a dream? or an encounter with the devil? hmm...

last night i had a series of off-the-wall, intense dreams. but the only one i can vividly remember was a dream (?) where i was lying in bed, half asleep, in the hotel room where i was staying at in real life. suddenly i felt someone crawl over me in bed and then wrap himself around me. i could feel the weight and warmth of his body. his hands were positioned on my head and neck. i was so panicked that i couldn't move or scream. my body ached from the fear and shock. i knew he was there to do something awful to me and i wondered if this is how my life would end.

and then i woke up.

...and again

I don't know what the deal is, but there was another Anthony Bourdain cameo. I'm beginning to worry now.

In the first part of the dream I was in the car with my husband, on a road trip. It was a more or less spontaneous trip, and we were just exploring. We got to a little town in some southern state. As we entered town, we started to see people in the street, like there was some event. People were dancing and eating, there was music, and the streets were really narrow so we had to slow to a crawl and drive through the middle of everything. As we progressed I realized that we were going through very distinct racial sections of town. At first everyone looked Central American, and I commented that I felt like we had been transported to Nicaragua or Honduras*. As we got a little further the crowd changed. There was a transitional group that included a gypsy flamenco dancer (everything was very detailed, people's clothes, faces and hair). Then suddenly everyone was African-American and there was a large man in a stereotypical "pimp suit", dark purple with a bowler hat, all his accessories coordinated. He was very spiffy and was dancing and juggling a little pistol.

We didn't quite know what to make of this, and we were a little freaked out by these progressive distinct racial groups. We arrived at a section of town with only whites, and they were also out in the street, eating stereotypical things like baked beans and coleslaw. They looked pretty redneck, and they weren't very exuberant compared to the other groups [I love how my subconscious reinforces stereotypes...]; they seemed poor and resentful, like they were fomenting revolt.

At this point my husband had gotten really intrigued and wanted to further explore the town and see what the party was about. We stopped the car to try to decide what to do, and in the few seconds we were stopped, a mulleted blond guy went around the back and bent down. I realized that he was trying to let the air out of our tires with a modified Bic pen. [In the dream, those clear ballpoint Bic pens had a screw-in plug at the non-writing end, and this screw corresponded to the screw on the tire, making them the perfect instrument for emptying car tires; I filed away this information as potentially useful.] We realized we weren't welcome here, and the vaguely menacing atmosphere that had been growing since the beginning finally registered. Fortunately our tires were still inflated, so we got out of there.

Later we arrived at a hotel/resort somewhere in Arkansas. I'm not sure what we were doing there, but we were planning on staying at least one night. It so happened that Anthony Bourdain and his crew were there too, to attend some kind of conference. We were all eating at a big table, and he was flirting outrageously with me (including a roguish and extreme version of "footsies"), which I found flattering but disconcerting. I had the impression that it was a compulsion of his to keep his womanizing skills active at all times, and I told myself that I shouldn't be too flattered by the attention since I was just the most acceptable option present for maintaining his skills (his crew members were apparently exempt since they were too constant a presence).

Later, he needed help organizing handouts and a PowerPoint for a presentation he was making, and I was coaching him on the fine points of labeling Appendices. I said that at my workplace we usually marked them "Appendix A: Such-and-Such" and "Appendix B: Such-and-Such", but then pointed out that the "Appendix A" was probably superfluous, like making a one-item list with "1." He seemed to think that was witty, and also seemed to take my coaching seriously, as if he actually needed help, which was rather flattering (not to mention that he didn't seem to look down on the fact that I had a secretarial job). I felt a little guilty, though, because my husband had gone back to our room, disgusted (I inferred) by my indulgence of this blatant cad.

Things were a little more vague after that. There was a subplot involving a very odd mixed-breed puppy, gray with black speckles and very sheep-like. I did a little bit of research and came to the conclusion that she was actually a very rare and potentially valuable hybrid (she had hair like a poodle, so was allergen-free). According to random internet sources, there were either 330 or 990 existing ("Figures of 1,110 are thought to be inaccurately high"). I was wondering about her potential sale value, but she was also really cute, so I wasn't sure that I wanted to sell her. She seemed like a very cooperative and malleable dog, to the point that she wouldn't really even require training.

Then there was a subplot in which I was arriving at a boarding high school. I was only there temporarily, and there was a whole other group who was also only going to be there temporarily. We were going to be housed in dorms with large, open rooms and bunk beds. As long as the temporary groups were there, each room would contain 8 people, of mixed genders. I was happy to realize that I had snagged a top bunk against the wall, instead of one of the beds out in the middle of the room. The only people I remember were a real-life coworker and a random guy from my high-school class that I don't think I ever talked to. In the dream he was a kind of proto-River Phoenix/Keanu Reeves, and we were all aware that he was Going to Be Big, so everyone was friendlier to him in the dream than they were in real life high school. There was a bit of subtle jockeying to get a bed near his, which he didn't acknowledge openly--but I could tell he was happy about it. A more alarming element of the dorm was the presence of huge cockroaches and even several rats, scurrying around people's luggage.

{Not only do I always seem to introduce the most unsavory labels ("pimp"?), but I'm maxing out the tag characters to the point that Blogger won't publish my post unless I get rid of some!}


*Of course I've never been to either place, but it was very clear in my mind that the scene looked exactly like either of those countries.

more [overflowing] baggage

I had a long, detailed, and unsettling dream this morning. I was on a group trip (sigh) with a lot of college-age kids (I was also that age), including some random former classmates from elementary school through college.

The trip was to India, and we were staying at a large, run-down resort. The hotel was very old, and pieced-together in the way of old buildings that have been added on to over and over. It was a weird mixture of good old (antiques), just run-down old, and new. There were a couple of pools outside that were especially impressive: a freshwater infinity pool and, just beside it overlooking the actual ocean, a rocky saltwater pool. The rocks were set up so that the seawater sloshed in and out over them, but swimmers wouldn't be washed out to sea. It was a really nice setup, so nice that the temptation to swim there overcame my desire to not expose my flabby belly.

There was some random exploration of the hotel, and a lot of time spent on my part preparing to swim. This involved showering, picking out the most flattering combination of a variety of unmatching two-pieces, and putting on various lotions and makeup. I was very stuck on the idea that I needed to look as good as possible for the swimming, but I also recognized that I was being obsessive, and I was frustrated that supper time was approaching and it was going to be too late to swim for more than a few minutes.

Other hotel curiosities were the stairways and elevators. The stairways were very narrow and low-ceilinged, so low-ceilinged that I was hesitant to try them. The hotel contained a lot of stories, though, so I decided to try the elevator. It seemed normal when I stepped in with another person, but morphed into a sort of minivan when we got down to ground level. She took charge and drove it, rather crazily, to another building on the resort grounds. I decided not to take the elevator again.

The whole atmosphere became a little oppressive once I started paying attention. The workers at the resort, if not openly hostile, obviously hated us all and hated the fact that we were there. Most of them were quiet about it, but not all. On an exploratory trip with some other people on a remote upstairs wing of the building, we came to a large open room decorated with lots of Indian things--rugs, hanging lamps, etc. We were interested because it seemed like The Real Thing and not something for tourist consumption, but when the man inside it saw us he got up from his folding chair and started yelling and gesticulating wildly at us to leave. A couple of younger men who could have been his sons arrived and went inside the room to start some kind of ecstatic religious dance, while the man kept on yelling at us.

After that, I think there was another mini-episode in which I was trying to sort through overflowing baggage to get ready to swim (I never did get to swim in the whole dream).

Then things switched to another story line. I was still at the resort, but it was night and the group had been given free time. I was in an upper story, very reminiscent of an airport, with little bars one after the other, not separated by walls. I was following around an older guy who was a mixture of several former professors and bosses, with a dash of David Carradine thrown in. I wasn't sure why I was following him, but I knew I was supposed to stick with him even though he wasn't interacting much with me. His demeanor was sort of your average Troubled Antihero, silent, brooding, with his mind obviously on something. He would stop at one of the bars and order two drinks (once it was a "lemon fizz" and a gin and tonic, I can't remember the others), one of which was obviously supposed to be for me. Since I was following him somewhat at a distance, though, I wasn't quite sure what to do. He never really gestured for me to come over, but his two-drink order made it clear that I was supposed to be with him. Each time, he would get the two drinks, look at them distractedly, brood for a while, push them back toward the bartender, and leave for the next bar without actually consuming anything. I got the impression that all this was leading up to some kind of action of vengeance on his part, although toward whom I wasn't sure.

This puzzling action went on for a while, and he eventually morphed into my husband. I don't remember what happened then, except that I was relieved to be back on more familiar ground.

fires, group trips, and Southern Cooking

I was on a [wait for it!] group trip, and we were all staying in a high-rise hotel. There didn't seem to be any staff or even any guests not in our group, although I didn't find that strange. It was at night, and we were all just kind of hanging around waiting for something when someone noticed smoke wafting in from a distant part of the hotel. It was decided that we had exactly an hour to get out of the hotel, and that we would meet outside at the end of the hour. No one seemed very worried about it; everyone I saw was going on with their hanging-out activities until near the end of the hour.

When the time was almost up, everyone started running around and heading for the elevators (it didn't occur to anyone in the dream that we shouldn't be taking elevators in a burning building). I started grabbing random items: purse, a change or two of clothing. I was trying to figure out which would be the most useful clothing items to take with me, and my hands were getting full. I also took my childhood stuffed Curious George, although, vexingly, there were suddenly two of him and I couldn't figure out which one was the "real" Curious George. About then I realized that I could have easily used the hour to pack up all my stuff and just taken it all with me instead of risking it burning up. For some reason I had been under the impression that we were supposed to take only what we could grab at the last minute, to make it more of an Emergency Scenario. I was vaguely resentful that I hadn't thought of it, and I wondered if everyone else had packed their bags, or if they were just doing last-minute grabbing too. I was getting ready to be resentful of everyone who had packed, because they hadn't been coerced by an inaccurate impression of what the "authorities" wanted them to do and would not only not lose any possessions but would also be cool and put-together instead of dropping things out of too-full hands.

After that I was in a gym-type building, for some kind of vaguely Adventist meeting. People were sitting on rows of chairs, and vaguely Afro-Caribbean food was being served: some kind of beans and rice, really delicious fried lumps of mashed plantain, and some kind of whole-wheat-looking cookies or biscuits that were in a messy state of tabletop preparation. My mother (?) said, "That's Southern Cooking!", which kind of embarassed me.

As I was standing there contemplating the food, an African guy who had a crush on me* walked past and touched my hair, then continued on to sit with a very kind- and meek-looking wife and cute little son. I was mortified that a married man with a child not only had a thing for me but was expressing it somewhat openly in a public setting (his wife didn't see it). Then an ex-boyfriend showed up beside me and hinted somewhat snarkily that since I was looking at the cookies, the mess would soon disappear because I would consume everything, crumbs and all.

*I don't know how I knew he had a thing for me, it was just an established fact.

doggie nightmare

I had a terrible, terrible dream the other night (morning?) just before waking up. I dreamed that my husband and I were on a trip and were going to stay one night in an avant-garde hotel. We were shown our room, and walked in to look at it. It turned out to consist of an empty carpeted expanse that slanted toward a one- or two-story dropoff into a lobby below. No railing or anything. Above this expanse was a white loft for sleeping (no furniture anywhere, although that didn't strike me as strange at the time). We had our dog with us, and while we humans were up on the sleeping balcony the dog lost her coordination, started slipping toward the edge, and fell over it.

It was awful! Of course she was dead, and I was crying hysterically (suddenly my mother was there for some reason, and also crying hysterically). To add insult to injury the snooty young staff members started talking about how "no one would be stupid enough to have a dog with them here".

I sometimes have dreams like this where I'm sobbing hysterically and I'm always curious as to whether I'm actually sobbing/hiccuping. I half woke up as I was crying in the dream and noticed that I was just breathing normally, although it was strange to be awake while still doing deep "sleep breathing".

Elephant in the Lake

Last night I dreamed a rather complicated and convolunted story that may not make complete sense here (it sure didn't last night). I was playing a character in this dream: a man who had a best friend. These two friends had possibly the most tragic lives of anyone outside of a Victorian melodrama. My character had a lovely wife, who eventually died. His best friend, however, had a much more tragic existence. He also had a lovely wife, with a lovely child. The child died early in the dream. This couple had also bought and restored a vintage hotel that was located on the shores of a large, picturesque lake (something like a fjord). At some point in the dream, my character visited the hotel in its finished state. My friends had apparently dredged out of the fjord a cement elephant that had originally belonged to the hotel, reinstalled it in the courtyard, and painted it blue. Other parts of the vintage hotel had also been restored, including a cave tour (apparently the hotel was built on an outcropping of limestone, which lends itself well to cave formation). In the cave, inexplicably, was the advancing edge of a glacier. My friend's wife blithely climbed up to touch it, showing me how easy it was, but I remained reluctant. It seemed to be tempting fate to touch a glacier.

At some point in the dream, I visited my friend on a wine-making commune, where he and his family were staying and working. I got a tour of the winery, the vineyards, and this blissful meadow, where (I swear this is true) children were frolicking in the flowers. There were some heartbreakingly beautiful blue flowers in the meadow and I remember thinking that it was all too good to be true.

Sure enough, I later heard that my friend and his child had died of cholera (??), leaving his wife alone at the resort hotel. I immediately went to visit her (my wife was also dead by this time). On my visit, it became clear that she was planning to kill herself, as she had nothing left to live for. She passed on to me her dead husband's identity, though, providing me a way to start over (from what, I'm not sure). She gave me his ID card, and told me that I could take over the hotel and give myself a fresh start. I was sad that she was going to die, but I understood her position. After all, I had lost my family too.