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.

Imagination

A fraternity was giving away free pizza on the 15th. I had already had a slice of cheese, so I went back for a second: cinnamon pecan.

I found Kris waiting at a bus stop, and he asked me to explain things, so I started talking. The 74 came and stopped; I wondered if he was going to get on. Then I figured he must have been waiting for the 71, 72, or 73, but he was standing on the wrong side of the street. Finally we got on the 74 and it turned around and took us over the University Bridge.

Then we were walking along a sort of cement tunnel on the east edge of Lake Union. It was very narrow, so Kris walked in front of me. The right side was open to the lake, which was actually just a vast blue expanse of water, and part of the path was submerged, so that every step I took with my right foot made a gentle splash. I talked the whole way trying to sort out a confusing series of events, and Kris just kept walking until we suddenly reached a graffitied wall. He stopped to suddenly that I nearly stepped off the path into the water, but when I looked down the water churned viciously, and it was clear enough that I could tell there was no bottom.

In the Burien Fred Meyer, my mom and I shop for food for our vacation. There are stacks of chocolate cake, and we try to pick out the best one for my dad's birthday.

I stand with Rebecca and Evan in a neutrally carpeted lobby, waiting for the schedule for the undergraduate research symposium to be posted. Rebecca and Evan move to the other side to see if a group of Acads know where to go, and meanwhile, a suited man with a nametag and radio comes up to me and ushers me through the nearest set of double doors and into a small auditorium, insisting that there is no late seating.
Annoyed that I might be missing other good presentations I sit on the left side, near the front. The lights dim and a curly-haired girl stands at a podium on the right side of the stage as a screen lowers behind her. The film starts, and all I know from the program is that her research had to do with psychological/emotional reactions to music. For about two minutes it plays a rapid series of film clips accompanied by music. I don't remember what they contained, but I remember mainly blue, some green and white, and the charge I felt from the music. I think I at one point I was laughing and crying for a reason I couldn't fathom. The film ends and the girl says, "Thank you". Everyone waits for her to say more about her results and conclusion, and finally the symposium official comes up and whispers to her, but she shakes her head and leaves the stage.

There is a pause while the next student sets up, and I turn around and see Evan and Rebecca sitting behind me. I ask if they felt the same thing, but lights start to dim. The next presentation is by a friendly Indian guy, on "Imagination". His film starts with a scene in a cobblestone alleyway with high stone walls on either side, and it quickly envelops me.
I am a young boy, sent by his guardians to start at a school on this street. I walk up to the gate of the correct address and pause. I know this is a test when I look to my right down the alley, and past a certain archway the scene shimmers and changes to a different street. I'm not scared, and I look through the gate and ring the bell. The scene past the gate shimmers and changes, and a wizard-like man appears about two feet in front of me. We stare at each other for a while, and finally he lets me in. Other boys in orange robes peer suspiciously out the the barred windows, and one sets a rosebush on fire right next to me.
The wizard leads me through a cold stone hallway, and up and wide, orange-lit winding staircase with very tiny steps. When we reach the top the stair continue, only tilted so that it formed a corrugated horizontal plane. (Like this: /\/\/\/\/\/\). I try to walk on it, but the wizard open a door that I already passed and motions me through.

At this point I recount everything that happened in my dream previous to meeting Kris, including the events I tried explaining to him, (none of which I remember now). Then I start over from the beginning of the "Imagination" sequence, narrating it myself, while trying to follow along as best I can in my actions.

"He approached the impressive stone building..." (I turn to the right and read the plaque in the doorway of the building.)
"...No, these architects didn't mark the date of construction of the building..."
(There is a long list of roman numerals on the plaque)
"They marked the time of the accident... when the workers drowned... to harness the power of water in the walls of the school..." (It's getting harder to make sense of my narration, and finally I figure out that I'm supposed to be contemplating the wizard school across the street. I let myself in the gate, hoping I won't have enough time to make up more nonsense narration, and enter the building. I realize as a walk though rooms that change that I am waking up, and it's harder for my conscious mind to make up scenarios that will be as interesting for my active dream self as my unconscious mind could.
The thing I remember as I contemplated this was standing in a room where one wall was made of tall, sharp-edged irregular stone pillars spaced about six inches apart. A violent blue light shone through the gaps, but there was a rock garden on the other side.
I finally figured out that this was the Indian guy's test of Imagination.

Diorama masonry anxiety

I am at a rehearsal for the end 0f quarter art presentation near a campfire. While the person before me presents their small diorama of a Native American lodge and does an interpretive dance dressed as a maroon and gold eagle, I light a fire out of small twigs and bits of dried grass in the tiny barbecue in my diorama. When it is my turn I present the diorama and bake a tiny piece of ethnic food on the barbecue.
After the presentation I am in the car with my mom and brother, and I thank my brother for letting me use his diorama for the presentation while I finish mine. I read the thick brochure of guidelines for the project and find a few lines in tiny print that say the lodge must be decorated in the tribe colors of maroon and gold, and the barbecue must be constructed of stone, and produce three different types of food from three areas for the judges. This means I will have to completely reconstruct my entire diorama by tomorrow, and I need to go forage for special supplies.
Anna, Kathryn, and I all dress up in fancy dresses and high heels for our foraging adventure and at 8 pm head out for an all night adventure. To get our lodge-building supplies we must follow a path through a muddy forest enclosed in a tunnel under a school building. It takes me a long time to find the appropriate stones for the masonry of the barbecue, and on the way back I slip in the mud and lose most of them.
Everyone else turns in their finished diorama, and I must explain to Shirley that I haven't completed my final project again.