dreams

When I was a wee lad, I semi-regularly had two types of bad dreams:

• Ferry disasters (possibly because I didn’t swim well and any rocking on a ferry kind of terrified me. Because I grew up on Vancouver Island, almost all of our holiday trips required taking the ferry.)
• Getting chased down by various things and entities, including but not restricted to:
  • Vehicles of all types. They typically were missing the front bumper, because this made them more terrifying to me.
  • Vampires
  • Robots
  • Mummies
  • Assorted monsters

The chase dreams would usually end just as the thing was catching up to me, or in the case of a vehicle, just as I was about to be run down. I’d wake up, all frazzled, then eventually fall back asleep. Good times all around.

As an adult I very rarely have bad dreams and when I do, I typically wake up, think, “That was weird” and promptly doze off again.

Last night I dreamed I was either at the UBC campus or one that was subbing for it. It was vast and sprawling, and I must have been attending classes there, because I remember marvelling over how I was enjoying the science classes more than the arts, which was the opposite of my dream self (my awake self is the same, but not as strongly as the dream version of me). As I made my way across campus, it became time for me to leave. I was walking along one of those quiet campus roads that you see an occasional service vehicle trundling down, and as I approached the edge of the campus this road widened out into the start of a (I believe four-lane) highway. This was almost certainly my subconscious drawing in the Southwest Marine Drive entrance to UBC, which is indeed very highway-like.

Because this was where the highway started (or ended), it was very quiet. I needed to cross, and rather than going back to the quiet campus road, I opted to cross the highway.

You can see where this is heading.

I began to cross and almost at the same moment noticed a car approaching from the campus side, heading toward me. It was a low, dusty gold colour. It made me think of a 70s Dodge Charger. I looked it up and if this isn’t the car I saw in the dream, it is extremely close to it:

In the dream, I did a quick mental calculation and realized that the speed of the car meant I wouldn’t have time to get out of the way. Would the driver swerve around me? Plow into me? Was there even a driver at all? (The childhood versions of these dreams almost always featured driverless vehicles).

With no other options left, I did the only thing I could think of: I jumped straight into the air as the car approached. And it zipped harmlessly under me.

I woke up shortly after that.

Maybe the takeaway is that as an adult I have more control over things that frighten me, or make me uneasy. Or maybe my subconscious finally realized that three dimensions exist in dreams, too.

I think my allergies have been bonking me over the head the past few days, and this lead me to having a dream (I think it was a dream, I was in bed and all) about a new anti-allergy medicine called AllerJAZZ! The packaging had the compelling slogan: “Takes care of your allergies…and all that jazz!” Apparently, my subconscious mind is big on exclamation points. Also, jazz hands were a prominent part of the logo.

I can kind of see the packaging for this. Maybe I’ll mock up something later. That seems like a good use of my time.

I remember at least part of a dream I had last night. It went like this (insert dreamy music and transition effects):

I was in a large house, possibly a mansion, and had a sniper rifle. But wait, it’s not what it sounds like! It was a pew-pew laser rifle, like you use in laser tag. In the dream I apparently had a reputation of being a good shot (this is definitely not taken from any actual skills at video games and/or real life) and so even though we were in some kind of timed game that was ostensibly a free-for-all, it was really Everyone vs. Me.

I would emerge from a room and take a shot. I didn’t have time to use the scope, so I’d just quickly eyeball using the sight, and down an opponent would go. After a while, when they probably started thinking about how I was never not going to use my laser rifle, I switched it up and began using a grenade launcher. No, I don’t know how you could possibly simulate a grenade launcher in a game of laser tag, but in my dream, it not only worked, it worked very well.

I woke up just as the timer was running down, and I was declared victor, going undefeated. Basically, in this dream, I was a complete badass. Why I had this dream, I can’t say. Maybe my subconscious felt I needed a little ego boost for the end of the year, and delivered it in a way I could understand. I’m pretty sure the grenade launcher was due to recently rewatching Aliens. I had better luck than they did.

Last night I dreamed I was back living in my basement suite at Tim’s old place (I last lived there in 2011), but as is the case in dream versions, the layout was different and it had a hallway where one did not exist before. Apparently we were having water issues. More specifically, something broke or sprung a leak because I was walking through water (rather unperturbed, too. I think I was barefoot and enjoying it in a way).

Rather than have a plumber fixing the issue, we appeared to have an entire crew working on whatever the problem was. One especially cheerful member of the crew stopped to explain to me how the problem was fixed and confirming it was fixed, and they were leaving. Even in the dream, I was curious why the whole place was still flooded. I approached another worker who was moving the fridge (back?) but then it turned out to be a mattress. It may have actually morphed when my sleep-brain decided a mattress suddenly made more sense, somehow.

But the best part was when about half a dozen pigeons flew into the hallway (which was not flooded) and started milling about as pigeons do. This was treated as essentially a normal thing in the dream and I bent down to one pigeon and moved an index finger under its belly, toward its feet, the way you would do to a budgie to get it to hop on your finger. The pigeon hopped onto my finger. I then carried the pigeon around on my finger for most of the rest of the dream.

Then I woke up. It is dry and pigeon-free as I type this, so my dream does not appear to be prophecy–so far.

I had several vivid dreams last night, and made a token effort to remember at least one of them. And did!

It was about movie intermissions, but not the old-timey kind where the movie literally stopped playing because they only had one projector and had to physically change reels. No, in my dream–and if I remember correctly, the movie being featured was Aliens (1986)–the movie would literally keep playing, but it would be the intermission, the idea being that people still needed a break during a long movie (and let’s face it, all of James Cameron’s movies are long¹mostly), but rather than force people to try to pick the best time to run off and pee (though there is, in fact, now an app for that), the movie would deliberately add in a lull midway through.

What I recall from the dream is that the intermission scenes were a combination of backstory or minor character development, stuff that wasn’t critical to the plot, so if you missed it, it was more like missing the bonus material on a DVD rather than some vital part of the story. In the dream, people seemed to like it. In reality, it would just make movies in theatres even longer than they are now, so maybe not such a good idea.

Etc.: The last movie I saw in a theatre was Onward, in early March 2020. I can’t say I miss the experience, with or without intermissions. I do remember my bladder almost exploding during the interminable credits for Avengers: Endgame (runtime 181 minutes) as I waited for the “secret” scene at the end. My bladder won, and I missed it. I think I looked it up later, but can’t even remember what it was now.

I’m in a large, open food court or cafeteria. Although it’s a big place, it isn’t busy. I am going to order something to eat. As I walk by a glass display case holding food items, I notice an array of cookies that are the size of dinner plates. I am tempted, but will not order these, as I’m trying to lose weight, even in my dreams.

I get to the counter to order. A few moments later, another guy moves up behind me, then several others also join in. A girl approaches to take my order–except she ignores me and starts talking to the guy behind me. I stand there with a pretty convincing, “Whaaa?” look on my face before shrugging and moving on to another part of this giant cafeteria food place.

Here things get fuzzy, alas. All I can recall now is that I went to another food outlet of some type, and also failed to get food there for some reason, so I left the place, empty-handed and empty-stomached.

Another dream occurred sometime later: I am talking to two young women who are holding up some kind of line against a background of mountains in the distance. They want to know if the line is straight. Thinking about this now, it makes no sense at all, but in the dream it did, and I assured them the line was pretty straight. They seemed satisfied. I remember the mountains looked nice, and it must have been summer, because the sky was blue, and the peaks had no snow on them.

It felt like I was travelling.

I moved on, to a kind of outdoor shop that was filled with maps and outdoor gear and such. It was being remodelled, and the fragrant smell of fresh-cut cedar hung heavy in the air. It looked like about half the place had been remodelled using this raw, rough-hewn wood. I didn’t care, because in this dream, I just had to use the bathroom.

I got to the bathroom and again, everything was made from this rough-cut, fresh cedar. It was the best-smelling bathroom ever. The sink functioned in a fashion, but all the places where you could relieve yourself were covered in plastic and out of service. I had to leave because I couldn’t go. /zen

I later had a dream in which I was back working temporarily at my last job, something I would never do in a million billion years unless you, like, quadrupled my pay.

So the themes of this dreamfest appeared to be:

• Not getting what I wanted
• Getting things I did not want
• Being somewhat helpful for odd purposes

Some dreams I had last night, or what I remember of them:

The first seemed to be taking place in some kind of high fantasy world reminiscent of The Elder Scrolls games. I’m not sure if I was actually human, but recall moving between different groups as I traversed the countryside, some of them being undead or skeletons. None if it was threatening or scary. This segued to me being in some kind of building–possibly a hotel, so this might have been a transition point to another dream. It felt 19th century, at least in decor. There were two women in old-timey dresses and one was frantic because someone or something was on the loose and likely coming for them, someone who seemed like a UBG–an Ultimate Bad Guy. I got the sense they’d be in big trouble if he found them. They ran into a room and hid in a large walk-in closet. Apparently in this dream I was a complete idiot, because I was in the hallway when the UBG appeared and very obviously went into the hotel room with the two women. Further, as he came in behind me, I very obviously went into the walk-in closet, and only shut the door on my half, leaving the women fully exposed. Maybe I was the UBG’s assistant.

The last thing I remember was thinking I should do something, so I tensed up like I was going to punch someone. Then the dream ended.

The next one started on a ship, which was being controlled by bad guys. I was being forced up top on deck to look for something or to do a thing. I remember climbing ladders and at one point someone fired a gun to remind me not to try anything funny, like trying to escape. There was also a horse involved, somehow. After some tense spy movie-like action, the scene transitioned to land and to what seemed to be the entrance to the old Moose Lodge in Duncan (it is no longer Moose-affiliated, as I found out recently via the interweb) where many people were milling about. I had either escaped or been released and had important information for my dad, who was apparently there (he died in 1991), but due to murky conditions, I had a hard time finding him, so I was calling out for him. The horse was there, off to the side, and appeared to have a large chunk missing from its middle in a way that is too weird to properly describe. The horse, unsurprisingly, seemed unwell, and sat down. Somehow what I did was tied to the horse and saving it, probably, but again I woke up before any closure.

Then my Garmin sleep report said I didn’t get enough deep sleep. REM sleep was good, though. I’ve been having piles of dreams lately, and have no idea why. I like remembering them, though!

Another dream I had last night:

This dream came before almost meeting Indiana Jones and was more ominous.

In it, something had happened that was probably bad, as there was thick black smoke belching out of downtown Vancouver–enough to suggest a large section of the downtown core was affected. And the smoke stretched in tendrils across the sky, to where you could see other places that had been struck by…something. As I looked around, I could see multiple of these pillars of black smoke everywhere, all of them connected in a way that seemed unnatural.

It was never revealed, but in the dream I felt some kind of meteor was likely, because I was totally a pseudo-scientist. I also recall most people never found out what happened, because whatever it was knocked out all communications at the same time, so maybe hostile aliens. I was helping someone who looked just like the archaeologist on Curse of Oak Island sort through a box of tiny snails that were apparently being distributed as food. I was helping because of my scientist stature, I think. I didn’t actually do anything else in the dream that I can recall, just snail duty. And the archaeologist may have actually been one of the coop students I worked with at the college, because he looked a lot like Laird Niven now that I think about it.

A dream last night:

I was in some desert plaza with a few other people, apparently waiting for Indiana Jones to show up. I was playing as some 20-something (I remember this–I was clearly playing a role, I was not meeting Indy as myself) and apparently got on the wrong side of the villain, who was in attendance. He came over to intimidate me and I made some move on his ample villainous neck, claiming that I thought he was going to fall over my chair and was saving him. Then I got up to pee, which I announced to everyone for some reason. I was called back before I left because Indy was arriving. Then I woke up. I’m pretty sure it was the 1930s Indy, and not the 100-year-old one. I was also the 20-something version of me, not the 100-year-old one.

I’m pretty sure I had the dream because I’d read an article about the game Indiana Jones and the Fate of Atlantis earlier in the evening.

And now I’ll never know why we were meeting Indy. :sadtrombone:

I’ve had a lot of dreams the past few nights, and I’ve actually remembered several of them. They are both silly and weird, as all good dreams should be. Given the stress I’ve gone through lately, it almost seems like my subconscious mind is trying to offer a calming balm of sorts. I’m good with that.

Dream #1: The cat and the keyboard

This dream involved one of my internet gaming pals, Circuit. It played out over some kind of webcam he had set up. He was showing off a couple new things: a shiny new black keyboard with a knob (like the one I have). For some reason, the keyboard was on the carpet. I remember the carpet was yellow. And he also had a new black cat, though I never got the name. Circuit mentioned that one issue is the cat seemed to barf a lot and just as he said this the cat barfed on his new keyboard. That’s where the dream ended.

I laughed when I woke up and remembered the dream.

Dream #2: Mom and the duck device

The second dream featured my mom, who is now 88. In the dream, she looked like she was in her late 40s or early 50s, but I couldn’t tell if the dream was in the past or if she was unnaturally young in the present. It started in a booth of what I think was a McDonald’s. I don’t recall seeing anything to positively ID it, but that was the vibe. The scene abruptly changed to outside, near a tree by the road that went past the McDonald’s. I think it may have been the McDonald’s in my hometown of Duncan, so the road would be the island highway, though due to its location, traffic does not go roaring past here. My mom was talking to a man who was down low by the tree, dogging or something. He apparently had something controversial to report, and she was acting like a news reporter, complete with audio recording device. She promised not to use his name and turned the device on to start recording their conversation. The device was disguised as a duck and to turn it on, she had to squeeze the duck, which caused it to open its mouth and quack. She then held the duck to him and started the questions. That’s where the dream ended.

I not only laughed when I woke up and remembered this dream, I laugh every time I think of it. My mom was holding the duck like an Uzi, too.

I had this dream last night:

I was the passenger in a car that felt like a small sedan, somewhat sport, like an Acura or a nice Hyundai or something. The driver was a younger guy who seemed to be a nephew or some kind of relative. In the dream, I did not have a good feeling about his driving.

We were on a mountain highway–you can probably see where this is going (no pun intended)–and it reminded me of the Upper Levels Highway on the way to Horseshoe Bay or maybe the Malahat Drive on the way to Victoria–a windy highway that hugs the face of the mountain, with water hundreds of meters below. As we sped along, I saw ahead of us a bunch of fir tree branches, like you might find on a typical Christmas tree. Why they were laying across the highway I cannot say, but instead of driving around them, my possible nephew drove over them, perhaps thinking them a minor obstacle. As he did, the car got caught on them and started drifting into the oncoming lanes.

I distinctly remember audibly saying in a very calm voice, “No no no no no…” as I knew this would not end well. Surprisingly, my nephew did that “steer into the skid” thing, corrected and got us back on our side of the road without hitting any of the oncoming traffic. “Yay!” my dream-self thought. But only for a moment, because while we were in our own lane, we were not heading down the lane, but rather across it, at full speed. There was no time to correct, nor was there even time for me to chant, “No no no no…” to myself again. I did have sufficient time to absolutely know this would not end well.

I woke up either just before the car hit the concrete barrier at full speed, or just as it hit. I laid there in bed with the dream still fully intact in my mind, my imagination playing through what would have happened next:

• The car smashes into the barrier and the barrier is sufficiently strong enough to prevent it from plowing through, instead causing it to crumple into nothing or possibly explode–then tumble merrily over the edge.
• Or the car does smash through the concrete barrier and goes flying off the mountain at high speed, sailing unimpeded all the way down before striking the water (or rocks) at the bottom at approximately Mach 2.

In both cases, the chance of survival would be pretty much zero, unless right at the end it turned into one of those, “Hey, I can fly!” dreams. That might have been worth staying asleep for. But as mentioned in the title of this post, while my subconscious hates me (by subjecting me to this dream), it still respects me enough to wake me up before the really bad parts happen.

So here’s a half-hearted thank you to my brain. Tonight, if I dream, I want the dream to be pleasant and delightful. It doesn’t have to be enchanting, too, though I wouldn’t object to that. And if any cliffs are involved, I better be able to fly, even if it’s by flapping my arms.

Last night, I dreamed that I returned to work at Starbucks as a barista, a position I last held 24 years ago. Yes, it’s been awhile.

Here are the details as I recall them:

• The store was either very big or in a very big space. The ceilings were vast, like the kind you would find in a convention hall. The store had two bars arranged opposite each other in a square, but there was something in the square between the bars, so to go from one to the other you had to walk all the way around, which seemed like a vast distance in the dream.
• I was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt and had the sleeves rolled partway up. I think it may have been a turtleneck.
• We were either post-pandemic or in a dream version of the world where COVID-19 never happened, as no one was wearing masks. This was the only nice part of the dream.
• It was very busy. Orders were coming in fast, and I was clearly out of my depth. Everything I knew I’d long since forgotten. A customer asked for a triple, and I looked at the menu board, trying to figure out what a triple might be. He wanted three shots of espresso, of course, something any noob barista would know.
• I don’t remember if this happened, but it seemed like at least one customer remarked about how they knew more about my job than I did–which was accurate.
• I don’t remember how the dream ended, but I do remember waking up and feeling kind of crappy about it. On the other hand, the idea of working retail anywhere again gives me the willies, so perhaps the dream was just my mind’s way of reminding me, should I seek out some additional income from part-time work on the side.

In conclusion, I would like a nice dream about fluffy nice things tonight. Or winning the lottery and not having it turn out to be an ironic horror or something.