutting and stying my hair.
It is longer than the hair I came in with, and I have funny bangs, but it is well done, and I know I look effortlessly hip. Certainly, I am very happy to have gotten an awesome haircut, it's just not what I wanted. It's too stylishly frumpy 80's for my taste . I tell the girl repeatedly how nice it is, avoiding her question of whether I like it, and try to press on to my original question of where they got the clothing. Nothing I say gets through.
The girl who cut my hair tells the receptionist to give me a reduced rate. I see the receptionist write down $30 on a receipt. I get excited, but then the stylist continues, "Let's say, one-third off, so $150. I laugh at her, in a way that says, "I see right through your plan, but I'll go along because I was stupid enough to get trapped into this". But as soon as the stylist turns around the receptionist changes it to $50, with an $11 tip. This is extremely generous, I feel, since we both know the haircut should only have cost $30. I pay anyway and leave, trying to like my new, very nice haircut.
Outside I find myself on Delridge Way, near the Cooper School.

Who can take a joke?

Two friends decide to go hang gliding off of a steep hill at the end of summer. Their kite-device does not stay aloft and lands of the edge of a very steep cliff. One friend rescues the other from certain death.
On the way back up the hill on friend decides they should pick a leader. The other friend agrees and says the leader should be the cleverest one, hinting that this would not be the one that crashed the kite. The other friend agrees and says that the cleverest one would also be the one who could take a joke and something else very clever and wouldn't the first friend have gotten that joke if he were the cleverest one?
This joke is accompanied by the image of five or six very large-scale AA batteries surrounding a four-legged animal representing the first friend, probably an ass, with two on each side, positive end up, and the last battery coming up to the shocked animal and tapping it gently on the nose with its positive end. The ass had a negative charge.

New Games

A large group of people play hide and seek in a complex of beautiful old buildings. I find my way into the uppermost bedroom, accessible only by ladder, intending to rest there for a while and enjoy the view out the window. I can see everyone in the courtyard below sneaking around. I don't stay long, though. I think I decide that I have to keep playing the game in order for it to be fun.


On the 120 from Burien to White Center, 116th is blocked by police cars. There are people in the street, protesting. Eventually the bus finds a way around and I get off. Later I explain to someone how remarkable the scene was, how the People formed and line and marched toward the Swiss National Guard with the metal pedestrian fences from a construction site. The Swiss National Guard pulled out their guns, but the people refused to back down, then the King County Police department arrived, blocked off the streets, and did nothing to improve the situation.

There is a long line for ice cream in the town that should be deserted. I am determined to order as efficiently as possible, but when I get to the front of the line, The woman shoos me off to the correct cashier. I hurry out and down the street, rushing to someone I know will soon have a confrontation and need help.
I support someone as we hobble down an alley in the town that should be deserted. Then I am that person. When my supporter goes ahead to look for the safe haven, they place me face-up on the ground, and I tell myself it is alright to lay in the street, because I can't move anyway.

How Inappropriate

It is someone's birthday party, and we wander in from the streets to a darkened room. Before a get much of a chance to look around, Kathryn exclaims, "I know, let's go swimming!" I think, "Great!" and when I turn around, everyone has started to climb into the bathtubs of varying shapes and sizes that line one wall, on tiers. Kathryn has taken off her pants already (and is wearing some modest black briefs underneath), and climbed into the highest tub already. I look around and everyone else has started climbing into the remaining tubs, still clothed. Groggily, I stand there wondering what to do, and it finally hits me that everyone is going to have to take off all of their clothes eventually. I go, "No... no, this is really inappropriate..." trying to remember what underwear I am wearing.
A boy about fifteen years old catches my eye as he passes by. I start up a conversation, trying to avoid seeing all of my friends taking off their clothes. Then I find myself kissing the boy. (AGH! How disturbing is that.) When I look over to the bathtubs everyone has fallen conveniently asleep. Then we fall asleep on the floor.
When the boy and I wake up, everyone else is still alseep, so he whispers to me that we should go get coffee at a cafe he knows of in the Faubourg something-or-other, just around the cover. This doesn't make sense to me because we are on the Ile-St.-Louis, and I thought all the Faubourgs were on the west edge of Paris. He gives me directions and I start to follow them. For some reason he does not come with.
I am surprised when the directions he gave me lead to real places, because all of the street names were Italian. Eventually I come out on top of Montmartre (this does not make sense, given the direction I was travelling), into a cirlular place (une place, not a place) with a large sculpture in the center that I have never seen before. It is covered with black grime, but I can tell that it was carved from bright white stone. As I get closer, I get the chilling sense that it represents something terrible.

My Favorite

I ride the 125 to Shorewood in reverse, then get off and walk down the opposite side of the street that I normally walk on. The sidewalk is blocked by some bushes spilling out of a yard, so I get on my hands and knees and crawl under. Lifting my head I come face to face with a huge fluffy cat with an ugly squashed face. I freeze, terrified that it might be hostile. It stares at me until another skinny cat walks up and they have a conversation in French. Then the ugly cat turns to me and says, "Venez chez moi."

At this point I recount the entire dream so far to someone, including a bit I don't remember about getting on the bus because my mom told me I would be able to get a good swimsuit.
Then I continue along the street just past the point where I met the cats.

As soon as I reach the top of the hill I notice the sky and it catches my breath. It is filled with dark, swirling purple and gray clouds, which are frequently lit up with with flashes of lightening. But all I can hear is the sudden absence of gravity and the force of the wind that picks me up from the ground and gently tosses me into space.
It is the most amazing feeling I have ever experienced, and I am instantly terrified that I will never reach the ground again. I struggle against nothing, trying to swim to the ground, but the wind keeps me aloft. Finally it lets me down close enough so that I can touch and claw at the pavement, trying to reach the grass of my parents' lawn for more purchase. Up again, then down and I press my arms and face, then chest to the earth, finally reconnected. I crawl and roll my way into the house.

Again, I recount the dream to someone, determined not to lose it.

The inside of the house is smaller, filled with human-sized carpeted cat condos. I am a waitress and I fly around serving the customers inside.

Art

Kathryn and I board a spiral contraption sitting on the surface of a river. It is dull red cylinder enclosing a spiral staircase that descends into the interior of the contraption. There are other people inside who come up and crowd the staircase as we try to get on. Then it twists down into the water. I expect water to come pouring in from above, but when you cannot see the sky, the water cannot get to you.
The machine transports us down the river a ways, then reemerges. I climb to the top and make some remarks. Then it descends again.

Later, in the modern art museum I surprise a man after a suspended look and kiss his behind a glass wall. I am surprised that I did not notice his unshaven face in the seconds before, and he is a terrible kisser.

Return home from the mission

It is the beginning of the horror movie when all of the characters first meet as they assemble for some common cause, preparing for a seemingly innocent mission into a dangerous place. In this case we are art history students and we have to go on a mission to the unexplored end of the catacombs of Paris, where no one has been for centuries. I lead the group into the tunnel, knowing that we must procede slowly, according to the horror movie formula. However, the dumb blondes get overly enthusiastic just as I make a remark about the halfway point indicated on the ground, and they rush ahead. Of course, chaos erupts and we are all sprinting back towards the entrance of the tunnel as two of our team members are eaten. I make a mental note of what a horrible horror movie this is making, as we are not even ten minutes in and two people have amready been very predictably eaten in a cave that isn't very scary.

From the cave, I emerge out of my parents' bathroom into the waiting reception of family members milling about in the bedroom. I tell them that regrettably, I am not back for good, our work just got further delayed by the accident.

I arrive back at my apartment, and have never been happier to see it. Somehow it has expanded and acquired a lot more light switches and walls. I walk through, gleefully testing all of the switches. My brother pokes his head out from behind a curtain that presumably leads to the kitchen, as a could of steam billows out as well. He is helping me prepare a luncheon for all of my family, who are going to come and welcome me home again. The carrots may not be done in time.

Paris Adventures

Several people from the program are with me on the RER out of Paris. We try to get off, but realise at the last minute that the only exit is at the very back of the train, so we all run, dodging passengers, and hop off. Jessica is the last one and gets stuck inside. She waves to us sadly as the train goes back in the direction it came.

I am visiting a family in France; I must find the correct piece for the symphony to play before the evil conductor (the architect of the Basilica of Sacre Coeur) find the piece he wants the symphony to play.

I have been speeing in a tree. I wake up and sleepily roll over. My vision in very fuzzy, and I can't make out what I am seeing, but after a few seconds I realize I am laying beneath a veil. Sitting on the branch directly above me are two cats. They are frighteningly close, peering at me intently with very animated expressions. I am afraid they might attack me, so I meow at them. They jump down and frolic around, and I come out and play with them.

Someone comes in my room at the MEC while I am sleeping and says, "Look at all this stuff spread around here! It's like you've moved in for a month. How are you going to get it packed up and moved into your other room by noon?" It is 10:30 in the morning. I thought I was supposed to stay in the new room for a week, so I go down to the front desk in my pyjamas to ask if I really need to switch rooms. I ask the a lady I do not recognize, and she tells me, "You have to ask your friend." I look around and Alex is sitting on the couch. I go and sit down next to him, asking, "What are you doing here?"
He doesn't answer, but I don't remember asking the question, so I ask, "Why did you tell them to switch my room?"
He answers, "Because you can sleep in my room."
"And I'll be sleeping...?" "
On the couch," he replies. There is an awkward moment, because I didn't know he had a couch in his room so I hadn't been expecting that answer, and he said it like I shouldn't have asked the question. Also, the couch he is referring to is the one from the computer lab that is comfortable for about two peole to sit on, but certainly not for sleeping.
"Of course," I reply.

Sixième Promenade

Tim and Connor come to my house and steal half of the pot of water I have just begun to boil. This is fine with me because then the rest boild much more quickly for my couscous. Then I notice that they have stolen a page of notes that I was using to study for the final. I chase then down, and Connor says, "But you don't really need it!" I look at the page and discover it is actually a useless page about Charles de Gaulle, not the important page I thought they had. They also have my bar of chocoloate that is in a tiny ice cube tray. Breaking off half of the tray I say, "Actually, you kep those notes. And I'll tell you what. I'm going to give you this chocolate too. But not because I like you! It's because I know you need it as much as I do."

Jazz Ensemble

I knock on Robin's front door, trying to pick something up before she leaves for the competition. She lets me in, and Steven leads me in to the living room. I hear jazz coming out of the other room, across the outdoor cooridoor, something I can recognize, and I ask who is playing. Someone listens for a minute and says, "Well it must be Brianna on first trombone it it sounds like that..."
Sometime later I wander over to the room where the jazz is coming from, to find Devin, Matt, Julianne, Kari, Gracie, and Mr. Babcock/Steen lying on their backs on the ground in their pajamas, knees bent, playing their instruments. Someone tells me, "That isn't Devin, that's Devin the newest freshman, who took on second chair." I walk among them; Mr. Babcock/Steen is wearing briefs over bike shorts.

Park

I am sitting in a park just off Ambaum, it has been raining and I can see the ocean through the firs. Water drips off of the branches into a birdbath, catching the sun and my eye.
Nearby three boys, around twelve years old each, gather around a computer behind me, reseaching other parks to go to. They ask me what my favorite park was when I was their age, and I think. I tell them about Lincold park, Seahurst, and Discovery park, but obviously they already know about those. I think harder and can almost remember my very favorite park, but I cannot remember what made it so amazing, or where it was.

IB Tests

I sit in the corner of a cluttered school hallway with Matt, Andrew, and Anna. I start to make a commetn about how they must be relived, when Mr. Harrington sticks his head out of a doorway just behind me and says, "Alright, I can take one more for HL Art, and one for colonial Indonesia". As I hesitate in surprise, Anna jumps up for Art, and Andrew claims the Indonesia test. I laugh, only half joking when I tell Matt I wish I had spoken first, and then sadly realize that I know nothing about the subjects.

Fever 2

I am shopping in the department store on the HUB lawn. Coming out of a slight trance, I find myself pawing through racks of baby clothes and pull away, disgusted with myself. Then I change my mind, deciding I might find something cute for my cousins' kids. As I walk past one of the checkout counters, I hear a woman say, "Oh is it seven o' clock already? I'm sorry, I didn't realize you would be closing- have you already shut down the registers?"
The chashier responds that no, they haven't shut down the registers, they can still ring up purchases. This is good, I make my way forward with an armful of baby clothes, but then remember that I must have left my jacket in the bathroom. I throw the things down and rush to the bathroom, trying to get there before they close. I run to the last stall and there is my ratty black sweatshirt and sunglasses case, on the shelf above the toilet. I grab them and turn, about to run back out, but the sleeve of the sweatshirt dips in the toilet, and at that moment the automatic flush is activated. I pull on the sweatshirt as it is sucked into the toilet, hoping the arm with not rip off.

Fever 1

The new Harry Potter book came out with its movie simultaneously.
The movie is playing in my head and I am forced to watch, but in order to not ruin it completely, I am determined to read the book along with it.
I am also in the movie, or the world, I think, and all the characters slide around on vines draped between decaying green ruins. I find it difficult to keep up, both physically, and with my reading. I get frustrated when the events around me deviate from the events described in the book, and as I wail to Hermione about it, I almost get struck by a curse.
I lose my path through the vines cris-crossing up between the tall walls, and my vision begins to fail. I can no longer make out the words of the book and I have no idea what will happen next. I get the feeling that the words are rearranging themselves.

Waking Fever Dream

"They caught her off the coast of..." was all I got, but I understand that in this world women are born from the ocean, living and growing there happily. However, the beautiful ones are sought by men, and sometimes caught. They are taken to shore and trained, for the purpose of having no purpose.

Her destiny on land is to be beautiful, nothing else.

What is this

In my dream someone talked about vomitting and so I vomitted.

I tried to fix a chair that was coming loose from the ground but I couldn't until the front desk woke up for the morning. I pulled a wrench from my pocket and detached a borrowed wrench from it. Ariana stopped me.

Teacups and Marbles

Reunions have lost all novelty in my family. Every birthday, major, and minor holiday the clan collects in someone's hurriedly cleaned house to celebrate a bloodline that thins as the old men's hairlines grow sparse. The cousins sit in Auntie Loree's living room staring at a smattering of marbles on the floor. We grow bored and decide to play a game. To do this we shrink and take flight. Disneyland is fairly easy to locate because it has also shrunk and is currently located somewhere in the nap of my Auntie's rug. We scan the park and decide to head for the teacups. They are colorful and we strap ourselves in knowing very well that we may lose our appetites. It is a beautiful contraption, this teacup ride - no longer like the traditional one, it is four stories high and made of colorful balls. In addition to spinning around, one must hit the white balls and send them through a central funnel.

Eat the pill

Saturday sends discrete messages to the feet of swing dancers manque; my partner and I feel the fast beating of jive-love in our soles and souls even before we reach the door to Century Ballroom. We flounce through the entrance early only to discover that tonight is movie night at the swing club, the film is fittingly, Swing Kids. Zach and I never had a problem with disrupting proper behaviour with our swinging flare, and so we take mats off the ballroom wall with the intention of later kicking them aside to dance as "extras" in the movie. The ballroom, which now resembles a middle school gym, is becoming crowded with shapeless, gray, and sullen young people, they sit on their own mats as the room darkens for the film. Splayed out under and around the mats, our group grows quite tired and everyone falls asleep. The movie police do not appreciate this and wake us up with flashlights and angry grunts. Our rebellion began in the form of another treacherous nap. Because we had fallen asleep twice, Zach and I were kicked out. We performed a coquettish charleston until reaching the doorway to the hall where we subsequently burst out laughing with our lungs and with our feet. The movie police heard us and we ran into a hidden corner of the hallway by an abandoned room.

As we were hiding, a lithe, tanned boy came out from the main hallway. Startled and amused, we watched as he did a strange little dance. He threw a bottle to me and asked, "Will you rub this on me?" I thought this rather forward but I did it anyways. The lotion was unremarkable and produced white lather as any other skin product would, it even had the ubiquitous "microbeads" that acne treatments advertise - but the boy's back reformed itself under the foam into what could only be described as a full eight pack.

I woke up in an abandoned factory to see many children clustered around an old yearbook. The boy is among the crowd and shows me his photos - he looks considerably different - now neatly proportioned, Japanese, and pale, he bears no resemblance to the previous boy except for his smiling manner, which I note is a rarity amidst all the children. Akira is his name and he is the brightest and most genetically modified of all the children.

Children are produced here in the name of science, they do not have feelings but instead learn to imitate them with the help of the assistant director of education, an earnest but haunted looking man. He allows me to watch the children's imitation session. He puts a hand on Akira's shoulder and smiles. He draws the name of a feeling out of a hat. I suddenly understand that the assistant director of education is ethically opposed to the operations of the factory and has in the past offered Akira the chance to kill himself. Akira could not comprehend the magnitude of this act, ate the pill offered and threw it up in a retching cough.

Despair is the feeling, and the children do their best to communicate it. Much of it is overwrought. To a person used to the quiet melancholia of existential angst, it appears too disruptive for honest despairing, but the act is remarkable if not believable. Akira stands alone on top of a yellow ball holding a yellow glazed sun. He does not make any noise for despair; the assistant director talks to him, hands him a yellow pill, and walks away as the boy eats it. I wake up for the last time as he falls off his yellow orb.

Impressions

Is this a graduation party? Wow, it's in a pool. Everyone crowd onto this boat, it's time to go.

Enter: green, murky, shallow swamp. What's this, a wagon train of canoes? Where are we going? Oh look, a snake. How cute. No, don't get out to catch it. Oh well, at least the water's not that deep. Holy shit, get back in the boat! THAT one's humongous! Look!... wow ... look how it swims in a spiral... I'm pretty sure snakes that big don't grow well in water this shallow.

Ah, back at port. Hey, look, another group of people. Wait - that's - that's us! No, no, stay back. Look, they're going in the buiding. We can watch them from this overhang here. Damn, we're trapped in some sort of time flux. How do we get out? No, we can't ask our past selves! That'd completely screw up the space-time continuum! What are you thinking?



Wow, this place is really kind of dark. But look at all these fish and reptiles and such! No, sorry, I don't work here. Hey, Kevin, nice store. Boy, it sure is dank.



Maybe if... if I angle my way across the lawn here they won't notice I'm gone... no, they're telling me to get back in line. Dang, college campuses are too open. These people seem nice enough, but I can tell they've got something nasty planned for us.

What? I'm a finalist in some stupid talent competition? Fine. I don't know about the rest of you, but my goal is to not win. Oh? My turn? Well, I was already up here. I can't really turn back now.
What is a ball to a puppy?
Is this some sort of analogy test? No, wait. That's simple... a toy. That's right, I'm supposed to be trying to win. Now maybe if I kneel down amidst these small children and look introspective I can gain get some of the audience to like me. Let me study this book. Here.

Well, now that that's over with I can- wait, what? we have to go to kyra's musical? Dang it, I thought I was finally free to do what I wanted. What, we're ALL in it? Um, okay. Let's get in this capsule-shaped thing and drive there.

Okay, I guess I'll get in costume and pretend I know what I'm doing. I hope Mrs. L.H. isn't mad at me for not coming to any rehearsals. Kellen seems to have a decent idea of what's going on, I'll follow her. Whew. This is ridiculous, but it's not that bad.







I like this house. Some of you should stay outside.

It's got to be here, it absolutely has to be here... I'm sure I left it here in the other dimension... quick, the wind is picking up, we have to find it before the universe collapses. Try turning on and off all the lights and here, hold this. Shit. Electricity's gone out.
No, no, I know it was here... goddamnit!
I know this is where I left it!
I know, I know, it's time to go,
running out of time
but
I know it's here

Three Words:

nesting blue cassowaries.

Isn't It Time You Were Brainwashed?

After a graduation ceremony, all the people I know filter out of the large room and fade away into the verdant forest. I meet up with Andrew and Aaron, they look ridiculous in their caps and gowns. We clamber off the road, across a large log and onto a small mountain trail.

I am in the van with my family. We are in a hurry. I look out the window and see that much of the other people and cars are beginning to film over with a strange white substance, like they are covered in a chalky mold. When they are fully covered in the substance, they become zombies. Our van is becoming slower to respond, I can tell we are being converted, but we are nearly out of the city.
Pulling past a stoplight, we do a u-turn into a park. There is a grassy area surrounded by hills. Another family has sought refuge there and are playing frisbee, relieved. We ask if we can join them, they agree. As we begin to settle in for the night, though, the cold sets in, and we realize that we have no blankets, nor provisions. Nervously, we decide to split up. Mom journeys over the hills in search of food, while Dad and I head back to town to get blankets and sleeping bags.



Our control center is infiltrated. The lights go out. A small beam of sunlight from a crack in the ceiling illuminates the now-prolific dust motes. THe building is suddenly ancient and full of grace. As moss crawls over the stools and display panels, several phosphorescent beings flow in under the crack of the doors. Their glow illuminates the entire room. They have the appearance of land-dwelling jellyfish, without tentacles. It seems they can take any form they like. They circle the edge of the room, and as they come to rest, a small lightform presents itself in the center of the room, in the beam of sunlight. It stretches upwards, un the sunlight is refracted through it into each of the other strange beings. This signals the beginning of an intricate dance, which proves to be sometimes hesitantly mournful, sometimes blindingly violent, but always brimming with light and colors.
They finish. We are convinced they have bestowed special abilities upon us.

I encounter a blonde boy of about thirteen. He is exceedingly rude to me, but I let him continue on his way.
A little farther into the building, I literally run into the same blonde boy. He apologizes profusely. I realize that the strange beings have brought special powers to the world, but in balance - there is good, and evil - hence the two blonde boys. They appear to be the same, but have dramatically different personalities. I must bring the two of them to the room where it all began - the control room. However, it is by now an ancient ruin and getting to the center will be difficult.

Dragging the boys by their arms to my car, I am stopped by a Hispanic-looking man. He seems to think I will do the boys harm. I insist that I have magical powers and that I am on an important mission. I try to barge my way past him, but his compatriot appears. I grow Exceedingly frustrated. I try to demonstrate my powers on the car, but nothing happens. As they continue to smirk and block my way, I concentrate with all my might on my magic. I finally succeed in making the locks on the doors wriggle violently, but my aggressors do not notice. They drag the boys away from me and towards the city.
All is lost.

Again

This time my grandma comes over to our house for our birthday party (they are two days apart; we always celebrated together). She is still able to walk, although with some difficulty; the Parkinson's has begun to progress.
Again, I feel guilty for thinking she had been dead. Really, she has been alive this whole time and I haven't seen her since last April because I was too busy. This has made her very sad, and I feel so terrible, and horribly confused.

Not Again

My grandma, the one I thought had been dead since least April is sitting in front of me. She gives me important advice, which I cannot grasp. I keep shaking my head and saying, "I'm sorry, I thought you died. I'm so sorry, they told me you were dead." She assures me that she is alive and well, and she recovered from Parkinson's as well.

Meat

First, I am a part of corresponding scenes from each of the Jaws movies. It is the part where the hunky dude decides to show off for the cute girl and go swimming, even though she begs him not to because it's dangerous, but he does anyway and gets eaten.

Then Kathryn calls me up and wants to go get dinner at Southcenter. I ask what she wants to eat and she describes this elaborate plan to steal either a cow or raw meat from some company, and take it to the steakhouse and have them cook it for us.

Instead we go to a fabric store where I find a really cute fabric, but it has some matching mesh attached, which Kathryn's mom explains is for the architecture student's models.

Sandwich-Making Competition

Kathryn, Kellen, some other friends, and I leave Ms. L.H.'s classroom in Shorewood and walk down the hallway, heading over to someone's house for a graduation party. Along the way we pass a long line of students, probably Juniors, waiting to get their photos taken. As we pass by the office, I hear, "Jenny, come take photos with me!" It is my special friend, and he smiles and pleads with his eyes. I make the sorry face, but he grabs me by the hand and we run down the hallway towards the bathrooms, laughing. We stop and stare at each other, laughing. His pupils keep dilating, and finally I get a flash of reality and ask, "Are you high?" He laughs and says, "Why, are you?" and I say, "No, but are you?"

Eventually I make it past all the sorority girls crowding Steven's Way and into the auditorium. It is filled with long tables, all facing towards the front stage. At each table there are teams of five people sitting in a row, wearing matching polo shirts and visors. I find my team and sit down to the left of Roderick. We are in a sandwich making competition. Suddenly it has started and I am presented with bowls of tomato wedges. My job is to add the cottage cheese. We have five minutes to make as many sandwiches as possible to the judges' standards. For some reason, though, the first person in our line gets up and leaves, halting the process. I try to take over and salvage their work, but find that they have actually been doing a terrible job, and we are out of tomatoes. As a judge passes by, I wonder why anyone would even put cottage cheese on top of tomatoes anyway. I always eat my tomatoes off the top of the cottage cheese.
I think we are disqualified in the end because we didn't actually make sandwiches, and I am not disappointed because it was a silly competition anyway.

Seriously, what's with the bruised leg theme?

Here are some selected details from last night's dream:

People on Facebook can give out sexy points through this program named "Wisteria Lane" (I think that is from Desperate Housewives?). But the points showed up on your cell phone as a percentage, one percent per vote you get. When I discovered this feature I was 1% sexy.

At first we only noticed one three inch-long black spider on the wall. Mom captured it in the dust pan, but then when I went to kill it with the industrial spatula all of its friends started crawling in with it, and into all the other dust pans in the house. I just tried to whack it, but I couldn't tell if it was dead because there were about twenty crawling around. I don't think I ever managed to kill one, because they all made clink sounds when I hit them, as opposed to crunch.

I was working at Solstice and Evan kept coming in and out, making multiple drinks and leaving with them. Later Emily explained that he was making drinks for the examiners that were going to review his thesis, but making the drinks made him late, so he had to make more for his actual professor and classmates. She also said it probably wouldn't have worked, but he has such an extensive drink selection.


Kris had even more extensive bruises on his left leg than the ones I had in that other dream. Apparently they were also much more painful as well.
It took me a long time to figure out that he had decided not to cut his hair, but it was only growing out in the front, into these hideous pseudo-emo bangs.

Global Warming

I am on vacation with my family and the Kolpacks. We stop and park our van behind a cedar-shingled house and one-by-one go inside. I think it must be a gift shop, because there are lots of distracting object hanging down at eye-level, making me repeatedly forget what my goal is.
Eventually I make it back out to the van, and now my mother is impatient because we are going to be late for Christmas. I remember that the reason I went in was to retrieve her.
We make it home in time, but I get impatient waiting for Christmas to get there, and all I want to do in the meantime is take a nap, but the door to the spare bedroom will not close.
I end up in the basement, sitting at a circular table next to the piano. Kris and a girl that resembles Beth, Sarah, and Deb from Napoleon Dynamite all at once sit across from me. We are having a conversation about my plans to rent a house with Kris and some roommates. We are all giddy. He is saying, "I just don't know why we have to live there as separate couples."
"What do you mean." I say.
"Well why couldn't we exist as one relationship? Because I love you-" At this point he leans across the table to kiss me, but I'm starting to feel less giddy."And there's no reason for you to be jealous, and I love her too."
"So what then, Kris? All I need to do is love her-"
"No!" he cuts in, as if that is the silliest thing, but what he is suggesting is not. "You just have to be okay with us. Look!" And he kisses her shiny pink gloss-coated lips tenderly. She giggles.
My reaction is the thought "Do it again". I'm not sure if this is because I don't know yet if I feel jealous; or if I mean it as a threat. He's watching my face, I'm watching her shiny pink lips. "Do it again, Kris." This time it's sounding more like a threat, but I almost say it as a request, when he leans in and kisses her again anyway.
I feel it physically that time, as if I'm swallowing vomit and getting the wind knocked out of me at the same time. I jump up, crying out, "I can't be in love with a boy who is in love with someone else!" and run away.

Now I am in the Art building, room 301. I am collecting my things now that the quarter is over. There are a few grad students there, doing self portraits, and the model Robert, just taking a nap, not wearing clothes. Lucas from my class comes up to him and examines his face as he sleeps. Robert wakes up and asks if he needs anything. I feel bad and want to tell Lucas that now that the quarter is over he's not modeling for drawings anymore. Lucas says, "Man, I need to work on facial features." He shows Robert his point drawing, and it's very good, so I don't feel as bad.
Joel is over on the other side of the room, curled up on a couch reading. Remembering what just happened with Kris, I go over and say, "Joel, I wonder if maybe you can help me understand something." He says sure, and I begin repeating the conversation with Kris word for word. As I repeat it, I begin to realize that when I said, "I can't be in love with a boy who is in love with someone else", that has and always will be true for me, no matter how hard I try to convince myself otherwise. I tell Joel and he nods, but then I wonder what "can't be in love" means. I'm still wondering that, actually.

I stand on a beach with many of my friends, I think it is graduation. I am skipping stones. Then: some powerful figure ( possible my geology prof) has declared that there is no possible way to stop Global Warming. I watch that shoreline and think, "Well then if we can't stop it, why can't we at least stop it from dragging out so long and get it over with? We could all use a little adventure."
The air warms, the alpine glaciers melt, and the sea lazily rises. We all skip up to the parking lot where are two orange VW camper vans are waiting for us, ready to transform into houseboats. The water is rising more quickly now, and we all pile on top of the vans. Matt gets annoyed with Kellen or something and decides he doesn't want to be a part of our van, so he jumps off, but I grab him before he can float away, because we had a deal: I need him to tend to the sails.
We've got quite an assortment my friends on the boat. No one over twenty, all vaguely acquainted. When the water stops rising we float around, observing the new landscape. No one knows who exactly survived, if our families survived.
Some people who formerly lived on a cliff in Normandy park now have a volleyball net set up where people on jet skis joyfully play a game in the "yard". Even though there is a potential for tragedy, starvation, and suffering, everyone shares the air of giddiness, and we soon discover that oral sex is actually the best way of sustaining ourselves. No, really.

Party At Rebecca's!

I am asleep on Rebecca's couch, and when I wake up, everyone has arrived and is helping prepare for the party. Rebecca hurries about looking for the appropriate glasses, and Andreas and Roderick cut up limes. Andrea is in the corner where the dining table should be, but instead Rebecca's bed is there. Except it's not really a bed, it's a toilet. Andrea doesn't want to flush it or it will wake up the neighbors, so she asks me to flush it after she leaves. I say that I will, she leaves, and I go into the kitchen.
Then Laura/Derrick's roommate Lucas comes out of Trevor's room and goes, "Man, you guys, can't you clean up after yourselves! You know I have to have a clean kitchen!" and he starts washing the tea kettle. Rebecca is gone, and I try to defend the mess, saying we are having a party and he's invited, but he just shakes his head and picks up all of the half-full glasses from the counter and dumps them in the sink. I figure it's no big deal to have clean glasses, and then I remember about flushing the bed. I go over to it and make to flush it, but there's nothing in the bowl. Then I spot Andrea's shoes under the bed, and am a little disgusted that she didn't even put them in the toilet. I pick them up from the laces and fling them into the bed with a splash. Then examine the bed, looking for a way to flush it. Finally I think I pull the covers up and it makes a whoosh noise.

Sureallist Dreams With a Touch of Lemon

In front of me is a small lake (that would be small, for a lake, not a-small-lake.) Two figures are dancing on top of the blue blue water - a color I can only see in dreams. They weave and bob in cream robes, jumping high above the water against a backdrop of trees. To their right is a hollow in the water, it bubbles against gravity in an unturned mesa, the water there is milky. To their left is a patch of lemon yellow seaweed. The scene is exquisite and the figures keep moving in their lyric way until the woman leaves to go stand on a whale shaped log. It is a good 20 feet high, covered in the yellow seaweed, and there is only one way to reach her. One must go through an obstacle course upside down. Many men try to do this, but I am content to watch their efforts. I tread out onto the water, avoiding the bubbling water and the yellow patch of weeds, and take in the scene. The woman appears noble and calm, and I suddenly realize the men look exactly like monkeys swinging upside-down on the poles at the zoo. With this, I leave, because there is no more dance.

I am walking around the shore of the lake with my family. My mom decides to take the train around the lake instead of walking. In order to board the train, you must run along side of it and grab onto the railing then swing into the moving car. I find this very difficult. When I fail repeatedly, I begin to hear the Mario Brother's theme song. As if my efforts are just part of a pixelated game.

What went wrong

My parents come to pick me up from my apartment and take me somewhere. I am changing pants and look in the mirror and the backs of my legs are entirely covered in nasty bruises. I touch the one running down the back of my left thigh and it is incredibly painful.

Buffalo Exchange has a top floor, and I go up there with a friend. It turns out that she is friends with the guy working there, and he asks us to watch things while he goes pee. The second he leaves my friend starts talking about stealing things. I point out that everything has one of those tags that would set off the alarm. The only way to get the clothes out would be to toss them out of the window. Hey wait, that's almost a good idea.

Exorcism

The dream begins in a well-lit, nicely furnished living room. There are many people, and one girl is possessed. The rest decide she needs an exorcism, and the violence begins. At times I am her, at other times I am participating in the exorcism, at other times I just watch. The pin her down to the floor, one on each arm and leg, one sitting on her torso, she writhes, alternating between moans and screams. She escapes, rips apart the room's furnishings, they capture he again and try unsuccessfully to physically force out the demon from her body. She begins to tear things apart with her mind, ripping the roof off of the car parked outside, and starting a great wind.

I get tired of watching and move off into another part of the room. My brother has returned from the ranch, and we wanders about in a floor-length red-orange chiffon nightgown with a blank look on his face. This is the mos terrifying thing I have ever seen. He speaks in a monotonous voice of facts he has learned, showing no personal connection to... anything. He sits down with me and my parents at the dining room table, and begins to mark x's on a piece of notebook paper, describing that each x represents a dosage of a drug on a given day. There are many rows of them, up to seven in a row for each day of the week. Then he begins to explain what each drug is and why he takes them. I interrupt and ask about the chart, because I don't understand the system. He responds, "No, There's one for every time per day. And this one is for when I feel anxious, and this one is for when Jenny makes me feel inadequate, and this one..."
I'm so shocked that I get up and leave the table to go back to the exorcism. He was supposed to get better, not become a zombie. The people on the other side of the room haven't made much progress, so I go grocery shopping. I am looking at the cheeses when I run into Ariana. We exchange the typical greetings, Hi how are you, How have you been, etc., and Ariana responds that she was doing fine until the first part of the quarter, but then her upstairs neighbor began bringing home this guy, and they made so much noise having sex that Ariana couldn't concentrate on her studying anymore.

Black Onions

I can't stop my teeth from chattering as I sleep. I think it must be strange to do that, but I'm having a good time with it. (Actually, I'm not sure if this is a dream).

My mother comes and gets me to take me to Subway. I don't want to eat, but I finally see that all of the ingredients look delicious. There are onions, similar to red onions, but shiny and black. As I am about to order she turns to me and says sternly, "What did you do with the couch?"
I reply, "I don't have a couch! Do you think I could fit one in my apartment?"
She looks annoyed and says, "There was a couch outside Jenny, and you know it."
I am silent. I know nothing about any couch.
She takes me into a nearby Bartell's and I wander the aisles, wondering what I'm supposed to be buying. In one aisle, a man is looking at plastic cases of some sort. The packaging says, "Perfect aesthetic for artists!" Curious, I look closer and see that it is some sort of lunch box. No, it is a camera case, and it comes in all different shapes for different cameras. All are very attractive shiny white plastic with black detailing.

Back at home I find a note in my bed from the boy who was there. It is divided into three sections. The first is addressed to Kathryn, which is surprising. It says he's sorry for falling in love, but he's had to leave on a mission, and something about the Palestinians. The second part is addressed to the Palestinians. It seems to be some kind of directions, but I skip over it, eager to see what he wrote to me, because I think he was supposedly in love with me. It begins "Dear Jenny," and I concentrate very hard on every word after that so I will be sure to understand what it says.
"I... hope... haven't" I can't make any sense out of the individual words, because they don't seem to be in the right order. It says, "I hope that I haven't you caused to have -"
Even with the terrible grammar, I almost manage to make sense of it, but wake up before I see the rest of the sentence.

I Go Somewhere and Get A Thing

I receive a package in the mail, which is a printer with a thousand tiny cords and two articulated halves. I go on an excursion with Rick Kenney, at the end he smiles and signs my copy of "Evolution of the Flightless Birds"; a number of other books I have with me are scattered on the table. He makes a joke I laugh about. He is teasing me. I take the bus back.

There is a great height, perhaps a cliff, with a way down. It may be some sort of slide, but at any rate the height is surmountable.

Not-so-Secret Spy Mission

Once we realized the fleas were spying on us for them, we sat very quietly staring at the wall behind the futon, waiting for them to emerge. Then the wall blew up and we made our way through the tunnel behind it to the burrow. The six or so of us huddled in the dirt, peering out the window overlooking the majestic valley interrupted by their giant machines and evil operations. Our leader determined at last that the plates were coated, and that any food we prepared from home grown produce would also be contaminated. He marched us to the stairwell where he made their henchmen bring us clean plates. We divided up and locked ourselves in the two hall bathrooms. I ended up alone with the leader. We began to fill the bathtub so we could sleep safely. He insisted on doing everything facing the mirror.

We were interrupted by a request to report. The wall opened like french doors, the bathtub splitting in half. We entered a room filled with aquariums and women, scantily clad in tight leather and spandex, many wearing capes or masks. At the signal, all knelt down in front of the throne in the corner (with much difficulty in tight gold spandex miniskirts). I was standing behind it, so I never got to see the boss, but an old woman's voice asked the leader of my group to report. He replied, "I have done everything you suggested. I became friends with the curly brown-haired one."
"Good," the woman replied.
"...Things also progressed from there. I didn't expect to fall in love with her."

A Conveniently Long Three Mintues

I was about to go to San Francisco to get MARRIED.

I go to the Robinson Center, and notice Alex's food sitting on the table (because Alex's food is instantly recognizable in dreams). I take the grapefruit and eat it, asking if he is around, and someone tells me he will be back in a second. I don't have time to wait so I walk out the door with the grapefruit and run into Alex. He says, "We should talk... This is absurd!" I agree that "this" is absurd, but have to run off to my midterm, promising to talk as soon as I finish, before I leave for San Francisco.

While filling in the name bubbles on the answer sheet during the instructions for the final I remember that Alex is supposed to ruin my wedding, and also realize what is absurd is that I am 17 years old and getting married. I get up, under the semblance of going to the bathroom, and return to the Robinson Center. My fiance is there- some Asian EEPer packing his suitcase. Slightly confused about why I was going to get married in the first place, I tell him, "We're 17 years old! Let's not get married, we have to call off the wedding." When he gets all teary-eyed I grab his wrists and say, "We don't have to break up! Let's still be in love. We're so young, we should enjoy being young." He never really says anything, just looks sulky.

I leave him with his half-packed suitcase, figuring I should take advantage of my bathroom break and actually use the bathroom before going back to my midterm. I find the cellar where the bathroom is located, but I know I shouldn't bring the giant ziplock bag of Alex's pot I've been carrying around into the cellar with me because the supervisors check everyone before they go in there. I hide it under the window sill, but then suddenly realize bathroom breaks can only be three minutes long or they will fail your final. Instead of going to the bathroom, I decide I need to get coffee. I mean, I really NEEDED coffee, so I go into the Safeway next door and find Connor's checkstand. He understands my semi-urgency and pulls out the giant urn of drip and pours me a cup. Unfortunately, I can't drink it straight, and the only sweet thing around is caramel sauce. I pour some in- and realize I only have 23 second to get back to the final! The coffee isn't hot enough to dissolve the caramel, and I take two gulps, spilling all over myself as I run away

Endangered Species

In my living room, I am in the middle of a group of people dressed in academic clothing who file slowly forward, talking excitedly amongst themselves as they approach the front. The thing we are waiting to see, I find out, is some newly discovered, extremely rare creature. As I get to the front my neighbor tells me it is actually the last in existence, and we will be the only generation to have seen and documented it. It will probably die without its natural habitat.

I am confused at first when I do not see an animal in front of me. I then realize the focus of the academics' attention is the boy with a shaggy haircut and stooped posture. I walk forward and take his hand, looking him in the eye and saying, "It's nice to meet you." He replies quitely, "It's nice to meet you too." He looks completely normal, and I am not at all convinced that this person is not human. I examine his features closely, looking to see how he is different from us. His extremely alert expression and the sense of fear I get from his sudden eye movements give it away. He has been trained to interact in civilized company, but his mind is clearly designed for a more wild setting. I feel sad that he will die here.

Things Are A Little Different Now

I am getting a ride to school from my parents because I am late to dance. As we drive up Roosevelt I need to hop out, and they are looking for a place to eat. There is a large beige building on the corner with tiny windows very high up- I can hear the cooks laughing and having a good time, but why are they so high up? Inside it is plastic and themed.

I go to school, looking for some place to eat lunch. I walk east past about 5 tiny shops. I get around the corner and run into Julia and Andrea- we walk back looking for a good restaurant. My dad is there and orders pizza from one of the shops. I try to get some, but they are in the process of transitioning to a Greek restaurant. I try to order some hummus, but they haven't transitioned far enough into the Greeks theme to be able to serve that. There are only peach-filled cinnamon rolls.

In the car driving past Shorewood with Jen the 5.0 and Matt, I am in back seat and make fun of Matt, referencing the good ol' times. Jen says she knows, she has pictures too.

We visit Roderick in his new dorm. Everything he brought with him is colored bright red-orange.

We all go out to dinner, and Roderick brings along his new girlfriend, who looks and acts like a 10 year-old. Rod seems to think it's cute, and calls her sweetie pie and makes kissy faces as he straps her into a large high chair.

My bike is in the shop right now

I have picked up my bike, newly repaired, near the north end of campus and plan on riding it back to Parrington lawn, where I live with my mother. I don't have a helmet, and wonder if I should really ride it because something is bound to go wrong if I'm feeling paranoid. I decide it's time to take a chance, so I get on and push off. Somehow I end up immediately turning down a road that is marked "Access to Authorized Vehicles Only". I decide now is a good time to test my brakes, so I do, and but I'm not able to slow down much. I almost continue down the forbidden road, but decide to get off. It's a good thing I did, because when I look I see that the brakes haven't really been fixed. I knowledgable voice echoes in my head about proper braking, and I feel guilty that I may have ruined the brakes. But no one ever told me!

I walk it home to the lawn and go in to work. The rest of this dream is really the most stressful dream about work I've had yet, and it mainly consists of me repeatedly making bad shots and almost poisoning customers for about a half an hour until I wake up.

A Day

I am in a hurry to go somewhere, sitting on the ground, Kathryn urges me to hurry and I look for my shoes. I grab the nearest ones, which are Alex's smelly Sambas, and lace them as tight as they will go. I figure he won't mind, and then he walks in looking for his shoes. I yell that I have to borrow them and run off before he can object.

I am on my way to class behind Smith, and I spot Kris ahead locking up his bike. I quicken my pace to get a sort of running start into hug. My huge shoes flop as I run, making an echoing noise on the pavement, which catches Kris' attention. He turns around and laughs at me. The sun is very bright.

I am visiting Mt. Rainier's IB science class in Communications where I usually have French. I remember feeling disappointed that my version of the same class was taught by a professor who didn't care and never gave us interesting labs.

My Sandwiches Are Off-Limits, Even to George Clooney

Damn.

George Clooney, the peanut butter and jelly sandwich bandit, strikes again. Curse his celebrity, otherwise, I would call the cops. I want my sandwich back.

Sah's Curse

So this dream had to do with an urban legend of some kind. In the far end of an alley, there was this guy named Sah, and he was cursed. A group of caucasian kids with silver honda accord, they piled in kind of drunk to go see what his shit was about. They were all guys with the exception of a blonde girl with greenish blue eyes. No one was with the blonde, she was just friends with all of them, and she was also kind of a tough chick anyway.

Sah's thing was that he was cursed--he couldn't leave his red chain basement until some conditions were fulfilled--but the kids didn't know what they were past going in and killing Sah or somehow defeating him. If you went into the red chain basement, you were guaranteed for death, too, but the kids (and when I say kids, I mean like college-age) didn't figure this out until the brunet guy went in and got his ass kicked. When he came out, he was all beat up, and Sah had cut off a hand or something like that. Anyway, he shriveled up and died in the darker haired guy's arms, so he (his name I caught, it was like Joe or something) he goes in to fight with Sah.

Sah is like this huge muscle guy, and the reason he's cursed is because this sort of saint type girl figured out that he was a psycho sadist type. So she worked it so he was trapped in the red chain basement until he overcame his desire to mutilate people. Joe nailed him in the face with something metal, so half of it puffed up and got real swollen red looking. Then the dream camera thing switched to outside, where the blonde was thinking all sorts of worried thoughts. She goes in, and pulls out Joe really quickly. Sah decides to lock himself behind a door to make it easier on the blonde chick (or harder.)

But since both Joe and the blonde have been inside the red chain basement, they are marked for death unless Sah is killed/defeated before the end of the night. The blonde figures she'll just sleep until the next night and that'll save them both, but the last remaining friend of hers says that those are her rules, not Sah's, and they might not apply. Blonde chick decides not to take a chance. She goes into the red chain basement to face Sah.

He's still behind the door. Blonde chick has to figure out how to kill him--she can't do it when he's behind that door. She pulls up the metal bar locking it from the outside, and he rushes through to choke her, and she kicks him. Obviously it's not too effective.

The blonde chick, though, begins to sparkle somehow, and Sah realizes that she's a good person even if she is a bit bitchy. He says that she's very beautiful and he could learn to be a good person from her if she would let him follow her out of the basement and forever--I suppose this is the equivalent of a marriage proposal. The blonde is just furious at him though, and starts crying and yelling about how he killed her two friends (I'm not sure if this means that Joe died or not).

Sah gets angry, re-realizes his psycho sadist side and punches her in the eye socket. That part of her skull crunches inward and pops off, spraying this gray and green stuff all over Sah's face. She falls to the ground, obviously dead, with one half of her face gone. Her brains and other head-inside-things act as an acid on Sah's face and burn off the skin there. He touches his raw, even uglier face and says, "It's so soft." He realizes that he lost his chance at breaking the saint girl's curse, and now it's less likely that he'll get another.

What the Hell Is Going On?

My alarm has gone off.

I am awoken by my mother and sister returning to the house. I am alarmed, because if they are back, it means I have missed the IB test, which is at one o'clock. I glance at the clock. It says 5:07.
My watch says 2:38.
Panicked, I run out into the family room in my pajamas. The wall clock says 11:43.
My watch now says 7:24.
My father sits at the computer playing Everquest.
"Dad, what time is it?"
He tells me it is 11:43, like the clock says. I sigh in relief, but do not bother to reset all the clocks that are wrong. I know they will simply get off as soon as I turn around.
On the coffee table are mounds of food that look absolutely delicious. My mother and sister are sitting on the sofa, stuffing their faces. They have returned exhausted and famished.
The After Eight Mints and the bean dip are especially tempting, but I am not allowed to have any, as my IB test is in ten minutes. I am sorely disappointed. They will eat all this food without me.
"That guy was so wasted," my mother proclaims around a mouthful of chocolate. "Wasted."
"He always is."

I wake up, my alarm going off again. I try to roll out of bed to shut it off. I open my eyes to find that my floor has become cold and grey, and it is covered in maps of France and Europe. I am trying to put my feet on the floor, but something is obstructing me. Opening my eyes further, I realize that gravity is pulling me from the right. Instead of facing the center of my room, I am, in fact, facing the wall, with my feet up against it. No wonder I couldn't get out of bed.

Never before has sleep been that disorienting.

Whatever

I am walking down a street in a more posh version of Fremont, when we suddenly feel the approach of a wave of excitement and cheers, coming from around the corner. It reaches us and suddenly we are caught up in the massive crowd as a group of cyclists in a race fly past. Ariana is there, yelling in a very appropriate manner for Kris, and Kris' mother Julie is halfway between me and Ariana, about ten feet away, also yelling. I stand on my tiptoes, craning my neck to see the contestants, about to cheer with everyone else, but I decide against it at the last second, as I haven't actually seen Kris. In any case the finish line is just past where Ariana now stands with Alex, out of my range of view. The race has already ended, and I hear Julie tell Ariana that the final run is about to start from that point; Kris should be in front. A gun goes off and Alex, Ariana, and Julie all see Kris before I do, but the instant I catch of him, his hair flying back, we all gasp. He forgot to put his helmet back on.
I am first to yell "Kris stop!", but is comes out as a murmur. His mother's attempt is louder, and I join her. Finally he realizes he forgot his helmet and brakes in shock. My heart nearly stops, as he is in the center of a pack, but the other riders miraculously avoid him (I suspect some ride through him, like ghosts). He topples onto the sidewalk and walks over to Ariana and Alex, unharmed as soon as the last rider has passed. Julie joins them and I remain where I am, wondering how to approach the situation.
Then I feel a heavy arm placed comfortingly around my shoulders, steering me towards the small group. I look up to see Kris' dad, and he silently tells me I don't have to worry about causing tension, just to talk to Kris.
I feel less anxious, but when we get to the group and Kris turns around, what comes out of my mouth is, "I thought you shaved your head. I saw you on your bike the other day, and you had a hat on but it really looked like you had shaved your head. I guess I was wrong." And he says, "Yeah," and turns away, following the rest of the group as they leave.

Adventure Is Not Always So Amusing

I - and a few others in my adventurous party - slowly approach a desert city, in awe of the towering walls and open khaki-colored houses on top.

In a place some people might call a church, a monstrous wasp or mantis is suspended bottom-down by its thorax. The mottled brown exoskeleton blends with the intricately carved teak walls and the marbled flooring. The insect's head, far above, is invisible in the dimly flickering gas lamplight.
The shape of the abdomen causes condensing water to run to the point, where a large piece of papyrus has been spread underneath. Suspended like a pendulum, the insect wriggles and sways, forming intricate designs on the paper depicting each of four parts of our quest that will lead us to the ultimate treasure. The swirls and scribbles dissipate quickly, so we hastily memorize the next step. We hurry out of the room, afraid that we might soon become a meal.


In a strange house, everything is in shades of blue and grey. I glance out the window - we are perched on top of a hill - the town below glows with the aura of what must be death. I come to the conclusion that I am in an Alfred Hitchcock movie, and that the killer will soon be arriving here. Waiting, I lounge about in the kitchen as passing cars illuminate the refrigerator in locomotive bars of light.
A young, unpreposessing man steps from the bedroom closet. Genially, he asks me if I want some coffee, I decline, but he makes me some anyway, then pours some for himself.
"You don't have to kill all these people," I say. "It's just a movie."
He raises his eyebrows and grimaces into his coffee cup. "Obviously you know very little."

McSweeney's Dull Dreams

http://www.mcsweeneys.net/links/lists/4JessyRandallandDanielM.Shapiro.html

That's Nonsense

While sleeping, in the middle of the night my companion leaves and is replaced with a man who snores and groggily calls me "baby".

I go to visit my parents in Burien. At midnight they go to bed and I get something to eat in the kitchen. Alex knocks on the door and enters as if I should have been expecting him and begins to tell me about an interview he just finished. Nothing he says makes sense, but I gather something is wrong, and I interrupt him to say, "I'm sorry, I have to give you a hug". He then says, "And I've decided I don't want to be an English major anymore!" and walks into the living room, rambling again. I follow him as he takes off his suit jacket and sits down on the couch. Staring at his shoulder I say, "I don't understand, Alex! What are you going to do then?" But he just says it doesn't matter, he just can't stand writing anymore. I worry that something terrible must have happened to make him feel that way, and I touch his shoulder to try and get his attention, but he doesn't notice, too absorbed in not making sense.

In Which We Have A Grand Time

We are all in Aaron's Ford Explorer: Sally, Holly, Anna, Kellen, Andrew, Aaron, Courtney and myself. It is early morning, they are all eager to be off. I race back from buying a granola bar from a vending machine underneath a stand of trees and hop into the moving car.

We arrive at a store. The entryway is a little dumpy, dusty, and crammed with useless stuff. Everything is a faded grey-brown. Moving into the next room, the treelike architecture remains, but the rooms are white and very spacious. The ambient lighting seems to emanate from the floor. There are display stands of shoes, and out on the balcony there are designer suits an strings of beads. It seems that there is some sort of high-class function going on, like an art show but with clothing. A large man in a purple suit sips his martini while his buxom blonde companion laughs at a private joke.

We are done shopping, people seem to have gotten what they need. We pile back into the car, and Courtney drives us off into the woods. I sit behind the driver's seat, and on a tray table in front of me there is a touchpad, like on a laptop. Courtney jokingly lets go of the wheel, and I find that by pretending there is a small steering wheel flat on the touchpad, I can control the car with my pointer fingers. I push forward, and the car lurches onto the road. Everyone seems to think Courtney is still driving, so she puts her hands in the air. Everyone screams delightedly as I clumsily speed us down a dirt road through trees.

More Caves and Corners

I am on an adventure at some sort of specialized art school. Narrowly escaping the vampires, I skid to a halt on the metal grating covering the floor and turn the corner into a damp cave that has been turned into an admission advisor's office. The two women speaking there ignore me, and I sneak over a pile of pillows and hang on the edge of the cave, trying to prepare myself for the plunge into the icy cold river rushing by below me. A small black beetle crawls over my shoe as I swing to and fro from one arm.

This one actually makes sense.

I am visiting Mudd again - it seems they are having a luncheon for the students who have decided to go there. I leave my dad sitting in our old red Nissan (we got rid of it about a year ago) - I don't really want to be seen with him, or the truck. I walk unsteadily down the center of campus, determined to walk only on the grass because the sound of my heels on the walkway makes too much noise. I just want to slip in unannounced.

They have removed the koi pond and planted grass in the small courtyard. I grab a plate of potato salad and black olives and sit at one of the wooden picnic tables, where the physics prof is sitting. As I begin to make small conversation, I see Andrew talking to some other kids in the buffet line. "I'm not actually going here," I hear him say, "that's why I'm wearing this shirt." His shirt is blue, plaid and flannel, like a lumberjack's. Underneath he is wearing a tuxedo. His hair looks jet black in the sunlight. I look down and realize I am wearing a sun dress, much like the other girls at the luncheon.

Andrew joins me at the picnic table and again explains the importance of his blue shirt. I smile and start to talk to him, but he cuts me off and explains urgently to the prof that he is not actually going to Mudd. Once he has made his point clear, he begins talking at me. Not to me, because he doesn't seem to want a response. I wonder why he can't bear to have any silence in our one-sided conversation. It reminds me, strikingly, of the night I couldn't stop talking as we danced. It's like we have to get everything out before I have to leave.

Bald Men and Bikinis Do Not Mix

Sunnydale now sits in a large Californian valley, with grass spanning the distance to the hills behind it, and a small sort of hicktown/trailer park across the street. I run down the hill in the loping manner that one must on inclines and make my way towards the school.
I am in a panic. I have recently received word that one of my family members is in the Emergency Room, and I am trying to locate the rest of my family so that we can go to the hospital. Running pas the windows, I see my sister in her old Nationals outfit, dancing for a large crowd. I round the building and enter, passing through a dim, grimy linoleum corridor to one of the classrooms. I find my mother, applauding while my sister takes her bow. I tell her that we have to leave, it's urgent, Dad's in the hospital, but she says, no, we can wait till Kyra's finished. It'll take about twenty minutes.

Resigned to waiting, I leave the classroom to explore the school grounds. Wandering through the dim hallway, I find myself in a courtyard on the other side of the school. It is cloudy now, and the gray light turns everything, except the towering evergreens, a similar shade. There are scores of people here, and the air is filled with smoke and strange smells. I conclude that this must be the Addicts Anonymous meeting. Feeling disgusted, I try to hurry through the corwded picnic tables, but I am fascinated by these lowlifes. I wonder aloud, "why would you do something like this to yourself?"
A homeless woman and a dirty-looking man catch me by the elbow and they begin to explain their reasoning. They motion forward a thirty-something bald rocker (much like Chris Daughtry, or the guy who recommended Blades of Glory to us at the Metro) He pulls from his jacket something made of clear blue plastic - it looks like a combination between a flashight and a stick of deodorant. Holding it up to his face, he pushes a small black button on the side. Frightened that he is about to burn his face off, I try to knock the thing out of his hand. Before I can get to him, though, writhing threads of yellow plastic emerge and make contact with the stubbly chin. It seems he is addicted to the feel of synthetic tubes on his skin. I begin to understand.

Tired of waiting for my sister, Jenny and I journey forth into the valley on a quest. We are trying to locate something, a treasure, perhaps, or a famous artifact like the Ark of the Covenant or something. We run along the one road in the valley, surveying the area for anything that looks like it might provide a clue. As we reach the top of a hill above Sunnydale, we spy to large rocks standing alone amid the brown grass. We clamber up towards them. Reading the far side, they tell us something important, they tell us where to go. My vision blurs slightly and they mesh together to form an image or text. Something magical occurrs, and we know the next step in our quest.

My father drives a moped while I sit behind. His blue helmet matches the dated bike, and I'm sure we look quite the pair as we weave through traffic in a country suburb. We are looking for a place that is likely to give us our next clue to the treasure. We pass all types of ruins and run-down places. I see the Parthenon, and other Greek constructions. The roof has caved in on the dinosaur museum, and ivy has twined artfully up a fake T-rex's legs. A large warehouse has been turned into some sort of store. The garage door is open, and something about the upturned boat in the driveway seems familiar. Written on the side are the words "the rocks in the valley," jarring my memory.
"Dad! There it is!"
"What? Where?"
"There! That boat said, 'the rocks in the valley,' that's got to be it!"
Typical of my father he saw nothing, but he believes me and we shoot off onto a side street to turn around. It is getting dark, but I recognize where we are. An elementary school is nearby. Two boys on bikes obstruct our way, and I curse because for some reason we are in a hurry.
Entering the main stream of traffic again, night has fallen and it is rush hour. By the time we get back to the boat, it has been dragged inside and the shop has closed. We park the moped in the dirt by the shop and leave our helmets on the handlebars. We enter the shop occupying the rest of the warehouse.
The room is warmly lit by many lamps, and is some sort of tourist trap, selling useless keychains and with wall-to-wall racks of women's bathing suits.
"Why is this all they sell here?"
"Because that's all we wear."
A balding man similar to the first, except older and slighter, pushes his way through the bead curtain at the back of the shop. He is barely covered by a spangled turquoise string bikini. His daughter, behind him, is slightly more modest in a red halter top and boy shorts. The man I find slightly lecherous, but the daughter seems very normal to me. I barely manage to keep my father from buying a bikini for himself from the charming young lady at the counter. I tell him that we are here on an expedition, and not a shopping one. We manage to leave the shop with just a keychain as a souvenir of Bikinitown.

The Cold

Word spreads quickly through the crowd that there is going to be a fire tonight. Everyone in the parking lot speaks in hushed whispers, shivering in the cold antarctic night and wondering whether they should obey the hotel staff's instructions and go back to their rooms until it is time to evacuate. I decide I will go back to my room and pack up my things, and put on some warmer clothes so I won't freeze to death after the evacuation.
Up on the tenth floor I sit on the edge of the bed next to my suitcase, waiting for the phone call. Impatiently, I get up and look out the window to the parking lot and swimming pools below. I can just make out small specks of light from the lanterns of the nervous guests who refused to go back to their rooms.
I hear movement at the door- that must be him- the arsonist. I dash over and fling the door open, but he is gone; I just catch the last echoes of his laugh. I will beat him out of the hotel. My little sister and I take after him, alternating between flying and skating down the spiral ramps and staircases. The hotel has an old feel, though it has been recently renovated, reminiscent of the hotel from The Shining. The arsonist has taken the elevator, which is a stupid thing when there is about to be a fire. As we make our way to the ground floor we seem to switch roles several times from pursuing and being pursued- all I know is the rush of fear and excitement that means I will win.

In the parking lot I squint through the darkness, trying to discern my group of friends from the rest of the crowd. I determine I've got the right group, and out my arms around their shoulders, and turn my head back to the building- I can, now that I'm safe. Every window is dark, with the curtains open, and no sign of flame. I am surprised that everyone actually remembered the fire drill instructions from elementary school, forming a line and the last person out turning off the light. Still gazing at the building I say, "It's good that everyone made it out alright." I can hardly hear my own voice over the whistling wind.

At home, I prepare to go to an outdoor, middle-of-the-night dance. Our house feels huge and empty, and while it is well-lit, the darkness and cold press in. My mom is especially excited for me, running around with the camera like it's prom. She wants me to look nice, but I just want to be warm. I can't seem to find enough clothes, because I left most of them at home, not expecting to go to some crazy dance. I gather it will involve some freeform skiing and dancing in a snow-covered water park-type setting, and I remind my mother, "You know I haven't skied in years. How am I suppposed to stand upright, let alone spin around in circles with someone while sliding downhill?" She says, "Prepare for lots of bruises!" My friends wait at the door, all ready to go. At the last minute I decide I can't wear a windbreaker to a formal dance, and my shoes don't match my outfit.

I stand just below that exit ramp coming off of the West Seattle Brigde onto 99 that curves so sharply that you always end up squished next to the person next to you on the 120 to downtown. Part of it has disconnected, so that the ramp does not meet the freeway. Kris is up there on his bicycle, perched on the edge of the freeway, doing some odd maneuvers as a part of race. I wonder why he would do something like that to his bike. In a few seconds he is done and comes down to the basement of my house, located just under the ramp. We gather in the laundry room with Beth and Kellen. My mom bustles around doing laundry, she immediately gets them all engaged reading old Balderdash responses. Kris also shows them his latest project: his front wheel that he has begun threading with fine silver wire. It looks more like a sculpture, with an uneven web that bends the flimsy gold-foiled frame.
Determined to finally give Kris back his shirt, I tap him on the shoulder, but alas, I don't have the shirt with me. I do, however, tell him that I have something else from my dad that he might be interested in. I squeeze past my mom to get to a giant spool on the table and pull off a few pieces of the thick wire. I show Kris and his face lights up. "Copper wire!" he exclaims, as if it was just the breakthrough he needed to make the piece complete.
We all squeeze on to the piano bench and play fragments of pieces we remember from our childhood lessons.

Characters Having Recently Appeared In Something Else

I dash up the dirt path, there is someone I have to warn.

I see him! The dog-boy, a dirty, wild child of about six stands in the middle of the path up ahead. I slow my pace, but as I approach the boy backs away. All the while, I try to make him understand that he is in great danger, but he is not familiar with spoken language. When I get too close, he belligerently throws dog poop at me. I cringe, but thankfully his aim is quite poor. As I raise my head again, I see him dash off on a side path. I follow him, entering a winding maze of ground cover. I pick my way after him. His filthy little backside disappears into the trees at the bottom of the slope, and a crack of lightning announces the arrival of the person I was trying to warn him about.
It is Tommy Lee Jones. "Where is the boy?" he booms, glaring at me from the top of the hill. I shake my head. He starts down the path after me. I panic and dive down the hill, and reaching the bottom, I pull out my lighter and hold it to a leaf of the ground cover. The plant being very flammable, or soaked in gasoline, the entire clearing goes up in flame. I don't know if Tommy Lee Jones escapes a firey doom, but the dog-boy is safe for now.

Why Am I Not Famous Already?

Garrison Keillor and I trek across a vast praire towards distant mountains. Ominous black clouds crackle overhead. We make it to the cave just as the rain begins.

The cave has a fake, romanticized feel to it, with Disneyland animatronics, dramatic lighting and plastic jewels scattered everywhere. I follow Garrison Keillor through the crowd. At the back of a cave, we clamber up over a ledge and enter a brightly lit, strangely decorated room. We have succeeded in reaching the competition.

Apparently my sister has won the American Idol competition. For her last performance, she has invited Mr. Keillor, myself, and an unknown boy (possibly a friend of mine) to join her onstage. The American Idol representatives greet us as we climb out of the cave and lead us to a crowded dressing room, which will also serve as our hotel room. We are left to get ready.

I take the bathroom to get dressed, since I am the only girl, and when I step out the stage manager is there, telling us it's almost time. Looking at all my other clothing options laid out on the bed, I realize I don't really want to be wearing this. I frantically try to decide between the purple shirt or the green hoody, while Garrison Keillor stands impatiently at the door.

Anna's dad had a huge-ass SUV, and we went on a trip to a lake that was supposed to be a protected wildlife habitat.
Then I went back to my apartment and fell asleep and I think they used the SUV to tow my apartment somewhere else (just my half of the basement).

That wasn't supposed to happen

Kathryn and I are working at Solstice, and we are keeping the cafe open late for a show of some sort. I feel alright about this until we try to use the cash register and the "3", "00", and "cash" keys are broken off. In a panic, I try to get the espresso machine mechanic to come back and fix it, but he has already left. When I turn back, someone has started a list of everything sold and convinces me it will be alright. Matt, A-Strike, Jacob, Eva, and some other band members approach, and I greet them warmly. Later, they are over talking to Devin, who I think is also helping with the event, and I overhear A-Strike say, "Yeah, and I keep getting these e-mails from the dream blog- we all have, since our names were first mentioned it put us on its e-mail list and won't stop sending us updates!"
I can feel my cheeks burning.I say, "No... not all of you?"
A-Strike says, "Yeah, we're all on the list now!"
Shit! I just had a dream about making out with Matt. I turn to him, and he looks at me for a second before turning away in embarrassment. I ask, "Matt, can we talk outside for a minute?" He nods, and we step out into the alley. I say, "I'm really sorry, Matt, that shouldn't have been something you had to read."
He says, "No! Look, it's okay, don't worry about it Jenny!" much in the way Kris said I shouldn't worry about being a jerk.
I continue, "I just think, well, it wouldn't even have been weird if Andrew hadn't mentioned it and-"
"Exactly!" He cuts in enthusiastically, and says, "Good, I'm glad we're clear on that!" and he hugs me, and we both get a little too intimate.

I am on an a hike with a group of classmates, including my secret lover, and a teacher. We reach vantage point on a steep cliff, overlooking the sun setting on the ocean. Everyone begins to move down the steep path to the beach, and I quickly try to find a way to indicate to my lover that we should stay behind. Just as the last student rounds the bend, I turn around, and almost stumble over a body lying face down on the ground. I gasp in shock and then decide the man is probably taking a nap. I shake his shoulder and say loudly, "SIR, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" several times, before backing off and realizing I probably shouldn't touch the body. I do spot a wallet nearby and pick it up. I pull out photos of a man, who I presume is the body, although I can't see his face. The name on the credit card says "Wilder". I yell to my brother, who appears at my side. "Nick! Do you recognize the man in this picture? You had Mr. Wilder for English in high school, didn't you? Is this him?"
Nick nods.

I find myself suddenly underwater, unsure of which way is up. There is too much pressure and I need to get to the surface. I do i somersault, looking for the sun, but there are odd glints of light in the dark water in every direction. Suddenly there is a powerful rushing, something shooting up beneath me from great depths. A giant iron capsule nearly slams into me as it rushes to the surface.
I get a flash of the future: the scariest mutant sharks I can imagine are thrashing around in the water around me, having been released from the capsule when the chain anchoring their isolation chamber to the floor of the ocean snapped-
I am underwater still but there is no sign of the capsule or the sharks. This time I notice a chain leading down into the depths and I understand it leads from the capsule at the bottom to a buoy on the surface. I immediately start swimming to to the surface, knowing I have to get away before-
The capsule explodes from the water near me and shoots into the sky. I frantically swim towards the same cliffs I stood on before with the body of Mr. Wilder, hoping I can get away before the capsule falls from the sky and the sharks are released.
Now I am with someone, a friend, possibly my lover from before. We are still about a hundred yards from the base of the cliff, but we can see the bottom is not more than twenty feet away. We hear yelling from the cliff- we are saved!
But then we get a better look- the figures line up, each one carrying a large stone over his head. One by one they throw the stones, and all I can do it sit there and think, "Are they really throwing stones at us?" until one nearly hits me over the head and I have to dive underwater.

I examine several packages of macaroni from the cupboard, reading the instructions and trying to decide which one to prepare. They all have strange complex instructions, though, such as, "At 4900 feet, boil 10 quarts water for 30 seconds, then remove half, saving one cup for later use. Add half package of macaroni..."

I walk across campus, soaking wet, giving a tour to the same group that was at Solstice earlier, now also including Anna, Kellen, and Alex. We arrive at Red Square... but it is white. I assume it is ice- they must have removed red square, installed a lake, and it froze over. Kathryn suggests, "Let's go swimming!" Everyone agrees, the weather is as nice as can be (cloudy), and starts removing their shoes.
I am the first one ready, running backwards as fast as I can with my elbows out behind me to break through the ice. Alex and Kathryn are close behind. When I reach the "shoreline" and throw myself backwards, however, I do not crash through ice. I get tangled up in the white butcher paper that is actually covering the lake, and my feet get stuck, in what I fear is mud.
"Stop!" I yell, "You're going to get covered in mud!" Alex is already in, though, and he explains that the bottom is paved, with stairs leading down from the edges.
A campus police officer blows a whistle and walks up to us across the butcher paper surface of the lake, explaining to me as I sit tangled in the soggy paper that Alex is right: red square is actually a paved pool, but it is closed for the winter. We thank her and crawl out of the pool, moving into the lobby of a small art gallery to wring ourselves out.