Tag: store

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Dream Journal

Tennessee Toys-r-Us

Travelled to visit a big warehouse-like Toys-r-Us in Tennessee. Shopping for a present for Patrick/Alia. At the end of one aisle is a dollhouse-like playset of the Millennium Falcon, $422 — way more than I could spend, but cool that it exists. One shelf has a display demonstration of DIY plant life in test tube, as home decor.

I skate through aisles using the metal tip of an umbrella on the floor, it’s memorably loud.

I babysit a baby named Arnoit (has a French pronunciation), who may be the child of a drug addict mom. I can’t really tell if he’s human, or can see. But the toxicology report does show a bunch of stuff including Dr pepper in the cerebrospinal fluid (!).

Uncertain if this was Arnoit, but I have a history conversation with a kid born 18 years after September 11 2001. We compare my brother Chris who was actually born 10 years before, who still seems old to this kid.

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Dream Journal

Neither Brookstone, Nor Sharper Image, but P…

Diving into sparkling blue-white pool naked, after taking clothes off at water’s edge. As recommended by Pan Priest last night. Gathering of high-status leisure, Eileen is there, Koe, others too, attended by gynoid pool-parlor assistants.

Dr. Mrs. The Monarch has an electronically-assisted power to talk secretly in front of outsiders. It’s disguised, warped, imperceptible to normal hearing. She’s doing this on one occasion in a tile-walled library waiting room, located in my teenage bedroom, but when she starts talking about sex the filter starts to break. A maternal woman in the same room suddenly perceives her as a disfigured bird-faced large toddler.

There’s a high-end electronic store whose name I didn’t know. It was similar to Brookstone or Sharper Image, and it started with a ‘P’, but the owner there kept misleading me that it was different stores… that I knew it wasn’t. One, for instance, was affiliated with a Chinese family, incorporated the name ‘Chinatown’ and owned several different places in SF but not this one. I pick up an employment application from the floorboards, but I just can’t figure out the name. Most of the dream, I’m bugging myself trying to remember it.

In an aisle of rifles, there’s a loaded crossbow which predictably goes off the moment I touch it. I practically roll my eyes. Upon drawback, a thin silvery arrow-bolt shaft levers upwards 45 degrees for ease of loading.

In a distant more-forgotten section packed with older merchandise, on a lone mid-level shelf above the aisles, Lynae finds a curious vacuum (or… vacuum-like trinket). It’s package is the size of a coffee cup box, ancient-looking for electronics, from the 1980s at least. Some kind of toilet pun. Christmas-themed, too, with faded rainbow shoehorned in there. I don’t recall us opening it, but it was an amusing curiosity.

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Dream Journal

Alien Shrimp, Sunset Airplane, Balearic Groceries

Accidentally bought a pair of shrimp and fish four times on Bitcoin. I click on the shrimp (a hulking asymmetrical alien beast) and tell it to investigate a hole, something to do with its father, and it falls right in. The seller is totally unsympathetic. Little tufts of grass in it’s aquarium (attached by styrofoam). Looks like a tiny mangrove forest.

Looking out the window while into an airport at sunset, the pink light reflecting off hundreds of industrial buildings. Some kind of job interview, perhaps in a foreign land.

Shopping in a grocery store with Lynae, a store so large that I want to leave my cart and go find things and then come back. It has a Balearic foods section. I don’t even know what Balearic food would be!

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Dream Journal

Osmosis versus… what was the other one’s name?

I find my former roommate Emily’s dating profile. Her first pic is from our apartment hall, which tells me that she’s still nostalgic for our time together but also doesn’t share what she looks like now.

In a store’s lost and found, I discover about 30 mini discs in a CD case which I, realizing their rarity, covertly steal in my hoodie. As it happens the attendant saw me and wryly confronts me, but after I tell him what they are and what I’m going to do with them — transfer them to archival digital — he gives a mysterious little nod of passing. Despite what I’d usually do I go right to work on them but there’s something amiss and none of them read correctly.

Sitting in a middle row of a classroom, Robby in the row ahead of me, Michael (Mickey before he was Mickey) in the row behind. Unusual as it’s the second night in a row I’ve dreamt of both of them.

I creep quietly toward the door of Aislinn’s North Beach apartment where there’s a bright glowing fishtank in window, but the rest of her lights are off so I leave without knocking.

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Dream Journal

Dream of a Store called Beached

Hanging out for what seemed like hours in this rich/upscale home. It was mine, or a relative’s, or someone who liked me very much. I was at a long, luxurious dinner party, in a charming and tastefully lit loft, with a rack of fur coats on hangers. This dream must have been earlier in the night, as it set the scene for another dream.

Friends of mine — or perhaps I, myself — opened up a new storefront called “Beached”. It was in a hipstery neighborhood blending part of London, San Francisco’s Mission, LA, and Berlin’s Kreuzberg. The store was angled from the storefront, and was structured around a large communal swimming pool, with a bar, changing areas off to the side, and an upper level with a jacuzzi lounge and clothing boutique. Reecy was there as part of an opening day crew. The store proved very trendy, and was a commercial success.

Later during this day’s events I would end up going to LiquidRom, but did not manage to fully write down the dream beforehand.