A watch, fire, flood, boat crash, party and decapitation

I'm in the North Carolina house, on vacation from my current job in Minnesota. I'm admiring a watch my dad had given me some time ago. I realize I've never wound it up and there's no battery nor a way to wind it, although there's a ring around the face that rotates. I tell my parents it doesn't have a battery, but they don't believe me. They are leaving for an evening church service and I wonder if it's Christmas Eve but look at my watch and see it's still two days away.

I'm still admiring my watch after they leave, while I'm tinkering with it, the crystal face breaks and a liquid leaks out and catches fire on Christmas decorations. I frantically but successfully put all the flames out. As I'm ensuring I didn't miss any flames, the front door opens and a torrent of water rushes into the house which rapidly floods. I run to the kitchen and am suddenly on the roof trying to unclog drains to stop the house from flooding.

All of a sudden it's dark throughout the house and the flooding hasn't happened. I'm looking for lights to turn on and a broom and dustbin to clean up the ashes from the fire. I can't find light switches. I'm looking in the garage and pick up a bicycle wheel and roll it down a flight of stairs. It rockets back up as if someone has thrown it. I'm terrified and find the button to open the garage door. As I run out, I see that the stairs have been sealed off half-way down by a wall of newspaper.

There is a red convertible parked in the driveway. I approach it to tell them to leave and find five rednecks in it. I decide to be suave and reason with them. I bum a cigarette. One of them asks me if I have any [garbled word]. I ask him to repeat and he repeats the word, which I hear but don't know what it means. Seeing I still don't understand, he says, "I'm asking you if you want any speed." I tell him I don't like speed. Headlights approach and I tell them it's my parents and they'll call the cops. The rednecks peel out of the driveway.

It wasn't my parents. I walk back towards the garage, the door is now closed. A vehicle comes barreling down the driveway and crashes into the garage door. I run to help the occupants of the vehicle which is a blue fiberglass sailboat with wheels. I try to yell at people on the street for help. At first I can't yell, but eventually cry out for someone with a cellphone. A woman emerges from the wreck, dazed but apparently unhurt. She has a toddler with her. She sits down on lawn furniture and I ask her what happened. She says they were rolling down the hill and lost control.

I'm back in the house. There's a lot of people I don't know having a party all throughout the house. They are giving brief political opinions which are met with cheers and jeers. A man says the most important Amendment to the Constitution is the 12th and when asked, he explains the 10th. He reaches under our kitchen table and asks rhetorically, "What do you think about my illegal gun?"

He aims the over-sized machine gun at people behind me and opens fire. A old professor type man on the other side of the house fires a bazooka at the man. When the smoke clears, I see that the barrel of the first man's weapon has bent in a U back towards his face. He knows it's going to fire and there's a look of shock on his face. The gun fires and the spray of bullets neatly decapitates him.

Listening to my iPod

I'm listening to my iPod. The song has two lead synthesizer melodies alternately intertwining and and uncoupling in rhythm and melody, a breathy sine wave in the left ear and a sharp square wave in the right. The connection between the headphones and iPod is poor for the right channel, I'm trying to plug it in well. Instead of crackling, becoming silent or quieter, the lead synth line in the right channel descends in a portamento each time the connection is lost.

Poor grocery store, on top of a pile of mostly cabbage

I've recently moved back to Cleveland to go back to school. My mom has a job at a grocery store, I'm there buying for for the week. At first, I only see processed and frozen foods, but discover a huge room of fresh produce near the back of the store. I can't find much stuff I want, there's a lot of cabbage everywhere. All the produce is placed directly on the cement floor. I pick up some apples, but they have soft mushy spots on them. I pick up some fresh baked bread but it crumbles in my hands as I try to put it in a plastic bag.

I explore the store more and find maze like hallways of what appear to be abandoned windowless offices. I have to step over where someone has peed on the wall. I can't find my way back into the store, so turn the other way, thinking I'll eventually exit the building and be able to reenter the store through the parking lot.

I emerge in an overgrown field. I'm on some sort of sleigh or wagon as I make my way towards the parking lot. I have to climb a huge pile of produce - mostly cabbage - to get down from the field, which is higher than the lot. The produce is laid out symmetrically and I knock over prism-shaped piles of peanuts and hope no one minds. I pause at the top and look out over a girls softball game being played below. A batter hits an easily fieldable ball, so poor, she doesn't even try tom make it to first base, but the first base player and pitcher fumble it around and although they do tag the base the umpire says the ball is still in play. The crowd groans at this awful call and I yell out "ASSHOLE!" Everyone laughs.

I make it back into the store, knowing by now I'm going to be late for class. I quickly find something to eat and wonder how much of a discount I'll get because my mom works there, but I'm told at the checkout that she's gone home for the day and they have no idea who I am.

Gathering frogs

My frog tanks are outside, I haven't tended to them in a long time. There are many frogs outside the tanks, both kinds I keep and kinds I'm unfamiliar with. I'm gathering all of them into tanks, unsure if I'm gathering up my frogs which have escaped, or new frogs.

Stove

All my burners on the stove are removed, I'm having a difficult time putting a burner back in so I can light a cigarette off it.

Gall bladder surgery

I'm driving out of a hospital parking ramp with my parents. I drop them off and take another way back to the hospital.

I'm being prepared for surgery - I'm getting my gall bladder taken out. I'm anxious and afraid. In an attempt to calm myself I repeat to the surgeon the reason for the surgery, "There are risks with the surgery, but the risk of leaving my gall bladder in are greater." The surgeon relies that they're taking it out because I told them I really wanted it out.

Odd overalls, projected into the future

I'm in Washington DC on vacation. In the dream, most of my high school friends live there and I'm staying with one of them. She measures me for clothes she intends to make me as a gift.

I leave her apartment for some reason and have to go up and down a series of confusing stairs to get to the door. I try to call my parents to tell them where I'm staying, but my cell is broken and waterlogged and falling apart. When I return, I can't figure out how to get back to her apartment through the maze of stairs so I climb a tree outside, bend a branch back and let it catapult me through an open window. There is a party going on. A childhood friend is playing piano for everyone and as part of the song, he hypnotizes me and has me do things I don't remember when the song is done.

My friend has made me over-sized overalls where the legs of the pants are only about six inches long, the crotch six inches above my ankles. She's made one for herself too and she puts it on. When I put mine on, the legs are normal length, it's just a very over-sized pair of overalls. She is disappointed in her work.

I'm wandering through the city alone. As I walk through distinct neighborhoods, I become disoriented, day turns to night and back and the seasons change.

I realize if I say my name in a certain way, I can somewhat control the rate at which I'm being propelled into the future.

I enter a basement bar with mostly Hispanic customers and a traditional Mexican band. The band finishes and I am to play next. I'm restringing a grotesquely large four stringed guitar, unsure what order the strings are supposed to go in. Some sort of altercation breaks out, some customers or maybe the last band is trying to incite violence with me. I whirl the unusually long guitar string around me like a jumping rope forming a protective field. I say my name in a special way which phones 9-1-1 into the past.