thwartedefforts

Now, what’s odd about that last dream is that the Seinfeld episode on tonight was The Pledge Drive, where Jerry, after Kramer’s suggestion, cashes some checks found in old cards from his grandmother.

This morning I had a really terrible dream.

The premise was that I had been co-lo’ing a machine at my friend Dennis’s, place of business. In my dream he ran a co-lo facility, but he doesn’t in real life. The building was my stereotypical business-office-research-facility that makes appearances frequently in my dreams, when the dream’s plot calls for it.

When I arrived at the facility, I had trouble finding where my hardware was located, and there were a lot of conference rooms I kept popping in and out of while people were having meetings. In many areas, it was really vacant and the lights were turned off. I don’t think I ever actually saw Dennis, but I knew it was where he worked.

Some members of my family were there, and my mom told me that my father was really mad at me. So now I was trying to find both my hardware and my dad, and it was getting really stressful because I couldn’t figure out why my dad would be mad at me. I came across my dad, and he wouldn’t talk to me. I finally found out, while talking to other family members and continuing to search for my computer hardware, that he was not speaking to me because he was angry about a birthday card I had received from a friend of his many years ago. This card apparently contained a check for something like $10 or $25 or something, and I had neglected to cash it. This was really disturbing because my dad is not like this; he’s understanding and he’s not the kind of person to get so angry at something that is beyond anyone’s control.

I tried to explain to him that I don’t remember the card or the birthday he was so concerned about. He told me that his friend took not cashing the birthday check very personally, and since then had changed so much that my dad hardly knew who he was anymore. At this point, I found my computer hardware in the bottom of an unmarked drawer, it was a SFF desktop machine and was not plugged in or in-use at all, and was just thrown in there with a bunch of cables. I thought this was puzzling because I wouldn’t put a desktop machine in a co-lo facility. I still had no idea who my dad’s friend was, and doubted I had ever actually met him. My dad said he was a long time friend of his, and if he had ever met me, it was when I was a baby. He reiterated that he couldn’t believe I would just forget to cash a birthday check, but he seemed slightly better about it now that we had talked, but I had an impression that he was still somewhat angry and disappointed. Throughout this whole dream, the whole scenerio of why this uncashed birthday check was such a big deal was completely inexplicable to me.

I had this dream that I was in the stereotypical catholic grade school, which is a conglomeration of all the private schools I’ve attended (and some I have not attended, but been in). In the dream I was my current age, but I was visiting it for some reason, and there was some school event going on. I was wearing a dress shirt and a tie. I had to go to the bathroom, so I made my way to the mensroom. Rather than all the urinals being lined up on the same wall, the wall with the urinals was a sawtooth shape, and the urinals were all still parallel to each other, just all on the same side of the sawtooth triangle shape. So I’m standing there pissing, and Ashton Kutcher comes in, walking kind of swanky or something, and I think “I hope Kelso doesn’t piss on me.” He proceeds to walk past me to a urinal two down from me, and unzips and goes about his business, but starts talking about it to. “Boy, I really need to go.” “Man, my bladder is gonna explode!”. So I look over at him and he gets this weird, calculating smile on his face. I start to think that my concerns are visible in my expression, and the next thing you know, he starts waving his cock around pissing all over everything, laughing and having a good time of it. He’s holding his dick like a baseball bat with one hand, waving it around like it’s a firehose. My shirt gets soaked and all I can think of is that it looks like I pissed myself, and I smell like it too, and I’m paranoid that no one is going to believe me that Ashton Kutcher pissed all over the mensroom and me.

I got up and spent a lot of time goofing off before getting ready for work, watching TV, eating, reading, checking my email, and then I noticed that it was too late and I actually skipped the entire day. Next thing you know, I’m waking up again, but I’m having trouble moving around and getting out bed and opening my eyes all the way, like I’m still really tired. I see idolatrare getting ready for work, but she’s sleeping in another bed, and our bedroom is like a really long hallway and my bed is at one end. Then I realize that it is like 10am, and I’m running really late again. But I can’t seem to move fast enough and I’m getting really frustrated. Then I wake up for real and realize it is only 8:20.

This was a week or so ago. My company is moving offices and it is my job to configure the network. In my dream, we kept leaving things at the old office, but the old office was like a church, and it was being partitioned off into different sections for use by various choir practices and group sessions. Everyone was wearing choir gowns that were either purple or white. I kept having to back to the “church” to get printer cables and keyboards and other computer odds-and-ends. On the last trip, I ended up in this area of the “church” that had a stage, and I was moving around backstage to leave and go back to the new office, and I nearly tripped over the head of Timothy Stack and his partner, who were about to go on stage. It was like we were old friends, and we used to do stand-up comedy, and we were trading insults. He and his partner were just heads, nothing below the neck, and I was looking down at him and I said things like “I never thought you’d get a head in this business after I left” and he answered, rolling his eyes, “Haha funny. My partner are just rolling along in this business.” Then he said he had to go on that we’ll have to get together sometime, and he and his partner, who was trying to look under the curtain, pulled themselves out on stage with their lips.

A few mornings ago, I had a dream that me and some friends were trying to get over a hill or mountain and through this wooded area with a barn (the setting reminded me of the mountiains with the twisty roads and trees used in car commericals). At one point, Dom DeLuise rode by. He was dressed like a french cook, and he was riding a red bicycle, he said something to me, but I can’t remember it or didn’t hear it. Also Tim Conway was on part of the mountain doing commericals for McDonalds. As I watched him, he morphed into having more makeup and costume on and eventaully was dressed like Ronald McDonald. He had terrible teeth, and they had used white face makeup on his teeth to cover up how bad they were, but it only make it look even worse when he smiled. He had taken the fact that Ronald McDonald is a clown to heart, and he was doing all these stupid rolls and jumps like a clown, and someone I couldn’t see was yelling him telling him to do it right. Slowly, it changed from me being on the mountain watching Tim Conway, to watching him through a curved piece of glass, to watching the commerical he was making on television.

I just found out that Tim Conway and Dom DeLuise were both born in the last half of 1933.

It starts out with me and my brother, who is played by Frankie Muniz (of Malcolm in the Middle) in this dream, coming out of school or something. We meet this blonde girl and her friend. We tell them we had not seen them around, and the blond girl says that everyone thinks they were dead. She complained about her skin being dry. So we part company, and on my way out of the building, I’m approached by these two guys in white robes who are collecting money to support some kind of teenage death society. Apparently, too many teenagers are dying, for whatever reason, these days, and this fund is meant to help to put a stop to it. They seem kind of radical, so I politely say no and excuse myself.

The next scene opens up with me in a girl’s bedroom facing a window, everything seems kind of old, like it had not been touched in a while. I hear rustling outside, and then see my brother (still played by Frankie Muniz) climbing the side of the house. He bangs on the window and waves his hand, which is holding a bottle of some kind of skin lotion. I let him in, and the blonde girl, who is asleep on the bed, wakes up and complains about her dry cold skin. She alludes to some kind of bruises that you can’t see “right now”. So Frankie and I start rubbing this skin lotion on her. The lotion is kind of greasy, and I get up to walk into the bathroom to wash my hands, not making much sound. The bathroom is right off the bedroom, and I look up from the sink to see Frankie leap over the bed, and make a lot of noise stomping on the floor as he follows me into the bedroom. All of a sudden, I hear doors slamming downstairs, and people rushing around. Frankie is still at the sink and seems kind of oblivious to all the noise. I hear footsteps on the stairs, and close the bathroom door. But it is slotted with vanes like a closet door, and I think I should turn the handle and close it all the way just as the bedroom door opens. An older female voice yells “Who’s in here?!” Through the vanes, I can see her head snap toward the bathroom as the bathroom door handle clicks. She comes over to the door, Frankie is still washing his hands, and says “No one is susposed to be in here. No one has been in here in years!”

The earliest event in this dream that I can remember had some kind of dirty guy chasing after my brother, my sister, and myself trying to get some kind of flying machine we had. It eventually turned into some kind of bar with an curved s-shaped bar. idolatrare and I were there, along with Valerie and a bunch of other people I know. As the night wore on, Miranda and Michelle and a group of their friends came in, who seemed to know the people behind the bar. Al is there, and everyone is chit-chatting, drinking, and having a good time. Miranda sees me and waves hello. I noticed that a lot of women were going to the ladies room, but few people were coming out. One by one, most of the women in the bar I knew had gone to the bathroom, except now people were opening the ladies’ room door and then going into the mens room, apparently, the ladies’ room was full, wall to wall. idolatrare and Valerie and a few other women ended up in the mens room instead. I was waiting for idolatrare to come back, and after what seemed like a long while to be in the bathroom, I had to go, so I go over to the mens room. All the stalls are taken by women, there are a few women in one of the larger handicap stalls, and they are all going through mailorder catalogs, like Victoria’s Secret, camping supply, and newspaper ad inserts. I take up position at a urinal, and I proceed to relieve myself. It’s taking a hell of a long time, and the women appear to finish up with their catalog comparing and start to exit the bathroom. I say hello to Michelle as she’s leaving and she turns to me and says “You think I’d leave without saying hello to you?” and Valerie walks up and says something like “Of course she would”, and I tell Valerie to shut up, and I go back out into the bar. It’s slightly changed, being more open, with some bookstore style book shelves a little bit away from the bar. Katie comes out and says “Is that Mellisa Barnes?” pointing at some older woman dressed in a gingham ankle length dress and an apron. “Who?” I ask, and she says “Mellisa Barnes, of Barnes and Noble” and she walks over toward her. Suddenly, it is much later, and I can’t find idolatrare anywhere, nor can I find my wallet. The bar has more people in it than it had before. I start to get kind of panicy because I can’t find my coat and my wallet isn’t in my pocket. Behind a guy in a chair similar to the kind StarBucks has, I find my coat, and idolatrare’s, and my wallet is in the pocket. So I set out to find idoltrare, and wander toward the bookshelves, and see that there is an art display up on three walls. It is snowing in this area, and snow drifts have piled up in front of the art work. I find idolatrare asleep in a snow drift on the fall wall. She said she felt tired and decided to take a nap right there. When she stands up, she is wearing a full length white fur coat, with a bright red fur elbow length collar.

I had a dream where I was one of four guys who were going to rob a bank. The dream featured cut scenes.

It started out with me and these other guys running the gauntlet into the high security section of a bank. We had to move through turn-styles, jump over some kind of chest-high glass partitions and sneak around corners. When we got to the vault, it was protected by some kind of ATM-esque terminal with a hand scanner. One of the guys with us knew how to crack it, and had brought along some kind of holographic paper printouts of a security guard’s hands. You had to leave a thumbprint and it had to scan your hand three times. He fed the holographic things into it, and as I’m watching, it crossed my mind that none of us were wearing gloves, or masks — you should at least wear a dead presidents mask if you are going to rob a bank. I pointed out that he was going to leave finger prints all over the machine, and he just used his hand to wipe them away, and gave me a dirty look. Then the vault opens, and they start taking out wads of cash and diamonds and stuff, and handing them to me, which I stuff into my coat and pockets, whereever I have room. I ask them why I’m carrying all this stuff, and they say because I’m the runner, and tell me to take off. So I run the gauntlet backward, dodging gun firing security guards (who are about as good a shot as the Barneys in Half-Life), and make it out of the building. No alarms are going off, so I duck into an office building a few doors down. There are a large number of elevator doors, and I hit one of the buttons. While I’m waiting for the elevator, I’m thinking that I should change my clothes, because I’m wearing a pretty distinctive shirt and my Tux cap, which is going to stand out on the security cameras. Then the elevator comes, but for some reason, it’s half-height and I have to duck down to ride it, and once inside, I find that each elevator only goes to one floor, which explains why there were so many of them. So I ride the elevator until it stops, and I get out into some kind of reading room. There are magazines and books all over the place, and people are sitting in big chairs like the kind you see at Starbucks reading. I sneak over into a part of the room I think is mostly hidden. Like on a cartoon, I pull another shirt out from inside my coat and start to change, but I think that is going to draw too much attention, maybe I should find a bathroom to change in. So after snooping around looking for a bathroom, I’m told there is one a few floors down, but to get there, you have to ride to the lobby and get in a different elevator that only goes to that floor. Thinking that will draw too much attention and that I’ll be seen by too many people who could later identify me on the security tapes, I sit back down and try to work myself out of my shirt inconspicuously, but even this proves futile and people start looking up from their reading. At certain points, there were cut scenes to the head security guard at the bank standing in a river up to his neck against a tree. He was saying “Why did they pick that time of the month to rob the bank?”. Another cut scene had a bunch of security guards and technicians at the bank vault door, and they noticed that the break-ins always occured during strange times, like on leap days and during non-standard holidays.

I had this dream that I think might have been an old Monty Python sketch, but I’m not sure.

It features one of the guys from Monty Python (not Idle or Cleese) sitting in a big Victorian arm chair talking about how everyone loves a dirty joke, but it’s difficult to tell them in mixed company. But the British have refined their humor such that they can tell a dirty joke hidden in an otherwise benign punch line. The example he gave included the words “push my nipples”, and he proceeded to say tell a clean joke, but in the dream, I couldn’t quite hear it. When he got to the punch line, he said it in this really thick highfalutin english accent (more so than the Monty Python crew normally has), to show how the dirty part was hidden. I woke up and laughed the hardest I had in six months for about twenty minutes. I wish I could remember the joke, and why “push my nipples” was funny, but that wasn’t the point of the sketch.