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four part dream

June 26, 2012

This dream was from about a week ago, but I wrote it down so that I could relay it later on the blog. It had four parts.

First, there was anthropomorphic lightning that actively tried to electrocute us (not sure who the “us” was). Then tourists arrived on our deck (this time, the “our” is Courtney + Pete), and we had to explain why the lightning was attacking us. I can’t remember our reasons, but the tourists ate it up.

In the second leg of the dream, I am at the gym changing into a tennis skirt and a long sleeved shirt. I am not in the locker room, but rather out in the middle of the tennis court, while matches are being played. Tennis balls whizz by my head as I basically get naked and then re-dress. I remember the shirt was very tight–probably a compression shirt of some sort–and it made me feel extra powerful.

Third, I am sitting on a wooden swing with a friend. The swing is attached by some ropes to a very tall tree. Before us is a huge Olympic-sized swimming pool, with a VERY high diving board. As we watch, a man makes a graceful leap from the diving board into the pool, making only the smallest of splashes as he enters the water. I begin to tell my friend all the reasons I love watching the high dive, and ask her lots of questions about her favorite Olympic sports. I also start heading into “personal question” territory: what does she do in her free time? Where does she see herself in five years? Is it weird to be pregnant? You know, personal stuff. She finally ends my line of questioning by callously answering, “I think I’ve heard enough questions.” Snippy! We watch the high dive in silence after that.

And finally! Julia Berry was in my dream that night, and she wouldn’t let me throw anything away. We were going through my house, finding old magazines and clothes to either give or throw away, depending on the condition of the items. When I picked up a small stack of two-year-old magazines (National Geographic, mostly), she grabbed them from me, exclaiming that it was simply wrong to get rid of such useful objects. I promised I would recycle them, that they wouldn’t end up in a landfill somewhere. She opened one of the magazines and out fell a bunch of clippings. “You can’t recycle these because I’ve already started repurposing them for collage bow-ties in my shop,” she replied. I figured there wasn’t much I could do, but I was frustrated that I couldn’t just get rid of the magazines once and for all.

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