places i've known now gone

i dream most vividly about places i've known that are now gone. the house i (mostly) grew up in is the cocoon of my nostalgia, but it doesn't exist anymore and i don't know how accurate my shadowy memories are. sometimes i can so clearly recall the sunlight, green through leaves, scattered on the living room floor; and the little eat-in table with the bench in the kitchen where we had dinner, and where i always sat in the same spot; and the way the backyard stepped up into a fantasy world with a little shack that became a palace and a mysterious grove of redwoods where all sorts of druidic rituals took place. but i am not sure, when i wake up. the house is gone now, burned in a fire that took out most of the neighborhood.

the other locus of my dreamlife is my grandparents' apartment in Tokyo, in a distric called Takadanobaba, close to the bustle of Shinjuku but removed enough to feel suburban...or as suburban as anyplace inside Tokyo can be. the apartment was a tiny two-room apartment, filled with the scent of sacred incense and books and my grandmother's perfumerie. but mostly i dream of the immense back garden, which in the summer gave off a jungly heat and buzzed with mosquitos and a green, febrile scent. this apartment complex and all other built near it are gone, demolished by a construction boom and new development. i haven't been able to find my way back, the neighborhood has changed so much.

but i'm not lamenting, merely reflecting. change...even had the building remained, they'd be empty husks anyway. only in my mind are they forever the homes i knew, filled with adventure, and love.

like a whale far from shore

the other night i dreamt that a man loved a woman who had been turned into a whale. he invited her out on a special date to the movies, and he bought every seat in the theatre so she would have room to sit.

do whales sit?

perhaps not. nevertheless, it was a sweet gesture.

my grandfather's mistress

i had a dream last night that we discovered my grandfather had had a mistress, whom we had no known about. after his death she came to visit us, bringing with her her two young children. she was not much older than me.

we took her in to live in the house with us - a rambling country estate in southeast asia, i think, i don't know where exactly. it was built of stone and wood, and had a rustic, cavernous feel to it.

this woman - this newcomer into our family - was very defensive. she didn't speak english or japanese very well, but i could tell that she was tense about the extent of her welcome in the family, especially in regard to her children. i liked the children - two little girls - very much, and played with them often. their mother would watch us with a sharp eye, while sitting quietly by the side.

she made up for her insecurity - or dealt with the strange family dynamic -by acting as a servant of sorts, cleaning the house and cooking without being asked to. it was all very awkward.

one afternoon i went to take a bath. the bathroom was a beautiful room with cool stone tiles on the floor, stone walls, and a small window. just one big tub in the corner, and it felt like a cave - nice and cool in the hot afternoon. there was no door to the bathroom, really, but i had no shame about taking off my clothes, folding them up by the side, and starting to run the water.

at that point the woman came by, startling me. she had a stack of towels which she wanted to give me. i was standing, naked, by tub, and slightly embarrassed. she had no qualms about coming in and arranging the towels. she said something in a language i didn't understand. i began to be nervous that she was going to stay and scrub my back for me or something, and didn't know how to tell her it was okay, i preferred to be alone.

but at that moment the children ran by, and she went after them.

and i was left with the nice clean towels she'd brought for me.

the village 2

after watching the village, which i thought was patently manipulative, even deceitful, i dreamt that the real menace in the village were the villagers themselves, stalking and murdering one another in the name of keeping the peace.

i find the evil inside real people a lot scarier, most of the time, than ghosts or bogeymen.

put more couch on the fire

i was so cold last night i dream about the fruitless search for warmth. i built a fake fireplace and burned a couch in it.

also, i dreamt i had a brilliant idea for a novel, but in the pale cold morning light it melted away.

damn this cold. it saps not only my physical but also my creative energies.

bloody critic

strange dreams last night. a film critic dictating a review to me suddenly becomes overcome with fear as bloodstains appear on his shirt. i try to find the source of the blood as he panics helplessly.

jess and i are in a little cafe, run by some punky kids. it's dirty and resembles a japanese noodle house. steamy, salty air. for some reason i become frothingly angry with jesse and storm out of the place. i don't know why.

cold, dark, impersonal hotel, very modern and sleek. i'm taking the back stairs. lonely, somewhat sinister mood. i dream of such hotels often.

yesterday morning as i was waking up i had an extended fantasy-dream, in the time of half-wakefulness right before you actually wake up. i pretended i was a tarot-card therapist to the stars. celebrities consulted me about their lives, and i used hand-painted custom tarot cards to begin the therapy session.

actually sounds kind of like a fun job.

bathed in sadness

i had a dream last night about my mom. i can't remember exactly what happened, but we were staying in a small house in rural japan and one evening we were taking a bath together. she was soaking in the tub while i washed my hair. she said something, i turned to her, and suddenly i so felt the weight of her unfulfilled hopes and dreams that i started to cry. i woke up instantly and my throat felt raw, as if i'd been screaming and sobbing.

but perhaps i'm just getting sick.

don't drive in the flood

last night i dreamt that i was getting ready to go to high school on a cold rainy winter day. i put on my clothes and my sweater and realized i was still cold. big furry boots and a scarf - still cold. i borrowed my sister's huge parka, which looked so fluffy and warm, but when i put it on, it felt thin and insubstantial and i was still cold.

as i was getting dressed, i listened to the radio. an advisory came on, telling me that it was unsafe to drive, and if i needed to get somewhere this morning, i should call the police and they'd send a big truck escort. i thought i would be okay driving myself, but i called just in case. "okay, hang tight; we'll come pick you up," they said. and i sat down to wait.

and then i woke up. and i was cold.

the weather's turned so suddenly. seems like only a few days ago that it was almost too hot to sleep under the covers. and now i can't get warm enough, it seems.

the mystery of x

i dreamt i was filming a video in the streets of the Lower East Side. the girls were on skateboards. it was in black and white, with a dreamy, underwater shimmeriness that was at once pleasant and melancholy. in some scenes i was the second girl; in others, another girl replaced me. somehow i believed no one would be able to tell the difference.

i woke up with some embarrassment and a slight feeling of inadequacy. someone's ghost is haunting my sleep.

tidal waves

i often dream about water. last night i had a very vivid dream about a tidal wave. we were in a giant airplane hangar which had been turned into a film set, and we were trying to recreate a tidal wave in a huge pool. it was going well but it was very dangerous. it felt realistic, with natural-looking rocks and salty sea spray. i was standing off to the side trying to shoot. chris groves was on the other side - i could barely see him - trying to manipulate the wave. there were lots of other people running around.

at one point the wave came very close to me and got my clothes wet. i slipped on a rock. i thought i would be pulled under but i managed to stay clear.

there were several other details, but i've forgotten them.

nightmare

i had a nightmare last night. i woke up sweating and shivering. i wanted to wake him up so he could hold me but he was sleeping so soundly i didn't.

and now i don't even remember what it was - it's melted away, but the vague anxieties remain.

one more thing
it's damned insulting for you to tell me that this is my fault, that i could just WILL myself out of this. it doesn't work that way. i'm trying to help myself, exploring therapy, taking exercise, trying to find projects to keep my mind active and occupied, trying to go out to see friends, trying to talk to friends and family. but please don't tell me to snap out of it. if i could, i would have. i've tried. i've tried for so many years to just snap out of it.

i think it's a sign of my progress that this time, i'm not relying on myself but asking for help instead.

i'm going to turn off comments for a while. for my friends who've been understanding, thank you! you know i care for you. and for the complete strangers who've been understanding, i appreciate you too. your concern, however anonymous, has touched me and helped me.

but the rest of you can just be quiet for a while, okay? i don't need you to make me feel worse about myself.

sage

i dreamt i was in the city with audra. but it wasn't the real San Francisco, it was a mythical one that I have dreamt of before, with soaring highways that float far above the buildings and a huge park in the middle of the city housing a famous university. anyway we were there and having dinner. she was wearing black velvet and striped stockings. after dinner i offered to drive her home but she said she wanted to take me somewhere.

we went into a small brownstone house which had been repurposed as a book store. audra knew the owner and proprietor, an ageing man with a fringe of snowy white hair around his shiny bald head and little round scholarly glasses.

he had books piled all around him, even inside the fireplace. audra and i sat down and started browsing through his collection while he talked. the name of the store was Sage - "that's me," he explained with a grin.

other people came in, girls dressed in vintage frocks with short fashionably messy hair and dark stockings. two of them didn't like each other: one said to me petulantly, "why is *she* here?" i tried to be noncommittal, keep the peace. i suggested we have a party.

and then we had some ice cream. i wake up.

bed opera

i dreamt i was at the opera. there was a tiny orchestra - about seven people - who were also characters in the opera. (one of them was Jennifer Saunders wearing a false moustache.) the action took place on a giant bed, which was the stage. at one point the audience was asked to come up and stand on the bed. i stood there on the covers with my back to the wall. the opera was a farce about love and sex. i thought i would fall off the bed.

also, later, there was a giant ornate 16th-century telescope with jelly instead of glass for the lens. so unless you held the eyepiece perfectly still the image would shake and blur and you couldn't see anything.

sexy clothes

i dreamt i was hanging out with John Galliano last night. like McQueen, Galliano's a former gutter rat turned glittering rock star. i used to think he was far too costume-y for my taste but i do love the stuff he does for Dior - so aggressively sexy. he pulled a Tom Ford on Dior, too, transforming it from a stodgy couture house into a hip hot bordering-on-trashy brand.

anyway i woke up thinking about clothes, specifically tight, clingy, sexy dresses with fitted waists and flared skirts cut on the bias, low-cut corset-like bodices and feminine details in the trim - it's weird, i've never wanted clothing like this before. i think part of it is definitely having a boy around who likes and appreciates clothes. we talk about clothing and fashion a lot. and he's really great to go shopping with. well, it's a double-edged sword actually, as he tells me i look fantastic in just about everything i try on. he's not exactly an unbiased observer. his enthusiasm makes it harder to resist spending money on nice things.

i REALLY have to learn to sew.

dinner party

i dreamt i was at a dinner party at a very nice apartment in san francisco. jesse's friend tom was hosting it. he had made all this wonderful food, which included oysters baked in butter and garlic as well as some sort of tomato soup which smelled delicious. we were just about ready to eat but we were still expecting jesse. i was very hungry so i went ahead and served myself and sat down at the table in the dining room. everyone else was still in the kitchen getting their plates.

i wanted to start eating, but i thought it would be polite to wait, so i waited. the doorbell rang. "that's jesse," said tom, and went to go open the door. from the dining room i could hear the conversation in the foyer.

jesse: is your sister still mad at me?
tom: no, don't worry about it it, it's cool.
jesse: i think i really pissed her off last time.
tom: nah, she's forgotten all about it.

i sat staring at my baked oysters and my tomato soup.

it wasn't until i told jesse about the dream that he told me tom did indeed have a sister. in my dream she and jesse had gotten into an argument over politics.

i woke up really hungry.

skin

i dreamt i was using a lotion on my face which faded away my freckles. i looked in the mirror and saw a stranger.

triangle

i dreamt that i was at a party with a lot of tech people. i was having a pretty good time talking to one nice guy who looked a lot like Richard Kind. he was funny in that dry, self-deprecating way i really like. perhaps i had had a lot to drink but i started flirting with him quite fluidly and easily. he said, after a certain point, "hey, do you want to go to the Caribbean with me? just for a day. i mean, i have a private jet type thing, so if you wanted to - we wouldn't have to spend the night."

i was completely non-plussed. a private jet? i didn't know what to say. "um, sure," i said. i mean, why not?

so we went for a day, and i don't remember that part, but it was great i think. he was a complete gentleman, and brought me home that night, as promised.

then later that week we were both invited to a small dinner party in a cozy New York apartment with beautiful wood floors and wood paneling in the dining room. the man - i think his name was Paul - and i again flirted heavily. we even kissed. then somehow the question of my coming over to his place came up. "i could just have my driver come round whenever you're ready to go," he said.

i smiled, but suddenly i wasn't sure. i pictured getting into bed with him, and i just couldn't do it. so in my dream i pretended to fall asleep on the couch or something and the hostess of the dinner party let me stay the night.

a few weeks later i was at another event in the daytime, some sort of end-of-conference party at a resort. the hotel decor was very South Beach, with pale pearly pink and ecru and a lot of wicker and palm trees. we were near the ocean. i was wearing a long floral dress.

i was standing by the outdoor bar when a good-looking man caught my eye. he had soft dark hair and a moustache, and was wearing a slightly rumpled black suit with a white shirt. sort of a young latino johnny depp. he smiled at me, and we started talking. "this place is beautiful, but you should get out of hotel and on to the beach," he said. "let's go take a ride - i've got my employer's car."

oh my goodness, it was Miguel, Paul's driver. i smiled my most flirtatious smile, because i really liked him. he had a directness that i admired. "well, i might have to go this party later tonight," i said.

"do you have a date?"

"mmmm, not yet." smile, smile, smile.

"maybe i could be your date."

"maybe you could."

i excused myself to go get a snack from inside. at the buffet table i met yet another young man, Jason. he had wholesome looks often described as "All-American" - a squared-off jaw, steely blue eyes, light brown hair. not my type, generally - too clean-cut. but i guess i was on a roll or something because we started talking. "are you going to this party thing later tonight?" he asked.

"i was thinking about it. why, were you?"

"maybe. i'd go if you'd come as my date."

it turned out that he was the son of Paul, the first man i'd met weeks ago.

what a soap opera!

attacked

i dreamt that i lived in a small village which hadn't seen warfare in a long time. we had peace treaties with neighboring tribes, and we felt safe and secure. then one evening, a villager ran into the town shouting that we were under attack. one of the tribes had broken their pact with us. we were ill-prepared to defend ourselves. i was the senior warrior in the village, and it was my responsibility to decide what to do. my instinct was to fight - i felt angry, betrayed, and a surge of aggression coursed through me. but as i looked around at the frightened villagers, i realized we would never stand a chance against our enemy. i decided to give orders that everyone gather what they could and run to the hills, to hide in the numerous caves there.

i ran through the village, prodding and shouting and motivating my fellow tribespeople. when i was sure that everyone had at least received the order, i began to retreat myself. in my path i found an old couple - a man and a woman - and i took them under my wing, although i knew they would slow me down. as i hastened them along, i noticed a young woman with a baby trying to wrap some food up in a scarf. i hurried over to her. "there's no time for that - come on," i told her. i tugged at her elbow. "i know you can do it."

we five - the grandmother and the grandfather, the mother and the baby, and i, the warrior woman - hurried to the hills. i knew of a cave there which, although very small, was hard to find and big enough to shelter us. the terrain was tough going for my crew, who stumbled with exhaustion several times. grimly i kept them going with encouragement mixed with threats. several times i circled back to help my struggling charges, one by one, often physically carrying them up the hill.

we finally made it to the cave - really nothing more than a tiny hole in the rock where the five of us could crouch. i told the young woman to quiet her baby, and told the others to sit still and wait. i sat with an arrow in my bow. from my seat i could see the outline of the cave mouth clearly. the sun had set and now the moon rose. it was cold. we could hear the sounds of the village below us being destroyed - the wailing of women and children, the sounds of fire crackling. but we, at least, were safe, and i was determined that we should stay that way.

suddenly a shape obscured the moonlight in front of me. i fired my arrow. it hit the man in the throat, and he toppled over backwards and fell gently down the mountain. the adrenaline coursed through my veins as i got another arrow ready.

i woke up with my heart pounding.

misremembered

I had a really strange dream last night but I can't remember it. It was extremely elaborate, however, involving a large and diverse cast.

Do you remember your dreams? I know quite a few people who don't.

hotel room

i dreamt that robin and i were sharing a hotel room somewhere, along with a chatty woman in her sixties whom neither of us knew very well. it was a warm and friendly room, although the chatty lady was making me a bit nervous as i was getting ready for bed.

i don't remember how this happened exactly, but jesse and his friend tom were in town too, and needed to crash in the hotel room with us. we let them sleep on the floor next to the bed.

the woman i didn't know kept talking to me, and i was surprised at how much she knew about me. i began to be a little uncomfortable, although everything she said was very flattering. i was in my pajamas, she was wearing a weird housecoat. she had a seperate bed on the other side of the room; robin and i were sharing the other. robin was talking to me too, and i found that comforting. a familiar voice. she got in on the side of the bed near the light. the other side was dark.

"why do i have to have this side of the bed?" i asked her jokingly.

"so you can be closer to jesse," she said, laughing mischievously. jesse was sleeping on the floor on my side of the bed.

i thought it strange at the time, because i didn't know that i *wanted* to be closer to jesse.

i woke up as my dream-self fell asleep.

oranges

i dreamt i showed up to a housewarming party with a huge platter of beautiful oranges. i walked up to the door and rang the bell. as i waited i stared down at the oranges and wished to eat one.

it's possible that i am vitamin-c deficient. i must take care to guard against scurvy.

hacker

i dreamt that one of the annoying people on gamegirladvance pissed me off so much i sent him a letter. i wrote, "thank you for your comments. i appreciate that you're contributing to the dialogue. however, there are times when your valid points become submerged under your penchant for personal attacks, unneccesarily snarky jibes, and reactionary language. this isn't the sort of communication i'd like to foster at gamegirladvance, and as editor it's my job to moderate the tone where possible. i would like to keep gga censorship-free - however, it's also my duty to elevate the terms of the dialogue. i would like to invite you to participate more deeply and thoughtfully."

and in my dream he got so pissed off he hacked the site, putting up his own . i woke up anxious and depressed.

Fire and Ice

I dreamt I was attending a huge concert at a stadium with my sister. We walked in and found ourselves in a very large industrial kitchen. The workers there greeted us kindly. "Yeah, just go through the kitchen to get to the seats," they told us.

Anne was fascinated by the kitchen, and we took our time going through it. There were all kinds of tools and devices and ovens and pots and pans. There was one skinny guy chopping at the end of the table. He had large dark eyes with a sleepy look and long curly hair reminiscent of Prince's Purple Rain 'do. He said hello, and we stopped to talk to him.

He started giving us advice about sex. I can't remember exactly what he said, but it annoyed me just a little. "There's a lot of heat in sexuality, but you have to control it," he was saying. "And sometimes the only way to do that is through abstinence."

At one point I said something like, "Listen, I'm having sex, and it's GREAT." "I'm sure it is," he said dismissively, and handed me a small book. It had his photo on the cover. "This is my book," he said. "It'll help you." The title was Fire and Ice and it was about abstinence as a cure for something - again, I can't really remember the details!

I looked at the cover photo, then the name - Richard Ritchie. "Oh my god, you're Lionel Ritchie's son!" I said.

He smiled. "Yes I am. The title of the book comes from one of my dad's songs."

Anne and I finally made it to our seats and the concert began. I couldn't take my eyes off the cover of the strange little sex advice book written by Lionel Ritchie's son.

Trace

I dreamt about my mother last night. I woke up feeling a trace of her presence, as if she had only gone on a short trip and would be right back.

Somehow that feeling comforted me.

Je Rap

I dreamt we were sitting in a casual restaurant, sunlight glancing off white walls, on pale wooden chairs. Two boys and a girl at the table next to ours were discussing a French hard-core rap song - from what I could make out, the artist was some sort of French Eminem. They were laughing uproariously. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, and the chorus goes something like this -" and the girl quoted a part of the song, which I didn't understand,

But my date blushed. "I know those words," he explained. "I know that song - it goes like this." And he recited more of it for me.

"What does it mean?"

But he wouldn't explain. I got very concerned about the time, since we were running late to a movie I wanted to see. And then I had to go to the bathroom.

I woke up feeling late for something. As well as needing to pee.

To Market, To Market

I raise pigs for a living. Not just any pigs, but the finest animals you've ever seen, with wonderfully marbled meat. The Kobe beef of pigs. I live in a large, sunny house in North Berkeley somewhere, with a great big garden out back. I'm not sure if this is where I raise the animals. The pigs are so precious I only take one at a time to the market.

It's exciting, and nerve-wracking, at the market. The auctioneer will buy certain animals of high quality and then resell them. It's first come, first serve (or sold), so you have to show up early. I and my friends and colleagues show up early and nudge our way ahead in line. After a few minutes it's our turn. We present our beautiful pig, beribboned. We wait with bated breath. The auctioneer (who bears a striking resemblance to Lou Gosset Jr.) carefully examines the animal. The pig is small, but perfect. "A fine specimen," he pronounces. We get a good price - an unexpectedly good price. We are relieved and happy. We go to celebrate.

A few months later it's time to go again. I am even more nervous this time. Our pig is not quite as good as the first, and a little smaller. I fear there will be better pigs. In fact I'm sure of it. The trick is to go early.

We get there very early; we are second in line. The auctioneer's helper is a young Japanese boy, skinny, with sharp elbows. He is serious about his training. The auctioneer examines the pig while my heart pounds. "You guys do good work," he says casually. He is not very thorough in his exam. "I trust that this is another fine pig." He gives us the same price, although I know the pig is not as good.

I accept his judgement and take the money but I feel shame.

Sex and Death

Both dreams last night woke me up. In the first, I was an occult researcher who had, perhaps unwisely, made the acquaintance of a very old, and very strange, vampire. This vampire was given to fits of depression and ennui, but on the whole I felt I could trust him. And then one evening I was invited to observe a session that one of my colleagues had arranged, part of her experiment in taming vampires. She believed that they could be rehabilitated. It took place in an abandoned church. I and a few others sat in the dark in the pews, while the vampire in question sat in a chair just under the altar. The researcher put some questions to the subject, which he answered humbly to her apparent satisfaction, and then she brought out a young girl. She instructed the girl to approach the vampire, which she did without fear. The vampire spoke to her kindly. And then suddenly he reached out and bit the girl's neck, killing her instantly.

I was very chilled by this event. When I got back to my study, the vampire of my acquaintance was lounging on the sofa. The light of the pre-dawn morning filtered blue through the windows, and I was very scared. The vampire complained about something that had done him wrong and touched my hand. His hand was cold, like the dead. I woke up with my heart pounding.

In my second dream, I had to go back to high school because for some reason I had never finished it. I was terrified, but I made myself walk down into the valley. I passed various windows through which I could see the happy activity of learning take place within. I made for the main administrative building.

Bill Smoot, my old philosophy and ancient history teacher was standing out front. He had shaved off his beard, but otherwise looked the same. He looked at me oddly until recognition dawned, and he said in his gentle Southern drawl, "Why, it's Jane. How are you?" And then I went inside, where the administrative staff was just the same. They greeted me kindly, too. Murray Cohen was now the head of the school - he had been an English teacher of mine - and they suggested I go see him. I went into his office. He looked very pleased to see me. I was about to explain that I had never graduated and had to go back to school when I remembered that of course I'd graduated; I remembered the ceremony, the speech, the diploma. How would I have gotten into college otherwise?

So I stumbled, and instead explained that I wanted to work there. "That's marvelous," said Murray.

There were other faculty to meet. One of them was a math teacher I'd had in seventh and eighth grade, at a different school - a tall, rangy woman with lean bones. We started talking. She gave me a novel to read, which was about infidelity. Some time - weeks or months, I don't know - passed, and I was walking to her house one afternoon after school. When I got there she welcomed me as if we had known each other intimately recently. We made love on her sofa under her window, but all the while I ws thinking of the novel she'd given me. Why was the man in it unfaithful?

Abruptly she said, "Okay," and stopped. "You're fine." But I didn't feel fine. I felt distant, distracted. She handed me a post-sex questionnaire. I stared at one of the questions, "Do you feel a) lost in love...?"

I woke up with Air Supply's "Lost in Love" in my head.

ah, the mystery of woman

i always seem to have an extremely sexual dream the night before my period starts.

i suppose other ladies have similar experiences?

production

i dreamt i was staging a new production of "Les Miserables" in the house where i grew up, on the kitchen floor. i had a crowd of dancers and i was teaching them moves i'd choreographed for the "I Am Jean Valjean" piece. it was to be a comic musical in the broad cinematic colorful style of the 30's, so i had all the gentlemen twirling around in circles. but the kitchen was too small.

and Tony Shalhoub was the star.

school

i dreamt last night i was a mother, bringing my daughter to kindergarten for her first day of school. she was nervous and she hid behind me. i tried to reassure her by acting as if everything was normal and all right, but i knew it wasn't. i felt anxious too. i could see my daughter's future spread out before her, growing up in elementary school, in junior high, in high school - all the problems she'd encounter, all the frustrations, the pain. and i felt very sad and frustrated that i couldn't protect her from all that.

with anne in amsterdam

i dreamt i was in Amsterdam. i stayed in a lovely time-share flat at the top of a townhouse, a spacious attic; from the western window i could see all of the city as the sun slowly went down. every morning i took the train and a short, pretty walk to a university where i was either teaching a class or taking a class.

then my sister came to meet me, along with the Rheingolds, Mamie and Judy. we all stayed together in the flat. the morning after Anne arrived, she wanted to make fresh apple pie. i said, let's go out on the city and take an early morning walk before everyone else wakes up. so we went to the train station, bought a ticket, and we were going to go, but then Anne saw some apples she wanted to get at a fruit stand just outside the train station. so we snuck out to get the apples, but one of the train conducters caught us. "What are you doing? You think you don't need to pay?"

"But we did pay, we just didn't go through..."

"No excuses! Everyone must pay!"

but i was able to produce my unused ticket and he let us go. walking home from the fruit stand we ran into Justin Timberlake, who was going lo-pro in a big powder-blue puffy coat, hat, and sunglasses. he flashed me a smile and we exchanged a secret hand wave before he sauntered off. Anne observed, and asked, "What was that all about?"

"Oh, Justin and I are secretly dating. But we can't let anyone know, of course."

Of course.

bad food

i dreamt i was eating all kinds of terrible junk food, food i don't usually touch: Twix bars and Hostess Cups and masses of Dorito-like chips. my stomach felt heavy.

i woke up and spoke to my sister today. she told me she'd had a similar dream. does depression cause dreams about over-eating?

dangerous sex

i dreamt that i was riding in a convertible, and i gave a young man a ride. he was a golden-haired athlete with a breezy manner. i was feeling free and powerful, and it was pleasant to flirt with him. it made me feel good.

he enjoyed it, too. i pulled up to his house. he leapt out, said goodbye, then hesitated. he leaned over the open window on the driver's side and, hair falling in eyes, asked if he oculd see me again. i laughed and suggested we meet right now, in his apartment.

i followed him up the stairs. his place was extremely nice - beautiful warm wood, floor-to-ceiling windows that opened up onto a tree-lined view. there was his bed, in the middle of the room. but we sat on the couch for a bit. i boldly asked him if he wanted to go to bed with me. he assented.

kissing, we moved effortlessly to the bed. but as we fell into the covers a chill came over me. he was holding my wrists very tightly. i told him it hurt, but he didn't seem to hear. suddenly i grew very afraid. what had i gotten myself into? i had no idea who this guy was. i was terrified. i told him to stop. i couldn't struggle against him without injuring myself. and when i looked into his eyes i was suddenly sure that he meant to do me harm. but in my dream i was powerless to act.

i woke up sweating. i felt terribly guilty at first because it was all my fault, and then i realized that it wasn't wrong of me to want a casual fling; it wasn't wrong of me to resist when it turned in a direction that frightened me. more than anything, this dream simply reinforced for me my conviction that rape is never a woman's fault.

flirt

another dream of sexuality unbound.

i am living in a large, beautiful house with a handful of men. it's like some sort of sitcom, "Four Guys and a Model" - for in my dream i am stunningly attractive.

i wake up one morning, possibly after a party, and i put on a very short skirt and a clingy strappy tank top. i walk down to the large, open kitchen, which has a huge window that faces the sea. i am in search of juice, i am hung over.

one of my roommates expresses admiration for the top i'm wearing. it's such great fabric, he says, staring at my tits. i smile coquettishly. yes it is - would you like to touch it? he gingerly touches my side. i squirm so that his hand brushes my breast. i reach down suddenly and feel his erection through is pants. i laugh and move out of his reach to open the refrigerater.

later there is a brief scene co-starring an ex-boyfriend, in which he giggles and acts silly as i remove my underwear, kick it aside, and try to climb on top of him. he's acting too goofy, it's putting me off, but i try rubbing his chest with my hands and lying half on top of him on a couch, letting him feel my weight and the way my breasts are crushed against his ribms.

later, Catherine Zeta Jones enters the scene as my best buddy. i make her a cocktail for breakfast. she is dressed like me, sexily and skimpily. i light a cigarette, take my cocktail in my other hand, and suggest we go for a walk.

we saunter out into the sunny summer day. men look at us, of course, openly and unabashedly. i a loving it. in my sunglasses i look so cool.

but then we pass by another girl, in a swimsuit, wearing similar sunglasses and smoking, and taking these tiny mincing little steps, and suddenly i realize how much i might look like her, and i don't feel so cool anymore.

i wake up.

heat

it starts like a game, massively multiplayer online game, an immersive and graphicaly beautiful world. i am a lithe thief in a fantasy of an ancient arab world, a time when great cities held majesty over the stunning bleak beauty of the desert sands. my companion and i are in the market bazaar, in one of the large cities. it is a colorful affair, and populated by many people. we are shopping for equipment before we go adventuring.

i buy some clothes that will protect me from the sun. they are robes, light and beautiful. at this point i am truly in the game. i choose robes of shimmery, shifting blues and purples and i wrap my head in a scarf. the light muslin feels wonderful against my skin. then i indicate to my companion that i am ready.

she leads the way, threading through the throngs at the bazaar. she has acquired a horse, somehow, and i can't seem to get one. but i can run fast and light and without food or rest, so i just tag her to follow and eventually we are out of the city, spinning into the desert itself.

it is beautiful. the land reaches before us. the sands glow and shift in the sun. we run.

we stop when we come to a ring of ancient, dusty ruins. surely there is treasure here, we believe. i, cat-like, leap easily onto the low wall and enter the main complex. the ruins are shadowed, sunlight filters through sporadically. it is silent. my companion has fallen behind, perhaps distracted by something. suddenly i hear a commotion outside and i run back to check on my companion. she has been captured by guards. "run!" she says. the guards notice me. the captain points. "seize her!" a guard lunges for me.

but i am quick, and stealthy. i slide back into a crevice, slither into another crack, i use all my hide skill. i am almost invisible. my heart is rattling, my breath comes short and fast. but the guard who follows me is fast, too. he catches a sliver of my cloak. although i let it fall, i am slowed down and, worse, discovered. he is stronger than i, and i am trapped.

i hiss, like a cat. he grabs me like a cat, around the torso, my limbs flailing. i am much smaller than he is, and he can carry me easily. but i've wounded him with my dagger before he knocks it to the floor - he has a small bloody cut, now, above the left eyebrow.

he hauls me back towards the entrance, back to the low wall i jumped on when i first entered. the other guards are packing up, my companion is subdued. he lifts me up, still like some sort of animal, to hoist me over the wall. but as he does so my face comes up close to his neck. in the desert heat his masculine scent is overpowering, i am overcome. the tussle we've had has fired up my adrenaline, quickened my pulse. he pauses, sensing something, he falters and hesitates.

"bring the last one over here!" says the captain from the road. he is already mounted.

but the guard who holds me does not move. he is still, his hands on my waist. i feel the warmth of his palms intensely. more than anything i want to feel them on my skin. i let myself relax into his arms and lean in to sniff gently at his neck, soft and exposed. i am overwhelmed by the scent there. i want to bite it, to lick it. i feel drugged. sluggish. my body feels weak, my desire is strong.

he sighs. i wake up.

fancy obedience school

i am working as a pet-sitter for a very wealthy family who have just aquired a new kitten. they want me to enrich its life, play with it while they are gone, feed it, show it love and affection. they have also signed up the kitten for pet obedience school, for an exorbitant sum. i privately think this is absurd but after all i am getting paid so...

i attach a thin pink thread to the collar of the kitten and we go to the pet obedience school, which is exactly like a fancy restaurant, complete with white tableclothes and candles. the other pet owners are taking drinks at a table, their pets lounging at their feet. i sit down too, although i feel out of place, and the kitten sits in my lap. people are just sitting around talking about their pets.

i think it's probably all a waste of time and money but the wine is really good so i'm not going to complain. i play with the kitten in my lap.

Congratulations, Caterina

i am a wedding guest at Caterina Fake's wedding. i have been invited to stay at her house and because i am so grateful, i feel i should help with the reception organization. when i arrive, her house is a beautiful big brown-shingled affair and full of her relatives. her sister and mother waste no time putting me to work. i am arranging flowers, setting tables. it is sunny and beautiful. i am happy i can help.

and then i meet Caterina as she's coming down the stairs, wearing a light blue linen dress and carrying a bouquet of bright wildflowers. i tell her congratulations, and she smiles and tells me she is so happy.

Beach

The bright sun sparkles on a beach straight out of a Hawaiian travel brochure. The sun is so bright it makes the colors more intense. White, white sand and brilliantly blue waters. It is warm, and heavenly.

I am a girl, about 14 or 15, on a Hawaiian vacation. My parents have left me in charge of my little brother and little sister, who are around 6 and 8 years old. They are happily building a sand castle. I am bored. I wish I could go hang out with other kids my age. Behind me is a small cliff that rings around the beach. It is not very high, perhaps around 60 feet or so. Above it are some palm trees and what looks like a picnic table. I think it might be fun to try to climb up there.

"Hey," I say to the kids, "I'm just going to go up there, OK?" I point to the picnic table. "I'll be able to see you the whole time, so no fooling around! I'll be right back." They barely pay attention to me. They are too absorbed in what they're doing. I know they'll be fine.

I walk to the cliff and begin to climb. It is pretty easy - there are plenty of footholds, and the face is not sheer at all, but it takes a little longer than I expected. Finally I am at the top - indeed it was a picnic table I saw. There are a few people up here, enjoying the view of the beach and taking photos of eachother. I look back down at the beach and see my brother and sister, who are still in the same place. I can feel a warm breeze and I am very happy. I realize that I probbaly won't be able to get down this way but I know that there is a path to the beach if I skirt around the cliff for a few hundred feet.

My little brother runs toward the water to refill his pail. I want to shout at him to be careful, but I know he won't hear me. Then a strange thing happens. The water recedes dramatically, as if it is suddenly low tide. My brother stops, confused. I can imagine his facial expression: "where did all the ocean go?"

Behind me, the one of the other tourists gasps. "Oh my God!" she says, pointing.

There is a wall of water gathering in the ocean. A giant tidal wave.

I'm stricken with fear and panic. I want to run down and drag my siblings away but I can't move. I scream at them, but my voice is caught in the wind. Everyone on the beach stands frozen.

One of the tourists grabs my arm. A young man. "Come on!" he says. The others are running away, back towards the montains. I shake off his hand because I have to get down to the beach. He grabs me again and hauls me toward a palm tree. "There's no time!" he says. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and the tree and says, "Just try to hold on" right before the water hits.

It's a tremendous blow. I am crushed against the rough bark of the palm tree. The water tries to pull me loose and toss me in its waves, but the man's arms hold us there.

When the water is finally drained away I realize how narrowly I've escaped. The man's shirt and shorts are in tatters. The necklace he was wearing is gone, claimed by the wave. My arms are sore. The tree has been pulled half off its roots, and all its leaves are stripped away.

"Where are your parents?" my rescuer asks me.

But I can't answer him. I'm looking down at the beach. It is clean, white and sparkling. No footprints or sand castles remain.

I'm not sure, but I think I wake up crying.

Tsunami

(I had many different versions of this dream as a child. I don't know if it's based on a story my mother told me, or if it's some sort of deeply-held cultural memory.)

I am ten, eleven. A boy. I live in a tiny Japanese fishing village in some century before the present one. I live alone. No, with my grandfather. We live in a tiny one-room hut with a hard-packed earth floor and a thatch roof that leaks. We are outcasts, my grandfather and I. People in the village do not trust us. I don't know why. But we live on the very outskirts of the small community, half-way up a rocky hillside.

In my dream it is night and raining torrentially. I tend to the fire while my grandfather mends nets, holding each knot a hand's breadth from his eyes. The firelight flickers, and I am scared. Outside the trees shudder against the thin walls and the great monster of the storm moans. It is hungry. Suddenly my grandfather stands up and cocks his head, as if listening for something under the noises of water and wind. He hobbles to the door and slides it open. I am aghast but do nothing to stop him. Instead of going out, he stands staring for a long time. Then he turns to me. "Kenchan, listen carefully," he barks roughly. "You must go to the villagers, tell them all to climb the mountain behind the village, the one where the Storm God's shrine stands."

I nod. It does not occur to me to disobey, however crazy his order sounds.

"Make sure you wear your wool kimono," he says. "Go quickly. Be careful."

I slip into my rope sandals and run into the storm. The closest house belongs to a man who is not a very successful fisherman. My father used to be his friend. Now my father is dead. I knock on the door.

"Who's there?!" he shouts angrily.

"Please, it's Kenji. My grandfather says we must go to Susano's shrine on top of the mountain."

"What? That crazy old man. You should know better than to bother people this late at night. Get lost!"

At the next house a more sympathetic woman answers. "You'll catch your death of cold running around like this, Kenchan! Go home, go to bed."
"Please, grandfather says-"

"Good night!"

I run on and on, with mounting terror. No one listens. I slip and fall, muddying myself. I've lost a sandal and my feet hurt. I run back, exhausted, to grandfather, who is still watching the night.

He greets my news with businesslike calm. "Then you must go yourself. Hurry. There's no time."

"But-"

"Go! I am coming right behind you, but you must not wait for me. I will meet you up there. Go now!" He gives me a light slap on the back. I think I can't run up the hill but I do. Something is terribly wrong, I know, but I don't know what. I run up the slippery path, breathing as if my lungs would split open. I run and run until I reach the top of the mountain and the shrine to Susano, the Storm God. There is a large and old willow tree there and I huddle in the roots, waiting for my grandfather. But there is a roar from the sea, and I run to where I can look down at the village. A huge wall of water looms over it. I can't see my grandfather. "Ojiichan!" I scream, but the water crashing into the village obliterates my voice. It is as if I am screaming silently.

"Ojiichan!"

And then the water recedes, a dark oily tide, and I see that the beach has been swept clean. There is nothing to suggest that people had ever lived, worked, loved, died there. "Ojiichan!" Cold rain washes away my hot tears so that I don't even know anymore if I grieve.

Vampire

(This dream begins with a prologue of memory: when I was a kid, I was terrified of vampires. It was so bad I couldn't sleep on my back because I would keep imagining a dark form looming over me. To this day I sleep with my neck tightly covered. But I've always felt an odd sort of sympathy for them, too...)

In my high school gym, I am practicing with the epée. My teacher comes in. His name is Leon, and he is a Russian fencing master who used to teach the Royal Family. I idolize and adore him - to me, he seems the finest, most virtuous man, after my father, of course. He corrects my stance and we spar together.

Time passes - a day or a week, I'm not sure. I see through someone else's eyes. My father is standing in a field, alone. He stands very still, and I notice that he has an epée in his hand. I see a dark form, far away at the other end of the field, which slowly approaches. It is Leon. I want to cry out, because I know something terrible is about to happen, but I can't make a sound; I'm not really there, just seeing the scene.

Leon is close now, and he smiles. My father raises his weapon. Leon disposes of it easily. I don't see the killing blow. I've closed my eyes.

Back in the high school gym, I confront Leon with tears in my eyes. "How could you?" I ask him. He smiles. Then I see that his teeth are too white, and too sharp. "You are a vampire," I say with recognition. He nods, still smiling. Stiffly, and with severe formality, I challenge him to a duel.

Later, my family is gathered in the gym. My mother is kneeling beside me, buckling on my light armor - which will be useless, as I intend to fight to the death. Across the room, Leon waits, smiling. I feel incredibly sad, not angry. My family is weeping softly. They know as well as I that I will probably die today. But as the oldest child, it is my place to seek retribution for my father's murder. And I don't care if I die.

you may already be a winner

i dreamt i had entered a contest in a bookstore which bore a strong resemblance to University Press Books. while i was at the bookstore with a couple of fellow academicians, the bookstore worker said to me, "hey, you won the contest! you're going to get $156,000!"

strangely, i wasn't that excited, because the money didn't seem very real to me. we walked back to our hotel room, my mates and i (i think we were at a conference or something) and one of the girls said, "oh yeah, that check did come for you. don't worry, i put it in your room, in a safe place."

i wasn't worried before but this made me worried. i wondered what she meant by "safe place." then the other girl said, "are you gay?"

"am i?" i said, a bit startled.

"no, no," she laughed, "i said, 'is your hair green?'"

"oh. um, no."

"must be the light," she said. then we reached our hotel. N*Sync was outside, signing autographs for a crowd of young girls. the three of us shook our heads. "couldn't they find another hotel to stay in?" complained one of my friends.

i went upstairs to my room, hoping the check for $156,000 would be there somewhere. but i kind of knew it wouldn't be.

i woke up as i was reaching for the doorknob.

hot photo shoot

i'm a fashion photographer on a shoot. my subject is a rock band, i think... or maybe a hip hop outfit. we're in an enormous warehouse studio, with a huge set that includes a giant wire cage, kind of like the one from Beyond the Thunderdome, although more squared off. the band is dressed in ragged urban-warrior gear and music is playing really loudly. i also have quite a sizeable crew assisting me, including lighting guys, makeup people, and some other techie types who seem very busy, although i have no idea what their purpose is.

the shoot is uninspired; i'm bored by my subject, but trying really hard to stay focused and keep the energy up. then, i have an idea; i climb up to the top of the wire cage and take shots of the band from up there.

it's working, and i'm really happy, but for some reason the cage is swaying back and forth and i'm terrified of falling. my assistant is up on the cage with me, holding my extra film and light meter and stuff. he's a really hot guy. a bit embarrassed, i ask him if he could just drop the other stuff and hold my waist as i lean out over the edge of the cage to get better angle. he agrees, although he gives me a look that seems to suggest he thinks that's just a line.

i lean out and start shooting, stretched out on my stomach and with my upper torso hanging over the edge. my assistant is practically right on top of me. the cage swaying harder and harder. it's quite distracting.

i wake up kinda hot and bothered.

an artful murder

I am the daughter of a wealthy family in the Presidio. We collect art, we give great parties, we dress up with pearls in pale colors. I am quite happy but very shy and awkward - my older sister is a dazzling beauty, and I just can't compete with her. I love her, however, and I'm not jealous at all.

My family is throwing a particularly lavish party one weekend. The guests have stayed in our gigantic home and we are now all gathering in the morning for a tasteful little brunch. My sister is not there. Apprehensive, I go to her room and discover that she has been murdered during the night.

Shock and horror are absorbed quickly (it's a dream). In the room, I notice that there is a painting I have never seen before. It is a strange painting, of a woman in bed, but floating strangely above the mattress. Then I realize that there are actually two women in the bed. To me, this is a clear sign that the murderer is planning to kill again. I think that I am the probable victim.

I am quite horrified, naturally; I begin to regard all my guests with suspicion. The police come, inspect the room, and leave without comment. I am unsure of what to do.

Then my sister's boyfriend comes to my room. He seems to need companionship. I can understand that he is quite distraught, but I feel guilty. He is very handsome, and charming, and it's difficult not to be attracted to him. As we talk, I am more and more overcome by my sense of longing and wistfulness. Perhaps I just want someone to hold me. To my utter surprise, he embraces me. As we kiss, I know for certain that he must be the murderer and I his next victim. But somehow I feel rather serene about this knowledge.

We are about to get into bed together and then I wake up.

My Stupidly Vivid Dreams

(all of my dreams are extremely vivid and most of them are idiotic.)

i dreamt last night i went to the Superbowl by accident. i was driving the Toyota Corolla station wagon my family had when i was a kid, and i had my now-deceased dog, Skipper, in the back. Skipper, by the way, was the greatest dog ever. so i'm driving down 880 or something and i have to get off the freeway because it narrowed to a point where i knew i couldn't pass through. as i get off the freeway i realize i'm near the stadium, and somehow i get stuck in the "this way to parking lot" lane. the parking security folks wave me imperiously around, and they don't seem to be able to hear me explain that i just want to get out. eventually, however, i park in a far corner of the lot and get out. Skipper sticks his head out of the window. and i'm right next to the stadium, and it's half-time, and they're performing "Aida," so i listen to it for a moment. i wake up with "Aida" in my head.