11/1/03:

    Strange, long dream... but I only remember bits and pieces of it. I think Gillian Anderson was in parts of it. At one point there was this massive doctor's office with plush carpet and running fountains and stuff... and all kinds of people were there to see doctors. Gillian anderson was there with her daughter... a girl of about 5 who looked like she had mixed ethnicity. There are lots of different doctors that use this huge, restaurant/mall-like waiting area.
    Gillian apparently has been waiting a long time to see some special doctor. Apparently not everyone gets a chance to see this doctor... and people just show up in the hopes that the doctor will be "in the mood" to see a patient - which is what he does... he only sees people when he feels like it and never sets up an appointment because there are hoards of people waiting there to see him 24 hours a day. Some people never get to see him. At one point a nurse comes and calls Gillian's name and she runs over to this screening area which is a nurse's desk where they ask you all kinds of questions. The other people waiting for that doctor applaud for Gillian and Gillian smiles. Gillian runs over, she has all these papers with her, and sits down next to the nurse. Gillian has a computer in front of her just like the nurse. They both start entering stuff into their computers simultaneously. This is the preliminary procedure for seeing the special doctor.
    Meanwhile... this whole time, Gillian's daughter has been sitting with a group of adults in a circle of chairs listening to a man speak - in another part of the room. Suddenly I see other people look at Gillian's daughter and start to go "Oops!" and "Uh-oh!" and I look over at the daughter and she is throwing up what looks like little bits of Coca Cola onto a little spot on the carpet. I run over and get Gillian myself. I shake her shoulder because it's hard to get Gillian's attention away from the computer screen and I say "Gillian! Look... your daughter!" and Gillian turns around and sees her daughter sitting in the chair being sick and she says "Oh no!" and runs over to attend to her.

11/2/03:

    There was some scenario where I was on what looked like 5th avenue, uptown, laying on the sidewalk with a group of people I don't know, right in front of a fancy glass door with some people I did not know. We're just laying there and people are walking right past us and cars are right out on the street. It is daytime, mild weather, and maybe a little cloudy. There was a girl there, laying on her back... and we were both talking about how as small children, we were not really "aware" of all the things around us. We only were concerned with things right in front of us, or that we were dealing with right then... and as small kids we didn't really have a "wide cognitive perception" of our surroundings. We talked about how we both visited NYC at that age and how ineffective the city's impact on us was at that age. We also talked about the day, when we were a little older, that we both "woke up" to our surroundings and started taking everything in at once. The girl's story involved her being handed a giant silver cup for some reason. There is also a white and orange cat hanging around the door. I keep thinking the cat wants to come into the glass door... it keeps rubbing up against it... but when I open the door it just stands there and stares at me.

11/3/03:

    I'm living in some apartment in NYC that is not my own. I also seem to be a woman in this dream. My apartment also looks like a Japanese apartment... walls made of what looks like white plastic and an interestingly economical use of space. I seem to be on an upper floor... as there is a pair of glass doors that lead out to a kind of upper courtyard thing that I share with other tenants (that does not look out over the side of the building - just up into the sunny blue sky). I seem to have just returned from a long trip. It is daytime, and I am looking at this one barren room near the back of my apartment. I see there is a built-in book shelf on the wall near the door. I decide that this is where I need to put every book and magazine that I own... because I am thinking of using this room as a guest room... and that way when my guests are staying here they can read books and stuff if they have insomnia.
    Soon I notice a lot of commotion going on outside in the terrace/courtyard thing. I go look and see a photography crew setting up a bunch of equipment and some girls lounging around wearing men's button-down shirts and panties and lots of jewelry. The women are really styled and made up nice. There is one black lady, one blond and one redhead. They are all beautiful and somehow I know that this is a Penthouse magazine shoot. I'm kind of watching through the glass and soon the blond girl, who is short and kind of pudgy comes and knocks on my glass door. I open it and we start talking. She asks me if she can "...wear some of my clothes please" because she "...hates the clothes that the magazine gave her to wear." She speaks in a deep Texas-drawl. I look down at her clothes and she has on this ivory colored silk western-styled shirt with copper collar clips and jeweled pocket linings... with one of those leather cord western necktie things that fastens at the collar with some kind of medallion. And she has on ivory colored silk panties and lots of blue turquoise jewelry. I tell her that yes she can look through my closet and find whatever she likes. She smiles real big and says thanks. She walks over to a wardrobe I have in the middle of my living room and starts looking through it.

11/4/03:

No dreams.

11/5/03:

Tomorrow...

11/6/03:

    I am standing in the middle of my living room drinking a cup of coffee. I am looking towards my window... and I see that it is cloudy outside, daytime. On the bottom half of the glass of the window... I see several cord plugs (electrical, phone line, cable cord, etc., plus several that I can't identify - about eight in all) just kind of plugged into the glass of the window. They are at a perfect perpendicular angle to the glass and seem to just support themselves against the glass... like they are somehow invisibly plugged into it. I just look at it like it's totally normal. I somehow know that the outside air through the glass an conduct electricity and binary information for these cords.

11/7/03:

Very strange dream:
    I seem to be working for this guy that seems to be a combination of an editor I once knew, and a rich old couple who owned a gallery uptown (that I worked at for a few years). In the dream, this guy owns a gallery in New York City and he and his wife spend a lot of time in France. The times he is in France is when I am hired to stay and watch the gallery. The New York city in my dream doesn't seem old at all... but seems to be a complex combination of modern office complexes and buildings and plazas and shopping centers and parking garages. It looks like a pristine, wealthy new city. No old buildings at all.
    There also seems to be this "thing" that the owner of the gallery has taught me while I was working for him. He somehow taught me how to make myself invisible at night... so I could wander around places undetected. The way I do this is a little difficult, and involves a kind of incantation and some physical and mental excercises. It all seems designed to make your mind and body connect to a certain "mood" or "wavelength" that exists in the universe which allows you to become invisible... and also maybe transport your body (or soul) to another location in the universe... or even travel through time. It's not an exact science... and even if you do the incantation right... it might not always work, as it relies on lots of different as-yet-unknowable variables that exist in the universe.
    The "incantation" is this: You have to be alone, indoors, inside some kind of structure. It has to be nighttime (as it only works at night). You have to find some area in the structure that is a long hallway... and this hallway has to have a mirror at one end. You will begin the incantation at the end of the hallway without the mirror... and walk towards the end with the mirror as you practice the incantation (explained below). This length of the hall can be kind of short, or very long... as it doesn't really matter because this hallway with the mirror at the end will act as kind of a "runway" for you to "take off" into the invisible/time/space-travel state once you reach the mirror end... and even then... you will only "take off" if everything happened correctly in the incantation (otherwise you'll just stop at the mirror).
    I seem to have attempted this incantation several times... and accomplished it successfully a few of the times. This particular evening... I am at the man's gallery (it's closed - they are in France), and it is night time. The gallery is a long series of rooms. The rooms are connected by open doorways... and each room... as it goes the length of the gallery...  goes up a few steps, like split-level architecture. The inside of the gallery looks more like the apartment of a wealthy, older person. The walls are very ornate... almost rococo. There are mirrors and gilded gold edges all over everything... chandeliers too. At the end of the gallery space... in the last room... is a huge arrangement of mirrors. So, of course I am going to attempt to transform myself into invisibility via the incantation. So I start the series of mental exercises and vocalizations as I slowly walk from one end of the gallery ...up to the mirrored end.
    The incantation calls for me to look at mirrored end and mentally arrange in my head that, even though I will be walking forward, I am actually "going backwards". This is very important... I must fool my brain into thinking my body is moving backwards in space even though it is walking forward... and keeping my conscious mind fooled like this is one of the hardest parts of the incantation. If I do it right... as I walk along... I will see a strange, white tunnel of kind-of light appear out of the air... and I will just kind of "glom" onto this hallway and begin traveling through it. Once I am in the hallway... I thin must sat out loud to myself "I am going backwards... I am going backwards..." over and over. This vocalization will complete the spell... and it should work correctly if I have reached that point. The tunnel will act as a kind of loophole in time and space and I will either travel through time, to another location, or become invisible. My goal this time is to become invisible.
    I do the incantation and walk towards the end... everything goes correctly and I reach the light tunnel. As I do... I imagine what I am going to do once I become invisible. I already know. I am going to go to The Metropolitan Museum of Art and walk all around it when it's closed. I'll go into all the storage spaces that the public isn't allowed in... just wander around and look at everything. This sounds really fun to me. As I am walking through the light tunnel I suddenly realize that I will only be invisible... not have the ability to walk though walls. How will I get through all the locked doors at the closed museum? I keep walking along and thinking about this. Maybe I should have transported myself to another location instead of making myself invisible! But wait... then I will be visible... and locked inside whatever museum location I end up in... this is no good. A security guard will spot me! And I may not find a proper area (a hallway with a mirror at the end) to do the incantation again to leave the closed, locked museum. Then I'll be trapped until it opens or I am discovered... which will be bad. All this is running through my head as I am walking through the light tunnel and saying "I am going backwards..." over and over. I guess I decide to just finish making myself invisible... and then just wander around the city at night and maybe find something interesting to do.
    But as I am walking through the tunnel... I start to notice the edges of the foggy tunnel are giving way... and I appear to be materializing in a small village in France. It is daytime in the village. I seem to have transported myself to the man's French villa vacation home by mistake! I know that the gallery owner and his wife are there. Oops!
    Well it all seems to have resolved itself because suddenly there is a scenario shift. I am back at the gallery and it is the next day I guess. I am working at the gallery... answering the phone and stuff. The owner is there... having taken a flight that morning that somehow reached NYC in an amazingly short amount of time. It is daytime. I am in the first... most lowest room, at the desk. And the owner is in the next room... higher up... sitting at his own desk. The phone rings and some guy on the line first asks me if he can speak to the gallery owner (which I tell him no), then he asks me for some information about a party or photography exhibition reception that is going to happen in France that very evening (in the village where the man's French vacation home is). He is asking me if he can get on the guest list. He tells me that the gallery owner does not know him... but if I could ask him if he could come. He starts telling me all about himself... he works for blah blah magazine and has had his photos published in blah blah book and is a renowned photographer because of blah blah... I write all this down on a little 3'x5' white card with blue ballpoint pen. I tell the man on the phone that "...it shouldn't be a problem." I then put the man on hold and walk up into the next room where the gallery owner is sitting at his desk. He is eating crackers with salmon and cheese on them. I am aware that he could overhear what I was saying on the phone to the man the whole time. I start to explain to him that this man wants to go the the reception in France this evening (which the gallery owner is apparently going to fly right back to France for today). He has a mouthful of crackers as he says angrily "No! No! Do not allow just anyone to call up and get themselves invited! Tell him it's a private event!" He seems pretty pissed. So I go back down to my desk and get on the phone and say to him "I'm sorry, the owner of the gallery is not here at the moment and you can't speak to him... I just realized that the event tonight is a private function and only a few friends of the gallery owner and his wife are invited." I hear the man cursing me out as I hang the phone up.
    Then I go up and talk to the gallery owner. I tell him about how in the gallery last night I conducted the invisible/space/time incantation that he taught me... and how it successful it was. I don't mention how I ended up at his French village. He listens intently as I tell him about how I did it... and I point to the mirrored room and say "...and I used that mirrored room as the end of the runway!" He looks at me as I talk... in the same way a teacher looks at one of his students. As I am talking... I look down at the mirrored room and realize it is identical to one of my father's walk-in closets that he had in one of the houses I grew up in. I can see my dad's shoes and belts and ties and shirts and wallets and jewelry and everything... in little wooden shelves and hangers amongst the mirrors. It doesn't just look like it... it IS my father's closet back there.
    Then a scenario shift: I am in bed with the gallery owner, in the lowest room of the gallery. There is a bed there for some reason. There is a TV next to us. We are nude under the covers and kind of cuddling. He has the TV remote in his hand. We are hugging and I start to feel what feels like a third hand on my back. Is someone behind me? I turn around and yell "What's that!?" and we both look behind me and realize it was just the covers and it felt like a hand. We both laugh at this.

11/8/03:

    I'm with Herbert and we are in some suburban setting that reminds me of (is?) Plano, Texas. We are walking around the inside of a store that is on the second floor of an outdoor shopping center. It is sunny outside and Wintertime. The store we are in is the upper floor of a McDonald's. We are in a long, white hallway that has several doors that open into little white rooms on the upper floor of the McDonald's. These little white rooms are VIP rooms for private parties at McDonald's - if anyone would want to do that. The rooms are very small and look like little doctor's offices - all white with formica counters and cabinets and overhead fluorescent lighting. Herbert and I are looking for a party that is being held in one of these rooms. We finally find the room. We go in and it's full of people (about eight people) and everyone is standing under the harsh fluorescent light... no one is saying anything and it's very awkward.
    Suddenly... a weird scenario shift: I am still at the same party... but now we have been transformed from the weird VIP McDonald's room to the inside of a white compact car (a Toyota?) that is parked in the residential area of the suburb (still very Plano-looking... or is). Everyone is still sitting in the seats in the same positions that they were standing in the little McDonald's room. It's very crowded. The car is off. The sun is shining through the windows and the wind is howling outside... still very, very sunny - totally blue sky - but pretty cold. No one is saying anything, it's still awkward. I guess the party is inside the car now. Suddenly someone spies Anna Wintour walking by the car. Everyone inside the car applauds as she walks right past the car and down the street. As she walks by... Rupert Murdoch appears to be following behind her. They are walking along in the sun and the wind is blowing their clothes, Anna is holding her hair... everyone in the car just applauds and applauds as they walk by.

11/9/03:

No dreams.

11/10/03:

    Briefly remember something about an old woman, fat, with a kind of giant, Louis XIV-ish, powdered wig on... and heavy theatrical make-up. In fact she may have been a man in Louis XIV traditional garb. She/he was presiding over some people (one of which may have been me) in what looked like an outdoor English-style garden. I think she/he may have had a gold, old-fashioned telephone in her hand... or maybe they were opera spectacles.

11/11/03:

No dreams.

11/12/03:

    I was observing the following scenario: There's some guy in a high-rise apartment. He is a writer. He has a view, from his high-rise (somehow), of two different rooms in a karaoke bar/club down on the ground level. One karaoke room in this club has a stage that is very big and very expensive and professional looking. The room is very formally set up and the patrons in this room look very well-dressed and polite. Everyone is drinking expensive cocktails, brought to their candel-lit tables by cocktail waitresses. If anyone wants to get on stage and sing karaoke in this room... they are introduced by an M.C. in a tuxedo... and they get up in front of everyone and sing while a teleprompter with all the song's lyrics scrolls in front of them. There is even a video projection that plays behind the person as they sing... with images that correspond to the particular song. There is also some kind of weird, old-fashioned computer-like machine to the right of the stage wall... with blinking lights and wires sticking out of it. It seems to be on and in a constant state of processing information.
    In the other room of the karaoke bar/club... on the other side of the club (seperated by a long hallway) is the the exact opposite kind of set up and atmosphere. It's still a bar with a karaoke stage and everything... but this room is more of a dive, hole-in-the-wall, punk, kind-of set-up. There is a simple wooden stage in the corner with a single red light on it. The karaoke machine is this mechanical, jukebox-looking thing next to the stage that you have to put a dollar in and pick the song you want. The microphone is really cheap and barely works. The bar is filled with smoke and all they serve is beer. The patrons are in jeans and a couple of them look kind of rough. A good mix of freaks and riff-raff and normals. The atmosphere is wild and totally over the top. People are laughing and screaming and getting on the wooden stage one by one and singing at top drunken volume into the overloaded microphone while everyone cheers them on... beer bottles get thrown and smashed... it's a total party.
    Also... in the second, rougher room... is a giant pig nose on the left side of the stage wall. It's just hanging on the wall there like some kind of weird art sculpture. It has smoke coming out of it's nostrils and maybe some slime. It actually looks pretty real. No one seems to question this giant pig nose in the rough karaoke bar... they just keep partying out of control. This giant pig nose keeps loudly "sniffing" and picking up information from the second room... then feeding this information (through the wall) to the computer machine that is on stage in the other, more formal karaoke room. This computer is supposedly picking up information from the room it is in... but in actuality... it is using the pig nose in the second room to secretly pick up the vibes from that room... then using that information as it's own.
    The writer up in the high rise apartment is being made to write an article for a newspaper about the first karaoke room. He is being told to get all his information from the computer in the first karaoke room (which he can read somehow). He is unaware that this information is actually coming from the second karaoke room, via the pig nose. He starts to write an article about how "fun" and "wild" and "out of control" the party in the first karaoke room is. This article will be published in a major newspaper.
    There is also a young man, about 18 years old, entering the karaoke club. He is with a female date. He is paying the cover charge and being asked by the doorman which karaoke room he and his date would like to enter. He somehow knows about the pig nose computer information scandal and he is paused, rubbing his chin with his hand pensively, and trying to decide what the right thing to do is.

11/13/03:

    I am in some house hat is an exact replica of one I lived in briefly as a kid in Pennsylvania. Even the neighborhood is the same. I seem to be in NYC though... even though I am actally at a neighborhood in Pennsylvania. I live in the house with a bunch of people, artists and such. There is one point where we are all trying to catch this mechanical toy ladybug that's hoping around on the floor. There's another part where there may be a mad killer on the loose in the house and we are all trying to get away from him.
    Soon I am over at the house next door (which looks exactly like the one that was there). One of the artists friends lives there (a girl)... but there is also a woman that lives there, an older woman with long straight blond hair. This female artist friend takes care of the house while the older woman is away... which is often. I am over there with her and suddenly my old friend Blaine shows up. It appears that he had moved away from NYC for a few years but is now back. He knows the girl that takes care of this woman's house and they start talking a lot. Blaine says hi to m and I kind of sit there and watch the two of them have a conversation. I am thinking about how cute Blaine looks (we dated for a while) and thinking about my past and some of the horrible people I had relationships with. Blaine seems to now be dating this girl artist friend.
    Later it is night time and the three of us are in the woman's house. There appears to be, yet again, a killer loose in the house and we are all trying to escape. There is some thing where we are climbing on ceiling beams and rafters in the house... secretly. I think the long-haired blond older woman may have been with us. She was wearing knee-high black leather boots.

11/14/03:

    Hmmmmm... I seem to have gotten mixed up on my dates and am a day ahead on the number. I'll just do two 14th's:
    I am in some large mansion-type house. It is a new house. There is a kind of wide spiral staircase in the foyer... and a banister that overlooks the ground level and front door from where the stairs lead up to. It is nighttime and there is a huge party going on. There are crowds of people all talking and laughing... music is playing. There is a kind of hanging light fixture hanging down from the ceiling. I keep getting onto the light fixture and swinging down or dipping down into the crowd. If I'm not there, I'm up on the second landing... peering down or talking down to people through the wooden banister bars.

11/14/03:

    I am in the old house I grew up in at Big Lake Park in Plano, Texas. It is nighttime. The time is the present... and I am back living in the house (alone?) for some reason. The inside of the house is quite different... but still the same house. I have received a phone call from two F.B.I./military/police types who want to come spend the night at my house for some kind of investigation they are conducting. I tell them that they can come over.
    After I hang up the phone I go to the computer and log onto a gay sex hook-up service. I browse through all the guys in my area and chat with a few. I arrange for some big muscle-y guy with a handlebar mustache to come over to my house. Soon... the F.B.I./police people ring my front door. One is a woman with long, bush-y red hair and the other one is a man. And the man is the same man I arranged to come over to have sex! It's the same one! I tell the guy this and he says something like "Yes! I thought that was a pretty wild coincidence too!" I think it's a very strange coincidence indeed but think nothing of it.
    The police people tell me that they need to spend the night in a particular bedroom on the left side of the house while they work all night on the case. I lead them into the bedroom (which didn't exist in the original house). On the walls of the room... in several places, are these little intercom things that have blinking lights. They start unpacking all their gear... computers, headphones, bullet-proof vests, radar listening devices and stuff. As I look around I realize that this room is identical to the study in another old childhood friend's Plano house. I leave the two cops to do their thing and turn to walk out of the room. The cop with the handlebar mustache grabs my arm and looks at me and says "...and later! You and I? Right?" I tell him yes. He is a lot taller than me and I think right then that he looks like a gay Colt model.
    Soon some time has passed and both cops come out of the room and into the kitchen. They tell me they need to sleep. The female cop says she will sleep in the room they were in... the male cop tells me he will sleep in the room on the other side of the house, on the first floor (which was my bedroom in the original house). The male cop is wearing this pair of loud-color print Speedo undies and an open bathrobe. He walks through the house to the bedroom and goes to sleep in my room. The female cop goes to her room.
    Soon the front doorbell rings. I run to the door and see, in a shadow from the front porch light casting onto the frosted glass on the two front doors... the silhouettes of three young high school girls. They have 80's-style hair and jewelry and clothes (I can tell from the shadows somehow). I open the door and indeed the shadows were correct. Three high school girls, two white and one black, in full 80's clothes, hair, jewelry and make-up. They are laughing and seem really worked up about something. They are pointing over to the right side of the house and saying "Uh... yes. sir. We were walking along the sidewalk along that side of your house over there... and we saw through the blinds in that window over there some weird sex stuff going on in that room! And... uh, well we decided we should go check it out! Can we do that!?" The room they are talking about is where the handlebar mustache cop/internet sex date guy is sleeping (which was my room in the original house).
    I tell them yes... and they go charging through the house over to the bedroom. They are going through every room, taking the long route and excitedly laughing and pointing everything in the house out to each other. They keep stopping and showing things to each other... screaming and laughing each other's names... going "Oh c'mere! Look at this clear flower vase with white orchids and marbles in the bottom!" and "Look at this white couch!" and "Oh my god look this refrigerator has an automatic ice dispenser!" It becomes clear that they just wanted to come in to look at the house. Soon the handlebar mustache cop/internet sex date guy walks sleep-ily out of my bedroom in his Speedo and open bathrobe and says "What's all this disturbing noise?"

11/15/03:

    I seem to be back in the same location as last night's dream... my old neighborhood in Big Lake Park in Plano, Texas. It is daytime and cloudy outside. I am with two girls with long, straight, brown hair. I have met these two girls while strolling along the concrete walkway that winds through Big Lake Park. I don't know the girls - but I know they have lived their whole lives in Plano, Texas. The surroundings I am in are familiar but do not look like anything I recognize exactly from my past. For some reason... I seem to be trying to get back "home" ...not my old house in Big Lake Park like I have dreamed about so many times... but this time "home" seems to represent a kind of vague idea of New York City.
    As me and the two girls travel through the winding, lush, green park... things get more and more complicated. Instead of a concrete walkway... there seems to be these series of giant concrete disks that plant themselves halfway into the ground (perpendicular to the ground - like shoving a penny halfway into sand) right out of thin air and form a path. These disks are about half a foot thick and about four feet wide. They are made of gray concrete but some of them seem to be made of smoky white glass. They just seem to magically appear in front of us... planting themselves in the ground out of the air... and form a path that we must follow. We can't touch the grass and have to hop from disc to disc once it is planted into the ground. All the discs lined up in the ground look like a stack of dominoes ready to be knocked over. It proves to be rather tricky... almost like we are characters in a videogame. We walk along as each of the discs fall out of the air and lands in place... we start going faster and faster as the discs start to appear into place faster and faster... we really get a momentum going.
    Soon we are all three just humming along through Plano via the magical discs... hopping on each one at a very fast speed... and we reach a slight grassy hill-y incline area. The discs keep appearing and we just follow the incline down to the bottom. We go through an area between two giant boulders and keep going down, the appearing discs form a path. Soon, we reach what looks like this giant courtyard in the ground. It's kind of the size of an empty warehouse... yet set into the ground like a giant basement with no building on top of it. There is kind of a roof, sort of, we are peering into it through a big opening in the top. The walls of the room are made of bits of the same smoky white glass that some of the discs were made of - all bunched together erratically. We are just looking down into the large, weird room. We are sitting on the grass and the need for the magic discs seems to have passed. One of the girls I am with points to what looks like a little opening way at the bottom of the room... a little black rectangle that leads to somewhere dark. It is open... but seems obstructed by a few layers of very thin white glass. She tells me that this is the route we need to take... through that opening... to continue our journey.
    I climb down into the room while the two girls wait up at the top. As I go down into the room... I realize that it is actually an old courtyard to an old apartment complex... and the panes of glass are actually people's windows (several stories of apartments). The courtyard is totally run down... in ruins even. I walk over to the rectangular opening and start bashing through the thin layers of glass obstructing it with my shoe (I seem to have black combat boots on). It makes a lot of noise as I do this... which echoes through the whole chamber. I keep smashing and smashing and trying to make a path through the opening for us. Soon... a woman opens her apartment window on the third level of the courtyard and pops her head out. She has a bathrobe on, and gray and blond hair, and looks old. She shouts "Hey! Hey sop making all that noise! Hey you! Look at me! Stop making all that noise people are trying to sleep here!" and I just ignore her and keep smashing more and more glass around the opening with my boot. She keeps yelling at me to stop and to pay attention to her. I look up at her and I see the girls way up above her... on the grass at the lip of the opening to the underground courtyard. They are just watching me. I turn around and continue to smash glass with my boot and as I do I start yelling "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up you stupid single mom bitch! You are just a stupid single mom! Shut up you stupid bitch! SHUT UP!!! SHUT UP!!!" and I keep smashing and smashing and shouting and shouting and I really seem to be getting some rage out.
    Then, suddenly... I stop and look behind me. All is quiet and I see that the woman who was at her window is gone. Also, the two girls are gone. I look around and don't see a soul. A spooky, gentle breeze blows through the underground courtyard (cool - from the overcast sky) and rattles some dead leaves and shards of broken glass. I realize I am totally alone. Were the two girls traveling with me and the woman at her window even there at all? Did they even exist in the first place?

11/16/03:

    I am looking at a farm setting (it almost looks like a cartoon). I see this row of  vegetables place themselves in a curved row in the dirt... kind of dotting a line by appearing out of thin air and placing themselves halfway in the ground (just like the concrete discs from yesterday's dream). They each are a different vegetable but are all the same size and shape somehow. Each one of their colors is pale and faded... or darkened. Soon I hear this kind of dream "voice-over" that is talking to me and says "This is your mind!" I just kind of look at the scene and contemplate whether to inform the voice-over guy that those are vegetables, not my brain. As I do... I see that some of the vegetables start to get enveloped by what looks like black paint being poured over their surface (you don't see the stream of paint, just the paint slowly oozing over the vegetable from top to bottom).

11/17/03:

No dreams.

11/18/03:

    I remember some brief scenario in I think an IHOP restaurant. I was having a business meeting/pancake breakfast with a group of guys. We all had briefcases open around the table with papers strewn about. I said something that surprised the guy that seemed to be in charge... and he looked at me really quickly and with surprise. That's all I remember.

11/19/03:

    I am walking into a weird kind of computer-simulated environment that represents a junior high school I went to as a kid in Plano, Texas. I kind of "know" that what I am walking into is some kind of virtual reality environment... even though it looks incredibly real... but sometimes I also get the sense that the school is the actual school itself, and not an artificial environment at all. The sensation keeps switching back and forth.
    I am walking up to the front of the school. School just let out an hour or so ago... so the students are mostly gone but the faculty is still around.  It is sunny and windy outside. I walk inside the front doors and quickly look around to see what has changed. I know that I am seeing the school as it is now... years later. Nothing much has changed. I walk around and soon start to wonder if any security or anything is going to stop me... just some guy wandering into a school and walking around. I pass a group of teachers and I breeze past my old art teacher Ms. Bunn. I can't believe she's still working here! I decide not to say hello to her. I start to wonder if I will run into Ms. Maloney (even though she was at a different school). I just keep wandering around and soon I run into some blond girl with a strange looking face. We both stop and look at each other... and seem to recognize each other. We talk and keep trying to figure out where we know each other from.
    Then suddenly I am looking at a computer screen that is suddenly to my left. I am trying to load some pictures of something I have loaded on Google. I get one of those "bomb" symbol things which symbolizes that the computer has frozen and crashed. Except the bomb symbol in my dream is kind of colorful and animated. I reboot it manually and hope that it is not broken.

11/20/03:

    I'm living in some urban area that I do not recognize. My "routine" in the dream is to ride my bike to and from a location (work?) everyday. I ride along a busy business street that has a lot of intersections and businesses and stuff. The sun is always shining brightly on the street. Sometimes when I ride along I see some weird guy in one of the alleyways and along the street. He is very skinny and looks kind of young and gay. He also appears to possibly be homeless. I only see him from afar. Day in day out he's always there. And he always watches me as I pass by.
    The weird thing is, he seems to be paralyzed from the waist down, yet he doesn't have a wheelchair or crutches. He seems to have a series of things with wheels on them (a skateboard, one of those wheel-around I.V. drip things with some kind of board attached to it, an old office chair with wheels, etc...) that he uses to get from wherever he sleeps at night (down one end of an alley that runs perpendicular to the street) to the edge of the street and then to somewhere across the street to the other side of where the alley opens onto the street. The area he stays in during the day is this place that looks like a gutted-out store front... with lots of plywood nailed around and plastic sheeting. When he gets to the alley entrance and them makes his way across the street to the gutted-out store area... he uses one of those flat wood crates you see at loading docks... the crate has wheels attached on the bottom... and he kind of shuffles off his skateboard or office chair or whatever and gets onto the crate and lies on it like a bed... then rolls across the street with a piece of plastic sheeting over him. Then he stays like that at the gutted out store all day.
    One day as I'm passing on my bike I hear someone call my name. A voice says "Mark!" I look over and I see it's that weird homeless guy. He is trying to crawl off his skateboard onto his flat crate thing and get across the street. He's looking at me to see if I react to his calling my name. I walk over to him and stand next to him. He starts talking to me kind of in the same way that a homeless person will mix real conversation with the occasional gibberish. He just keeps talking and talking as he gets on his crate with wheels and then starts to roll across the street to his spot. I walk along and listen and help block traffic (which he seems oblivious to) as he crosses. He just wheels across the street, blabbing away.
    When we get to his spot he stops and is just laying there talking. He starts to ask me about things I have going on in my life... stuff he's read about on my web page and stuff. He's very complimentary and nice. Very much a character. As I watch him talk, laying in his bed crate thing with a plastic sheet over him like a bed sheet, I notice that he's very, very sick. He looks like he's in the advanced stages of AIDS. I see a really bad pattern of cracks and sores on one side of his face... like decay. He's very young and looks like he used to be very good looking. He's very funny and comical and has lots of personality despite his horrible life. This is where he lives and what his life is like. This is what he does every day. He seems to be very excited to have some company but doesn't let it show. I feel a great amount of empathy for him. I decide that I will visit him every day to and from my way to work, and help him if I can. I sense that he will probably be dead soon.

11/21/03:

    All I remember is being in some house that looked like it was maybe a nice trailer home. I think I was in Tennessee. I was in the living room with two people. The TV was on. It was daytime outside and sunny. There was someone that looked like my friend Tony in the room. He was drinking water from a plastic gallon jug. There was someone else sitting next to me on the couch and Tony kept chugging from the gallon jug and was saying to us "They say if you want to loose weight you should drink lots of water. You should drink a big glass of water before each meal. One during the meal. And also one after."

11/22/03:

    No dreams.

11/23/03:

    I'm in some kind of massive toy store. There are holes in the floors of each level with brass poles you can slide down on (like in a fire house). I am following some store manager around. We slide down a pole together to one level. He is young and skinny and has on a striped button-down shirt and tie and I think suspenders. His formal wear looks very 80's via GQ magazine. He keeps arranging things on the shelves and I keep seeing the profile of his face. At one point he looks at me. when he looks right at me his head kind of grows in perspective and he seems to become very powerful and God-like.

11/24/03:

    All I remember is watching a woman in a purple and yellow, 1920's-style "flapper" hat (and outfit) drinking very daintily and properly from a cup and saucer. The hand she was using to hold the cup with was gargantuan and deformed. The skin on the hand was white and soft... but the hand was mishapen-ly huge, and the fingers like tree branches. The rest of her was normal looking. She just kept sipping her tea as if she was not unusual.

11/25/03:

No dreams.

11/26/03:

    I dreamed my parents and me were in some unknown room. It was night outside and stormy. My dad was yelling at me. He was pointing to my massage table and screaming that it was improperly built and could fall apart. My mother was agreeing. I started screaming back at my father that it was fine. This enraged him and he started yelling louder. He then walked over to the table and smashed one of the legs with something he had in his hand. Then he pounded on the top of it with a sledgehammer repeatedly until it started to give. It took a long time. Then, finally, it collapsed. Then he looked at me and angrily said "See!?" and my mom concurs "Yea... see?"
    Then a total scenario change. I am in some remote, sea-side resort-like town. I may be in England. It is always overcast and cool and rainy and windy. Daytime. I seem to be attending school at some college in the town. I live in a dorm that is a very old building. On the ground floor that have community bathrooms, which are large, very long rooms that have rows of toilet stalls and showers and sinks in an adjoining room. There are always people in the bathrooms. The walls of that room are made of old concrete... gray. I spend a lot of time in the bathroom for some reason. Whenever I enter the bathroom, it's hard to tell if I am in the boys or the girls bathroom. At one point, I am looking around at the bathroom and I see there is a door way at the back of the room that I know leads to a private little bathroom with it's own toilet and sink and everything. I walk down to the door and enter it and lock it behind me. Ahhh! Some privacy! I look and see that the walls of this room are wooden... like stained wood paneling, very nice. There is an old, frosted glass window up and to the left of the toilet. I also see there is a large wooden dresser placed in the center of the room... it is blocking my access to the toilet. I know for some reason that the dorm janitor placed it here because he thought no one would use this room (perhaps no one is supposed to?) I start to try and lift the dresser out of the way, it is very hard. I notice the dresser is made of the same wood as the walls.
    Then I seem to kind of magically "enter" the dresser and it transports me to some sea-side area outside that has cliffs and then long stretches of flat, concrete, man-made things that look like parking lots. There are natural cave tunnels that lead from one flat concrete area to another... all dotted along the shore line. It is cold and windy and overcast and the wind is causing the waves to violently crash on the cliffs and splash onto the flat areas. I'm just walking along, looking at everything. Other people are walking along the area too. I know I am in England... or somewhere far away from home... or maybe even far from the bathroom I was just in. I keep walking along, then I decide to change directions and turn around and go the way I was coming.
    Suddenly... a scenario shift. Whole days seem to am now at some movie set. I think I am in Los Angeles. It's always sunny and daytime. I am working on a film... doing script work or something. I spend my days in a large trailer working on stuff, while the actors and crew work on set. I have a woman there that woks with me. Actor Wallace Langham is in the film. I find this exciting because I am such a fan. Every day, sometime a few times a day, Wallace has to walk through my trailer and he always says hello. Every day I start bringing really interesting books or magazines or things to read... or maybe strange films to watch on the VCR... I bring these things just so when Wallace walks by and says hello and asks me what I'm doing I can say "Oh I'm reading this book on..." and it will make me seem like a really fascinating, interesting person. This happens a couple of times and Wallace is very nice and feigns interest most of the time. I feel kind of humiliated for trying so hard to impress someone... plus I am aware that Wallace is aware that I'm doing this. Wallace always just talks to me like "Oh! Interesting! And what is that about?" in a kind of fake, polite way... then he leaves. He's being really cool about it and I feel ridiculous.
    Then a scenario shit... I'm back at the sea-side cliff area... continuing to walk back in the direction I came from. As I walk along... my surroundings totally change and I realize that I am now walking through Big Lake Park in Plano, Texas. I am walking in the direction of my old house. I keep passing along the concrete path... along the green grass. I also keep walking between areas that will have two large boulder rocks on either side of the path... like a natural "gate". There rock formations are similar to the ones in part of my 11/15/03 dream (not the disc ones, but the ones me and the girls pass between near the end).
    Then, suddenly... I am back in the bathroom. I kind of "walk" out of the dresser and exit the private bathroom. The bathroom is kind of crowded with guys in prom tuxedoes and girls in formal dresses. I see a lot of girls. I walk along and I keep overhearing conversations about people trying to figure out if they are in the boys or girls bathroom or not. No one can tell. I hear this one girl in a loud, long yellow dress yell really loud "Oh my god, we're in the girl's bathroom!" as she grabs her boyfriend's hand and starts to run out. I make it out of the bathroom and into the large dorm hall.

11/27/03:

No dreams.

11/28/03:

    I'm living in some unknown town with Jim. It is Wintertime (not too cold) and sunny). We live in this strange house that seems to be an old, small home... but that also has had ramshackle "additions" added to it over the years. Parts of the home have extended rooms made of plywood scraps and plastic sheeting. Some of extra the rooms have dirt floors. Many of the homes in this area are like this. I also know that Gregory, and Amy live in homes nearby. Jim and I seem to be in the process of moving from one of these homes to another. We also have a really old, crappy car that we use to get around town with. We seem really happy about our new life together. There seems to be an area of town that has a huge meeting center, like an arena, or mall or giant library.
    One night Jim and I are walking around... I think going to the arena (there seems to be an event going on that a lot of people are going to), and I become aware that my entire family, extended and immediate, are coming to visit me. Jim and I are walking through the giant parking lot of the arena and I keep checking my cell phone (which has a little computer screen on it) to communicate with my dad who is en route with my whole family, trying to find me. As I am looking at the image on the phone, I have two small "visions": One is of me inside what looks like the massive ruins of a very old Spanish church... somewhere in Spain (Barcelona?) It is very sunny outside, Summer, and the bright sunlight is throwing beams into the inside through the holes in the walls that used to be windows. Everything is in golden and sepia-toned light, and warm. I am at one end of the massive room attending to something... and some woman with with reddish brown hair that has been permed is with me. I think she is helping me. I never see her face. The second "vision" is on me in the ramshackle house from earlier in the dream. I am in a closet of the house, with the door open, and I am fiddling with some plastic toy. Jim and Amy are right outside the closet laughing really hard, and are making me crack up.
    Then suddenly, we are in another area of the parking lot and I see my family walking towards me. My dad is leading them, he looks old. Even grandparents that are dead are with the group. They walk over and my dad seems hurried and unhappy but greeting me out of a sense of duty. My whole family is looking around the parking lot like everything looks really alien. My brother suddenly runs over to me and pulls out a 100 dollar bill, which I know he got from my dad, and tries to place it in my hand. My mom lights up when he tries to do this, and looks to see what my reaction will be. I yell at him to put the money away and stop it. He gets really angry and runs over to my mother, who consoles him. My dad comes over to me and starts making small talk. I introduce Jim to everyone. Jim shakes all their hands. Jim then tells me that he's going to take the car and go run to the house and he'll meet up with all of us later. He runs off.
    I then see Jim, way off in the distance, in the little car, driving over little hills into a beautiful sunset. I somehow know that I am never going to see Jim again, for some strange reason having to do with him meeting my family. It's a horrible feeling. I look over at my family. They have really uncomfortable looks on their faces, and they're all standing there wondering what I'm going to show them in the town I live in. I feel awful. Behind them, there are junebugs buzzing around all the lights in the empty parking lot.

11/29/03:

    Tomorrow...

11/30/03:

    I'm living in a weird, altered version of my apartment. Domenic lives there with me. It is out apartment in NYC - but it seems to also be a white house in the middle of the country somewhere. It is daytime. I am trying to clean up the apartment because I have a massage client coming over at 4pm. I know that that client is my friend Michael Cavadias, for some reason. I tell Domenic that he has to leave because I have a client coming over. I see that in his room, Domenic is printing out papers from his computer on his printer. He has the printer on one side of the room... and the computer on the other. Every time he has to go from the printer to the computer, he gets inside this little orange truck... like a mini-one seater kind of vehicle for getting around ground maintenance jobs. I know he rented it just for this purpose. He then drives all the way over to the room with to his computer, then commands a new print, then returns with a new stack of paper for the printer. Whenever he does this I see that the perspective in his room is enormous. Like a great distance across. But whenever he is not in the truck, I see it is just a normal room. As he is out of the printer and is shuffling papers and looking at me, he says "I didn't know you would need me to leave for 4pm today. Let me hurry and finish."
    Then he gets back in his truck and drives to the computer and the perspective changes. When it does, I see the room has now transformed to a lush, outdoor setting - with rolling green hills and trees and a giant pond with geese. Then as I look at it I see that it is actually identical (or really is) the grounds of the company that my father used to work at when I was a kid in Texas... and that I remember seeing whenever we would visit his office or go swimming in the company's pool. I see Domenic way off in his truck at his computer. Except now he is out of the truck, wearing green overalls, and is tending to the grounds. His room has totally transformed to this location... and I realize that my view of the grounds, as I'm standing there in the doorway to his room, is the exact, 5th story view that my father used to have of the grounds from his corner office in the main building.