*** Dreamt June 23-24, 2007 ***
It was nearly the end of the spring semester at school and I was thinking about how grand it would be when summer was here. It was then that my old high school buddy and former bandmate Eli asked, "How's your spanish class coming?" Suddenly the horror of the situtation hit me. I forgot I'd signed up for 2nd year spanish! Not only had I not attended a single time this semester, but I also took it last semester and never attended then either!! How could I have forgotten?!?!
"I'm sure you can make it up," Eli consoled me, "it can't be that hard for you." Now Eli's a pretty darn good spanish speaker - he took it all though high school and when he got to Chile on his mission in his first area people were known to comment on how strange it was that he spoke better than his trainer...much to the chagrin of his companion - so him telling me that made me feel pretty good, 'cuz if he thought I spoke spanish well enough to still pass the course, I thought I probably was. I had to find Señor Mansfield (my spanish teacher, who in real life was my 9th grade spanish teacher) and explain to him the situtation...I have no idea what there really was to explain, I mean, I'd been absent from class for months with absolutely no excuse, nevertheless I was sure that he'd understand.
I ran down the halls of the university - which somehow as I ran turned into my Junior High School - and out the doors to the portable where Señor Mansfield class was held. I burst through the doors, gasping for breath, only to find no one there. It was such a disappointment, and the reality that I was going to have two F's on my permanent record overcame me. It was at about this point that I, quite gratefully, woke up.
***
Why is this such a common dream? Isn't it kindof bizarre that there is a such a thing as "common dreams" at all? I mean, dreams seem so random and yet there are many dreams (such as the Realizing-That-You-Forgot-To-Attend-A-Class-All-Semester dream) that seem to be experience by pretty much everybody from time to time.
Another super common one is that you're in public and find that you accidentally left the house without any clothes on. Why do we all have these dream? I really don't think that we have these fears.....not once have I ever been out in public and suddenly had the panicky thought, "Oh my gosh! Did I remember to put on clothes after I showered today?!?"
It's a strange phenomenon, but alas, I guess there's nothing we can do about it.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Monday, June 18, 2007
So You Think You Can Direct...
I'm a big believer that dreams are roughly comprised of 2% of our inner thoughts, fears, etc, and 98% random stuff influenced by what we've seen/heard/done lately. Before last night's dream, one should first know a few things: (A) I've recently been spending a lot of time working on movie for my family's annual summer film festival "GarlickDance", (B) a new reality show entitled "On The Lot" has recently begun in which a group of young filmmakers are vying for a movie deal with DreamWorks Studios....I watch regularly, and (C) two night's ago my brother came home with a poster book of stills from the movie "Labyrinth", which I looked through.
*** June 16-17, 2007 ***
I was in a filmmaking competition in which all of the contestants had been divided-up into two teams. As fortune would have it, my mom was also on my team, and my buddy Corey was on the other. In this challenge, we were playing a version of the classic TV show, "Supermarket Sweep." Our teams were to run through a grocery store, grabbing items and bringing them back to our team's bin, then at the end the winner would be the team who had the ingredients to make the most sandwiches.
When time ran out and we went back for the official ruling of which team had the most sandwich-making supplies, our team was shocked to see that most of our stuff that we'd grabbed wasn't there! In fact, we now only had 3 loaves of bread (compared to the dozens in our opponents' bin)! That's the worst thing to be short of, because you can't make sandwiches if you don't have bread! Of course, the accusations immediately began flying, and members of the other team were actually quite quick to confess that they'd hidden much of the sandwich loot that we'd found.
Right about then, a voice came over the store's intercom system announcing that David Bowie (rock singer and star of the movie "Labyrinth") was outside in his trailer and that he would be signing autographs and giving instructions for the competition's next event. Of course everyone bolted for the doors. I never did see David, however, because I woke up right about then.
***
By far my favorite part of this whole thing was that in a movie-making contest we had a task to see who could come up with the most sandwich-making supplies.
What a fun show that supermarket sweep was, though, wasn't it? Alright, it was actually a pretty hokey show, but I always wanted a chance to run through a store like that, madly grabbing stuff off the shelves and throwing it into my cart. I remember as a child some contest - I'm thinking it was put on by Kool-Aid - in which the grand prize was a 2 or 3 minute shopping spree in KB Toys. My brother and I actually drew maps of our local toy store and would plot what course we'd take and write down the top few items that we'd be sure to grab...Of course, it wasn't much of a course through the store, since it was basically just bee-lining it to the video game section and grabbing all that we could.
...Good times.
*** June 16-17, 2007 ***
I was in a filmmaking competition in which all of the contestants had been divided-up into two teams. As fortune would have it, my mom was also on my team, and my buddy Corey was on the other. In this challenge, we were playing a version of the classic TV show, "Supermarket Sweep." Our teams were to run through a grocery store, grabbing items and bringing them back to our team's bin, then at the end the winner would be the team who had the ingredients to make the most sandwiches.
When time ran out and we went back for the official ruling of which team had the most sandwich-making supplies, our team was shocked to see that most of our stuff that we'd grabbed wasn't there! In fact, we now only had 3 loaves of bread (compared to the dozens in our opponents' bin)! That's the worst thing to be short of, because you can't make sandwiches if you don't have bread! Of course, the accusations immediately began flying, and members of the other team were actually quite quick to confess that they'd hidden much of the sandwich loot that we'd found.
Right about then, a voice came over the store's intercom system announcing that David Bowie (rock singer and star of the movie "Labyrinth") was outside in his trailer and that he would be signing autographs and giving instructions for the competition's next event. Of course everyone bolted for the doors. I never did see David, however, because I woke up right about then.
***
By far my favorite part of this whole thing was that in a movie-making contest we had a task to see who could come up with the most sandwich-making supplies.
What a fun show that supermarket sweep was, though, wasn't it? Alright, it was actually a pretty hokey show, but I always wanted a chance to run through a store like that, madly grabbing stuff off the shelves and throwing it into my cart. I remember as a child some contest - I'm thinking it was put on by Kool-Aid - in which the grand prize was a 2 or 3 minute shopping spree in KB Toys. My brother and I actually drew maps of our local toy store and would plot what course we'd take and write down the top few items that we'd be sure to grab...Of course, it wasn't much of a course through the store, since it was basically just bee-lining it to the video game section and grabbing all that we could.
...Good times.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
A Disclaimer & A Dream
I'm not a blogger. I'm not! Now I know what you're saying, "But look! You're writing a blog! Therefore by definition you ARE a blogger." My response: "Next time I see you I'm gonna punch you in the neck!"
I tried once before to maintain a blog, and it failed miserably. Not only did no one have any interest in it at all so I was the only one reading it, but after about 3 days I, myself, lost interest and never wrote again.
I still have no interest in blogging, however, for quite some time I've had an interest in keeping a dream journal, but what fun are dreams if you don't share them (at least the non-inappropriate ones)? Well in the last few days several friends of mine have created blogs, and going on the assumption that since they're currently "into" the blog scene that if I link them to my blog they'll actually read it, I'm giving this whole blog-thing another try.
So without further ado, here's last night's dream:
* * * June 12-13, 2007 ***
I was at church with my parents in the building they used to attend, and there was a young man having an extremely difficult time blessing the sacrament. In his first attempt or two he mis-spoke just one or two words, but as he went on he got more and more flustered until he started just throwing in his own words and entirely new phrases. At one point I think his version of the sacrament prayer started out like so: "Our Heavenly Father, thank you for this day...".
At about this point a member of the bishopric went over to help him, but the young man was such a mess by now that he really was beyond help. Apparently thinking that the bishopric member was going to say the words of the prayer into his ear for him to then repeat, just as a young child gives a prayer with their parent supplying the words, his next attempt (unintentially with the bishopric member's help) was delivered straight into the microphone as, "Just the words on the card. No improvisation." At this, much of the congregation let out an audible (although unintentional, I think) laugh.
Finally, coming to the struggling youth's aid, a Polynesian man in his mid-twenties approached the front of the chapel and blessed it himself. Imagine my surprise, however, when I realized he was blessing it in ilonggo - the primarly language spoken in my mission! The problem was, that his polynesian accent was so thick that whether he was speaking English or Ilonggo, I could barely understand him. I DID, however, distinctly hear in his version of the sacrament prayer "Ikaw nga amo ang Dios ni Zarahemla", which would roughly translate to, "Thou who are the God of Zarahemla". Now I KNEW that this wasn't in the sacrament prayer, but when he was finished he just turned around and gave a thumbs-up to the bishopric, who of course don't speak Ilonggo, so they just presumed he must have said it right!! *sigh*
When the meeting was over I tried to find the Ilonggo-speaking Polynesian to ask how he knew how to speak the pure Adamic language that is Ilonggo. But I was having the hardest time at it! First of all, the building - although I had gone to it many times in my youth - had been completely remodeled, so I kept getting turned around. Then on top of that, there were a REMARKABLE number of Polynesian men in attendance that day, all about the same age & build as the Ilonggo-speaker. I finally tracked him down to one of the foyers, but he somehow snuck (it's a real word! http://www.m-w.com/dictionary/snuck) away into the building's cultural hall. Right after I realized he was gone, I overheard some of the people who'd been speaking with him say, "That was an amazing language! What was it called? Ilonggo?" "Ah ha!!", I thought, "It WAS ilonggo! Now I just need to find him again and ask how to learned it."
Well, once again, that task turned out to be easier said than done. I - as any sensible person would - entered the cultural hall to try to find him, only to discover that another ward was in there setting up some quite large decorations for some sort of graduation ceremony or dance or something. Also there was a photographer with a backdrop, lights, and a camera completely set up and a group of people, in quite formal attire, had formed a line leading up to him waiting to get their pictures taken. It was quite a bizarre scene in retrospect but, as is so often the case in dreams, nothing about it as the time struck me as being unusual. I left the cultural hall on the side opposite from which I had entered, however, I never saw what was on the outside because I woke up.
* * *
Definately not the most interesting dream ever, but that poor kid's sacramental prayer rapidly degenerating made me laugh out loud with the rest of the congregation.
I tried once before to maintain a blog, and it failed miserably. Not only did no one have any interest in it at all so I was the only one reading it, but after about 3 days I, myself, lost interest and never wrote again.
I still have no interest in blogging, however, for quite some time I've had an interest in keeping a dream journal, but what fun are dreams if you don't share them (at least the non-inappropriate ones)? Well in the last few days several friends of mine have created blogs, and going on the assumption that since they're currently "into" the blog scene that if I link them to my blog they'll actually read it, I'm giving this whole blog-thing another try.
So without further ado, here's last night's dream:
* * * June 12-13, 2007 ***
I was at church with my parents in the building they used to attend, and there was a young man having an extremely difficult time blessing the sacrament. In his first attempt or two he mis-spoke just one or two words, but as he went on he got more and more flustered until he started just throwing in his own words and entirely new phrases. At one point I think his version of the sacrament prayer started out like so: "Our Heavenly Father, thank you for this day...".
At about this point a member of the bishopric went over to help him, but the young man was such a mess by now that he really was beyond help. Apparently thinking that the bishopric member was going to say the words of the prayer into his ear for him to then repeat, just as a young child gives a prayer with their parent supplying the words, his next attempt (unintentially with the bishopric member's help) was delivered straight into the microphone as, "Just the words on the card. No improvisation." At this, much of the congregation let out an audible (although unintentional, I think) laugh.
Finally, coming to the struggling youth's aid, a Polynesian man in his mid-twenties approached the front of the chapel and blessed it himself. Imagine my surprise, however, when I realized he was blessing it in ilonggo - the primarly language spoken in my mission! The problem was, that his polynesian accent was so thick that whether he was speaking English or Ilonggo, I could barely understand him. I DID, however, distinctly hear in his version of the sacrament prayer "Ikaw nga amo ang Dios ni Zarahemla", which would roughly translate to, "Thou who are the God of Zarahemla". Now I KNEW that this wasn't in the sacrament prayer, but when he was finished he just turned around and gave a thumbs-up to the bishopric, who of course don't speak Ilonggo, so they just presumed he must have said it right!! *sigh*
When the meeting was over I tried to find the Ilonggo-speaking Polynesian to ask how he knew how to speak the pure Adamic language that is Ilonggo. But I was having the hardest time at it! First of all, the building - although I had gone to it many times in my youth - had been completely remodeled, so I kept getting turned around. Then on top of that, there were a REMARKABLE number of Polynesian men in attendance that day, all about the same age & build as the Ilonggo-speaker. I finally tracked him down to one of the foyers, but he somehow snuck (it's a real word! http://www.m-w.com/dictionary/snuck) away into the building's cultural hall. Right after I realized he was gone, I overheard some of the people who'd been speaking with him say, "That was an amazing language! What was it called? Ilonggo?" "Ah ha!!", I thought, "It WAS ilonggo! Now I just need to find him again and ask how to learned it."
Well, once again, that task turned out to be easier said than done. I - as any sensible person would - entered the cultural hall to try to find him, only to discover that another ward was in there setting up some quite large decorations for some sort of graduation ceremony or dance or something. Also there was a photographer with a backdrop, lights, and a camera completely set up and a group of people, in quite formal attire, had formed a line leading up to him waiting to get their pictures taken. It was quite a bizarre scene in retrospect but, as is so often the case in dreams, nothing about it as the time struck me as being unusual. I left the cultural hall on the side opposite from which I had entered, however, I never saw what was on the outside because I woke up.
* * *
Definately not the most interesting dream ever, but that poor kid's sacramental prayer rapidly degenerating made me laugh out loud with the rest of the congregation.
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