Okay. This one went, well, swimmingly. I met up with a guy whom I happen to havea crush on in Real Life (don't worry -anonymity is assured, Herr Trautwein) and things get hazy at this point. I had this dream more than a week ago (SHAME!) and didn't come by to entertain you with it. I'm sorry. But. I seem to recal him being VERY nice to me without actually being VERY nice. And then I swam a lot, with my clothes on. Of course, at that point, my twin brother had showed up to talk me out of the swimming pool, and my dream started to turn into an adventure cartoon. Hmmmm. And a few nights ago, I dreamt again of meeting up with Mystery Man, and my friend Madeleine went swimming in Mystery Man's pool (NOT the pool of the other dream though.) I read a Dreamer's Dictionary recently, which claimed that dreams of females swimming indicated good luck in matters of love and friendship. If I had an evil grin icon, rest assured, it would be RIGHT HERE.

So, that's a date?

Well, last night, I think I had a lucid dream. You know, it seems like a dream about something bizarre and unusual is supposed to be surreal, but don't you think that the realistic ones are more surreal?? Dream begins fuzzy as always, but then, I gradually realize that I'm on the phone while in bed. The gentleman caller is an intimate, significant other, whose name I know so it's never said (AGH!!). And as he and I talk, I notice severeal things - I'm really in MY bed - the bed that belongs to Moria RIGHT NOW, the sheets on the bed are the ones I'm truly sleeping in (and I realize I'm dreaming, too) and that the phone is really cradled against my face like I would hold it - pressed hard to my left ear. Throughout the entire dream are feelings of love, warmth, acceptance, and completeness. These are the dreams that engender the strong desire to sleep forever. Is it as Max Von Sydow says in Wim Wender's "The End of the World", that dreams are our subconscious' attempts at making our own gods? Back to the dreaming - I suggest that he takes me out for my birthday, and that we'll call it a weekend. Mr. Right replies, "That'll be the first time we've ever 'spent the night over' at the other's house."
In response to that is a sultry, "I know!"
As we begin setting the date, the wonderful quality of dreams becomes more evident: it's as if I'm reading the calendar over his shoulder, while at the same time I'm in bed still, talking to him. He notes the date.
"The closest Friday to your birthday is February 22nd. Is that good?"
"That's my mother's birthday (not really, but!). But yes, that will work for a February 28th birthday (truly). Wait. We can't do that. It's almost MAY 28th!!!!(hmmm) We'll have to go out NOW!!!"
The good thing is, he went over his phone number with me to make sure I could call him back. I wrote down the number....just gotta find out if it's kosher or not!!!

One from 15-ish of April?

Something to do with a water park, and my two brothers Todd and Jeff. Cloudy and icky day, really, but with all the water around, and those tremendous water slides, it seemed the ideal thing to do. I believe my former roommate made an appearance, and got me out....did you know a dragonrider from RL (kind of) had brought me to Augusta, and that that's where I was? And we then journey to her house, where Tucker (of all people!) from Ireland (he's not really) was there, waiting on me. And we wound up kissing on the extreme edge of the pavement on the back patio as we tried to hide that fact from my parents, who were in the window looking for me. (But not seeing me there with Tucker.)
Kinky.

Or a fondly remembered dream about Dave Mathews, perhaps?

As luck would have it, I was invited to a performance in the forest.(the first half of the dream has faded, but i think it was something about a summer camp) The stage was elevated on a steep slope, almost like a deck on the back of a house, and that's where Dave Mathews and company were rehearsing. People milled about, seemingly unimpressed about the sounds coming from up there, so up I went. Once there, I realized that I was coughing rather awfully. Dave, who had stopped playing by now, handed me the margarita mug that a peon had just given him, and said, "Here!" and I was quite flattered, and politley refused. "It's yours, though!" "That's what I have people for. Go on, you need it!" he said with a smile, and I finally relented. At that moment, however, what should start emerging from the forest floor but this loud trombone music? (For those who don't know, I play trombone). I go to the lip of the stage (which is quite bare, mind you) and there's Daniel, this freshman at my college (Really) playing scales!!!! AGH!!! So I called down, as both Dave and I were getting quite annoyed, and my band directors, who were on the forest floor chitchatting, for Daniel to shut up. The dream ended before I found out whether he quit or not. So, Dave, the trombone player was Daniel!!!

The Topic Of France

Often in my dreams, if there is a setting that I the conscious viewer of my dreams recognize, I remember and interpret the dream as occurring in France. I do not think that my dreaming self recognizes this, but my conscious self, so does that make me choosing France as the place where I wish to be (I used to live in Paris, after all)or does that mean that it in the dreamworld is a very nice place to be? For example, I dream about France usually in a specific man-made setting: buildings, rooms, escalators, arcades (the real kind, not the video ones), ships and et cet. My dreams with more natural settings such as beaches are more often not specified, although I have had a few where it was "Europe" and that's all that I knew. Hmmm. Vive la France!

The X - Files

Well, I have had four or five dreams about the X Files now, and all I have time to say right now is, "Wasn't Potatoes a GREAT episode!?!?!"