Bacon or Ewok

Lori was telling me a dream recently where she had made bacon. I thought that was a pretty cool dream. I mean, the smell of bacon, the taste of bacon, none of the annoying grease or calories. She disagreed. She said my recent dream was cooler.

I was standing on the bridge(?) of an AT-AT, up in the head(?) part. We were just standing still. It was cold and snowy. I guess we were supposed to be guarding some area or something. I was just standing there looking out the window. Bored. Every so often another person would some in to the cockpit(?), or I'd leave the cabin (seriously... what is this called?) to go back into the body of the vehicle to talk to someone. But we were definitely not moving. Oh, and the machine had a much smoother, glass head so when you stood in the front you had an expansive view. Must have been some pretty strong armored material that was transparent.

I was standing there looking out and I could see just in front and below was an Ewok curled up in a tree like a koala, sleeping. And it was annoying me because here we were in this massive beast of a machine and it was just sleeping as if it didn't even know we were there or worse yet, wasn't afraid of us. I knew it would be wrong to shoot it, and besides, I wouldn't be able to maneuver the guns around without moving the entire vehicle, but as I stood there drinking my coffee and looking at the cold terrain, its very presence in the tree was mocking me.

Finally I sat down at the controls, brought the engines online, and lowered the head and then shook it back and forth, shaking the tree and dislodging the Ewok.

Trapped In My Head

Ok, so I don't dream nearly enough. I think it's because I don't go to bed early enough and I don't sleep soundly enough. But when I do, they sure are random.

Tonight I woke up from a dream. At the earliest part, I was driving slowly around some tricky corners which had cliffs and water below and no guardrail. There was a car behind me annoyed at how fast I wasn't going and when it was finally straight enough to even look in the mirror, I saw it was a cop. Who raced past me as soon as the road widened to multiple lanes.

Shortly, I was at a stop light in the city, only now I was on my bike. I saw Monika and Simon walking and I rolled up to them. Simon recognized me but Monika didn't (because what was I doing riding a bike in Vancouver?) so I had some fun taunting her because she was sure she should know who I was. Eventually we were in a restaurant and they were being seated and the waiter was moving a nearby table so that I could stand there, still straddling my bike to continue to talk to them. I thought that was rude of me to be on my bike in the restaurant, so I eventually left. Can't recall if I pointed out to her who I was.

And then I was in an auditorium, on stage. In front of me were three little British street urchins, covered with dirt and wearing gray ripped clothing. They looked scared and nervous and somehow I knew they had been caught misbehaving. And next to me perched on a podium was Perry the Platypus. He rapped the edge of the dias with a conductors wand, lifted it high and the children began singing "You must be kind to Perry" I can't remember it now, but the song had a chorus and at least one verse.

But then the alarm went off.

Strike

I dreamt the other night that a bunch of my coworkers went on strike. I had been out of the office the day they decided that. When I came in and found out about it, I was immediately opposed to the plan, but it had been decided. So, they weren't talking to me.

And of course, the organization wasn't talking to me, either. They had turned off the lights and people were removing computers and desks and cube walls.

Randomly Puzzling

Just had a dream that I was one of a number of Richard Alpert-like people who didn't age only I had amnesia and was trying to figure out what was going on.

At our house, Angie was trying to convince Meredith (by phone) to delay Make Ahead Meal exchange day because Lori Lamb was there mad because she had forgotten to make a meal (but that Angie also knew of three other women who weren't ready to meet). In Lori's case because of some other huge thing that was going on in the dream that I now can't remember. (Angie had come over to watch our children because Lori and I both had things we had to run off and attend to.) In the dream, it was Lori's and my house, but it was really different. (The garage reminded me of the family's garage in Breaking Bad where Walt hid all the money in season 2.)

It also involved industrial espionage at the State Animal Licensing Bureau building at the State Capitol and whatever building had been on that site previously. (Some clues I gathered from a nearly park which had a big sign about the building.) And a separate site in Olympia where I was one of several people digging holes trying to find stuff before the other people did in the shadow of the big buildings. (Think of the desert land between the casinos and the 15 near Vegas for a similar look.) I thought the other people digging knew who I was, but I didn't know who they were.

I bluffed my way into the State Animal Licensing Bureau building (is there such a thing? Would they have their own building? With decent security?) And that Steve and Leslie and Della worked there. (Yeah, this dream was a massive collision of unrelated parts of my life.) And Steve or Leslie also might have been like me in the non-aging way but I wasn't sure yet.

And it was Pajama Day and I had unwittingly worn my Homer Simpsons sweats and Dunder Mifflin T-Shirt so I fit right in.

Just before I woke up, I was laying on the floor in a hallway and security was coming but I was having trouble getting up because I was laying on my arm too close to the wall, so I was flopping around trying to get enough space to be able to get up. Oh, and just before that, I had been at someone else's cube where I'd been hacking their computer and trying to figure out how to remove the profile for myself that I'd added to their Palm Pre.

I believe that this dream was seeded by: Recent episodes of CSI:Thursdays, LOST and The Mentalist, Lori's massive reorganization of a number of our storage areas yesterday, Carol's recent death, a building in Seattle that I saw on the news that was build in 2001 (and not even yet fully occupied that's going to be condemned before the end of the year), all the laundry I did yesterday all the discussions of cube/workspace/layout redesigns in our area we'd had at work lately, a recent viewing of all of the Bourne movies and an Engadget editorial yesterday suggesting the merger of HTC and Palm. And Facebook for all the collection of otherwise unrelated people all appearing in the same place.

But as for meaning, I can think of none. It was more of just the random firings of my brain as it sought to put order to all kinds of random things that have been fed into it recently.

Firestarterba

I dreamt that I was visiting a friend's apartment.  They had a Roomba that they had knitted a cozy for.  I was highly skeptical and pointed out that it would probably get stuck in the machine's wheels, catch fire, and then leave little pieces of burning cozy all over their apartment.  They dismissed the notion with a wave of their hand and I made a mental note that I should never stay at their apartment while recovering from any illness or surgery that left me immobile or unable to move on my own, lest the tiny little deathtrap decide then and there to start the robot uprising and kill us all in a miniature firestorm of molten, flaming knitted wool.

One of the things I find myself doing after a dream is trying to figure out what caused it... lack of sleep... watching Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles before bed... an article on Engadget about little robots who know when their owners are angry and run and hide.

Worst of all - you can buy costumes for your Roomba.   (I refuse to link to such sites, lest someone be encouraged to buy one of these slipcovers for their robot.)

I can almost see an animal costume, maybe even for someone who's alergic to real animals -- we're talking preschool animals: round circular single color bodies and little squares and triangles for facial features. 

But the "french maid" costume?  That's someone who needs to have their Roomba taken away.  That's wrong on several levels.

The Other Dreams

No dreams last night that I can remember, probably didn't sleep long enough to fall that deeply.

But since I opened the can on Monday saying I'd write about the dream where I might have killed someone, ok, here goes.  Not nearly as interesting now a day later.

Anyhow, a bunch of people were at a retreat.  The setting reminded me of a combination of Smoke Tree Ranch and The Lodge at Bellevue Square... a comfy, cozy place with a lot of people. Architecture of rock and glass, big fireplaces.  Makes me wish I still skied, to think of it now.  Skied is a really weird looking word.

We kept going into sessions to hear a guy speak, and then between sessions we'd hang out in the lobby.  Earlier in the conference, one of the conference goers had been shot, though the police could not find the gun or any evidence and had no suspects and seemed a little frustrated.  For some odd reason, I felt that maybe I was responsible, even though I couldn't remember pulling the trigger or even seeing the woman after she had died, did not have much interaction with her prior to her death, and nothing to suggest that I had been involved.  No clothes with bloodstains on them, no reddish skin on my forearms from vigorous hand-washing to get rid of gunshot residue.  As much as I wracked my brains, I couldn't come up with a motive, couldn't come up with any concrete or even circumstantial evidence that I had been involved, but there was just this nagging thing in the back of my head that said I had done in.

So, I was wrestling with whether I go to the police and inform them of my suspicions -- in case they found out on their own, would I be in a better position if I went to them first?  Or whether I just kept my mouth shut and figured if I couldn't even be sure myself, what could they possibly figure out?

I was still wrestling with that when I woke up.  Usually after I wake up, I think and ponder about that night's dream for some time, trying to remember it, trying to figure things out, trying to determine how I could have acted differently, and what kinds of clues I should have looked for to determine it was a dream.  While they are quite elusive, I am fascinated by lucid dreams and think I've participated in a few in my lifetime. 

Though, weirder, I've had a few dreams where the second or third parts came years later.  One really memorable was a dream I had while in high school or college where I had just come from a car accident in which my in-dream wife "Jenny" had died.  I stood by the fireplace in the house drinking whiskey and just losing it.  Six or seven years later in the middle of a dream, I walk into that same house and see the whiskey glass sitting there with the dried residue from the unfinished drink, covered in dust.  The entire house was closed up, mustly, dusty, as if I hadn't been there in years.  That shocked me so much I threw myself right out of the dream into conciousness and did not want to go back to sleep at all, I was so unnerved.)  (Don't let this

Another is a Myst-like setting, a building high in a forested mountain, containing a small hydroelectric plant.  A small yellow building with green framed windows that a waterfall falls into to power the plant.  The area was just so lush and beautiful and peaceful.  I've been back a few times and sometimes realize I'm on the way the route I'm driving in my car and then the parking lot and the hike into the forest.  I can tell it's not real, but I'm not able to control what happens, which usually isn't much of anything, except to enjoy the calm and peace.  I'm always quite sad when I wake up from that dream.

If there seems to be a theme of death in my dreams, that's not necessarily the case.  I did dream often of falling off cliffs when I was a child, but I'd always survive, just barely missing the ground, or landing on the tires of my bike and riding off.  I think only once I've dreamt that I actually died, and it was three days before 9/11/01 (not posted on my blog until early 2003).  Considering that it seems like every time someone I haven't seen in years suddenly makes an appearance in a dream is usually a 1-3 precursor to me connecting with a different person I hadn't talked to in years (this was in the pre-Facebook era) the fact that the death dream was right before 9/11, any time I have a really big and foreboding dream (like watching from a mall on a hill as a toxic cloud rolls in a wipes out Los Angeles), I'm really freaked the next day.  Fortunately, I haven't had any of those in awhile. 

Well, must get off to work.  Wow, I've been typing intermittently for almost an hour.  Somehow feels like a completly useless use of time.

Recent Dreams

At the end of Back to the Future, there's this scene where the camera is low on the driveway and the Delorean pulls in.  In my Dream, however, it was a black car in the theme of KITT from Knight Rider, only updated to look relevant today.  (And no, I don't mean a Ford Mustang because from the back, those cars do actually look like a mustang - of the horse variety.)  Anyhow, this guy gets out and he looks really uncomfortable.  He's wearing jeans and a black leather jacket and his hair's been styled to look like David Hasselhoff's when he was playing the Michael Knight character (though, really, doesn't his hair always look like this?).

The car looked pretty cool.  It had the requisite heartbeat pulse in front, but some things about it, I would later discover, were just plain odd.  For instance, as if they had run out of time or something, the wheel rim designs, appropriately techy, were printed out on paper, glued to formcore and then taped to the actual rims.  And on the back was a 10x14" advertisement for a doctor's office, again, mounted to formcore and then mounted to the trunk.

The guy came to the door, I let him in, but he wasn't being all that clear as he walked around my house.  It seemed to me that he was intimating that the car was mine, but I wasn't sure if I had won it in some contest, or if he was going to suddenly ask me for a check for a couple thousand for delivery charges, or what. 

Anyhow, the house was really cool.  It was a ranch style, halls with low ceilings, leading into rooms with taller angled ceilings.   I don't remember specifically looking for skylights, but the entire house had lots of ambient light, very open and airy.  I mention this to say that I think I miss California.  It's winter here in Washington and it's a bit dark at the moment, even though now I am actually able to drive to and from work in daylight.

Anyhow, we ended up taking a test drive and then I woke before finding out if the car was really mine or not. 

But I did spend the day thinking about things... like the fact that the only color of car I'll consider buying is black and that when I bought my last car, most cars were boulbous and amorphous with no real style or shape, they were all blob-like bulbs, I felt like the Dodge Intrepid was the only car that still had some style, some lines to it.  (Well, that I could afford.  Ten years later, this still seems to be my price range, even though my tastes have grown up by about $10k.  Turns out I don't get the next new car but instead my wife's hand-me-down, but that's another story.)  Anyhow, was/is the Dodge Intrepid my Knight Rider car?

Thinking about cars made me think of the fantasy I always had in Jr. High and High School.  Sometimes, still on the bus on the way to school, I would daydream of being called away from school to do something important.  Before I was driving age, it would be a beautiful older girl in a convertible that would pull up alongside the bus, or right up onto the sidewalk of the school and call out to me to urgently get in and we'd race off to some crisis, leaving all those other kids behind at the loser school to waste the day.  Often, the girl would be wearing yellow.  (A 'Curious George' thing?)

Anyhow, as I got older, sometimes there would be multiple cars, one for her and one for me, dropped off by car carrier, or lowered to the ground on platforms suspended by chains under military helicopters -- she, sometimes, standing at the edge of one of the platforms holding on to the chain, being lowered with the car. (Daring.)

But cars have always fascinated me and my dreams often focus around them.

One dream that did not was one I had the other night where I was pretty sure I had killed someone.  That one, will have to wait because I need to go get ready for work.

Whine

Rachel had a bad dream. We were so out of it that when she appeared at our door upset, we allowed her to climb into bed with us. Typically, she has a sleeping bag on the floor. It's comfy, but not too comfy, to discourage sleeping in mom and dad's room. I had just gone to bed and had about six hours available to me. She spent the next two hours randomly ruffling my hair, exploring my face with her hands or whispering "I love you." to me. It was sweet and all, but not really working for me. I finally got her sleeping bag and she stayed in it for awhile before going back to her room. Only to later call out until Lori went to see what was up. It would have been legitimate reason to call in sick. Only I had a four hour strategery meeting today at 8 am. I was rushed this morning because I had a meeting at Starbucks at 7:40 this morning on my way in and so didn't read through all 8 new emails that had come in in the last 6 hours and missed the one saying the meeting had been cancelled because everyone was out sick. D'oh.

Anybody Home?

Last night I was dreaming I was in some sort of classroom. The teacher was telling us about a woman, deceased, who was to be put on permanent display in a field. The woman (an actor) and the field were apparently important to some sci-fi movement. The woman had been buried normally in her home country during a time of war. But now that there was peace in her land, she had been dug up and was now on display in this field where geeks would make their pilgrimages to pay their respect. Naturally, all of us in the class thought it was a really bad idea. (Creepy, even.) It would have been another random dream for me except that at one point, I was looking around the room and saw Jamie Anderson sitting on the other side of the room. I didn't have a chance to talk to her, but when I later woke up, I realized it's been a long time since I've posted this.

So... if you're on this list, I'm curious to hear what you're up to, what's new in your life. These are all the people I've lost contact over time. In alphabetical order, except Becki who goes to the top of the list. If you're on this list and want to reconnect, email me at tvjames @ gmail . com

• Becki Brunelli - you found one of my previous posts, left a comment saying to get in touch but left no way for me to get in touch. (P.S. I'm not the only one looking for you. Some traffic last month with people looking for you.)
  
• Jamie Anderson - Pacific Lutheran University, The Mast, now Idaho or something?
• Frank Anino - Warner Bros. Online
• Andrew Alexander - Washington, D.C. - received your card, responded via email as requested, haven't heard back. Hope married life is treating you well!
  
• Patty Armstrong aka Patty Hoem see also Patty and Hayden - last seen during Christmas break 1995
• Paul Bates - Bethel Lutheran Church
• Barbara Beckinghausen - Swormville, Amherst, SUNY Fredonia
• Shannon Carvey - University of Washington, Silverdale Lutheran Church
• Tighe and Susan Carvey - Little Caesar's
• Wendy Ehrlich - tried writing to her a year ago, no response... she may not want to be found, not sure I blame her, I took the layoff hard. But I didn't blame her.
• Eric Funk - former DJ, KPLZ, sorry, I mean STAR 101.5
• Darice Good - thespian
• Holly Grellier - last seen in Sacramento, 1998
  
• Doug Hahn - Portland?
• Pastor Robert Hoem - now a shared pastor at a few small Lutheran churches in NW Washington?
• Paul Edwards aka Todd Ireland - you wrote a few years ago asking if it was ok to get back in touch. Haven't heard from you since.
  
• Kathleen and Susan Jacot - Pacific Lutheran University
• Scott Kim - got laid off on that same fateful day at Warner Bros.
• Glenn Krauss - El Camino
• Dexter Lo - Lake Avenue Church
• Carol Maakestad - formerly of Silverdale Lutheran Church, last seen teaching at a school in North King County during Christmas break 1995 when I was taking the last of my stuff from home back to school with me
• Richard Mar - Olympic High School
• Eric McGraw - last seen probably on graduation day from high school.
• Marshall B. "M.B." Miller IV
• Jamey Peterson - last heard from by mail in late 2000. South Kitsap High School (Jamey - I'm not the only one looking for you... I've been getting some links in recently from someone else trying to find you.)
• Amy Reynolds - now married, that was her maiden name
• Jeff Rowe - UltimateTV, NBC. AOL?
  
• Chris Wilkinson - Silverdale Lutheran Church
• Robin - from SLC... can someone remind me of her last name?

For the search engines... Bremerton, Tracyton, Silverdale, Central Kitsap, South Kitsap. Silverdale Lutheran Church, Bethel Lutheran Church, Olympic High School, Central Kitsap High School, South Kitsap High School. Ultimate TV, UltimateTV, TV Net, UTV, Zap2it.com,
Lake Avenue Church, California, Washington, Pasadena, Monrovia, Sherman Oaks, Encino, World Vision, Warner Bros. Online., Family of God Lutheran Church, Ridgetop, Wawa, Kitsap, Central Valley, Eastwood, Pineridge Dr., Holy Trinity Catholic Church, Pine Ridge, Ridell, Wheaton, Lamb's Office Supply

A Day at Target

So, to set this up, I need to head back to last night. Last night, Bria graced my dreams. Considering how much time we spent together, I'm surprised that she hasn't appeared before in recent memory. I was meeting her husband and we were getting along well. Later in the dream, she and I and three others were working together for my two previous bosses. Someone else and I were returning from a team-building retreat and she and two other colleagues were about to leave for it, so I was telling her what she could expect if their retreat was the same as ours. For being one of my dreams, it was pretty normal and pretty unmemorable, which was weird. But, it often seems that someone specifically appearing in my dream who hasn't been part of my life for a long time often precedes my actually connecting with them in some way by a week or two. I don't know how that works... I'm not suggesting I have ESP or anything (though that dream I had that I died a day or two before 9/11 was pretty freaky) but I'm also convinced that if we only use 10% of our brains that there's a lot of stuff we don't necessarily understand about how the mind works.

Anyhow, that sets up the first part. Now, let's set up the second part. I'm in Target with Rachel. I've been charged with tiring her out so she'll take her nap earlier in the day because we have plans when she would otherwise be napping. In addition to being weary, she still hasn't fully learned the valuable lesson of really being aware of her surroundings. She was a few steps behind me and a guy was coming down the aisle with one of those large carts that holds several kids in the back. Rachel starts saying "Look out! Look out!" The guy, amused, starts weaving, like he's coming after her. I didn't think he meant any harm. She, though, occupied by the cart, is not looking forward at all. And before I can stop her, she walks smack into a stopped cart in the aisle. She's startled, scared and probably a tiny bit hurt and starts shrieking. There were others around who realized that it was completely unintentional.

I had parked my cart around the corner and was already trying to get back to her when she smacked into the cart so pretty quickly she was in my arms crying and calming down.

All the sudden I hear from behind me "Excuse me." I'm thinking 'Oh, great, some woman is about to yell at me for being negligent.' But when I turn around they say "Are you James? James Lamb?" I respond that I am and they give their name, but I can't hear it over Rachel and ask them to repeat it, thinking I had heard "Barbara" and for a moment 'Barbara Beckinghausen?' flashed through my brain. I am so bad with faces, that I was wondering when she did repeat her name, Barbara Kanouse. Not Bria, but another redhead from my past. (Loosely, that is. She was pretty cool, but way out of my league. Can't really remember much of high school, but hers is one of the names that stand out.)

We chatted for a few minutes, I learned that she was married, had three kids, the youngest six, and that she lived in Tacoma, just a mile from where we live and had lived there for three years. I was still shaken up by what had happened to Rachel, combined with my own crappy ability to communicate socially with people that I am still kicking myself for not having done a better job of talking to her. I am still thinking of things I could have asked.

So that's going to be something that's gonna bug me. Here, another opportunity to catch up with an old friend, blown because I'm still just as socially inept as I ever was.

Desperately Seeking Susan

Actually, I'm not, she's (formerly known as Susan Cabrillo) in San Francisco, happily married, running her own headhunter business for the medical industry and apparently very successful.

But so many others I've wondered about, I don't know where they are.

I dreamt about Holly again last night. We were sitting in a classroom openly talking about what we thought was the field arrangement of some sport. There was a computer nearby that I could have leaned over and typed in the sport's name and found out exactly what the position was, but we were already openly talking and I thought that would have pushed us over the limit with the teacher who was currently ignoring our disrespect. Now, having awoken, I'm convinced the sport doesn't exist, that it was just made up in my head.

Holly shows up in a dream of mine every six to twelve months. Never sexual, never physical, never romantic. We just hang out and talk, or sometimes we just briefly pass in the dream and she gets maybe only a few seconds screen time.

She wasn't the one that got away, in fact I can't even remember if we actually ever went on a date. But, for me, she's come to symbolize nostalgia. Every time she pops up, I go to Google and start looking for all kinds of people from years' past. Last time I did that, I learned of Josey Peterson's death, so I really don't feel like searching for people. Plus, by now I've realized that a lot of these people live their lives off the grid, out of the spotlight because they're not involved in activities that end up publicized on the web, or aren't using the internet as a vanity pool for self-promotion.

So, this time around, I'm just going to list people I'd like to hear from. Maybe they'll search for their own name and come across this list. I intend to repost it frequently so that it's always fresh on this blog. In some cases, I could find these people by calling their parents back home, or by calling my parents, but (a) what's the fun in that, (b) I'm too lazy, (c) that's too weird and (d) maybe they don't want to hear from me.. that's fine. Plus, I could also check my colleges' alumni website, but that's not entirely acurate... for instance, according to them, I am a Dr. and an Esq. and I hold a PhD in Microrobotics from MIT.

I have but a few brief moments today, so the list will have people missing and very little info about why I'm hoping to make contact with them.

And here's some search words for Google, to get us started... Washington, Bremerton and Port Orchard and Silverdale. Tracyton Elementary School and then Fairview Jr. High School and then Olympic High School and finally Pacific Lutheran University. Oh, and Little Caesar's Pizza! Pizza! I guess I'd be remiss if I didn't also mention South Kitsap High School, Central Kitsap High School, Bethel Lutheran Church and Warner Bros. Online. And for search purposes, James Lamb. Oh, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Ultimate TV, UltimateTV, TV Net, UTV and the WB Network.

In no particular order...

1. Eric McGraw - last seen probably on graduation day from high school.
2. Glenn Krauss - El Camino
3. Holly Grellier - San Francisco
4. Jamey Peterson
5. Wendy Ehrlich
6. Becki Brunelli
7. Shannon Carvey
8. Tighe and Susan Carvey
9. Marshall B. "M.B." Miller IV
10. Robin something who liked cows
11. Chris Wilkinson
12. Doug Hahn
13. Andrew Alexander - Washington, D.C.
14. Adam Bargmeyer - Microsoft or Boeing ?
15. Darice Good - thespian ?
16. Paul Bates
17. Deryk Stilwell
18. Andrew Eichner
19. Patty Armstrong / Patty Hoem / Patty and Hayden
20. Richard Mar
21. Jamie Anderson
22. Kathleen or Susan Jacot
23. Joe Pennington ha ha just kidding. you suck, dude.
24. Scott Kim
25. Brian Fischer. Duh. Sorry, you should be right up there at the top with Glenn and Eric.
26. Eric Funk
27. Carol Maakestad - another duh, you should be at the top of the list
28. Pastor Robert Hoem

This is an incomplete list.

It's the end of the world...

Last night I dreamt I was in a room with some friends. Not sure where the room was or what we were doing... I guess we were just hanging out. People started to be ushered into the room which was kind of weird. Weirder still, people were murmurering and talking softly. I also noticed that no one was leaving the room.

We eventually found out that something major had happened, some kind of catastrophe but people weren't sure if it was a terrorist attack or some kind of accident. Some were saying that New York had been blown up. Or maybe Chicago. I picked up a phone in the room and tried to call my wife, but the recording said there were no available circuits for the state of California. We started to hear more about what was going on and basically martial law was being imposed. I toyed with the idea of sneaking out and seeing if I could find my wife but eventually determined that I would probably get in too much trouble. So I tried using my cell phone, and got through for just a second before it disconnected. But, she was safe.

From the room, we could see the ocean. There were dark angry clouds in the sky. Pure white clouds or steam stretched from the ocean to the clouds. But, there was one opening. In that opening, the wind kept whipping up and swirling trying to form a tornado. It would, but kept loosing steam almost immediately. There were lots of silver birds flying around the area and you could see just the purest blue through the opening. Someone said that it was the kind of color you could see after a nuclear blast. But, we were facing the Pacific so I didn't know what that meant, or even what I was looking at.

Then I woke up.

More of the same

My friend, who works at a Kinko's, refused to help someone yesterday trying to photocopy information from an almanac on the U.S. Virgin Isles. He said he didn't think it was a big deal but that I could mention it on here if I wanted to, since everyone seems to think the government is reading my website.

(It is Kinkos' policy to prohibit photocopying of copyrighted materials... I knew that yesterday when I used Kinkos as an example just because no one would know that BJ's is a stupidly named copy-shop in Glendale. A block away from Kinkos, in fact.)

Doesn't the rest of the world hate us? Then shouldn't we be saying that we're the only ones allowed to carry guns on flights? Here's an idea... why don't we just hand each passenger a gun instead of a pack of peanuts?

I had a dream the other night that arsonists stole the door off my car. They tied a rope to it and dragged it around a park terrorizing people having picnics. Then they lit some forests on fire and the firemen came, put out the fires, and killed the arsonists. Someone gave me a videotape of my door being dragged around unceremoniously but fortunately I woke up before I had a chance to call the insurance company. (If I had stayed asleep, that would have been unpleasant.)

ORANGE, BABY

We're now at terror level orange.

It's been at least two months since I had my last dream involving terrorists. Having been the most realistic one yet, in terms of how it was carried out, I went to the DHS website and wrote in, asking if there was a way for ordinary citizens to submit possible scenarios. I have heard nothing back. Nothing. I guess they're not interested in our safety.

So here's my scenario. A terrorist gets a job working at a airport. If possible, with a fire-fighting crew. Then, when there's no one around, they fuel up a fire-fighting "supertanker" helicopter. But they don't just fill the gas tank, they also fill the part where the water's supposed to go. Then they lift off, heading for some large outdoor gathering, like a stadium and dump the load of fuel on the crowd below. (No one would dare shoot them down over restricted airspace if they were full of fuel.) Then a terrorist on the ground (or a bunch of them, to really add to the confusion and pandemonium) lights themselves on fire and runs into the middle of the crowd. Can you imagine the impact that would have? TV crews panning over a section of a stadium with a bunch of charred bodies, in seats, crowded into stairways and probably even on the field itself?

One of these days I'll try to post what I remeber of the dream I had recently where Glendale, California was bombed with conventional and chemical weapons and then Monrovia was hit with an electro-magnetic pulse.

But tonight I have a different topic. I'm having a small crisis. In college my two best friends were Kevin and Allison. Allison and I saw eye-to-eye on a lot of things, especially politics. Kevin was my roommate for three years. Our politics were always opposite, but that was fine because we had a lot of other things in common.

I sent them the note I posted below. I thought it was funny. But you would not believe the responses I got back from the two of them. I really didn't read too much of either, just enough to get the point that I had really ticked both of them on.

And it's really disappointing because I like both of them. They are both really good writers and I have often looked up to them, if not envied their writing ability. But with Kevin in Kazakhstan and Allison in Seattle, the only way I have to communicate with them is by email. And things to talk about has severely shrunk over time. What's left?

Let's get down to brass tacks. Whenever I hear sirens, I immediately panic. I remember sitting on the couch the morning of my second anniversary watching people leap to their deaths before the trade center towers fell. On my last birthday I stood in our room at the Aladdin watching the space shuttle disintegrate. I'm not saying this is about me, but I want it to go back to the way it was. I want the scrolling tickers to go away from the TV news. I want CNN and ABC News panicking so much they're considering merging. I want to be able to sleep through police and fire sirens.

But that world is gone, gone for good. And when Lori and I are thinking about what bringing a child into this world might mean, I desperately want the old, safe world back. But it's gone, gone for good. We are older, wiser, and scared. It's only a matter of time before suicide bombers strike here.

(This is not announcement of our being pregnant or anything, it's just something we've been thinking about.)

Kevin and Allison are well intentioned people. Decent, honest, hardworking people. But I don't think they think about things like that. When Saddam Hussein is building many, many $90 million dollar bunkers under the streets of Baghdad while the Iraqis starve, that's not right. When he's offering money to the families of suicide bombers who kill people, that's not right. With much deliveration and prayer, the leadership of this country went to Iraq to liberate the people from this mad man and I just really don't see how you can make a logical, informed decision that opposes what we're doing.

I can appreciate the idea that war is wrong. I agree, I don't quite understand how war makes any sort of sense, but I think that we had to do what we're doing.

This is that dream. I wrote it down, but looking back, I hadn't yet started a blog, apparently. But here it is.

Diversion - Bad Day

I rounded the last step and stood at the front of my car looking fumbling around in my pockets for the car keys. I couldn't believe my division had been downsized, we were all laid off. It had started out as a good day, I came in early, found a parking space right by the stairs on a lower floor than usual. Less walking down to the second-floor to cross over in the bridge to office building. One of these days I was going to get a promotion and be able to park all the way down on the second floor in a reserved parking space. The lay-off was temporary. I'd find work quickly. Either back here in another division or at one of their competitors who'd been calling me for months, offering me more money. I'd always said no, choosing to be loyal to the company who had stood by me all these many years. I would come back later and pack, but right now I needed to get away. I had just pulled my keys out of my pocket when I heard a pop and felt myself being turned around. My keys went dinging and clinking across the floor and out of my field of vision. Suddenly I was facing away from my car and almost immediately my legs gave way.

I was confused. What was happening and why was I suddenly sitting, legs straight out, leaning against the front bumper of my car? What was the dull thudding in my head and why was everything hazy and hurting? I looked at my hand. It was coated with something sticky. Red. Blood? From where? Then I realized it was on my shirt as well. Why was I bleeding? I didn't understand. I tried to force myself to get up, but it just wasn't working. I looked at my arm and tried to raise it, but it wouldn't move. Why won't my arm move, I thought, starting to panic. What was happening? I felt movement and suddenly my upper torso was laying sideways. My car had moved. Why? I willed my body to get up, but still it would not move. The dull thudding was so heavy and hurt my head so bad. Somehow, suddenly I was standing. Only my body still lay on the floor. Two teenagers with hats turned backwards were sitting in my car, laughing. I guessed they couldn't see me.

The engine started and the car backed up. From here it was pretty obvious that I had been shot. Had they shot me? Or had they just discovered the car keys and used the remote to figure out which car they belonged to? I wasn't sure I'd ever know. The car continued to slowly back up, and then suddenly lurched to a stop. Then, wheels spinning, it launched forward racing down the ramp, towards the exit. I felt so cold. My keycard was still in the car. They'd be able to get out of the parking garage. I'm not even sure if they saw my body, laying at the foot of the car, now mostly obscured by the concrete barrier designed to keep cars from driving into walls while parking.

Another car started park in the space, but then stopped, halfway into the space. Someone got out. I recognized him, he worked in finance. He walked towards my body and when he saw the profile of my face, cursed. From the rear left passenger window a head peered out and inquired as to the hold-up. "It's that guy from Marketing. I think he's shot." In a flash, the other two got out of the car. The other guy took a quick look, cursed and ran off shouting that he was getting security and that someone should call 911. The woman took a quick glance and turned around, repulsed. I shouted at them to help me, but they didn't. The man pulled out his cell phone and called 911.

Others from my department came up the stairs carrying boxes. Suddenly, there were six or seven people there peering down at me with a mixture of curiosity, sadness and fear. The woman from accounting was at the back of the car, head in her arms shaking, sick. They began discussing the lay-offs, wondering if I had killed myself. I screamed at them to help me but they didn't seem to be able to hear me. Someone asked where my car was and someone else said that I usually parked a few floors up. "I parked right here! Someone stole my car! They probably shot me! Go find them!" I shouted to only the wind. So I tried to grab one of the guy's wrists, but it was like grabbing in to solid steel. I couldn't move it. I had been expecting my hand to go right through his body, but I couldn't do anything. I had no ability to physically affect anything.

A cell phone began ringing and everyone became really quiet as they realized it was mine, laying between my knees, face up. Someone reached for it and someone shouted "Don't touch it!" and they pulled back quickly. Another woman peered down at the phone and began to cry. "It's his wife," she said reading the caller id screen. After four rings, the phone was quiet, having shuffled the call off to the voicemail where my wife would hear my voice, not knowing that she'd never really hear my voice again.

Or would she? Why was I still here? Was I dead? Was this what it was like to be a ghost? Even now, I didn't believe in ghosts. I figured my body must not yet be completely dead or I'd be on my way up to see St. Peter. I tried punching one of the guys in the arm but my blow just glanced off. I felt no pain, but he apparently felt nothing either. "It's not fair!" I began shouting. "It's not fair! It's not fair! It's not fair!" They began to resume their debate over whether or not it was a suicide, and if so, where the gun might be. Someone suggested checking under the nearby cars, but someone else said that nothing should be done until the police arrived.

I sat down in my body again, trying to make it move. Anything. An eyelid, a finger, the corner of my mouth, anything. Nothing. I shouted "It's not fair! I didn't kill myself! Tell my wife I didn't kill myself! I'm still here! Help me! It's not fair!" The discouragement and despair welled up inside me. I went to church regularly, I had a close relationship with God, one I had come to the conclusion was going to be a life-long struggle to be a more caring, sensitive and Christ-like person. I knew I couldn't be perfect, but I knew some of my actions and ways of life needed changing. But I was working on it. So what was I doing here? I knew bad things happened to good people, but why me? "It's not fair!" I shouted again. The jinging of keys signified the arrival of security and concensus was starting to lean towards the idea that I had committed suicide. I climbed up on top of a car and jumped on the roof shouting "I'm not dead!". The roof didn't yield at all to my jumping and no one turned towards me. The dull thudding was getting louder and things were getting even more hazy. I was crying. I could hear the sound of sirens in the distance, but all I wanted to do was sleep.

"It's not fair," I whimpered, laying down on my side next to my body, hands under my head. The concrete was cold and hard but I just wanted to sleep. Maybe I'd soon get to see my two Grandfathers in Heaven. I just hoped my wife would know that I'd never kill myself. Ever. It was so cold. I was so tired. And then I closed my eyes.

I was standing in the upper floor of my house looking out. It was dark. People were running back in forth in the street below screaming hysterically. Every so often a searchlight would aim skyward and within seconds beams of light from all over the city would streak up in the same general direction. Shortly thereafter an alien saucer would come crashing to the ground, flattening homes and buildings. One crashed down on the home across the street. Suddenly, a two short aliens emerged from the ship. One immediately ran for the shadows. The second wasn't so lucky and was quickly squashed by a very tall human. What struck me the most was the loud thumps that the ships made when they came crashing to the ground.

I woke up just totally terrified. The winds were hard outside the apartment and every few minutes there would be a really loud WHAM! as the wind sucked the window tight against the window frame. That explained the noise. The night before we had been walking in Pasadena and we passed Rusnak Volvo and I started shouting "RusNAK NAK NAK" like the aliens in Mars Attacks. And then later in the evening stupid Corey on American Idol had all his dreadlocks up inside a hat that made him look like an alien from Mars Attacks. All those things combined to give me the really bizarre dream.

The the dread I felt when I awoke was different. The last time I felt that kind of dread was when I woke from a dream right before 9/11.

But it didn't end there. No sooner had I fallen back asleep than I was at my mom's house. In the distance a very large building was being constructed. They were building a center column and at the same time building out. So there was about 10 stories of building and then about 10 more stories of this center column that was a rigid part of the center structure. They had hooked a cable to the top and were using the center structure sort of like a crane, to lift things up. Only the load was too heavy or unbalanced and it began to bend and it was obvious it was about to topple. Guys were leaping off the building. Most had ropes they were quickly rapelling down, but it was obvious people were dying. The structure did topple and it hit the ground so hard and five other buildings collapsed. Boom boom boom boom boom. One after another. Not really like dominoes, but more like the impact of one caused the one next to it to fall. And all of them were 10-20 story buildings themselves, full of people working. The fact that there were five buildings seemed important.

But then perhaps it was just my really feeling bad earlier made me think of 9/11 and maybe that caused this dream.

But if something happens in the next few days, terrorists or bombs or plane crashes or something, I'm going to be really scared. I've predicted things before, but I've always considered it a fluke. I don't believe that there is a such thing as ESP or the ability to actually see the future.