Tag: traveling

Refreshing Change of Dreams

Two other men and I were going on trips. Dressed in business suits with ties, we traveled to the airport in a limo. One would be going on with me while the third was going elsewhere.

We arrived, checked in, and was informed, “You’ve been upgraded to first class.”

Well, that was certainly a pleasant surprise. My friends and I inquired why. The agent didn’t know, so we travelers accepted the news and celebrated.

Then, I was notified that I’d won ten million dollars in a lottery.

Ten million! Wow. Well, it’d be less than that after taxes. Still, there was cause for celebration, right?

I didn’t remember entering a lottery. No matter. I made immediate arrangements to feed some children I’d read about. The man doing the paperwork with me was very snarky about it. I was cold and snarky back.

Then it was onto the plane. As I settled into my ultra-plush first-class seat, I dwelled in fantasies about what changes I could make to my life.

Dream end.

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Today’s Dream

Recurring themes proliferate in recent dreams: traveling. Being in an airport. Lost. Confused.

I had what seemed like one long dream. If it was a movie, it would have been about the length of Gone with the Wind — three hours and forty-two minutes. It just stretched on, and all took place in an airport.

But I’m focusing on one piece. I was traveling with a group of friends, waiting for our flight. We decided to walk down as a group to a corner store to get something to eat for the flight, or while waiting for it. But, we also discussed it and decided to buy food to donate. Thinking of that, I was looking in a large drum. Full of cans, I was selecting two to buy and donate to a food bank. As I was doing that, a large group of people came in through the narrow doors behind me, pushing me forward. I ended up being shoved into another guy’s back. Though I tried not to, I couldn’t help but plowing into him, almost knocking him over.

A big guy with short ginger hair, he was wearing a yellow-print shirt. He turned on me in anger. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I was trying to apologize and explain. At the same time, I had a can in my right hand (a can of peaches, as it was). If he came at me, I was going to swing that can at his head as hard as I could, but I hoped it didn’t come to that.

It seemed likely but as he advanced, a larger man stepped up between us. “He’s already apologized,” this man said to ginger head. “It wasn’t his fault. The crowd pushed him forward. Why don’t you drop it?”

I liked that in the midst of all this, a person was stepping up to help and protect me. Ginger head moved sullenly away and the big guy went on. Then I did the same, proceeding into the next part of the dream.

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Airport & Parking Dream

Airports are another frequent feature in my dreams. I was in one again last night.

It was a lengthy dream. First, there was going to the airport. I was with my wife at that point and we just walked into the airport. Modern and friendly, the airport was as busy and hectic as a children’s playground. I met with a friend who sold us tickets. Business was slow, so he was also fishing and selling his catch. We laughed about that. Most interesting was that his fishing lines rose into the sky like he was controlling kites. We didn’t think anything of it.

After buying the tickets, I had time and busied myself shopping, eating, and walking around, classic time killing, airport style. While doing this, I saw a wonderful orb spider web. It was perfect. Just as I was about to comment on it, a woman ahead of me turned to it. Dressed in a red dress with red shoes and hat, this thin blonde woman walked into the spider web. As she did, I told her, “You’re walking into a spider web.”

She freaked when the web came across her face, and fell backwards. I was expecting that and easily caught her shoulders and kept her upright. While she expressed thanks, I helped her collect her purse, hat, and shoes. Yes, she’d lost her shoes. She joked, “I was scared right out of my shoes.” After helping her, I checked the spider web. It remained intact, which pleased me.

I encountered several friends. One was looking for me. She needed help with her math work for her college class. She showed me the problem. Hugely involved, it was supposed to be a formula for setting an item’s price. She was asking, “What should I do first?” I tried explaining math’s order of operations. She didn’t understand. Borrowing her textbook, I hunted for items in the book to help her, and then worked on the problem myself.

It took more time than I expected, and I didn’t solve it. Now I was two hours late and needed to rush. Going through the airport, I saw my friend again. Others near me wondered aloud what his lines were for. I explained to them that business was bad so he was augmenting his income by catching and selling fish. They didn’t believe me so I took them to him and verified it.

Then, really, I needed to go because I was late. But I couldn’t recall where I’d parked my car. Then, thinking I knew where I’d parked my car, I needed to figure a way to get there because it was far. I learned a shuttle was available to reach it. I purchased a ticket for the shuttle. It showed up after a few minutes. I put my things in the trunk and rode with the rest. At the other end, I got off, collected my stuff, and looked around. I knew right off that this wasn’t where my car was parked. I went to the man and told him. He said I needed to take a second shuttle from there, and to put my stuff back into the trunk. When I went to do so, that car had left without me. I was surprised and a little upset but immediately started working on another plan to reach my car. Looking around, I started figuring out where I was and then decided I could walk to my car.

That’s where the dream ended.

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The Shirt Dream

I’d arrived at an airport wearing a blue Oxford shirt and carrying a briefcase. I was pleased with that shirt; I liked it. I thought the color suited me and I liked my image.

The airport was just a counter and a waiting room with a few chairs. Timing was good as the flight was due to depart shortly. I checked in and sat down to wait. Friends came by, looking for car parts. I tried helping them by telling them where they could find parts. Some part of the conversation prompted me to warn them not to steal my car parts while I was gone. I was only going for one night and would be returning the next day so that little worried me, just an up and back, but I was pleased to be going, looking forward to it.

Then I thought, wait, what am I going to wear tomorrow? I can wear the same jeans and shoes, but I want fresh underwear, a shirt, and socks. Yes, I decided with some further thought, I do. It was twenty minutes until the flight was departing. Fortunately, I lived next door. I hurried over to find the needed clothes. Underwear and socks were immediately found and stuck in the briefcase, but I couldn’t find a shirt. Where were my shirts? They weren’t in the closet, nor my drawers. No shirts were there.

I went to find my wife. “Where are all my shirts?”

She was disinterested. “Did you look in your closet?”

“Yes. Here.” I took her to my closet and showed her. There was clothing but not my shirts.

She looked. “What am I looking at?”

“None of my shirts are in there.” I showed her my drawers. Clothing was in there but not my shirts. “Where are my shirts? Do you put them somewhere else?”

“What shirts do you mean?”

“Any shirt. Do you see any shirts? Where are my dress shirts? Where are my polo shirts? I don’t even have any tee shirts.”

“Why do you want one? What’s wrong with the shirt you have on?”

“I’m flying out. I need a new shirt for tomorrow.” I checked my watch; it was departure time.

I rushed back to the airport next door. The clock on the wall said 9:15. I thought, that can’t be right. If that’s right, the flight hasn’t left. Would they have left without me?

That’s where the dream ended.

I came away from it thinking, don’t get lost worrying about little details. Keep the important issues in mind.

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A Dream

Last night’s main feature on the dream stage was a lengthy one, like Boyhood length (two hours forty-five minutes). (So it felt in the dream.) Expressing several layers, I thought I’d touch on highlights.

I was traveling on a jet. I knew that because I was told at the beginning that we were leaving on a jet, but never saw the aircraft. It was big; I had a large suite with several bedrooms on it. That was at the end of a long hallway.

Toward the middle of the dream, a friend (B) visited from Alaska. She and I sat at a window drawing with pencils. When she finished, she handed me a detailed drawing of me. Her skill amazed me. “I drew this for you,” she said. After thanking her, I studied it a bit, then decided it could be improved. I commenced doing that in stages. I showed her and told her what I’d done. She answered, “It’s yours, so do what you want.” She went off to get a drink.

My cat, Rocky, drew my attention. As an explanatory note, Rocky passed away about sixteen years ago. He was the only survivor of a litter found in a hoarding situation when we lived in Germany.

Rocky was approaching a square hole in the carpeted floor. I worried about him, as a red creature had been spotted at that hole, threatening a child earlier in the dream.

Rocky went up to the hole and stopped. The red thing came out, as I’d feared. Rocky retreated. The thing went after him.

I jumped up to go help Rocky, but Rocky swatted the thing off a ledge, which knocked it out of the aircraft. “Smart kitty,” I said. He then went off exploring, and was looking over the edge, out of the aircraft. I told him to be careful.

Then I was busy with other things. One thing I noticed was that the suite door was open. I closed it. When I turned around, I saw Rocky disappear over the ledge. Rushing over, I called him. There was scratching at the door. I hurried over and opened it to Rocky. He strolled in, nonchalant as ever.

The dream continued. I’m leaping forward in it. The others, who were my wife’s family and traveling with us, had returned. Someone ordered a beer from room service. We were talking about what we were going to do that day. I had one of my old Blackberry phones. On a whim, I decided I wanted to call the voice mail from the past. I couldn’t remember the number but just told the phone, call voice mail. A woman started talking. Assuming it was voice mail, I pressed some buttons to stop that. The system asked me if I was certain I wanted to reset it. I pressed escape.

After starting over, I heard the same female voice talking. I put her on my speaker. Then I realized that it was a live call. I wasn’t certain if she was calling from the past or if I’d slipped into the past. She was telling me a conversation with one of our engineers. “We use BlackICE 2.2 to run our security. It’s just a basic installation. He thought we’d still be able to do it but we’d need a key to do it and needed to talk to you.”

BlackICE was a startup that I worked with around 2000. All of what she said aligned with my BlackICE role.

I told her, “No. It can’t be done. That was almost twenty years ago. BlackICE 2.2 would no longer work. It’s no longer a product, and the company has been bought by other companies. I’m afraid that you need to move on.”

The dream continued — it was long, believe me — but those on the highlights for me.

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Two Dreams

Thinking harder about two of the five dreams I remember from last night. Disclaimer: all were short dreams. Two seemed like brief skits. I didn’t appear to be in the third, but was an observer. Either that, or I was someone else. Not sure which. To the two.

I’m uncertain of their order, so I’ll go with the car dream first. My wife and I were in a car. It was a new Chevy Camaro. Blue with white stripes, it sparkled in the sunshine. It was a gorgeous car, and I was very proud of it. Although brand new, it looked more like the 1968 model than the current model.

We were driving down a wide, well-maintained asphalt road, going through countryside. The day was wonderful. No other traffic was met.

After stopping for gas, we resumed our journey, talking about what a wonderful day it was. I said, “And we can enjoy it more, because this is a convertible.”

So I retracted the top, and we went on through the sunshine.

Such a short and simple dream. Prompts me to think, it’s the simplest pleasures that are best.

The second dream found me traveling on business in southeast Asia. I was in a taxi, going to the airport to return home. Having time to kill, I stopped at some small place.

The taxi ride had been pleasant, with the driver and I chatting about everything and nothing. I was relaxed. When the cab left, though, I discovered that I didn’t have my phone. After thinking about it a moment, I realized that I’d left it in my briefcase, and I’d left the briefcase in the car.

Well, damn. I went into a shop, told the owner what’d happened, and asked him if he could help. He did, by figuring out what cab had brought me, and then calling him. After talking with the driver, he told me, “Bad news. He has your briefcase with your phone and airplane tickets, and he’ll bring them to him, but you must do him some favors, and take things with you.”

After a Q&A, I realized that I was being asked to smuggle. I rejected that. Instead, I’d buy a new phone, see what I could do about the tickets with the airline, and replace the briefcase. I was annoyed and disappointed, but not angry. I was also trying to understand who I could report this to.

I went around looking for a new phone to buy. Nothing satisfied me, either because of design, or cost. I returned to the original store. I’m not sure what drove me to do that, but when I entered, the owner said, “Good news. Come with me.”

I followed him to the back. There was my briefcase. I was surprised. He said, “The driver returned it. He decided that you would report him, and he’d lose business, so he dropped it off and apologized. I said that I’d give them to you. He hopes you won’t report him.”

I opened the briefcase. Everything was there. Taking my phone out, I said, “I guess I won’t report him.”

That’s where the dream ended.

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The Luggage & Shoes Dream

First, the dream was in two parts. I dreamed part one, awoke, returned to sleep and had part two.

Second, it again involved military. I understand more about myself, though, like I’m terrible at socializing. The military with its rank and structure gave me a niche where I was comfortable.

In both dream parts, I was in civilian clothes and traveling alone (which I often did in the mil and civilian life, because of my specialized roles).

Part one had me arriving at a hectic place lousy with Army personnel. They were arriving and staging. All of them were in uniform. Many had down time and were waiting to move on. It was all out doors, and it was a mess.

For my part, I’d arrived, found a place for my two bags, left them, and headed off to find food. Then I’d figure out where I was to next go.

Well, after eating (which happened off-dream, apparently), I went to use a can. All the cans were out of order, which pissed me off (no pun intended). I wandered for a while in search of working facilities. I did find and use a shower, and then eventually discovered a working but filthy latrine.

I’d wandered a long way and had lost orientation, with no idea where I’d left my bags. I began that search. After a bit, I went up on a hill.

A person who used to work with me waved to me from up there. She came down to chat. She was traveling on a separate mission. I told her that I’d lost my bags and had to go look for them. Bored, with time to kill, she volunteered to come and help.

We went down the hill to a sort of ad hoc intersection. While there, she spotted a piece of paper fluttering on the ground. It looked like a set of orders. Picking it up, she read my name off it. She realized that it said something about what’d happened with my bags. With her leading, we went to see a man. She gave him the paper, and he (complaining as he did) gave me one of my bags. I was thankful, but she had to go. That was okay, though, because suddenly I completely knew where I was and went right to my second bag.

Awakening at that point, I thought about it all. The dream setting’s chaos and messiness bothered me, as did the fact that I couldn’t remember and find my bags on my own. I went back to sleep.

I was back in the same place, but order had been established. With chairs set up, all the troops were sitting in order. I had my bags, and the toilets were working. I also had food. We’d been provided with box lunches on the long flight over. I’d not eaten mine, so I had two big sandwiches along with other things to eat in a clear plastic bag that I was carrying.

On arriving, my feet hurt, so I removed my shoes and set the to one side. I had a rental car so I was basically going to eat and use the facilities and then hit the road. As I walked around, though, I worried about my hair not being in reg (I was notorious for that back in the day). I found the barbershop but it was busy. A commander and his staff passed by me. After deciding that I couldn’t do anything about my hair, I decided to eat and leave.

First, I wanted my shoes. I knew where I’d left them but they weren’t there. Irritated, I started searching for them. I spotted them in the middle of a wide, beaten dirt road. As I went to get them, an army PFC (female) was crossing the road and kicked one of my shoes. I yelled at her for that; she gave me a dirty look. I then got my shoes (loafers, as I was still in civies), put them on, and went to a table, where I sat down to eat.

End dream.

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The Motorcycle Dream

I was riding a motorcycle on a highway that reminded me of California SF-SJ Bay Area Interstates.  I could’ve been riding where I-280 goes into SF and splits off toward SFO. It looked oddly like that.

Weirdly, I was on the motorcycle, but ‘I’ was some distance back from it, on my feet, guiding and directing it. It (me on the cycle) was getting further away from me, forcing me to change lanes and strain to see myself. When I did those things, my motion caused my motorcycle to shift and change lanes. I was coming up on a split and didn’t want to miss my turn.

Somehow,  I made it. I then stopped at a tee-intersection on some sort of shore. My wife (also on a motorcycle on one moment but then walking in jean and a shirt the next) joined me. As I spoke to her, asking her what she wanted to do, she crossed the street, heading toward the shore. I said, “I guess that’s what we’re doing,” and followed her.

Our neighbor was across the street. She briefly spoke with him. I didn’t, but went toward her as she walked away from him. Watching my neighbor, I thought he was being interviewed. My wife confirmed that when I asked her.

I heard my neighbor say, “I’m not from West Virginia, but when I heard they were going to the wishbone offense, I was sold.”

The dream sort of muddled apart after that, with a brief moment of my neighbor and I comparing motorcycle riding notes, and me mentioning how I was riding it from a distance.

Then it ended.

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The Stealing Dream

I was at an airport, awaiting a flight. Like it often happens (or its my experience), I’d had to rush, but now I had to wait. Restless, I shopped in a store. There I found a dark blue denim cap. Thinking, this is cool, I bought it.

Calls to board are heard through the noisy bedlam. I head that way but find that I’ve forgotten my hat, explaining to her that it’s new, that I just bought it. Amicably, she replies, you should go back and get it, then.

I head back and retrieve my new hat. As I’m leaving the store, I see another man. He has a package — it looks like a toy. Seeing him, I say, “Oh, no. I forgot to buy a gift. Now I don’t have time.” I think it’s for a young nephew, but I’m not sure.

The man replies with a grin and a wink, “Steal it, like I did.” He brazenly strides on.

Dubious, I think, well, okay, what’s the harm? I grab a package like his and leave the store. Guilt immediately swamps me. I want to return the package but I’m also running late for my flight. I can’t resist the urge to turn around and take the package back to the store. Putting it just inside the entry, I turn, put my new cap on, and run for my flight.

I can see my aircraft, a jet, outside the window. Deciding that I need to reach it, I squeeze myself through the glass, ending up between the white aircraft’s nose and the terminal. Wondering, what just happened, how did I get here, I know immediately, it’s because of everything that I’d just done.

The dream ends there, with me in a state of confusion.

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