wierd dreams

here's another blog i moved over from the old site:

I've had some pretty colorful dreams over the years, and I thought it might be fun to share one. I changed the names to protect the innocent (and/or guilty). Please note that they are real people in my life. They were placed seemingly randomly in my subconcious, so if anyone thinks he or she is the character in the dream, they are probably right.

In the dream, I was on a holiday with my family, I think to some fictional city, but it felt an awful lot like Chicago. They went off to see sights, but I walked to what looked like the tallest brownstone ever ((99 floors) to visit some friends.
I wanted to go to the top and look down at the city from an atrium on that level, but after getting about 18 floors up, I started panicking and got off the elevator. The floor I got off on apparently housed a legislative body of some sort, presumably Congress, as it housed what seemed like 200+ lawmakers in a chamber I’ve seen on C-Span before.

I looked around and found a stairwell and after a couple flights I ended up meeting Dan Gretter and going with him to his nephew (and my cousin) Jon Gretter’s apartment (in the same building), which was a combination of a hippie commune and a fun house-style maze of rooms (which is weird because in the waking world, Jon hates hippies as much as I do). After hanging out there a while, we left and met Dave Stabak just outside the apartment who told us he was going up to meet up with friends at the top. Apparently he lived there with his girlfriend/fiancée(?) and a group of other people.

Being over my near-panic attack, I boarded the elevator again and went up with the group. Some of Dave’s roommates were playing roller hockey on the far-side of the top of the building. (I don’t actually know what dimension this building existed in, but it seemed to defy physics.) I saw Hercules from that Kevin Sorbo show years ago (Note: it was Hercules and NOT Kevin Sorbo), and I became consumed with a hatred for him. We had apparently been rivals of some sort in this dream world because there seemed to be a mutual dislike.

We decided to play roller hockey 1 on 1 and he quickly scored first. Cocky, he talked some trash. I got the puck and skated around him with the puck to the goal. At 3 feet from the net I missed wide. Hercules nearly got the puck but I was able to snatch it away and get back to the goal. I missed again and just barely made it back to the puck first. I skated back to the goal once again and at two feet away missed again. A final time I made iot to the puck first and with only a few seconds left, I scored. I’m not sure why but I won. (I guess Hercules’ goal didn’t count or he didn’t actually score it – I wasn’t sure at this point). He seemed pretty miffed by losing to me, his rival, so as we were walking back to our friends, I leaned over and said, “Nice game … douche.”

Hercules didn’t care for this so he took a swing at me but missed as badly as I had in my first few shots at goal. He must have been embarrassed because he just kind of faded into the crowd.

I made my way back to the bottom of the building and met up with my brother. We were talking on a park bench just outside the building and he told me he heard on the radio that the police were looking for a guy named Mark who had beaten up his girlfriend, Linda. Soon after I got a call from Mark Waters who told me it was he for whom the cops were searching. He had gotten into it with Linda Doublet (who’s married to Jason Doublet in the waking world) in their apartment, which was apparently right next to Dave Stabak’s and the hockey atrium on the top floor. Mark was distraught and wanted to turn himself in. He said the whole thing was a lie and that he wanted to clear his name. After agreeing to help him, I woke up.

It was 12:30 and I couldn’t get back to sleep so I watched some TV and hopped online, getting back to sleep around 4:30 (not uncommon these days). When I got back to sleep I had another fairly vivid dream:

I was in the neighborhood of some small rural town and was about to be attacked by a little girl with long blonde hair, who seemed to be the host body for some interdimensional/extraterrestrial monster. Luckily Doctor Who was there to save me by rolling a restored 1967 Volkswagon Carmengia convertible over her. Also, Doctor Who was now a woman. I don’t think that’s ever been the case in the TV show. There was another person with us who, after the little girl/monster was vanquished, began to show us the 7 martial arts stances he learned, possibly as some sort of celebratory gesture. I don’t remember the names of the stances, but one involved him in the sitting position, lifting himself in the air with his closed fists and kicking straight out. It was kind of like the foot version of the 3-inch punch. I think that’s when I woke up.

Wierd.