Recently, I had 2 dreams on 2 separate nights that aren't really a part of each other, but they had themes that made them seem like a 2-part dream. The first dream involves being at a strange airport, and the other dream involves flying to some Tiki-like country like Tahiti or even the state of Hawaii and vising what was supposed to be world's biggest indoor hotel swimming pool.
It seems that there are recurring themes in my dreams about types of places, such as amusement parks, offices, priate homes, airports, shopping malls (I guess that says something about our over-consumptive society) and, ah yes, bookstores. I've always loved bookstores and libraries, so it probably comes as no surprise that I'd be visiting bookstores in my dreams. Here's a recent dream that is kind of neat...
You know how dreams usually don't have real endings -- they just stop abruptly, in the middle of something, especially when you wake up? Last night, I had a dream that not only had an actual ending; it was a happy ending.
In this dream, my husband Steve and I were driving through a hilly area, and we stopped at a red light. Two teenage boys came out of nowhere and somehow managed to pull one of the front wheels from our car even with the engine running and us sitting in it. The boys ran away with the wheel, and we gave chase, leaving the car there at the intersection.
Sometimes, art exhibits take place in unusual places. For example, in real life, I once visited a small art show consisting of very small things, which was held in a rented hotel room (with the bed temporarily removed for space). Now, in this dream, an art exhibit was held in a very unusual location - a series of jetways set up in a park. Yep, these things that you walk through to board an airplane. I have no idea how the artist would have gotten a hold of jetways, let alone set them up in a long tunnel snaking throughout the park. (Are there places where you can guy used jetways the way you can guy used airplanes?) To visit the exhibit, you would climb one of the stairways by the supporting pillars up into the jetway and then exit by the same stairs or any other stairways along the way. I have no idea why the artist chose jetways -- maybe the theme of his show was transitions or something alofty like that. Unfortunately, I don't remember much of the dream or what kind of art was featured -- just these jetways, and people going up and down these stairs.
Last night, I had a dream where I was hanging out with a friend in her McMansion. I don't know the friend's name -- she was just someone conjured up by my twisted subconsciousness -- but let's call her Izzy. She had blck hair cut in the style of a 1920's flapper. We were sitting in a couch in this big-ass living room with a high vaulted ceiling, when we heard strange sounds coming from the kitchen.
We went into the kitchen and found Izzy's brother, a tall, slim man with black wavy hair, sitting at the table with a bag of Pepperidge Farm Milano cookies and a bag of cheese-flavored potato chips. He was taking aprt the cookies, putting bits of potato chips between them, and the putting them back together, creating cookie-potato chip sandwiches. I sampled one, and to be frank, it didn't taste very good.
In this dream, I was visiting a touristy Western-theme town (maybe the same town as this dream of singing cowboys). I was strolling by a bar and grill in a low wooden building, when i decided to take a shortcut through an alley between tthe bar and another building to a park located behind the buildings. This wooden sidewalk ran down the alley, and there was a long row of old-school multi-pane windows down the bar's side. As I walked down the wooden sidewal, I kept peeking into the windows. The first three looked into the bar's main room with a group of college girls sitting at a round table, playing a drinking game. The next window looked into a small manager's office. The rest of the windows opened into the kitchen at the back. One window was open and I could smell something good baking. The kitchen appeared to be empty. There was a table under the open window with a bunch of brown paper grocery bags on it. I peeked into the bags, which appeared to be filled with styrofoam boxes, paper and the like. I had no idea what the bags were for, but on an impulse, and since there weren't anyone in the kitchen, I decided to lean in and grab one of the bags. I ran off to the park with the bag, and once I was there, I peeked into the bag. It turns there wasn't any food in it except for a single dinner roll. Just empty boxes, paper plates and plastic silverware. So much for my career as a thief. :-)
