Tag: driving

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Dream Journal

A Game of Ghost Story

Store/cafe near Disneyland, heavily themed with natural wood for an ol-time-country feel. Space is sunk below street level a bit, bright windows in the back. The whole neighborhood is a shopping district, curved downward becoming more Disneyland the further you go. Near the cafe counter, I see a few people in costumes with masks that look like Will Smith crossed with the “I, Robot” robots, featuring a glowing 20% discount over the mouth area. It’s suggestive of some kind of Black Panther protest.

I’m a successful smuggler and I’m getting out of the business. I know my compatriots will be upset, even panicked at my departure, so I leave a letter hidden under sawdust at my regular drop. It’s a semi-abandonded lot protected from the street by overgrown trees, the same hillside view as the Disneyland cafe earlier.

I drive off in a convertible with Lynae. We’re briefly diverted onto the other side of a divided highway, the broad expanse of a mountainous pastel evening desert before us. I suggest we play a game called Ghost Story — Lynae side-eyes me, knowing I know the edge of night isn’t exactly when she wants to hear ghost stories. I clarify that the objective of the game is to start saying something that seems scary, but that has its scariness vanish (like a ghost) once the sentence is complete. I’ve just played the first round, now it’s her turn.

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Dream Journal

Unwieldy Car, Stealing from Church

In the big backseat of car, one practically too big to drive. A big sunroof, which is actually the rear window. From a driveway out, going up a slope onto a ramp, the engine isn’t quite powerful enough. It even takes a long time to brake.

Onward. Stealing from a church gift shop, inside the church itself — an elaborate English Gothic style cathedral. I look out the back window with my wife as we leave, not feeling too bad about it honestly.

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Dream Journal

Almanac A-Frame Apartments

At a big resort near a body of water. Kids have their own river ferry/train that brings them to an enclosed playground with a long, sloping beach facing a canal and tall hotels. I ride across (cause trains are fun) and play lightsabers with some random kids near an artificial sand-bottomed pool. The fences are fat and colorful. Kids find their way into beige hotel rooms accessible from small doors near the poolside.

The interior of one of these transitions into a building built for older, rich Orange County types. Unusually pleasing architecture — like stacked A-frame houses, nestled together in the form of a steep little hill. There’s a series of these in an otherwise undeveloped Coachella Valley, called Almanac developments. They have the ugliness of being new, their small plants and just-bulldozed roads, but unlike most new developments they actually foster community. My viewpoint bounces from one to another, oldest to newest, until landing on the very peak of a hill which will be the developed next.

Flirting with a younger girl — we leave at the same time from a parking garage.

While sitting in the truck, a lady excitedly approaches our passenger side and tries to hand over a note. Wishing to expediently end the situation, I roll down my wife’s window (to her annoyance). It’s some generic inspirational gobbledygook which, as I expected, gets her to leave us alone after she’s told us “the good news”. I indicate to my wife that I think the lady’s just manic or something. My wife endearingly scribbles some creative additions to the ends of the lines of words, making the platitudes much more perverse and hilarious.

In the courtyard of a winding apartment complex, in a brick-walled barbecue pit area, I watch cousin Betty pick up hot coals with her bare hands. This isn’t far from somewhere on the coast called Mordor Bay.

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Dream Journal

Pieces of a November Night’s Dreams

Long catchup conversation with Christy T, my elementary school crush, who’s now a mom.

Riding a long sloping escalator down into a comforting mall, happen to be behind an attractive young-ish girl with all-green clothes, covered in iron-on patches.

Driving down zig-zagging switchbacks to Baker Beach in a golf cart, then ascending again in an elevator.

Magical dollhouse with with tiny little magic stone slab. Take a drop of poison, drop it on the magic book, it absorbs and reveals… something. The rats swim around it.

Ned Flanders’s beatnik parents chant “om-om-om-om”.

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Dream Journal

We Go To France

Was headed to France with Lynae and trying to make our flight. Packed too much stuff, including motorcycle helmets. Found space in a lot for the truck and entered the terminal, only to find that we’d missed some narrow window and the flight was delayed… perhaps by a matter of days! To compound that, the space between the terminals was huge (which I complained was designed poorly on purpose to prevent walking across). We drove the car to another terminal where we could wait and still catch our flight, only to find there wasn’t long-term parking, just a vast grassy field.

At some point we had trouble getting into the airport itself and went down a side entrance — unfortunately, it was in fact a side exit — for Disneyland. Yeah, I know. But I’d been in that area before and recognized the log ride, the wood-post fence, and the terraced tropical villa on a further hilltop.

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Dream Journal

Big Beautiful Berlin in the Sky

Driving in a car with Meredith Scheff. Swiftly and unexpectedly, a very large, very artful and futuristic airliner streaks across the overcast sky from bottom left to top right. It’s a great green and white monstrosity of ostentation, made to look like several Berlin row houses, streamlined uncannily, an old oceanliner-style smokestack near the rear, a quiet yet furiously powerful engine glowing smoothly among curvaceously flow-y tailfins. Such a sight! Meredith wasn’t looking up and I excitedly chanted her name, but I can’t say if she actually saw the damn thing.

Other dreams from the night explored a forgotten side of Berlin’s history, when the north and south sides split along religious lines with one area being called Lodz — like the Polish city or the character in Carnivale.

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Dream Journal

Rodent Discovery, Sex from Above, Forest to Desert

Hairless hamster-like rodent nugget found in a closet, I share it with people and it’s a weird familiar. It has a jaw filled with hippopotamus teeth except for the incisors. Makes it look like an ape. The sharp ones are called “orins”.

I climb three freestanding brown columns by shuffling up them. It’s hard to balance but I grab different ones to stabilize. I don’t get quite to the top but a few people are watching me, one of whom is an Asian woman. I leap down from the column and flip her over and begin fisting her. This could have been a dream character I met elsewhere, Hiu.

Traveling a road through the mountains, perhaps the Sierras. There’s a lot of woody vegetation but it’s interspersed with signs of an approaching desert, saguaros and other cacti. Pausing on the side of the road, I pat a guy on the back who’s wearing a black t-shirt with cactus spines on it.