8/1/02:

    I am on some road trip by myself around the USA to "get away from NYC" for a while. It is always day time no matter where I go. I have gone halfway across the US and am in Texas. I decide to go back to NY after reaching Texas because I don't want to run out of money or time on my rental car. I drive back to NY. I arrive in the city in the day light. I am pulling into Manhattan off some bridge (none of it looks familiar) and then suddenly my car is stopped by these two robotic scooter looking things (that have no one driving them). These scooter looking devices have bright spotlights that shine out of the front of them and seem to be able to emit a bright beam of light in the daylight. They speak through speakers with an automated voices saying "Stop!" and "You are being pulled over for speeding and not signaling on a right turn!" and "Do not run away the police will be here shortly!" It's weird... like something from the future. So I wait... and as I do I sit in this little gas station parking lot that I pulled into (unusual for Manhattan) when the robot scooters pulled me over. I start to realize that I was near Dallas when I was in Texas... hey... I could have driven to Big Lake Park and seen it during the middle of the Summer! Why didn't I think to do that? Hmmmm... I wonder if I can go back? Just then some old man and his son that live in this house next to the gas station come out and talk to me and give me this paperwork to fill out about the robot scooters traffic violation stuff (the scooters are parked next to my car this whole time 'watching' me). The man and his son are really nice and cool. They're fun to talk to. The father gives me some advice about how to avoid the traffic charge.

8/2/02:

   There was something where I think I was on a game show and there was a host and I was in competition to win these weird tractor-looking machines. the wall behind the stage had hanging silver mylar. That's all I remember.

8/3/02:

    I'm in NYC but it looks displaced and unfamiliar. Lots of empty lots everywhere and junk yards and shanty towns... then run-down streets with brown stones that people live in. Maybe like the far east village ten years ago. It seems to constantly be dawn or early morning in this dream.
    I am going to some kind of photo shoot or party at Aaron Cobbett's house. I seem to also live at Aaron's house in the dream sometimes. I go there and see all these rooms with giant, brightly-colored soft cloth sculptures that take up the entire space in each room. Aaron is going to photograph some models on these sculptures. There are lots of people in the studio setting up lights and things. I keep trying to adjust my cam on the sculptures so it will capture everything. I see one of the female models is a very famous model but I don't know who. I imagine telling Gregory about meeting her. I keep trying to get her on cam and I imagine Diet Dew writing something about a famous model being on my cam on his web page. My cam keeps getting blocked by the sculptures as people keep moving them around. I seem to want to keep the fact that my cam is on a secret from everyone. Pretty soon a male model shows up. I recognize him from somewhere (in real life - don't know his name) and I guess he's been in a lot of magazines. We start talking before Aaron shoots him and we get along very well.
    After Aaron is done shooting and everyone has left... it's just me and him in the studio. Aaron is asking me if I'm going to be staying for the party that he is having later. I say yes. Suddenly I kind of "see" Gregory wherever he is in NYC. I know he is going to the party too. I also "know" or "see" that he is hanging out with some very wealthy guy who is going to fly him off to Europe or something but that it won't work out and he won't end up going. Also Sammy is suddenly in the studio with us. He is wearing white pants, a colored basketball jersey, lots of jewelry and a white towel over his head with wet hair - and is looking at himself in a mirror. I am asking Sammy if he is coming to the party. He keeps going "Swear! No! What! A party here? With those snotty artsy types! No way! I don't wanna be here for that! Is Greg going!?"
    Suddenly it is the next day (still morning time) on the street in front of Aaron's studio. I guess the party was last night. I see the famous male model I talked with the day before at the shoot across the street. He has sunglasses on and it looks like he is being mugged by three thug-looking guys. He looks at me and yells "Mark!" as if to say help just as the guys grab him and slam him against a car. I yell his name (don't remember it) and run over to help him. As I get there I see that the male model is not being assaulted... but he seems to know these three guys and they have "slammed" him against the car and are twisting his arm backwards because they are cracking his back. The male model also has what looks like a black eye. It's funny because by all accounts it looks like he's getting mugged but it's just coincidence. He's like "Hi MA-aaaaahhhhh-ark! Ohhhh! Ahhhhh! *crack* How are you!? Aaaahhhh!" ...I am thinking "how funny this is" as I kind of "float" above the car he is being leaned against and talk with him. Then I wonder what the black spot under his right eye is. I realize it's Kaposi's Sarcoma.... this guy obviously has AIDS. I am thinking about how hard it must be to be a pro male model with advanced AIDS. I start to look at the shape of the model's body under his clothes. It looks creepy and deformed. I imagine calling Gregory on the phone and telling him about the whole thing and us talking about it.

8/4/02:

    No dreams.

8/5/02:

    I'm in some weird suburban town I don't know. All the buildings are one level and all the streets seem to be made of dusty dirt. The roofs of the buildings are Spanish tile and the exterior walls are white. All the streets are winding and all the houses and buildings are connected. I feel like I might be in a village on a small island in Greece or maybe a little Mexican town, except everything seems very modern. My old high school friend Katy and her father are around and involved in the dream somehow. I think Katy's father is helping me to get some kind of lock for some window that I have in my house (in the weird town). The window in question is made of black glass that seems almost opaque - like the windows of a limousine. The window was broken and he is helping me to get a lock - or secure it somehow. I get the feeling that I have to get the window fixed before sundown... and the sun seems to be setting - it is dusk. At one point Katy is riding on the handlebars of a bicycle being driven by some guy she is dating. She is coming down the street like that and I stop her and am like "Where's your dad? I need that lock." and she starts to tell me that he's coming soon or is just down the street or something and not to worry... and the guy driving the bike pokes her in the ribs to tickle her and she starts laughing and they ride off like that.
    Then I seem to be in some high rise office building... on a floor way up... I can see a day time city far below me in the office's massive windows. There is a photo shoot or TV show set in the office. I am kind of backstage in the office/TV studio space. There is some guy telling me... or I guess giving me advice about making it in television. Sometimes he is an old Jerry Lewis with gold jewelry and a cigar... and sometimes he is a floating black and white cardboard cut out photo of Bing Crosby just floating there with a voice coming from behind it. And sometimes it is even Jerry holding the Bing cut out in front of his face like a mask and talking to me.

8/6/02:

    There is something where I am looking at these two round aluminum tins to-go plates of food from a mexican restaurant. There is a clear plastic lid on each one that is smashing the food down because it is packed too tight in the tins. Each plate is divided into thirds; refried beans, guacamole and then something white - sour cream? It looks gross. that's all I remember.

8/7/02:

    All I remember is some vague image of a game show... I was on the stage I think... a contestant. There were these lit up squares... little boxes that lit up... each a different color. There was a woman in a sequin dress that was the presenter... I was facing her with my back to the audience and could hear the audience cheering. That's it.

8/8/02:

    I remember something about Gregory and our skin in the dream but that's it.

8/9/02:

    I'm on some bus trip - like a school bus. The bus is full of people my age but it seems like we're being taken to a school camp trip like little kids. The bus is driving through these lush areas that have kudzu covering trees and stuff - but with lots of open green areas too. We get off the bus and and listen to our camp counselor tell us to go explore the camp grounds on out own but to stay together in groups and be at the dorm huts or whatever at 7 to meet for dinner. We break off and I notice that there is this one guy in colorful swim trunks and carrying a towel on his head... he has a lot of guys around him and seems to have a little clique. I remember this guy on the bus talking about all the drugs he does and deals and how when he gets to camp he can't wait to find drugs in the forest. This made a lot of other guys instantly become his friend. As we all get off the back emergency exit doors of the bus... this guy with the swim trunks goes off with his friends and is like "Let's go find drugs in the forest dudes!"
    Soon it is later in the day. I'm still at the weird camp and we are all gathered in some weird little hut to hear a performance by Sonic Youth, or maybe it's just Thurston Moore, because he is the only one on the little stage area, none of the other band members are around. The stage area is separated from the audience area by this crude, old-western style log fence thing, and is the same level as the audience area. And the stage area has all these desks and computers and papers all over the desks and office equipment. It looks just like a real office except for the overhead stage lighting. Thurston is in the office area working at a desk. He seems hard at work and frustrated. He seems pretty pissed about something. The audience keeps looking forward and yelling stuff like "Yea Thurston!" and "Righteous!" and he keeps working hard at his desk ruffling through papers and typing on a computer... huffing and puffing in anger because he's having to work so hard and there are people right next to him yelling "Rock on!" It's weird and funny. Soon people in the audience get distracted or bored... which seems to please Thurston. In the audience we start getting into little groups and talking amongst ourselves. The swimsuit guy is there and his little circle is talking all about the drugs they scored in the woods. At on point I look over at Thurston and he is standing up, taking a break... I think he's happy that everyone is ignoring him. He is smoking a cigarette. We exchange looks and he looks really pissed and sits back down at his desk and begrudgingly starts typing. He throws me a CD and it lands on the floor by my feet. I don't know what's on it.
    Then suddenly I am in the parking lot of my old high school. I am in a car and I am trying to get to the far end of the huge lot. It is very, very early in the morning - gray dawn light. It's a school day but it's so early there are only a few cars in the lot driving and parking. I am driving pretty fast, over speed bumps and around curbs... it's like a maze trying to get to the other end. I feel like I can drive recklessly because there are so few cars around. I am trying to get to the far end of the lot... to the area with the field by the indoor swimming pool, so I can pick up a freshly delivered newspaper that has been left over there. For some reason I have this strong feeling that I need to read something that is in that newspaper. I have a weird memory (in the dream) that some girl told me I had to see what was in that paper that morning. I reach the area with the paper and screech to a halt. I can see the paper wrapped up with a rubber band around it laying on the concrete. Suddenly... I am outside my car... which is now gone. and am standing in that area. The road that leads away from that part of the lot leads up to what looks like an old European town. To the left of that road are all these chairs arranged like at a wedding on the lawn. In the chairs are sitting a crowd of people all dressed very formally. They are a jury. It seems that I am suddenly in some sort of abstract court and am on trial for hitting a car in the parking lot earlier (which I don't remember) from driving so fast and recklessly. The judge is somewhere off to the right by the old village. As I am on trial and am standing there in the parking lot I am looking at this dried maple leaf... like you would see in the fall. It dried and curled up perfectly... not one part of it broken off. I'm looking at it and thinking it looks really interesting. I now realize that the car I hit belonged to some very wealthy couple... and was a very expensive car. I also realize that my old algebra teacher Ms. Maloney is on the jury. I start to plead with the judge that I don't have much money at all and that there is no way I could possibly pay for the expensive car. I really start laying on the guilt and putting on a pity show in hopes that the charges will be dropped. I don't think it's working.
    Then suddenly it's another day and I'm back at the camp. I am getting my guitar and a patch cord from my cabin... and am going to be walking through the forest to go play some gig somewhere. When I get all the way to the other side of the forest I look down and see that I forgot my guitar... all I brought was the carrying case - which is these two halves of a hollowed out guitar shape made of this weird transparent white cardboard - they are flimsy and kind of loosely go together to encase the guitar. I'm like "Oh no! What am I going to do! The gig is in 15 minutes! There's no time to run back and get it!" Suddenly I seem to kind of "hear" the voice of the girl who told me to get the paper, and the voice of Thurston. They are both telling me that I can go on stage with just the weird cardboard case and plug my patch cord into it and play like that. They seem to imply that the audience will love it - it will be like Dada art or something. I reluctantly decide to do this... and wonder how long I'll be able to keep it up before the audience starts booing. I walk into the building where the gig is to be.

8/10/02:

    There was some weird triple reality thing going on where I was telling Jim about this conversation I had with someone recently... yet the conversation I was telling him about was the one I was having right at that moment with him. As I was telling him about it - I was with him, and to my left I saw this image floating in the air on my left of the two of us sitting indian style, facing each other and talking - it was the conversation I was referring to. I looked down and saw that we were in the exact position. I looked up at the floating image and waved my arm... my floating image waved it's arm... just like a mirror.

8/11/02:

   I am in some living situation in some strange house. The house has lots of rooms and I don't recognize any of it. Different sections of the house seem to hold different groups of people... we all live together.
    In one part of the house it's like my old college dorm - but looks nothing like it. In that section of the house live a lot of people from college. The only one I recognize is my old college friend Cathy. I am in the hall bathrooms at one point. The walls and floors and ceiling and even the metal walls of the toilet stalls are panted this splotchy random blue and green color. Cathy is in one of the stalls and I am in one of the other ones. We are talking as we are both going to the bathroom. Suddenly Cathy says "Uh-oh!" and starts to flush her toilet over and over. As she does this the stall walls start to kind of separate and 'float" away. I see a stream of water coming from the direction of Cathy's toilet. I see big streaks of blood in it. Also chunks of ice - like the kind you would buy in a plastic bag for a dollar at a convenience store. As the walls pull away I see her standing over her toilet flushing it over and over. She is kind of laughing.
    Then in another part of the house... which has frosted glass walls... I see Guillaume. He is running around very busy. He seems very preoccupied.
    Then I'm in another part of the house that seems to be inhabited by someone who is like a mother figure. Sometimes I think it's my mom and sometimes it's Ellen Burstyn. I am in the living room area with her, the TV is on. I am standing by an open window and I am pulling hairs off of myself (that I seem to be sort of covered with) and showing them to her. At some point the mom figure is a young girl my age. At one point the hairs look like long skinny dead plant leaves. On the end of one of the leaves/hairs is this little thing that looks like a dandelion spore - except brown. I show it to the mom and I notice that it's moving... it's a big spider! I kind of freak out and try to get to the door to put it outside. I go out the front door (it's a big white door with a brass door handle - this leads to a small upper porch on the outside with two small stairways with black iron railing leading down to the ground - the ground is covered in grass and dead pine needles - it's a sunny day, a suburban setting - I see a sprinkler going off in the distance). When I try to walk down one of the little stairways, I notice that there is a GIGANTIC spider web covering the entire area of the front entrance of the house. It's HUGE. I am already in the middle of it and have that icky feeling when you are walking in the middle of a spider web and the strands are quietly "popping" as you break them and sticking to you. I start to move really quickly around the spider web... down low... around the edge... so I can lay the spider in my hand on the grass and then go back inside. At one point I have to break through a very tick and dense area of web that I am afraid my have the giant spider that created it (or a nest of eggs) in it but I just go right through it and I'm like "uuuugggghhhh..." - it's really gross and creepy. I get back inside the house all covered in web and tell the mom figure what happened. I go in my room to lay down. I am laying on my bed and my old NYC friend Robert Garcia walks in. He has some very young black guy with him. They walk in my room on the way to the bathroom. I guess Robert lives there too. For some reason I know that the black kid has a crush on me. They say hello and I'm laying there and I say something like "I walked through a giant spider web today so I'm laying in bed because I'm so traumatized!" and Robert's like "OK..." I look at this i-Pod that the kid has in his hand. It looks like an old cassette tape walkman, that is black not white, but for some reason I think it's an i-Pod and I say to the kid "Did you buy an i-Pod?" He holds it out and shifts it from hand to hand and says kind of nervously "Yea i-Pod... spod... mod... whatever!" and as he shifts it back and forth the tape door opens and the tape falls out on the floor.

8/12/02:

    I am in a giant building filled with all kinds of rooms and sections. Some of the areas of the building seem to be offices and some seem to be apartments and other areas appear to be department stores. I am in the area that is a department store. I am in a men's clothing section and am being helped by the dresser. He has sent me into a dressing room to try some things on. When I'm in the dressing room I see that the place is kind of run down. I see there are different layers of paint and wallpaper in the room, as well as boards or sections of old walls leaning against the walls, hiding big holes or gaps in the brick. I see, behind one section of board, what appears to be an Indian rug hanging over a window. The sunlight from outside is shining through the window and causing the rug (which is covering the window) to "glow". I reach over and push the rug aside to see out the window. I see that it looks out onto Central Park West, in New York City - so I guess that's where this building must be.
    Then a time shift seems to have occurred. I am in another section of the building, an office section. I seem to be working for only one day in this office where all these other people work. Like I was hired from a temp agency or something. The boss of the company walks through the office and asks a lot of the workers questions. He is a skinny man in an out-dated black suit and skinny tie. He has a really bad comb-over. Then the boss leaves and everyone is working. As I am working in the office... all the people that work there are talking to me and amongst themselves about how bad it is to work there and how no one ever gets paid... how every two weeks there seems to be a "problem" with the pay checks. They are all comparing stories about how they have been screwed out of pay for a day or two at other offices. There is this pretty black girl at a desk next to me, she has long black extensions in her hair and long fingernails and jewelry. Suddenly, as she is talking in the conversation, she is totally nude and is somehow "crawling" all around her desk and chair - almost like Spider Man could. She seems to have sticky things on her hands and legs that allow her to cling to it's angled surfaces and not drop off. She is saying "Oh once I worked at this place for one day and I got the check six months later!" and as she is saying this she is totally naked and is crawling all over her desk. No one seems to notice this or even think it's unusual at all. Then the black girl straddles a corner, or edge, of her desk and suddenly her vagina grows really big. The lips of her vagina get really thick and enlarged and start kind of  "vibrating" on the edge of the desk. She is then able to lift all her arms and legs off the desk and kind of "walk" along that edge using only the lips of her vagina. It's really weird.

8/13/02:

    No dreams. Not much sleep last night.

8/14/02:

    I'm in some building that is made of bare white concrete. The building is one of a series on a barren, desert-like landscape. I get the feeling that I may be in Argentina, or Cuba or even Puerto Rico. I am in the building with my old friend Robert Garcia. I am getting my driver's licensee renewed. I guess we are at the DMV. I am laying on my back on this gigantic couch and Robert is laying across my legs. For some reason, the camera that takes your photo for your licensee takes it with you in this position on this couch. Robert keeps distracting me and making me laugh. I am trying to focus and "pose: my head in a good position of my licensee photo. Then we are leaving and I guess we are paying at the cashier... it looks like a grocery store cashier. We see our NYC friend Girlina. She is wearing this giant white outfit that looks like it's made of sheep skin. She has giant white platform shoes. I look down suddenly and see that I have on a similar outfit. Robert runs right up to Girlina and starts talking to her. I place my white sequin purse (which is in the shape of a shoe box and has two large "flaps" on the top) which I suddenly have for some reason, on the cashier counter and pretend to place my face behind one of the flaps as I open the purse... and loudly talk to Robert. I am pretending that I don't want to be seen by Girlina as a joke, and am hiding behind the purse. When Girlina sees me she goes "Ohhhhh! Hooooooooo!" and we all laugh. Then we all walk through the streets. It seems like a run-down city. Weeds are growing through all the concrete. We pass an abandoned fountain in a ragged old public square. The sun is out and it almost seems like early morning. We are walking around laughing and talking.

8/15/02:

    No dreams.

8/16/02:

    I dreamed I had to give a massage to Hillary Clinton. She was in a big white towel laying face down on a massage table, and was very friendly when I met her for the session (was it in a posh hotel?) but then she did not speak at all during the session. I remember concentrating on her ears and massaging them a lot. While I was doing it I kept thinking "What lead to this?"

8/17/02:

   I can't remember much from the beginning of the dream. It involved Anna Nicole Smith and also Ann and Nancy Wilson from the Heart. Ann Wilson is huge fat. Just like yesterday's dream, all the women were nude but had big fluffy white towels wrapped tightly around their bodies. I was not massaging anyone... but all of us seemed to be in a steam room or sauna of a spa.
    Then a total scenario shift. I am at a 24 hour porn video store on Delancey street in NYC. It is similar to a store that is near Delancey, but is actually on Allen street. It is late at night. I am there with Gregory. The only other person in the store is the Indian guy who runs it. The store has dirty beige industrial carpeting, harsh fluorescent lighting and fake wood paneling walls. The ragged cardboard video boxes are haphazardly arranged on rows of display shelves. Some of the shelves of videos are behind these locked plexiglass sliding doors that are all scratched and old. Gregory and I are goofing off and looking at all the funny porn video boxes and laughing. More people start to wander into the store. The Indian guy keeps going from the front of the store to the back where there's this little office with a desk and swivel chair. I want to leave... I'm bored.... but Gregory keeps dragging behind and looking at boxes. For some reason... near the back of the store. I pull out my dick and masturbate really quickly onto one of the plexiglass walls and squirt this big stain of sperm that just kind of stays there on the glass with one drop slowly dripping down from it. It's very white and thick and looks like white paint. I zip up my pants and go find Gregory. I'm like "We have to get out of here... you're not going to believe what I just did! Come on!" and he's real reluctant to leave. I keep trying to get him out the door and the Indian guy keeps walking around and I'm really afraid the Indian guy is gonna see what I did. I want to get out of there before he discovers it. I keep picturing the Indian guy having to clean the glass with Windex and paper towels and it sounds really gross. Finally I get Greg outside into the night air. I realize that the porn store is in the exact location where there is a McDonalds on Delancey - with the same lay out and location of two entry doors... except that it's a porn store - like the one around the corner on Allen street.
    We walk across the street to the pizza place/subway station and I keep looking over my shoulder through the window of the porn store to see if the Indian guy has discovered the stain yet. Suddenly Gregory has turned into someone I don't know. He's a young, straight, teenage Latin guy with bleached orange hair and trendy homeboy clothes on. He acts really tough  - but is short and skinny. I tell him I'm going to walk home. He stops and looks at me and starts saying "Mark I just want you to know you're a good friend man! I really like you'ze a lot dude! Dude I'm serious I really like you a lot... we're good friends!" and he keeps trying to do one of those homeboy handshakes with me as I walk away from him. I'm like "Great! OK cool! See you 'round" as I walk away. I have no idea who he is, although he used to be Gregory, and I get the impression he doesn't want me to go home.

8/18/02:

    Too busy today to type dream, but here are my notes. Maybe I'll come back later and fill them in:

    - In Hollywood, Ca. See people filming movie about belly dancers in town square. PAs won't let me cross street.
    - Am in some kind of medical lab massaging a cut up, decayed cadaver on an autopsy table - ugh! But wait! The person is alive... just hideously deformed. Am rubbing all the muscles (some of which are exposed) and thinking about how much the human body looks like Kentucky Fried Chicken original recipe.
    - Live in weird building with lots of floors.
    - Go to building where big stores are, see Chicks on Speed store. Go inside.
    - See friend Mike, he says "Oh you know Tim!" He sets up massage appointment with me. Give him massage. Father comes into house and is in another room. I keep leaving Mike during massage and going to talk to dad, also going to clean up big stain in another room. Keep forgetting Mike is on massage table upstairs and running up to finish, acting like it's part of the session. Mike finally says "There is something going on here... you know it... I know it... what's going on?" I play dumb but am mortified. I finish up and he leaves. How could I possibly give someone such an irresponsibly bad massage session? I feel embarrassed and can't believe I charged him.

8/19/02:

    I dreamed that an amputated, burned, human arm (female) fell from the sky at the World Trade center site... and plopped onto the ground. This caused everyone to look up. Everyone started looking up and realized that one of the towers was still standing, and intact... and full of the people that were trapped there a year ago on September 11th(!). It turns out they had enough food and water to survive all this time and were actually doing OK... but were just really confused as to why no one was coming to rescue them. It was only the people in the very top of the building (above where the plane hit) that were still in there. The arm that fell was one that had been trapped on a ledge on the outside of the building for a long time and finally was blown off by the wind. I looked up to the top of the tower and saw all these white sheets and flags and stuff hanging out of the top windows. I saw smoke coming out of the windows... not from the disaster fires but from cooking fires (they had no electricity since the city cut the power to the building, thinking it was gone) and there appeared to be little structures, like huts (made from plywood and scraps from inside the building - like cubicle partitions) that they had constructed and were kind of jutting out of the side of the top. The whole thing was very weird. When the people were coming down (why didn't they just walk down before?) people on the ground weren't really glad to see them as much as they were really confused as to how the building could have been standing all this time (with survivors inside) in spite of what had occurred. Instead of the people on the ground smiling and hugging and congratulating the people as they came out of the tower... it was the other way around; as the people came out of the tower... they walked up to people on the ground and were hugging them like "Congratulations!" and "You did it! Good for you! You finally saw us!" and the people on the ground were just standing there with blank looks on their faces like it's all too hard to believe.

8/20/02:

    I am sitting on some steps talking to this weird cartoon-looking figure that is the numbers "9300" or "9316" or something like that. The figure is the numbers running down vertically, in bold white letters and almost looks like a stylized rolled up piece of giant paper... like a thick rolled up newspaper. The rolled up paper part with the numbers running from top to bottom vertically is the body and it has arms and legs sticking out. The arms and legs look a lot like Mickey Mouse's limbs. It is about 3 feet tall. It exists in a real reality - yet look kind of animated. I seem to be outside a building... sitting on the steps of the building, talking to this figure... who is distressed about something.   The whole thing looks suspiciously like that "School House Rock" cartoon from the 70's - the "I'm just a bill... only a bill..." one.
    I am talking to this numbers figure about the cancellation of the "Year of the Year" pageant, which is held annually. It seems that every year... all the years that has ever happened in history get together and have a contest/pageant where one year is elected "The Year of the Year". They all look like this guy/thing I am talking too. Some of the years... from way in the past... are very old because they are from a long time ago... and some are even so old that they are dead (those ones don't show up). But every year that has ever existed has to show up and compete. I guess there is a panel of judges that elect the winning year each year. He says that all the years were getting frustrated a while back because the criteria that was used to judge the best year of the year was unfair. He said each year had nothing to do with the events that happened to it during the time period it existed (I guess that was the criteria - what happened during that year and how interesting it was), and that it was all luck. He says that the year 2000 has swept the competition for the last three years just because it was the year 2000 and had a lot of romantic stuff attached to it (although it almost lost out to 2001 on the "Year of the Year" competition after September 11th - but didn't because the judges didn't want to give too much of a nod to the terrorists. He said some of the years from way in the past that never won have to show up year after year and its really sad because they know they will never win. And as more time goes on it just becomes sadder and sadder. He also says that often the year that the contest is held in will win just because it happens to be that year. He says there were so many complaints from contestants that the judges decided to cancel the "Year of the Year" contest because they couldn't think of any other reason to elect a year that how interesting the events were that happened during it (like talent). So the contest is now canceled and everyone is double bummed out and wishes they hadn't complained because even though the competition was really unfair, secretly it was all the years had to look forward to. I'm just sitting there listening to his story like "Wow how strange."

8/21/02:

    All I remember is this one part where I was "observing" my "womb". Not like the womb I was formed in, but my own womb - like I had female reproductive organs, and embryo and everything. I had a baby in there that I could kind of "see" as it was forming, and I realized that the baby was my mother(!)

8/22/02:

No dreams.

8/23/02:

    I'm living in some weird version of NYC (I think). Its bigger and more complex. There is something where I am living in some giant old English manor style home that sits on this gigantic, lush estate. I think the manor is in NYC, somewhere... although it looks nothing like it. It looks like the English countryside crossed with Gracie Mansion. I always seem to be outside on the grounds, next to this giant window... and I seem to be able to see partly inside the dark manor. It is always dawn light on the manor lawn, with dew on the grass. I think my brother may live there too but I'm not sure. There is something where I am on the lawn with some photographer team, a man and a woman. They are friends of mine I think. They are photographing some female model who is on the lawn, and somehow positioned in front of this giant convex, transparent lens disc thing that is floating in front of her face. This magnifies her face. I also think there is water inside the disc thing - because I can kind of "see" through the camera's viewfinder and it looks almost like she's being photographed under water. She has long, streaked blond, wavy hair and a bright red and yellow orchid in her hair - 70's disco make up on. As they are photographing her they are able to make an air bubble appear in the water right above her right eye - blocking the camera's view of that eye. They are somehow able to make that bubble stay in that position. I get the impression that I am sometimes the model - like I am her. The photographers keep talking to the model as they shoot her... but they always walk away from the camera and over to me and tell me directly what they should be saying to her... like "Hold your head up a little more! Good! Now pout a little!" and stuff like that. They are photographing her but always walk over to me and say those things to me... weird.
    Then a scenario shift: I am still in the complex, alternate NYC... but am in a busy section... not the manor. I get the impression I'm in the Times Square section. I am walking around this complex parking garage - I get the impression that it's some kind of subway terminal. It's crowded with people. I have a portable CD player with me... and headphones. I also have a backpack. The wires that connect my CD player to the headphones is all complex and wrapped around me and the backpack and all tangled. I seem to have these areas inside the car garage/subway terminal where I hide stacks of CDs. Little nooks and crannies where I store CDs and then pick them up and listen to them on my way every day to and from where ever I am going on the subway. They are a little bit hidden but are pretty much out in the open, anyone could take them if they found them. I seem to think this is easier than storing them at home... weird. I am standing on one level of the garage... and I am stopped and thinking. I am thinking that it's NOT a good idea to store little stacks of my own CDs in little nooks and crannies all over the garage after all. I decide to go to each hiding place and get all my CDs and take them all home. I start o go to each area and collect my CDs. I have to crouch down to do this while all these people walk by me. At one point I am having a hard time getting the wires from the headphones off of my and the headphones themselves... the wires are all inter crossed within the layers of my backpack and coat and everything. Finally I have to pull my shirt off with the headphones and I see these two young girls standing there staring at my bare chest.
    Then, suddenly... I am in some library in some small town that is definitely NOT NYC. It's a small public library. I still have all my back back and headphones and stuff and am crouching down with a stack of CDs in my hand... like I was just instantly transformed there. It has a very large main room with high ceilings and rectangle fluorescent light things in the white ceiling. There are large rows of shelves of books and tables with people sitting at them. There is a librarian/information desk. I get up and decide to leave. Just as I do this woman walks past me with long-ish wavy black hair with a big blond streak in it. She has a short dress on made out of black chiffon that has a pattern of pale pink orchids on it. She has bare legs and strap pumps on... the outfit seems a little risqué for a small town public library. Just as she walls past me... some woman sitting at a table by the exit looks up at her and says "Amy?!" and the woman says whatever the woman sitting's name is real excitedly and then sits down to talk with her. As I see the woman with that walked past me sitting down, and in profile... I realize it's NYC socialite Lauren Ezersky. I wonder what she's doing here. I'm still standing by the exit about to leave but am transfixed by Lauren (named Amy in my dream?) and her friend. They seem like two old friends who haven't seen each other in a while catching up. I see that the bright morning sun is shining through the windows of the exit doors and onto the pale pink carpet of the library and Lauren and her friend. I hear some kind of voice inside my head that says "It's time to leave Mark." So I start to walk out. As I do I see Lauren get up (I seem to be observing her in another room - like looking at her from outside the open door of a bedroom) and I see her place her hand under her belly. I realize she's pregnant.

8/24/02:

   I'm in some strange movie theater in a strange town. The town reminds me of Plano, Texas but it's not. I am with some girl I don't know, but who is my friend in the dream. She keeps changing in appearance during the dream... like turning into different people... but I always identify her as the same person. We are at the theater to see a "midnight movie" (it's late at night). We are in one of the theater's screening rooms and we are watching the movie. The seats are half full. Everything in the theater is red or maroon, the seats, the industrial carpet, the curtained walls, everything. I can't tell what movie is showing but I think it may be some wacky 80's teen comedy that may have Keanu Reeves in it. There seems to be some theme in the film about cutting guy's hair - like maybe a Samson and Delilah thing. Out of the corner of my eye, I keep seeing people getting out of their seats and running around the room. I start to pay more attention to them and realize that there is this group of young, punk-looking, lesbian girls sitting near the back that have all these kinds of hair cutting instruments. They all have short, punk-colored hair and flannel shirts with the sleeves cut off and cut off jean shorts and really fat asses and have scissors and clippers and stuff. They keep getting up and sneaking behind guys and snipping off parts of their hair. They seem to keep daring each other to do more and more - and then scream and all run back to their seats when they've done it. It starts to get out of hand and more and more people start paying attention to them and yelling at them and stuff. Then it almost turns into a mini-riot as everyone kind of starts running over to the girls and yelling at them to stop and they keep out-dodging everyone laughing and doing it anyway. No one is paying attention to the movie and everyone is focussed on the hair cutting lesbian punk girl gang. Why no one has run out to get the management or call the police I don't know.
    Suddenly I feel this sharp scrape and then pull on the right side of the back of my head. I turn around and see one of the girls running away from me back to the back of the theater. All her friends are yelling "You got another one! Hahahaha!" and she is holding little wasps of my hair in her hand up to them - like a trophy. She had used one of those weird "hair thinning" brushes that old style barbers use - it looks like a think, metal-bristled horse brush but has itty bitty blades deep inside the tiny bristles that cut every other hair as you run it through the hair. Maybe they have these I don't know but it's what was in the dream. I reach up and feel the back of my hair and feel wisps of hair fall onto my hand. The girl I am with is like "Oh my God they cut your hair!" I get up and walk over to the back of the theater and grab the girl who cut my hair. Her hair is kind of long, and blond, and I reach up and grab it. I then slam her to the floor and drag her by her hair down the center isle and out into the lobby. She is kicking and screaming and trying to wriggle free the whole time. Everyone in the theater is screaming. I stop in the lobby when I find some tall guy who works in the theater. I'm still holding the girl by the hair, who is on the floor behind me still trying to break free. I tell the lobby guy what is going on in the theater and tell him to call the police. As I do, the girl I am holding is wriggling and kicking and yelling at me to let her go. She has scissors in her hand and keep jabbing them at me and snipping them in the air towards me. I keep moving my legs out of the way, simultaneously paying attention to her and they guy, who is on his cell phone calling the police. The girl I'm holding down keeps changing in appearance but still remains the same person, like magically - and just like the girl I came to the theater with. At one point, she has changed into the girl with the wild platinum punk hair that runs with the cocaine-addicts gang in the Lamberto Bava film "Demons" (a horror film that takes place in a movie theater), but she is totally nude - and still has a gold nose ring just like in the movie. I forget the actresses' name. She's just squirming there nude.
    Then some kind of scenario shift happens. I am with the girl I came to the movies with (she now has long wavy blond-streaked hair and a flowing dress) and we are just outside the movie theater... in the parking lot... running away from the theater. It's still dark, late at night. We keep looking back at the theater as we run away from it. Apparently something awful went down... something really violent and people just started running out of the theater for their lives. We keep looking back as we run away because we want to make sure none of the girl gang sees us. We run across the street, over a chain link fence, and across this large grass field up to what looks like an elementary school, kind of on top of a hill. It's late at night and the school is closed. When we get to the school... we see that it has all these lit fountains and ornate, fish-shaped sculptures with water running out of them... it looks like a cross between a school and an elaborate Las Vegas casino entrance. The outer walls of the school are white concrete with these little rocks concrete-d onto them - a very 70's style (my elementary school in Plano had outer walls just like this).
    It's at this moment that I kind of "remember" another part of my dream, from earlier, like just before the "midnight movie". I think I might have been in this location and it was night and I was with the girl I am with now, plus another guy. We all keep climbing over this chain link fence and doing stuff. I am carrying a very large aluminum mixing bowl filled with water. I also have something wrong with my right eye... it's just a red blob or is covered up with something... like it was poked out. I am laughing with the two people I am with. Sequentially this part happened at this moment in the dream, but I get the impression it happened earlier in the dream's "time line".
    Then it's back to the ornate school with the girl in the middle of the night. I look all around (what I assume is Plano) and see that the sun is beginning to rise way off in the horizon... everything has that weird dawn light. I look over to one area of the fountains and fish sculptures and see these two middle aged "soccer moms" wearing ugly velour jogging outfits and standing on this little Chinese-style bridge that goes over one of the little rivers that comes out of one of the fountains. They seem to be on a very early morning "power fitness walk" and have stopped at the school to admire the sculptures and fountains. I look beyond them and see that the girl I was with with the long hair I was with is now walking away from me, her back to me, way off into the horizon. She is about 50 yards away and keeps walking. She didn't even say "bye".

8/25/02:

    All I remember from last night's dream was the vague image of a blond woman in a business suit sitting behind a desk (she had a wall of glass bricks to her right). She was showing people in the room this little word puzzle she had created with pencil on a pad of paper. She spelled out the phrase "BEST FRIEND" and then below that, showed how, without rearranging any of the letters and by simply breaking the two words into more little groups (rearranging the spaces between words) the same sequence of lets spelled out "NEEDS A HAND OUT". Interesting because she and everyone in the room were like "Wow!" even though it makes no sense.

8/26/02:

No dreams.

8/27/02:

No dreams.

8/28/02:

    All I remember are little snippets:
    - Working out the direction of filming a scene of a junkie being chased by some guy in an alley at dawn.
    - Massaging some English guy in a room filled with ornate furniture and peacock feathers.
    - Being at some lush spa with some young faggy guys (who own it)... the spa is all bare wood and has large windows at the front. I look out the windows and see it's dusk. I realize I am in London.
    - Being in some amazing haunted castle "ride" (like at Disneyland) that has fake electronic candes and fake mechanical snakes. I am there with Shequida and she is showing me the place.

8/29/02:

    Too vague to remember... I do remember a return of the robot snakes and fake electric candles in the amusement park haunted castle ride from last night's dream. I also remember some thing in an office with glass brick walls, dark blue industrial carpeting and fluorescent lights (maybe neon light wall sculptures)... a woman is standing in front of a desk in the office, blond and in a beige business suit... and her face seems to be kind of "melting" or "blurring" away. That's all I can remember.

8/30/02:

    I remember I woke up in the middle of the night last night and was like "Wow! I can't wait to write this dream down!" and now I forgot it.

8/31/02:

    All I remember is some scenario where a crying Asian woman is being interviewed on some sit-down talk show. She is sitting in a chair and there is a male host to her left in another chair, wearing a black business suit. In front of them is what looks like a giant pile of something, like maybe clothes, that has a huge piece of black velvet cloth draped over the whole thing. The Asian woman is weeping in this kind of phony way and the announcer is saying "OK miss! Now when you cut up your husband into pieces and boiled them in your kitchen..." and he's doing it in this really funny fake cheerful way, like he's a morning talk show host.. Apparently this woman murdered and dismembered her husband, who I somehow know was black, and is now being interviewed about it. I can kind of "see" these still images of her attacking her husband in her kitchen with a huge knife ()and the husband cowering in the corner) - this image I can "see" is from the past. Suddenly... onto the black velvet thing drops what looks like a fish head. After that the rest of the body... piece by piece... drops onto the black velvet on top of it. The fish parts look like they have been boiled in water for a long time. They are also pastel pink in color. There is something fake-looking about them. Just before each fish part falls... the announcer goes "When you cut off your husband's head, did it look like..." and then the fish part falls "...THIS!" and the audience gasps and rolls with laughter and the Asian woman puts her hands over her face and continues crying. It's very odd.