In Romeo and Juliet

It's Christmass Eve and I'm with my family. My brother and dad leave for Christmas Eve service, I wait to go with my mom who needs to get dinner in the oven first. I fall asleep and wake up in an hopur or two - I ask my mom what time it is, she repliers she's glad we missed the service.

I remember that I'm in a production of Romeo and Juliet that night. I ask my mom if she remembers what time it starts. She says she doesn't think it's till eight or nine. I have a small part in the play, but we haven't rehearsed in months and I don't know my lines. In this production, we wear regular street clothes and it's OK to read from the script, but I can't find my copy. I go to a Barnes and Noble to pick up a copy, feeling a little rushed.

At the store, I remember that I need three settings of silverware for my part, so I pick out some cutlery. I notice some really cool plants - some sort of low-light succulents that seem like they'd do well in my vivariums and I buy some of them too. By this time I know I'm going to be late fort the performance so I buy another Shakespeare play instead.

I arrive at the theater which is a theater in the round made4 iof stone. The cast is taking the curtain call. They walk through the audience towards me, nobody says anything about me not showing up although everybody is aware. The director says we can do a run at the theater.

Shopping

I'm shopping in a store with a childhood friend. I have an anatomically correct plastic stick figure toy in the cart and my friend is getting a lot of old porn mags. We come upon my mom who wants to buy our purchases for us. I don't want her to see what we're buying.

A few buildings down there's another store. In it, I find many old tiny romance books high on a deep, disregarded shelf. There are too many to carry at once, but I want to buy all of them for the woman I'm dating. I carry as many as I can hold back to the first store and return for more. I realize I walked out without paying and notice I'm wearing a yellow and blue vest that makes me look like a clerk. I wonder if I should just walk out with more books.

I come upon a friend who has been on some sort of hiking or hitchhiking journey and hasn't bathed in weeks. He's standing on a street corner among a large amount of rotting mushrooms.

Cat-sitting, Scarlet O'Hara extinguishes a fire

I'm cat-sitting for a friend. I'm plating a set of mini-CDs, each CD has one song on it and is packaged artistically, I'm finding it tedious to listen to an album this way. One of the singles has fallen behind a bookshelf - I tip over the bookshelf while trying to reach it.

Now, the spilled books are in the bathroom and the shelf is in the bedroom. A friend is helping me put everything back on the shelf. In the bedroom, I see a round piece of glass with a frog under it - it looks like one of my frogs. I lift up the glass and catch it.

I'm walking to my vivariums with the frog in my hand. I see another frog in front of me - it hops under a plant growing my a mailbox. I move a leaf to find my hand full of thistles. There's a group of old men sitting in lawn chairs around the mailbox - one says to me. "That's what he calls the old $2.01 treatment," motioning towards one of his companions standing by a red old fashioned gas pump that can't display a price per gallon greater that $0.99. The man doesn't speak English, but pantomimes to me that bark from a tree down the road will help me re3move the thistles.

The houses on the block have chasms instead of front yards - the front doors are reached by swinging bridges. When I near the tree, I see it's growing up out of the chasm with no way to reach the bark. Suddenly, the tree is gone - and so are the thistles in my hand.

My vivariums are lined up along the edge of a roof of a tall building. There are way too many frogs in the vivariums, especially some of them. I place the frog I caught into one of the less crowded vivs at the corner of the building. I get some frogs from an overpopulated viv to move to the less populated one on the end. When I return to the corner of the building, there's a small fire beyond the aquarium. Blue flames roll over the aquariums like rubbing alcohol is being burned off. I successfully blow out the fire, which I now notice was the bottom of a wooden flag pole burning.

Suddenly the dream shifts into a movie I'm watching. Scarlet O'Hara just blew out the fire and a male character from Gone with the Wind has just come upon her. They decide the best thing to do is throw the charred flagpole into the Mississippi, which runs to the side of the apartment building. They throw the flagpole over the ledge but it veers off course and lands on a cement basketball court below.

Inheriting a coffin which was a gift to Lyndon Johnson upon Geronimo's death

My frog vivariums are outside near a lake, but "outside" is also inside a bus being driven by a coworker. The only other two people on the bus are two preschoolers - they are messing with the tanks and letting the frogs out. I become furious with the bus driver - yelling at him for not watching what the kids were doing. Some adults get on the bus and also start opening the lids letting my frogs out, I'm beside myself with anger.

I'm walking along a path parallel to the shore of the lake. I come upon a coffin which I know my mom and dad own. It was a gift an organization gave President Lyndon Johnson when Geronimo died. There are many interesting old books around too. People are walking by and I'm showing off the coffin, explaining what it is. "My parents have a list of furniture that goes to me and my brother when they die or they have to give up the home. I've always said, I only want the round oak kitchen table but I'm taking this too." I point out Lyndon Johnson's signature on it and also a shipping receipt that values it at over $100,000. "And that was in 1967," I add.

My dad is fiddling with the coffin and peels off the sticker with Johnson's signature on it. I continue down the path with my dad asking him why he peeled the sticker off. It's warm out, but the lake is covered with ice. A group of wild dangerous animals is out on the ice. A tiger is running towards us - we flee. My dad is carrying me in a metal rickshaw for a while, but I get out, knowing he's elderly and it must be very hard to run the rickshaw.

The dream shifts back to me being angry about people letting frogs out of their tanks. I turn around to go find the person who was driving the bus, who I know is in a dorm beyond the place where the wild animals were.

I reach the dorm which has an open wall several stories high. I'm running up stairs to confront the driver of the bus. As I near the room I know he's in, I come across a co-worker I don't know well who has borrowed my camera without asking and broken it. I'm suddenly confused in my feelings, wondering why I'm not angry at the person who broke my camera but furious with the person who let the children let my frogs escape.

Riding my mom home from the hospital on the handles of my bicycle

I'm looking at my frog vivariums. There are a lot of other animals in there - a ball python I owned in college, baby birds, large and small insects. I realize I must have forgotten I owned the snake for decades and it must be very hungry. I go out to buy it some mice to eat.

The pet store doesn't have any mice. They have a lot of mushrooms to put into tanks but not much else. They are brightly colored and stacked symmetrically. I think about getting some bird seed for the baby birds, but the store doesn't have that either. I return home to find my mom lying on the kitchen table. She has a notebook over her face with large indecipherable letters on the cover. She says she's sick - I see sweat beading on her throat and feel she has a fever. I say we need to go to the emergency room.

At the hospital, there is a doctor assigned to us, but he stays behind a fast-food like counter. He is preoccupied with paperwork and other tasks as he says my mom's symptoms are too general for him to do anything. I'm angered and unsuccessfully suggest he could at least prescribe something to make her feel better.

We return home, my mom riding on the handles of my bicycle.

I'm going through a box of my old papers and find a folder I don't recognize. It has color photo copies of me in my football uniform and has many official looking certificates in it, with many signatures. It seems to be an honorary or gifted membership in an elite club. Many famous people are listed including President Reagan and retired governors. It seems to be a membership packet to some sort of beer tasting salon. It's dated two years after my high school graduation, but I just don't remember it at all. I show it to my dad, asking him if he knows what it is. He indicates he does, but doesn't tell me in detail, just says he knows who the people who signed the certificates are. I'm frustrated he won't explain the packet to me.

Painting the spine of a book, evaluating ties

I'm engaged in a personal project - I'm painting the spine of an old hardcover book in thick white paint. My parents interrupt wanting me asking me to match ties with a shirt. I'm irritated and tell them I only have one tie I really like. They hold up ties to shirts to me as I'm frustrated my project is getting screwed up: the paint isn't nearly as smoothly applied.

I'm surprised I have so many ties and see one or two I've forgotten about that I generally like and go rather well with the shirt.

When I'm through being shown the ties, I return to my project which has now been building a sculpture out of an odd jello-like material that hardens quickly. Gravity has changed my mathematically symmetrical sculpture of a single pyramid with a crevice at the top into what looks like a ring of volcanic islands. I like it better.

Redheads and a blue poodle

I'm in a mall looking for materials to promote a concert with two other people, I'm not sure if I'm making a flier, press kit or what, I just know that we can't think of the name of one of the bands. We're in a store that sells paper and CDs and I'm trying to describe the artist to an attractive red headed clerk. I tell her it one guy with red hair from a band and this is his solo project with a two part name something like "Nova Mob" or "Supernova."

Everybody is sitting down outside of the store and I'm flirting with the cuter clerk, giving her paper jewelry I take out of a small book where each page is a doily, paper doll, paper jewelry. I remember we walked a long way to the northwest to get to the mall and forget just how far. I'm asking people if we're still in the Minneapolis area, hoping we are so I can see this girl again. Nobody will tell me where we are.

Another clerk joins us and I explain again the artist we're trying to think of and she thinks of it right away. She checks for an finds his CD. But us know what do do with the information as nobody is sure exactly what task we're trying to complete. We leave the mall and walk towards the concert venue.

On the way, we are joined by one a the performers, another redhead I find attractive. I know nothing about her or her band and she describes it to me as we walk. "It's very large, many members." She seems to like me. I ask her how far outside of Minneapolis we are. "That's way to the southwest," she tells me as she reveals we're in Portland.

Our group takes a shortcut through a yard and I'm fascinated by a blue poodle scampering around underwater in a small landscaped pond. There is also a gigantic dog laying under water. I reach my hand into the water and the blue poodle tries to come meet me, but the giant dog holds it back. The owner of the house gets in the water between the poodle and me.

I catch up with my group just as we arrive at the venue - an outdoor baseball stadium that's also an amphitheater. The crowd is all on a hill just beyond the very shallow outfield - so shallow the outfielders are among the crowd. There are signs people in the crowd have put up which someone tells me are racist symbols. One of them is an underlined 4 in a circle. I decide I'll go up and take them down before my part of the show.

I'm beyond the outfield and crowd, two balls are hit right towards me. I ha ve to jump over each to avoid interfering with the play.

A photo album of cats and a monkey carrying bag

I need a gift for a recent girlfriend. Among things I've not looked at for a long time is a photo album open to the first page. I decide this will be a good gift. There are black and white pictures of cats including what I think was my only cat, but it's not because it's an all black cat. I try to remember the cats in the pictures because I know the album is of pictures I've taken of my own pets.

Pictures of cats in front of parallel mirrors reflecting off into infinity are on the next page. As I turn the page, the angle between the mirrors changes. I'm really impressed with the photos and am surprised I still want to give it as a gift. On the next page is a picture, still black and white, of a pet monkey in a childhood bedroom. I';m trying to remember if I ever had a pet monkey, but can't remember any of the animals in the pictures. When I look at the picture from a different ankle, I see a monkey shaped monkey carrying bag hanging on the wall over my bed.

I'm a Chinese soldier with burning skin

I'm aware through news reports that Chinese soldiers have been catching on fire. The dream shifts into a narrative of what was happening.

I'm a a Chinese soldier in the lower half of a bunk bed in the barracks. We are at war with the Canadians and I'm trying not to worry that I'll be a victim of a Canadian attack that's been causing soldiers to catch on fire. I think some sort of powder has been thrown on the parts of my limbs sticking out from under the covers. There is a commotion outside, people running, a single gunshot. I wake the soldier next to me and we get out of bed. Cinders fly through the air close by, I try to avoid them thinking the powder on my limbs may be some kind of Greek fire. I'm touched by some of the sparks and my skin starts to burn and smoke, but I'm able to put out the flames with a blanket. It's still smoldering though.

We escape from the barracks and are in the home of white people. A sympathetic woman takes me into the shower with her to try to completely put out the fire on my limbs. I'm not sure if it's working or not, but I have to quickly escape because enemy rednecks are pulling up into the front yard. The soldier I woke up and I run out the back through more showers of sparks and jump into a river. We climb onto a large wooden raft and float down the canal.

The narrative jumps several days into the future and we're still on the raft. We're hungry and I'm fishing. I catch a fish and as I'm bringing it in, a boat approaches. We hail down the boat for help. The occupants think we're Islamic terrorists and I can't communicate that we're actually Chinese because I don't speak English. There seems to be some disagreement as to what to do with us, one man wants to set me on fire, one woman is unsure. There are several books on a table and I try to indicate I'm Chinese by reading one written in Chinese. The woman understands and explains the situation to the man, but just as that crisis is resolved another of an vague nature arises and we have to jump into the water and escape.

I have the idea that we have to swim out of Canada to America through a canal system. As we cross into the U.S., we get out of the canal and start walking up a rural two lane highway. A vehicle approaches and again, we can't communicate the situation because we don't speak English.

Transforming into an aliens so we can be rescued from Earth

I'm at a resort with a dozen or more people who are friends in the dream. The setting moon looks exactly like an Elmer Fudd face and I rush to take a picture, but it doesn't look as good by the time I get outside. I watch as parts of the moon fall away and rush off into space. Everyone gathers on the porch to watch. An alien approaches and sprays everyone with foam from a fire hose. I ask him what he's doing. "When you die on Earth your body decomposes, but we're not leaving it here."

Nobody is alarmed by any of this, it seems quite normal.

The alien explains they're are evacuating Earth and to do so they have to turn everyone into aliens first. A woman who is an impostor alien trying to foil the rescue effort rapidly pumps herself up with a bicycle pump through her anus, but the alien wraps her in a plastic bag before she explodes, containing the attack.

As we're turning into aliens, we slide down a thin chute past underground machinery aliens have had running for years. Our faces look like Devo in Jocko Homo - the video where they have pantyhose over their faces and goggles.

We are in an orientation room, Bill Gates is playing chess with pairs of everyone at once, he just draws spaces on a whiteboard and remembers what pieces are where. I'm not very interested but my partner in playing him is very enthusiastic. I'm unsure whether Gates has always been an alien or not.

Everyone from the group gets on unstained wooden bicycles that fly. I pick the only one that fits more than one person - it fits three people - but only one other joins me. Flying off and merging onto a highway, we encounter another group of aliens flying the wrong way. We stop to explain the custom of driving on the right side of the road. We encounter several other groups of humans transformed into aliens. Each group of transformed humans is in the style of alien invaders from different book or movie. Most look like some sort of Teletubby, all uniform in color.

Everybody is following along with events as they happen in a book and two people in our group have earlier editions of the book where different races of aliens were used. Confused, they had stopped reading and just went along with what was happening.

It's explained that a certain type of insect spray is irritating to our new bodies, but it's actually good for us and a little bit is put in everything we consume. A few sprays are put in the air so we can feel its slightly irritating effects. As an example of how it's actually beneficial, the alien sprays a great deal on a man/alien with a plaster cast on his leg. The swollen leg begins to heal before our eyes, but then his body begins to decompose and all that's left is his skeleton. A human woman who has not been transformed is being prepared for decapitation with a sword execution style so the aliens can merge her with the man who just decomposed. They will be both people in the same body. The woman either doesn't seem to mind or doesn't really believe she'll be beheaded, but she is. He head flips around and lands perfectly back in place on her body.

Working with a computer book containing tee shirts and pin-ups

I'm at work, but my desk and all my coworkers' desks are at checkout lanes in a gigantic grocery store. My computer is an over-sized book with some pop-up like levers and strings on some pages. Something isn't working about my "computers" - I have two - one that just I just and one that's shared. I'm using my personal computer and turn to a page near the middle nobody has ever looked at. There are tubes with tee shirts in them and a wedding book filled with pictures of 50's pin-ups and sexy magazine ads. Everybody thinks this page is very strange.

I am moving and getting rid of extra stuff. I have three air conditioners I've brought to a childhood friend's home - I tell his parents I only need one but don't ask for money until I convince them to take the other two. There is a carton of menthol cigarettes on a table, torn in half lengthwise - most of the tobacco is in a pile around the carton. My friend's dad tells me, "These are the only menthol cigarettes I've ever smoked." I put some of the old, dry tobacco in my mouth. It's very unpleasant.

I have two cars and am selling one. I think about all the money I'll be saving.

I am on the Olympic swim team. I've never met the coach and need to find him to tell him my best stroke is the backstroke and if he puts me in the 100 or 200 meter, I'll win. I'm on a kind of island in the pool with my digital camera I've brought to have someone take a picture of me swimming. I can't think of a way to get off the island without getting the camera wet, but I fall into the pool yet successfully toss the camera on a table beside the pool.

I am preparing for the race, but instead of swimming I will be performing - reading and singing and telling jokes. It's unclear whether this is expected or is a stunt I'm pulling. I have a large book I will be using and it's falling apart. Different parts of my performance are coming from different books I've torn apart and reassembled - I can't find all the sections. A girl is helping me, she's my assistant. We're looking through a library for the missing parts of my book. I find Ecclesiastes 3 which is part of my performance. I hope it comes off as irreverent and some people are offended.

My assistant's purse is sitting unattended. I can hear Ken Nordine talking from her cell phone inside the purse. I take it out and he tells me, "You know McCain's never going to leave government." I think this is brilliant - McCain complains about big government and Washington insiders - if he were sincere he'd simply leave Washington. I thank Nordine and tell him that will be my opening line.

My elementary school is now my office building

I am outside my elementary school. Several floors have been added to it. Inside, it's my office building. I water a dying plant on a coworker's desk.

My friend's old girlfriend is with me and we want to get breakfast. We have to climb up a railing that has no stairs by it. At the top is a book drop-off/mail chute type opening labeled "FACEBOOK". My friend tells me to go through and I tell her it's too small for me to fit through - which it is. We climb back down the railing and are on the corner of 31st and Hennepin. We kiss.

Sumo dancers, spiraling Indian ghosts

I am in the Ohio garage. I become mixed up as to which wall I'm facing and believe a door has disappeared, but my mom and dad point out that it is on the other wall. Everything in the dream is in the style of the 1940s and 50s. I find book I'm fascinated with, it is an early work of an author who later became famous. This edition has footnotes constituting of text in the draft the author gave his editor.

I'm cooking a steak in the garage on an electric griddle. There's lots of smoke but the steak is not cooking. My mom calls me for dinner. At the table, my dad bites head off a live mouse, with blood on his lips he says, "That's what we used to call 'the head ender'." He saves the rest of the mouse to have one bite at each meal. My brother vomits.

My parents drive me to some sort of camp. On the way, we circle around a house. A narrator says this is where Dennis from the Shrimper record label lives. Hundreds of large electrical cables exit the house in all directions.

As we drive by a country field, I watch a traditional dance where a line of men roll a drum across their bodies. The last three men in the line are sumo wrestlers.

When I check into the camp, I'm told I "can't leave the cabin at night but whatever you bring into the cabin has to stay all night."

A thirsty boy by a toilet in middle of room asks if this is where we get water. There is a pump handle on the toilet, pumping it brings water up out of toilet. The water is dirty green then clear, mostly. The boy takes a drink, I can't tell if he likes it or not.

There is hole in floor with many white tubes leading down into it. Thinking it may be a gravity driven pump system, I lift one white tube coming through window to try to start water flowing. It doesn't work. I look up and notice whte tube doesn't go out the window, but hangs on a on a hook by it. There is a shattered porcelan pump by the hole.

It's a photography camp. I look out the window and see stream of Native American souls/ghosts spiraling into the air. I assume it was created as a subject for a photo.