New York

In New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of there's nothing you can't do, now you're in New York, these streets will make you feel brand new, big lights will inspire you, let's hear it for New York

Last night I dreamt i was living in New York, and I woke up with the above lyrics running through my head.

I dreamt I was working for Saturday Night Live. I didn't really get how big it was that I was working for Saturday Night Live. It's like, yeah, I got in, whatever.

I felt a little bored with it. I was walking there with someone else, maybe Tina Fey, and was just like, eh. Another day at work. Here we go.

It seemed I was watching myself as an outside observer, because as I watched myself go into Rockefeller Plaza, I felt so excited for me. Oh my gosh, I thought, can't you see this is a step in the right direction! Everybody starts at this point! How great!

The self that was living it in the dream, though, was frustrated. Sketches I was presenting were getting picked, but it was so easy, no challenge. But nothing seemed to be happening for me outside of Saturday Night Live - it's like, I got here, I thought I had to get here, but my career is not taking off. W. T. F??? Like so many other comedians before, I got to this point where I thought everything was just going to magically happen. But it doesn't anymore. You go to SNL and still have to make your own way. Nothing just "happens" for anyone. We all have to make our own way.

I woke up feeling both encouraged and discouraged; like, maybe the things I think in life aren't helping me might be doing more good than I realize, as well as, I shouldn't put too much emphasis on outside sources for producing my work. Or, to worry about location. Just because I'm living in Chicago, or New York, or Montreal for that matter does not affect my ability to do my creative endeavors. Only I do.

That's it for today. Thanks for listening.

High School Friends

Last night I dreamt I was in college and rooming with a friend of mine from high school.

How life actually went is that for some reason, everyone decided they didn't like this girl our senior year. She was smart, funny, attractive, and daddy had plenty of money. And I suppose that was the problem - while everyone else in our class who had money worked for other people, this girl's dad owned his own profitable business. So while being one of the rich kid's was desirable, when people realized how well her dad was doing of his own accord, I think maybe nobody knew what to do about it. And as most things get settled, the parent's didn't express their frustration and/or amazement directly to her parents. They must have expressed it to us kids. And we took care of it from there - the girls, basically abaondoning her; the boys, relentlessly toilet papering their house and otherwise making life bothersome.

The thing is - I really liked her. When we started hanging out in high school, there was an ease with each other that I had really never known before. It was so easy being friends with her, that it was just as easy to let her go. We all moved on to college, and while we tried a few times to get together, we just never maintained a close friendship.

At our class reunion a few years back, she and I and two of our other friends from high school, who had soured to each other, just naturally drifted back by each other for the night. I meant to tell her afterwards how much I enjoyed hanging out with her. But, of course, I didn't. We've never connected.

Well, last night, I feel I had a healing dream about her. I've been having a lot of these lately.

I dreamt that she and I and my other friend from high school ended up going to the same college together. We were all living in the dorms together, and had a bunch of our high school guy and girl friends come up for a party.

The party was put together well. The people ... they were a trainwreck. Guys who I thought had it all together were a complete mess, guys who seemed like losers turned out to be really fun at this party.

Though the party was big, she and I and our other friend always seemed to have each other in check as we went along. I broke away for a while, but I found my way back to them after realizing how much I was not enjoying myself hanging out with the other people.

That was it. I woke up feeling so connected, like I have these girlfriends that I don't even know about, or simply don't let myself access. Like the dream was showing me that I might be part of the reason why I feel like I don't have a strong support system right. The dream felt good - shook me up in a good way. That's all for today. Thanks for listening.

Ceiling to Fall in Around Me.

The night before last I dreamt that I was living in an apartment, kind of a nice old vintage place. There was a knock on the door; I answer. It's a delivery person.

He says your dad has asked that someone be sent over for you. I have no idea what he's talking about. The guy goes directly into the spare bedroom and looks up at the ceiling.

I look up at the ceiling - it's got a huge, sagging belly in it, that is purple, black and blue and green and fushia - basically, very dark jewel tone colors. It is obviously saturated, and it looks like it could fall in at any moment. But it won't fall. Somehow I know it won't fall. But, it's not in good shape. My house has somethings festering in it, that i have been turning a blind eye to or am oblivious too, but is right there. My house needs to be worked on, and I have been ignoring it. And it seems my Dad had been praying someone would help me get my house in order.

How did I feel in this dream? Surprised and more than a little scared. I took the bulging belly in the ceiling to be my own bulging belly and all my extra weight kind of creating a sess-pool like situation in my intestines. The room in the apartment was in the center of my house; and it was only not used because I ignored using it. It was prominently located and could easily be used all the time. I just chose to ignore it. I took it as a strong warning to get back into a diet and exercise regimine.

The One

I dreamt I was meeting my best friend from high school out for dinner.

It was an outdoor patio of a modest but nice restaurant, it felt like a smaller town, not the Big City that I currently live in.

I knew that I was meeting her as well as another guy friend for dinner. The guy friend - the one in the dream does not exist in waking life; or at least, not in my current knowledge base.

I am the last to arrive at the table, and I am pleased to see S is there. Ah, S. I have been enamored of S since the moment I met him seven years ago. We have a mutual attraction; but we've never dated. Either he was with someone or I was with someone.

We are both single now. I think - I know I am. His facebook status says he is, but who knows. The only hold up at this point - in my mind, it's my current weight. There is no way he'd love me the way I look currently. At least, that's my belief. And it's probably somewhat true. At least, I would have a really hard time believing he could love me at my current weight. Shouldn't think that way. But I do.

In the dream, I was still heavy, but not as much as I weigh now. More like 180, which gets me back down into the line j u s t into the healthy weight range; still "overweight," but leaning towards healthy. Thin enough where I again believe it possible for a man to want to be with me.

So, S is at the table, too. I was not expecting him - our mutual guy friend invited him to dinner with us. I sit down, we order, and dinner begins.

We are, all of us, getting along like nothing before. S and I still have the same chemistry we alwyas did. My best friend and the guy friend in the dream are secretly exchanging glances - they were hoping S and I would remember how good we are together. It was proving to be true.

Dinner ends and we are going somewhere else. We all get into a little tiny stick-shift car, like a little european car. The four of us are in this vehicle, and we are going up a very steep hill. The car struggles with the weight of us - or rather, to me, it's under the excess weight of me. I am embarrassed to be such a burden on the group. No one says this, but I feel that it must be so. Somehow, I know S thinks this. But, he does not mind. I am horrified at the experience. As I look around, no one else seems bothered a bit. I am surprised.

We arrive at the top of the hill to our destination: a mini-golf place slash bowling alley. I am excited - we are doing something chotchky and fun and phsyical together as a group! I love it! I am really excited to be here, I am really excited to be with S. I feel something has reignited between us. We are a little shy with each other in the dream, but I feel like it's moving in the right direction. There is a point in the dream where the guy friend asks how I'm doing. I answer: "I'm. exhuberant." In the dream, I know that S takes that to mean it's about seeing him. It is. I feel happy and that all is right with the world.

Peace with Annie

Last nigth I dreamt that my ex-boyfriend's wife and I made peace.

Not that we are in a war now. However, quick background is that he and I had met and dated in college, and for the immediate years out of college; about six years total. I had tried to break up with him a hundred times. He just kept telling me I needed to try harder. Finally, after six years of trying harder just to want to stay with him, I decided that I had tried hard enough. I moved out of state and across the country. He came out to visit and proposed. I said no. I never heard from him again.

Until he wrote me two years later to let me know that he had married. And that he just wanted to see how I was doing. Other drama ensued, but let's summize this to say that what he really needed was to say goodbye to me. So we said goodbye. End of story.

Last night I dreamt I was in my small Wisconsin hometown - visually, it was my home town. But we called it Milwaukee.

Summerfest was going on. I was in a hotel in this part of town, I guess to me it's kind of a void part of town, it's the highest point in the city, and that's generally where the fancy people choose to put their houses. At one point in the city's history, they did. And then for some reason, that part of town just never took off. I never understood it, even as a kid, that area of the city always seemed like it could be so much more. Could be worth more, developed more. But no. It's these fancy houses mingled in with lower income builds.

So I'm at this hotel, but I look down the hill and can see the lights from Summerfest in the near distance. I think, oh, it would be fun to be down there. I am at a party at this hotel, and they have a TV screen showing the different concerts playing around the grounds. One of the concerts playing is Pearl Jam. I laugh to myself and think, oh, i wonder if my ex is there.

Sure enough, the camera scans the crowd, and he's right down in front, his hair fashioned very 1980's glam punk. He's wearing a flannel, which was more accurate for Pearl Jam's time, but over it he has on a studded leather jacket and frosted jeans and combat boots. Very punk. He appears to be alone at the concert, but having a great time.

Somehow I am instantly at this house that, in the dream, he and his friends had lived in just out of college. There was a house in Milwaukee where they had lived, it was not the house in the dream, but in the dream, this was the place; a skinny old three story victorian home where an auto parts store currently is. Another mystery to me - I never understood how that shop stayed in business. Nobody ever went there. But it did, for years and years. In the dream, this business was replaced by his house. I registered that change in the dream as well.

So I'm now standing on a balcony of this house, on the southeast side of the house, which in the dream faces the Summerfest Grounds. The house seems to be vacant, but owned, like maybe he still owns it but simply isn't living there currently.

His wife is standing in the living room when I come downstairs. Neither of us are surprised to see the other; nor are either of us upset that the other is there. It's like she knows I have access to the house and I have a right to it, that I don't use it often, but that I sometimes do.

She and I sit in the living room and chat for a moment. In real life, his wife is blond haired, blue eyed, and very round; round face, soft round body. In the dream, she was this girl I worked on a kitchen with in my day job; brown hair, dark green eyes, tall and atheletically built. Could be my mirror image, actually, although in the dream she was much taller than me.

She and I get chatting. I'm telling her stories of when we all lived there out of college. She is enjoying the stories. She's their with their daughter, who looks about six. In real life, they have two sons and no girl.

The daughter plays amiably while her mom and I chat. We walk through the house; she is here looking at it because she is thinking that this would be a nice place for them to raise their family, and she is seeing how much work needs to be done on the house to determine if it's worth the move.

She and I walk, and we are now on a wooded train track, which seems to fun into the living room of this house. She and their daughter and I walk along the track. She's being nice to me, and I seem clueless that she has ulterior motives - as in, she's only being nice because she sees that that is the only way she can get me to understand. I need to let go of the house. For some reason, they cannot move into this house or even sell the house until she has my sign off. Although I am not in his life, and I don't live in this empty house, it seems I still have a stake or hold on it. She needs me to let go of my hold on his property.

We think we hear a train coming, and race back to the living room, where apparently it's safe. She ran and didn't seem to have concern for her daughter; I ended up making sure the daughter was keeping up and not getting left behind.

We get in the living room, and we both sit down on the couch that remains in the room. Late afternoon light filters in through the sheer curtains that remain on the windows. Only, she and I are not sitting on the couch; we are both laying on the couch; her head at one end and mine at the other. We are on our backs, like at a psychologist's couch. Our feet both occupy the middle, our bodies kind of fit in next to each other and we fit quite comfortably.

I am enjoying being this way with her. It feels like the position old girlfriends would sit in and talk and have girl talk. I am so glad she is making peace with me. I felt since I met her that we could probably be good friends if we had met under different circumstances.

We talk for a bit, she is primarily dominating the conversation. She is very polite and very nice. She says she's sorry she has to cut it short, but she has to get back to Minnesota, where they live. She and her daughter leave.

I am left feeling like I just had a chinese dinner - I thought I was full, thought I got nourished, but I now feel totally empty. I stand in the doorway in the living room watching them leave. I realize she was being nice to get rid of me, not to be nice to me. I realize she is not capable of being nice - not just to me, that it's hard for her to be anything other than fake nice to people. I feel forgiveness for her and realize that she and I will never be friends - not because she won't let me be. But because I don't need to be. I think, my psychic was wrong - we could be friends. It's just not my preference. I'm glad I got to spend time with her to learn that.

That's all for today. Thanks.

Last night. I dreamt I was in a house with Mike. It was in a small town, like a bedroom community. His parents were wondering what was keeping him with me, why he couldn't move on. This has been happening in other dreams with him; it felt like my boyfriend before him, this connection to him that isn't happy but doesn't break.

We take a trip with each other, as if something will happen on that trip to jog our minds into realizing we love each other. We embark. Nothing changes, except that now we're on a trip. But no emotions change.

It's Sunday morning, and I decide we should go to church. The one we go to is connected to a college, feels like Northwestern. It's more education-based than spirit based.

Brian is inside. His wife and daughter's are not, it's like they couldn't make it. Brian's in there sitting next to a few others of our family.

I go to sit next to them. I really want to talk to Brian, but we are in church and it's not allowed. He is dirty, like he'd been working with plants and came over without showering.

I don't feel like a part of the family. I try, but I just don't feel a part. I don't feel Mike and I should continue trying to hang out anymore either. I feel OK with both of these situations. It makes me a little sad, but overall I feel free.

Speaking Engagement

Last night's dream:

I dreamt I was at work, and a woman comes up to me and tells me that I will be doing the speaking for a presentation at a local college. I think, how nice of them to pick me.

I'm not sure how they picked me or why, but I was given the task and I certainly felt up to it. However, there was no other information than that - I was just told to arrive at 7:30 p.m. to deliver the piece.

It's currently a little after 2 p.m., and I know I have five hours until the engagement. I finish up work. I mention to someone that I am going to be going to the college, and Chuck and some guys from work say, oh, we'll give you a ride up there.

Great, I think. I get into the car with them. Chuck is drunk and can barely drive. No one else in the car seems to mind. I'm in the back seat, I think three other guys from work are in the car, and they either don't care or don't want to say anything.

I'm getting frustrated - I need to get to this engagement. We are stopped at a light, and I say, "Chuck, do you want me to drive?" He sloppily nods yes.

I get out of the car, I'm in the back seat passenger side and go around the back of the car to get into the drivers seat. Chuck maybe passed out, I'm not sure where Chuck went, but traffic started moving and the car started moving without anybody steering the vehicle. The car mostly stayed with traffic on it's own, but it would bump people ahead of it. It fell a bit into the other lane. Finally, it seemed to just take off on it's own. I couldn't catch up to it. And then it was gone. I remember thinking I wonder if they are steering it from the back seat, but it was gone and I couldn't catch up.

So I'm left to get to the college on my own. I jog there, I remember trying to really run and feeling this feeling I often feel in real life, that I want to go faster than it seems my body can go. I get to the college, and find the auditorium.

It's currently 7:20. The engagement starts at 7:30. I walk in to the room I'm told it's to be, and I'm told nothing. There is a full house audience of probably a few hundred people. Tracy from work is there, and says, this is where you'll be speaking. I say, are you sure? I was going to go check the other auditorium and make sure it's not there. Tracy sighs and says fine, you're wasting your time, but if it makes you feel better go ahead.

I walk over to the other auditorium, and it's full up with a piano concert. I ask the woman behind the stage if there were any other shows that night, like maybe after them. She says, no, this is our stage for the night. I think, hm, then I guess I must be the speaker at the other one.

I go back over. It is now 7:25. A woman, a very tall and solidly built woman in a muted royal blue suit hands me a ream-thick packet of papers. This is what I will be covering in tonight's speaking engagement. I look at the title: Woman as God, a history. I think, oh my gosh. Why didn't she tell me I would have to be covering all this. I need to read through this! Do we have any visual aids? I notice they are handing the same packets out to everyone. I think, why are they handing out my copy of the speech? Why do I even need to read this if they are already handing it out?

I start looking at the copy, and some of the charts and graphs. I think, oh, this would have made a great, large visual aid. That would have been great as this. I think, man, I really wasted the last five hours - if she would have let me know that I'd be covering this, I could have really added some flair. But I am not. I am given the material and am to make the most of the time with this audience. I feel confident I can do it. I only feel bad that I am not better prepared for my audience. Even though I feel like the audience will enjoy my performance, and I am going to make sure I don't call out the areas in which I am unprepared, I feel bad that I could have done more. But then I think - no, because she didn't give me the info until now. I'm doing the best I can.

I go up on the stage. I meant to sit behind the curtain for the remaining five minutes and quickly scan the information. I realize there is no way for me to do that. I open the curtain, and look for a podium. There is only a little piano, like the piano guy on Peanuts. I take that down and set it next to me. I laugh at the absurdity of it's size.

I look up - the entire audience is watching me and enthralled with what I'm doing. I look at the clock - it's about 7:26. I say to the audience, because I still want to read over what I will be speaking about, We've got about five minutes until the show is to start, plus we should allow some time for late comers. We'll get started about 7:32, 7:33.

I sit down on the stage next to the piano and peruse my materials. This looks like really interesting stuff. I look back up at the clock - no more than maybe ten seconds has passed, and the clock reads 7:31! I think, that's not possible, the gods are playing tricks on me! Don't they want me to be prepared! Don't they want me to present this material in the best way possible? The clock ticks to 7:32. I say apparently not. I stand up, and begin on page one.

End of dream.

Nothing

Had a very active dreamstate last night. Woke this morning can't remember a one.
Drives me bonkers.

Cemetary Oprah

Last night I dreamt that Oprah was running a large project out of the cemetary of the church my family and I went to growing up.

I've had many dreams about things taking place in out church cemetary. I think what that particular cemetary represents is a place that most people find scary, but that we, or maybe I should say "I," because I'm not sure what the other kids at my church felt about it, but for me, our church cemetary was a place to run free - at church festivals, it was the place where us kids could go and do as we pleased while the adults hung out either in the beer tent - mostly the men; and while the women stayed in the church basement getting everything cleaned up from the money-raising meal they had just served. It was a little more egalitarian than that - there were men who'd help clean up, and had been outside cooking the meat, but witnessing it from a kid's perspective, the lines were drawn there.

For us kids, we had worked our part of the picnic, and were set free after our work was done and while the adults were all either cleaning up or having fun of their own. I don't recall having a specific adult assigned to watch over us; we just were allowed to play unsupervised. However, there were certain rules: we couldn't run by the beer tent or we'd get yelled at. We had to have decorum in the basement, where our paying guests were. So the cemetary. The cemetary meant freedom, play, and privacy from scrutinizing eyes and scolding mouths. It meant sharing the toys we had won at the "fishing pond" game. It meant joy. It meant fun. It meant confident abandon.

So, I'm in the lower end of our church cemetary. I'm feeling very lazy, like I'm just sitting around waiting for the go ahead on some project, and I'm not trying to make myself useful in other capacities in the mean time - I'm just waiting for this project to begin. Oprah is at a desk set up about 50 feet in from the road, at the bottom corner of the cemetary. It seems we are creating a large project; I somehow knew it was time to report for duty, and in the dream I had to go in through a door to get to Oprah's outdoor, make shift office there in the cemetary. I felt so lazy when I saw Oprah working; she wasn't frantically getting her stuff done, but she was consistently getting her stuff done. I, on the other hand, knew I was very hit or miss with completing goals. Oprah seemed to know this about me, and yet somehow we both knew that she didn't have an option to have me work on this project or not to work on this project - I was simply assigned this project and I'd have to learn how to work better myself. Oprah seemed to know that it wasn't her problem to try to tell me I need to be more effecient and consistent. It was my problem to become more efficient and consistent.

The project feels like one of those "We Are The World" type deals; she has Jennifer Anniston and two other current celebreties working on this project with her. It seems each of these celebrities is matched up with a mentor of sorts, it seems they are each paired up with their own talk show host who is of the same strength and caliber as Oprah. I don't know who these other talk show hosts are, and I can't remember the other celebrities. I see what looks like a two-page spread in a magazine with at least 30 female celebrities standing together - equally separated, each was standing out on their own, but the feeling of the spread was that together they were something different, something more than they were individually yet their individual difference were necessary for the whole of the project. It seems the photo was taken in our church cemetary, but toward the eastern end of the cemetary, at the top of the rise; the church sits at the top of a hill, and the cemetary kind of falls off on the sloping hill on the west side of the church. I'm wondering if different areas of the cemetary mean different things - that bottom corner where Oprah's office was was very quiet and undisturubed - nobody hung out there, for some reason. And the area between the church and where the cemetary began; it's like it was a void, or maybe it was a void because energetically speaking it was the line between the church and the cemetary, so we just knew it was too close to the church to be appropriate to play there. Like, you had to go back to being more reverential to be there.

The overall feeling I got was that I was assigned this project - Oprah knew it and I knew it - and we were both uneasy about me completing my part of it. However, at the same time, we both knew that it was for me to do - she couldn't manage me, or run me, or make me do my job. My lazy and laxidaizical attitude was for me and me alone to change. Like that was part of my growth; her only concern was doing her best, and the project would turn out as it was supposed to. A sort of Let Go and Let God project management philosophy and execution strategy.

That's all for today. Feels like a pretty good dream.

Mish Mash

I just woke up from the following dream:

My family and some others were in a large restaurant banquet room, eating a meal. It felt like a celebration dinner, like maybe a wedding or a baby's birth, because there was a bit of excitement and celebration in the room. Maybe it was just a church dinner and everyone was very happy.

There was my family and some other families, all seated together and mixed up, like what happens at church dinners where they just seat you where they can fit you.

There was a hispanic woman, she seemed to really stand out from the rest of the crowd. In the dream, she was wearing all black, a very sleek, upscale outfit. Everyone else was wearing tan and white, or at least very washed out colors, and kind of washed out styles - men were wearing short-sleeved dress shirts, women had on knit tops and unfashionable pants.

The hispanic woman was trying to eat, but her toddler didn't want to sit still. It seemed the woman's mother was with her, but she was of no help - she was lying on the floor in an open area just behind the table the woman was sitting. It was like she was either dead or taking a nap, but it caused no concern to either the hispanic woman in black or anyone else who was trying to eat.

The toddler kept going between the two of them - she was sad and I kept thinking, she just wants to be held! Just hold her and give her a hug! But the hispanic woman was trying to eat and was frustrated with having to care for this little girl.

The little girl would then go to the woman on the floor. But she was none-responsive. The little girl would flop down onto the woman on the floors' chest, and try to hug her and cry it out a little; no response from the woman. So the toddler would go to her mom, but her mom was eating, and REALLY getting annoyed with this little girl.

Finally, after the little girl went back and forth between the unresponsive mother and the eating mother, the eating mother *smacked*! the toddler across the face. Open hand, and brutal.

I was sitting across the room, watching this take place. The toddler screamed in tears and ran over to the unresponsive mother. Again, no comfort. The toddler lay there, chest heaving, sobbing. It was so clear to me, she just wanted to be held and loved and played with, and no one would do that with her.

At that point, the mood in the room changed, and the hispanic woman picked up on it. The rest of the people in the room didn't say anything, but they did not approve of her slapping her child like that. Their energy seemed to be telling her that it was not cool to do that.

Maybe the little girl picked up on that change, too, for she went to her mother then, still breathing heavy from her tears. The mother this time picked her up, and the little girl snuggled into her shoulder.

As the mother stood to pick up her daughter, it was now visible that she was about 7 months pregnant, and didn't really have "room" for the daughter, the baby, and the table. But somehow she made it fit. She continued to eat as her daughter gained some comfort from now being held; although, she still wasn't the mother's primary concern. But as I watched in the dream, I realized that everybody gets it at some point.

******

Another dream from last night? There were two more and I can't remember them now. Guess that's all for today.

Cleaning House/Time to Go

Last night I dreamt I was at my college boyfriend's parents' house. They were doing some spring cleaning, and getting rid of old stuff of mine that they had found.

I dreamt their house was a townhome - this was not what their house was, but in the dream it was. It was nestled into the end of a cut-off street here in Chicago. The one that comes to mind is down on Wells street, south of North Ave., where a little side street is blocked off and converted into a version of a small park, with a statue or fountain, a couple large container pots for seasonal plants, and a couple benches.

It was his parents, but my friend Mike was him in the dream.

It went like this; I don't know why I was there, but I was, and nobody was concerned or found it strange. Mike takes me inside the house, and we are just hanging out, not doing much of anything. Then, his parents - my exes parents - come home. They are quite nice to me, and act like there's nothing odd about seeing me after ten years of their son and I being broken up.

In fact, they are glad to see me - they found a bunch of my stuff while they were cleaning, and set it aside. And here I was; I could take it with! They tell Mike to show me my stuff so I can take it away.

In the dream, their house looked like a brick townhome from the outside, but from the inside, it was a split level. The stranger part was that the basement was completely open and shared between two units of the townhome. They shared the basement with my ex's parents' best friends.

His parents lead Mike downstairs to show him what needs to get removed. We walk all the way from the front of the long house's basement, around their friend's side, and back to where we started, to a ladder that seemed to be going into an attic hole in the ceiling.

Along the way, I comment to his parents how much I like how they furnished the downstairs. There were areas of the basement that he seemed to have dug down into the ground, with make shift stairs. In one of these little areas, he put a bar room-style dart board machine. In another was a little bar, with an ornate bar to sit at and back wall mirrored and full of liquor bottles. There was a pool table, as well, mixed in with other stuff that you would find in a typical basement. It was as if they were trying to make a living area out of storage space, and couldn't seem to cleanly separate the two.

Finally, Mike shows me my stuff. There was nothing of great importance - some pictures I had colored from a coloring book with my ex during a playful weekend together. Some other doodlings. And that was all; about 15 pieces of paper that, in all honestly, had they just thrown them out, I would never have known the difference.

I look through them, and they REALLY want me to take them and get rid of them. Like these items have been holding them back from having the organizational nirvana that they seek. I look around at their moderately disorganized basement and think; well, it was very nice of them to not throw away my stuff until I determine what needs to be done with it. But seriously, this is the least of their troubles. Why bother? Just get rid of it.

I take the papers. It seemed to have been the last remaining thing holding us together. I leave. They are not pushing me out the door, they aren't cursing me or telling me to move the fuck on. They just calmly let me go as I am ready. I realize it's time. I leave.

Dealing with Mistakes and Catching Up

Last night I had a dream that I was back in the gymnasium of my grade school. We were putting on a show - we were all adults, but we were putting on a show for our parents like we used to do shows back in school.

This one girl I used to be friends with had brought a script that she thought was funny, and put me in it. She hadn't thought much about putting me in it except that I was reliable and would help her with it. What she hadn't planned on was me stealing the show. I didn't necessarily try to steal the show, I just did my part to the best of my ability, and the audience loved it. They enjoyed her part, but they loved my part.

There was a part where the other person didn't give me the right cue, and I had to get my line. Other people were mortified for me, but I wasn't. The guy goofed and I let the house know it. It occured to me that I needed to make us all look good, instead of trying to call out someone's mistake - and mistake is a loose term. He just forgot a line. I was very unforgiving.

My mom was there, watching. She saw how unforgiving I was, and I instantly had this image of that friend who was mentioned before playing volleyball. In sports, everybody works to get the ball where it needs to go, to score, to overcome somebody else's - maybe due to lack of skill or maybe just a simple error - play mistake to make the team look good. My mom seemed to be thinking that maybe it would have been good for me to play volleyball. Maybe then I would have learned that making the team look good was the key - not pointing out how everyone else goofed and that I did all my stuff right, but the overall result was the team's collapse. She seemed to think I was a little hard on myself and other people, and she wishes I would have learned some of that forgiveness growing up.

There have been some other dreams over the last couple weeks, but I haven't written them down. I was hoping I'd remember a couple of them. Well, if I do I'll come back to this. Thanks for listening.

The House

I really want to get this dream down. I loved it. I'd love it if this dream came true.

I dreamt that I found a house to live in. It was on the South Side of Chicago, which, if you are white and not originally from Chicago, you are told that this is a "rough" side of town and would not be likely to choose a home there.

In the dream, I found this neighborhood, and it felt very safe. It felt happy. It felt like home, like a place I'd want to become a part of the neighborhood and the community.

The house itself was great. It was a small ranch house, and while it was tiny, it had everything in it I needed. In the dream, I had found it and bought it on my own, and I had invited Mike down to see it. So it was already a done deal. I was just showing it to Mike because I was very proud of the find.

We pull up into the driveway. The house faced east, and the small, one-car garage, was on the north end of the lot. The garage door was on the west side of the structure so it looked like part of the house from the front - you had to pull in and then turn to get into the garage.

From there, there was a little mud room that you entered the house through. It was a large room, very sunny and inviting. Then, it came into a small dining area that was attached to the kitchen, and faced the small living room.

Continuing south through the house, there was one bedroom. This was apparently the bedroom that the teenaged son had. It seems like I got the house as a repo or as a property that the owners no longer could afford or wanted so I got it really cheap because it was abandoned and most of the previous owners belongings were still in the house. I didn't find this as a negative - a lot of the stuff was from the 1970s, and looked pretty cool.

Some of the rooms were empty, and some were full. For example, the garage was pretty much empty, there were a few gardening tools, but it was pretty open. The mud room had three bikes in it. I thought that was awesome, not only because they were there but it was showing me a way to use the space I hadn't thought of. There was alos a washer and dryer in the mud room. I liked that, too. There were also hooks to hang coats on. It was a large space, very inviting.

The living room had some furniture, but not much. The dining area had a small round table, with one of those old-fashioned sea-captain type table and chair sets. The kitchen was fine, I didn't feel I needed to go in and remodel it right away.

Ok, so now we go into the boys room. It was stuffed with electronics - a computer, audio equipment, a boom mic in the ceiling. All this technology stuff that I didn't know about. And it was all here for me - I could make money on this stuff! I didn't know what half of it was, but it was something that I looked forward to learning and making some money while I learned. I was excited.

The boy's room was painted a pale blue, and the attached bathroom was painted blue, also. But a stronger blue. Blue tiles, blue tub. I remember thinking it was going to need some updating, but that I could work with it and make it look cool. It was mine! All Mine! I was so happy and excited to go to work on this house!

Then, next to his room was another room, nothing in this one. I don't even remember if it was painted, maybe it was just tan or something. I think I remember thinking three bedrooms, very nice.

Maybe that was the master bedroom, because we went through that empty room into the master bath. This room reminded me of the bathroom in the movie The Hangover. It was very large, and everything in this room was elaborate, but elaborate from the 1970s. There was a huge whirlpool tub that the floor actually slanted down into. It was a brown and cream swirl, like cultered marble. The whole bathroom was like this. Again, I was so happy with the space that I had, the color palette did not bother me.

Then, we head back north and go through the living room, which was pretty much empty. But next to that was a fully furnished room, which I somehow knew was decorated by the man of the house. I had feelings on the people who had lived there, but I had never met them. I loved this room especially. It faced east, and the whole eastern wall was large windows starting at about chair height.

There were two couches in the room - one was a pale mauve, almost grey-lavender looking, very clean line but with a vintage art-deco touch. That was on the south wall of the room. Across from it was a forrest green couch, with pink and mauve decoroator braid trim. The fabrics seemed to be velvet. The windows had dark green curtains going floor to ceiling, and they were the one color, but the texture was a brocade. Then, across from the windows on the west wall, was a large wooden bookcase, painted black. All the books were gone from it - which I did find a little interesting, they valued their books (knowledge?), but left the (material?) couches behind.

The bookcases were beautiful - they were not built-in officially, they were freestanding units attached to the wall and fit the space to perfectly they looked built in. the top parts of them - well, let's see. I'd say they were each about 42 inches wide, and let's say 84" tall. The top 54" inches of them were bookcase, the lower part had feet that were thin and about 18" tall, and then there were door'd cabinets between the feet and where the bookcase began. Again, painted in a black satin, they were exquisite, as there was slight curving and turnings on them as detail. I loved it. In front of these empty bookcases was a large, low chair. The seat and back had a dark berry colored velvet seat covering, the arms were dark wood, carved with flowers and other details. Like a barrel chair, with carvings. It was lovely. I loved this room the most, and it was the smallest. It was a library! How cool, I thought, that this little tiny house could find space for a modest library.

There was an open yard outside, which faced a busy street. Salem and Euchre were with us, and Euchre jumped out the front door, which was in the living room, when we went to go check out the lawn. I grabbed him, and remembered thinking that was the only flaw, that there was no fence around it, and if I put one up, what would the neighbors think? I'd have to tell them it was to keep the cats safe...

Anyway, I was oh so happy in the dream. It was a tiny little house ... and it was mine. I was so happy. So happy. So happy. Between Mike and I, there was a feeling of the ability that we could each let go now, that Mike could see that I was safe and he didn't need to take care of me any longer.

I loved that house. Really I did. I'd love it if I could find one like that in real life. Thank you gods for giving me that image - it's something I can think of and it makes me happy. Maybe we can manifest that house. Thanks for letting me share that. Have a great day.

Mish Mosh

Last night I had a dream with my mom, who's now crossed over, and about a self-help group I used to do work with.

The one part, I was at a lake near Las Vegas. I've dreamt about this same local before, I don't know if it exists in real life, but in the previous dreams, there were bluffs and cliffs surrouding the lake, and in this dream, those same bluffs and cliffs were now 20 story buildings and hotels.

There was a lot of people in the water. I got out of the water, onto a little floating oasis. This oasis instantly turned into the inside of the condo of a life coach I used to work with. I never saw the inside of her condo, but in the dream this was it.

She was having a small party, and many of the people who I knew from taking classes at her place of employment - let's call it The Institution of Wong - were there. I saw one couple that I knew, and the wife was talking to the group about how unhappy she was in their marriage. The husband looked bothered by her share - this was a funny point in the dream, because at The Institution of Wong, everybody seemed to share everyting, and everyone seemed to have to be happy about it. But he was expressing that he didn't like her share. It played as funny in the dream.

Then, I was up on stage doing improv. And then the dream switched and I was in a movie. It was a James Cameron movie, and it was this big, modern epic, where people were current, modern people, but they're characters had all these symbols on them about who they were in past lives. One character styled his hair by twisting strands of his hair into Greek God statues, bridging them with other hair shaped into olive leaves, like Caesars crown. So he was a roman in a past life, and the movie was futuristic enough that it was plausible that hair styling had gotten that exacting.

I don't know really what the movie was about, but we wrapped up shooting for the day. I was having dinner with my mom - she's deceased, remember - but I was talking with her over dinner like she was still alive, she was sitting across the table from me at the restaurant like she was still alive. I was telling her about the shoot, how big James Cameron does everything, how I was worried about this movie being as good as his others, because he's gotten to a point where people will just throw money at him, and he's got free reign, and it's making him sloppy. I didn't feel that the extra money was making the movie any better it's just allowing him to do unnecessary, extravagent things.

My mom just smiled and listened. When I moved to Chicago and started doing improv, she was the only person I felt I could talk to about that stuff while she was alive, and it looked like, in this dream, that maybe she continues to be that person for me still. It felt like it was telling me that I can access her if I need to.

That's all I remember. Thanks for letting me share.

Exes

Had my ex boyfriend Dave in my dream last night. I dream about him quite a bit. We started dating in college, and then a few years out of college. I wonder what he represents to me - he had wanted us to get married, but I didn't want to. He is now married to a woman who definitely wants to be with him, and I think they are much more compatible than he and I ever were; they are happy and content as far as I know. But he's often in my dreams, and generally not in a romantic way, more as another member in my dream ensemble cast.

In the dream last night, I was at a cabin up north in Wisconsin. His parents had a cabin up there and have since retired up there. It wasn't their cabin, but it wasn't a cabin I owned either. Kind of felt like I was a squatter in this cabin. I was hoping I could catch some of the dream if I wrote it down right away ... all I remember is feeling he was there, and that I was being scolded or reprimanded by him and his Dad about my spending habits and lack of control. I can't remember exactly what it was. I remember feeling silly and stupid ... and caught.

Las Vegas on a Tour Bus

Last night I dreamt I was on a tour bus in Las Vegas. I have dreamt of this town before, and now I have the name of the town - Gallup, New Mexico - a town where as an outsider you can feel it's a small town and everything is on this main east-west road.

I'm on a tour bus. I think Mike is with me. There are older couples on this bus, some twenty-something girls. I don't think we were "touring" as much as we were being motorcoached to Vegas.

The driver stops us in front of a hotel on edge of the strip. We all wanted to get to our fancier hotels, farther down. But the driver stops us here. He doesn't say way, we are just stopped. He gets off the bus and goes into the hotel that is there.

The hotel we are in front of looks like The Pavilion in Columbus - a white wood building with a second-story balcony. Very 1860s, 1890s feeling.

At first we think the bus driver will be just a minute. But he doesn't come back and doesn't come back, and we all start talking among ourselves about what we should do. I say to Mike - he's flitting in between looking like my ex-boyfriend Dave and himself - well, what do you want to do today? Mike says he doesn't know. I say, I'd like to go hike up the foothills near by. He says OK. I feel resentful toward him - I could have said I'd like to stay inside the casino all day as well, and he would have agreed just as easily.

Some of the people have gotten off the bus, as it's not moving and there does not seem to be a bus driver. I am contemplating getting off, but I have not done so yet. I look at Mike, and I am not happy that he is my travel partner. I see the other people getting off the bus. I'm not moving yet.

Dream.

Shop Dream

Last night I dreamt I was working at shop, on North Avenue in Milwaukee's East Sided.

The shop was on the south side of the street, and although I didn't see it out the shop's front windows in the dream, geographically, it would be located across the street from the Whole Foods that is there currently.

The shop was a cross between a Home Depot and a Cost-Plus World Market. Actually, I'm not entirely sure I was even working there in the dream. I definitely was shopping there, though. They had this corner of clearanced Christmas items, very cute, hand-crafted ornaments that I was looking at.

I'm looking at the sale items, and am feeling guilty, like I am going to get caught shopping on the job. But nobody says anything, noboby bothers me. No customers ask me for help and no manager asks me to get back to work. I am free to do as I please. For that moment, I pleased to shop.

There is a picture album in with the merchandise in that corner. I flip through it; it contains pictures of me hosting my family at a large outdoor table, with white table cltohs blowing in the breeze. Everyone looks happy, there is food and glasses of lemonade on the table and everyone is smiling at each other. There is a large home in the background of the shot. I know that the house is mine in the picture, the way the picture is orchestrated. However, in the dream, I am not the owner of that house. Yet. I feel it is showing me what can me mine.

I got lost in thought looking at the photo album of this possible life of mine, and suddenly notice that the store is very quiet. I think, oh, no! I've been here dawdling and the store must be closed.

Two of my (awake-state) co-workers are at the door of the shop, kind of standing and waiting for the last remaining customers to check out and leave. We were closing down for the day. I look at my watch, it's ten minutes of five. We must close at five, I think. Do we really, I think? It strikes me how little I know of my job in the dream, because, I'm still not entirely sure I work there, either. Nobody seems to be yelling at me for shopping. They are, however, patiently waiting for me to leave. It's closing time, and time for me and the other shoppers to exit the building.

I take my last-minute purchase, and walk out into the bright light of day.