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Dream Log�
2002-05-29
2002.07.28 800 Pound Man The subject of this dream came as no surprise to me, we'd been watching a detective show that featured an 800 pound man as the bad guy. Anyway, I'm living in a a large, old high rise appartment building. On the top floor lives the 800 pound man. We have to go see him; I don't know why, but it's obligatory. We're going up the stairs, which was actually more like a ladder going up through the floors when we notice that the building is swaying. Now I know a lot of buildings sway a bit in high winds, but this makes me uneasy. I can see the trees out the window, going back and forth. The sway is increasing. Finally at the end of one arc it reaches the point of no return and starts to go over. I wonder if having the 800 pound man on the top floor contributed much to the building falling over. There's nothing I can do but wait for the crash. Which never comes. There's a break in the dream sequence here. There are a couple of them. The next thing I know we are in the 800 pound man's apartment. He's hooked up to a heart monitor and an IV drip and there is medical paraphenalia all over. There are a bunch of kids running around. He takes a syringe, gives himself an injection and tosses the syringe aside. I stop one of the kids from jumping on the bed and go to get the syringe so I can throw it away. The syringe and needle come apart. I throw the plastic part away and pull the needle out of the bed. It's an enormous embroidery needle. Some people go running through the house. I yell at them to stop, but they run on. I figure they're burglers, so I give chase. I run out of the building after them. I notice the Japanese restaurant across the street seems very busy. I notice they are selling hand painted calendars and I decide I want one. By the time I get there, they are all out of calendars, but they are selling all kinds of other stuff. They are closing their restaurant and moving back to Japan. I wonder if the 800 pound man will miss their food. I wanted to make this page a web log page, but my brain is numb and I'm just not following the instructions. However, I think I can probably manage even without, so I'll start now.
Dancing with Shirley Temple 5/28/2002
It is a long, circuitous route before we get to Shirley Temple.
I dreamed I met some friends at the Orange Circle. A near my home that has an actual traffic circle. You have to understand that traffic circles are rare in Orange County. Come to think of it, I've never seen one anywhere else in the country at all. In Mexico, yes. In the Cayman Islands, yes. Don't remember Canada. Tahiti, no. That covers all of the foreign countries I've been in. Are Americans just hopelessly perpendicular? I'm coming to believe so.
In any case, I am walking with friends through Orange, an area known for its older houses. We come upon an inn known for its old-fashioned amenities. We walk past the honeymoon suite. There is a bride laying in the huge fourposter there in her nightshift (sorry, that's the only word that fits. She is asleep. I think she must be wating for the groom. But in the next room there is a group of people that look like they are sleeping. Sleeping after they had an orgy. However, it's an orgy painted by John William Waterhouse. The three girls are artfully disarrayed; the two men as well. I remember feeling pity for the poor bride alone in her bed.
In the dream I move on past this scene. There are a bunch of people picnicing sumptuously on the side of a hill. There are huge oaks, picnic table set with good linen and fine food.
There is a little girl, dancing on the side of the hill. She has long, curly, medium brown hair. I start to dance with her. I feel great joy. I know that this child is my daughter and I love her.
Then the dream moves seamlessly to being a Shirley Temple movie. I'm dancing on this hillside with Shirley Temple (as she is in all her movies, of course, except in color). I'm trying to keep up with her dance moves. I do creditably, only fumbling a couple of times. I laugh as I misstep.
Then my stepson's alarm goes off. Damn!
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