This time Mulder and Scully were investigating a dangerous case (as usual in dreams, details are insignificant) and ended up staking out my apartment. The apartment I lived in was a cross between my real-life apartment and the solarium in the house where I grew up, and it was in Washington, D.C. as opposed to Los Angeles.

I was asleep when Scully kicked down the door to my apartment, breaking the bolts, and entered, pointing her gun in all directions. Mulder mutely trailed behind her. I was asleep and royally peeved to wake up to a broken door and a screaming FBI agent in my house - it never occurred to me to be afraid of the gun Scully was waving around. I immediately screamed at her to tell me what the hell was going on, and she screamed back that my apartment held clues to an important case and would I just shut up and let them investigate.

She and Mulder were especially annoyed that I lived in such a collector's abode - in this dream I had about 10 times the amount of collectible junk and stuffed animals I really own, covering the rooms in stacks 3 rows deep from the walls - and they would have to wade through all this to find what they needed. What makes it even weirder is that I had X-Files memorabilia cluttering the space, and here were two agents that looked just like Mulder and Scully investigating a case in my bedroom! For some reason, that didn't faze them. The pictures of Krycek taped to the walls, however, really set them on edge.

Scully convinced me that my apartment was the key to their solving the case, so I cooperated and Scully calmed down. After their initial search, Scully gave me the number to her cel phone and asked me to call her if I had any information.

In all, Scully and Mulder visited my apartment three times in the dream - again that number 3 - I believe all in the same day. As opposed to reenacting the drama from that morning, the second time they just knocked and asked if I'd seen or heard anything more. Mulder was mostly silent, though not unpleasant, throughout the dream; he seemed to be deferring to Scully's expertise this time (gee, what a concept, eh?). My main connection was with Scully, who seemed to grow very concerned for my safety and at times evoked a maternal attitude towards me.

The third visit was the result of my calling Scully on her cel phone with key information which led to their solving the case. I was apologetic about calling, and she assured me that it was fine, that she was grateful I called. In fact, on their way back to my apartment Scully and Mulder stopped off at a gift shop and bought another stuffed animal to add to my already-burgeoning collection. I made them tea and we chatted, and I took them on the grand tour of my place (never mind that they'd already helped themselves to one that morning!). Mulder and Scully perused my X-F collection, thoroughly amused. After they left, I sat wondering what kind of conversation they were having in their car about my place and how they'd decided which stuffed animal to give me.

The dream ended when I called my freak friend Amy to share my excitement for the day.

A second dream: Later that morning, I dreamt that one of my friends was summarizing the X-Files to someone new to the show until someone else randomly shouted, "But what does this have to do with Chris Carter?!" It makes no sense to me either.

This one was a nightmarish cross between Kafka's Metamorphosis and Disney's "A Bug's Life," which I'd just seen. Mulder had turned into a dung beetle. And not just any dung beetle, but one the size of the cosmos, floating in the sky. Scully had the fun job of saving him by going up in space and cutting the beetle open. Then Mulder emerged from this sticky brown goo - I guess that was the blood. I think this particular dream was so gory because Season 6 so far has been fairly gruesome.

And I swear to you I don't do drugs... though this dream has me wondering if I haven't been sleep-toking or something. ;->

It's Emmy Time and I was sitting in the audience. Apparently the producers had been forced to make some cuts in the budget: instead of the usual dance number or montage or odd tribute, Chris Carter was hired to entertain... with his magic act. I swear this man was pulling rabbits out of his hat and this impressed the audience. I don't know what horrified me more - the fact that he was performing magic on national television, or the fact that he was wearing a sharkskin tuxedo. Ooh, classy.

Later, the X-Files finally won the Best Drama Emmy and Carter proceeded to bore the audience to tears with a 10 minute speech. Remember when Jonathan Demme won the Best Director Oscar for "Silence of the Lambs" and you knew he'd never win another for fear he might give another speech just like that one? Well, this was worse. Chris Carter decided that this was the time to share with the audience the mundane details of his childhood, how this was a defining moment for him, how he'd worked all his life to get this Emmy, and how proud he was of his actors 'cause Gillian was like a daughter to him, oh, and speaking of daughters, can he tell you some more about his lousy childhood? You get the picture. The worst part is that I was sitting across the row from his wife, Dori, who was hiding her head in her hands. Wow. Let's hope that was not a prophetic dream.

Don't ask me why Chris Carter's on the brain, but anyway... I was reading an article in Detour magazine about The Creator which completely re-wrote his autobiography, claiming that he'd grown up dirt-poor and tough as nails in New York. And in the pictures he barely looked like himself - he more closely resembled a pro-wrestler, wearing a torn tank top, he was back to blonde hair, and was buff to the gills. I think this dream was a more a reference to interviews with David Duchovny because CC was pictured playing basketball. And just to get that authentic feel, he was pictured shooting hoops in his old 'hood - that being the Bronx.

I believe this dream qualifies as a nightmare.

I finally had the chance to meet my favorite actor on the show, Nicholas Lea on Tuesday, December 1 and saw him again that Tuesday. That night, I had another X-Files dream. You think I dreamt about Nick? Oh, no. I went home and dreamt about Chris Carter again! :-P I gotta get out of this rut... oh, what the hell - these dreams are so funny, and I have to admit I miss them when I go through long bouts without one - is that sick or what? ;->

In this dream, Chris had finally directed his pet project - a loving homage/docu-drama about surfers. Unfortunately, it failed miserably at the box office - even the X-Philes were avoiding this one! On top of that, during the time he was directing the movie, the quality of the X-Files deteriorated without the full attention of its Creator - it had degenerated into a pale imitation of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer." I woke up just as Scully was plowing a stake into someone's heart.

I had 3 X-Files-related dreams this past weekend, each at extreme ends of the emotional spectrum. First, a very sad one. Stacey O., the webmistress of the Carter Connection and my online friend passed away Thursday, December 17, and I learned the news the following day (my tribute to Stacey is here if you care to see it). That night, I had what I call a "mood dream." It didn't have a plot per se and didn't flow in any coherent order; it was more like a slide show of sorrowful, angry and confused images of Philes grieving online for Stacey. Not only was I dreaming about the posts on the Internet, but I could also see the faces of mourning Philes in quick succession.

In this one, my friend, Diane, had managed to acquire from another friend some super-secret book called How to Meet Celebrities and How to Act Once You Find Them. She decided to visit me in LA and test out the book on the X-Files, with her eye on Nick Lea in particular.

I know that Diane was successful in her quest. But since I'd already met Nick, I went off to run errands while she was out Nick-hunting so she could have her "moment" with Nick privately. So I didn't get to find out exactly how it happened before I awoke.

These dreams culminated in one where Mulder proposed to Scully. But instead of a ring, he gave her a diamond bracelet... not sure what that's all about.

I woke up before she gave him an answer (of course!) but she was looking pretty excited - like she knew what he was about to ask - it was the same smile she had in the last scene in "How the Ghosts Stole Christmas." Interpret that however you will. ;->

When I woke up I immediately assumed that Scully was going to say yes. But then it occurred to the cynic in me that maybe she was smiling because she was going say no and run off to hock the bracelet before Mulder could catch her. Baby gets new Italian shoes this Christmas. ;-> One friend's comment, "Hey, if Mulder is so thick in the head that he thinks 'bracelet' instead of 'ring' for a marriage proposal, he deserves to hold the short end of his stick (er.. I mean THE stick)."

Freak No. 2's comment, "It was probably cubic zirconia anyway."

In this dream, I had picked up the British magazine "Time Out" at a supermarket (not that we can find those here in supermarkets - I must have been in London) - in which there was an article on Nick written by a fellow Nick fan, Laurie. The article describe a "lost episode" of the X-Files - Ten Thirteen had finally made a Krycek-centric episode. Unfortunately, it turned out so bad that it never aired. There was a quote from Nick saying that a new writer had written the episode, and it had gone so far as filming, but Chris Carter "hated it." Nick was upset, but he mentioned that he always put his full faith in Chris' judgment and he'd get over it.

In this brief dream, I was visiting a fellow Phile's house. It turned out she had kept in her freezer some of the heart-shaped hail froom "Rain King," as souvenirs. The rest of the dream was spent putting a batch in a cooler for me to add to my own collection.

Lame, I know - but they can't all be about having Gillian over for pie!

(Click for the full picture. Courtesy of Hollywood Book and Poster)

The night before the X-Files seminar (otherwise known as Xeminar), I dreamt that Imajiru (who was my house guest in real life) and I visited the offices of Ten Thirteen. X-Files writer John Shiban had just finished the first draft of his latest script and for some odd reason he really wanted Imajiru's and my opinion of it. After we read it, he asked, "How can I improve it?" We answered in unison, "Make it slashier." Not missing a beat, John replied, "Okay." Sigh. If only it were that easy. ;->

Well, it seems these days that I'm having shorter and shorter dreams - snippet dreams, I call them. Damn, I miss those opus dreams. Ah, well. I wasn't going to include these on the page, but what the hell:

It appears having Imajiru visit is a good thing, because she came to visit me again and I had two more snippet dreams. The first came on the heels of David Duchovny's infamous interview for Esquire- the one for which he ended up having to apologize to organizations like GLADD. In this dream, David and I were fellow graduate students at Yale in the late '80s (this never happened, by the way. I was an undergrad a year after he left). I was studying to become a psychiatrist and conducting research on why certain people are prone to say stupid things in public. David was the first test subject towards my degree. Fast-foward to 1999: I was asked to review my research in light of the recent interview and make recommendations to help David fetter his uncontrollable need to open mouth and insert foot. I can't tell you if it helped. But this is Dreamland, so let's just say it did.

The following Friday night, I dreamt that Nicholas Lea was trying to get my friends and me into the X-Files wrap party (which in real life was happening in LA that Saturday night, though I don't know where). It didn't work. But nice of him to try. ;->