Right before I had to force myself to get up, I dreamed some scenes where I cooked rice/rice noodles for breakfast, but I had to “clean” the noodles and they accidentally kept going down the sink drain. I was frustrated. Someone suggested using olive oil, but I said I’d have to eat less pizza if I do that and all I had left to eat was rice and pizza.
Later, a main character guy made some protest speech in front of a classroom with auditorium seating about high student loans. He said that his private school loan was too high, although he hadn’t even looked at a bill for a year. Someone said they didn’t believe them as they all left. Supposedly, the government forgave the private loans like the one that affected him.
Right before I woke up, he struggled to speak German and all I caught was “…mit…mit vide.”
I think elements in the dream were supposed to make me realize it was a dream, but it didn’t work.
There was a green (a shade of dream green) lizard, an iguana, but I kept calling it a salamander.
It kept growing to a large size and even “swam” through the air, but I didn’t realize it was a dream I kept picturing a garden to let it go in.
I remember being in auditorium-like seating and staring at some lady who looked like an actress.
She confronted me later and I explained she looked like an actress (I couldn’t remember the name). She invited me out – it was awkward because it felt like she was asking me out on a romantic date, but I’m not gay, so it was just a little weird.
I ended up not following her and going in a different direction in a city.
I remember running into Charlie* in this dream. He took a lighter and burnt part of the back driver’s side door. I got mad, telling him it was a leased car.
I tried moving his hand and lighter away from my car and it went close to his face, lighting the edges of his eyebrows on fire.
It was like a way to remember the dream – for both of us. (I’m so putting this idea in a dream tech story.)
Later, Hillary* from high school got into a post-apocalyptic version of a COTA bus. I got in a passenger seat, thinking Charlie would stand in the stairwell. He didn’t get in.
Later, I was in the stairwell. We went by what Hillary called “gates.” I called them exits. They were half-built interstate highways going over a large river. There were exposed elevators.
We somehow drove through one “gate” and I was worried the bus was too long to get through an elevator cleanly. I was right, it got stuck. We still got down, though.
* Names have been changed.
I have been playing The Last of Us, so my dreams have become more vivid. However, I’m writing this days after the fact.
I remember being in a college auditorium. The guy next to me had written an Images of America book (a friend did this in waking life recently), but instead of a place, it was about a subset of people with some kind of power. I asked him to sign it. He said aloud what he was going to write, but I can’t remember what it was. He wrote it not only backward but to be read in a mirror. I thought that was AWESOME. I remember the pen was kinda leaky and smeared as he wrote.
I left to use the restroom, but could “remote view” the auditorium and the speaker. The speaker was an asshole, though, and called me out for leaving to use the restroom. He made it seem like I was a slacker and the guy I was sitting next to seemed embarrassed.
I started walking to my next class – it was an interesting set of one-story buildings I walked through. My schedule had the week’s schedule broken up into 1-1.5 hour classes. I was already late to the next class, so I skipped it to go get a form signed by a director of some engineering college.
The room was 1011 (even though it was on the first and only floor) and I remember looking at room numbers to navigate the space.
I got to the front desk and the director – an Indian guy – invited me back to his office and left. I had to go through other rooms that were being used for experiments. The students looked as if they were studying how blood absorbed into the carpet and had those yellow crime scene evidence markers by each stain. I had to hop over one and thought, “they shouldn’t be doing this in the doorway.”
I got to the director’s office and sat in a leather office chair. He walked around, worried because he failed some certification for his job twice. I asked him about his research about “Seeing without seeing” (which I meant that remote viewing I did). As he paced around with a weird clock object, he said the data wasn’t significant enough to do further research. I was disappointed.
I’ve been sick and on medication, so I’ve not had very vivid dreams or the energy to post here. So here are snippets of what I do remember from random dreams in the last week:
* Name was changed.
I remember randomly going to a magic show in an auditorium. There was a stage and a prop door on the far right. The audience sat in white wooden folding chairs.
I ended up sitting in a seat that had some woman’s purse behind it, but I wasn’t sure if the seat was saved. I told the man two chairs over that I would get up if the lady comes back. There were about four other empty seats. I’m not sure why I chose that one.
The magician was missing his left arm from just above his elbow. I remember him using it in his act talking about how having a missing arm makes it even more magical. He used the door as part of his act. At that time, I was so close, I could see how the trick worked and decided to sit farther back.
I got there too late and the show quickly ended. The magician and others were angry that I arrived late and took a seat when it was a “sold out” show. There was one more show, happening tomorrow, and I was worried that would have been sold out as well.
I remember going to a house party for St. Patrick’s Day. It was in a neighborhood similar to North Campus on N. Fourth Street, but I think it took place in Grandview. I had been there before – possibly in another dream in 2007(?) where I stayed the night and they had pictures of sailboats on the wall.
Someone came up with a project that dealt with sewing green clover images. I said it was late and I was going home. They were kinda angry that I didn’t stay and help with their project.
I remember going to my car that was parked along the curb outside (at night) and there was a beer delivery truck (the kind where the sides roll up – the doors were corrugated) parked on the street, blocking me in. There was a girl parked behind me – a white car, I think – who said her tire was flat. I said I’d call AAA.
I then realized I didn’t have my purse and had to go searching for it. I was afraid it was in the closed up auditorium, but I found it on a table at the party.