In which my expectations are inverted

I was part of a space ship crew, but we were in a ye olde western whorehouse (please to note I watched the Firefly DVDs for the first time a few weeks ago). The place was also kind of like a slave auction. The guy who was running it was having a special: "Buy 6 whores, get the 7th one free." The captain of my ship wanted me to pick out 7 ladies, but then the head whore told me they wouldn't to want to go with me, and it seemed they had choice in the matter so I was going to have to convince them. There was some undercurrent of something going on between the madame and the pimp but I didn't understand what it was. I thought we were probably being scammed though.

The next thing I know, I run into this girl L that I went to high school with. She lived in the ye olde town, but then it turned out that all the ye olde-ness was government imposed and that there was a period of time, after the original ye olde times, when everything was industrialized and "modern" but not modern like shiny slick spacecrafty. Everything in that time was referred to by numbers instead of names, like all the streets and everything, and that is what everyone was nostalgic for. People resented the forced structure of towns with names, and wood buildings, etc. They wanted their steel walls and cinderblocks, so they built a whole secret underground city that was like that, and everyone loved it and would pretend to go home to their houses every night but really they would go to the city and back to something like the life they had before.

L took me there... I remember we were walking to her car in a parking lot that looked like a normal parking lot and she was saying the number-names of streets in this giddy whisper because she was so happy that that was real and the town above was the fake, but then others were shushing her in case government agents overheard. We went underground and it was crazy. It was not at all hyper-sterile... there was rust and water but everything was made of metal, sort of like a subway station and so many people streaming thourgh the streets, going to clubs, going home.

I ran into my friend T from childhood, who grew up around the corner from me. She was carrying her infant son in her arms and I told her I only remembered ever living in the house in our neighborhood, and I didn't know that was fake. She told me we lived in a city like this but above ground and that they (the government) brainwashed me into remembering single family houses and yard and streets wth word names.

In which M & I audition for American Idol

M and I were in a large room with a lot of other people, waiting to audition for American Idol. Black, industrial-looking double-doors opened into the audition room and we were supposed to line up outside the doors in the order we would be called in to sing. To line up we had to sit on a long, undulating, modern-looking black leather couch in the middle of the room. When M and I first arrived, there were already a lot of people lined up and there was no room on the couch, so we sat on the floor against the wall. M wasn't nervous at all, although neither of us expected to be particularly successful. We talked about why we had decided to audition, but couldn't really come up with a reason.

Eventually we moved to the couch and then I realized that M had already been called in and there was only one more person ahead of me, but I still had no idea what I would sing. I began to feel really nervous. I wracked my brain for a song that at least I knew all of the words to, since I didn't really hope to sound good. I settled on "Don't Stop Believin'" and felt a little more relaxed because I knew that I would have fun with it, even if I couldn't hit the notes.

They called me in and the audition room was bigger than the waiting room. There was a wall to the right, and the judges table was right in front of it, and then to the left, the opposite was had long horizontal windows near the ceiling. When I walked in, Randy and Paula were sitting at the table and Simon was fiddling with the windows. I knew I was the last audition before the lunch break. Simon didn't even sit down to hear me sing. Randy asked me to go for it, and I did, and even I could hear that I sounded pretty terrible. When I finished, Randy kind of smiled indulgently and asked if I had it out of my system now (meaning trying to get on the show, I think). I laughed and said that I did, and he said good because he was starving and wanted lunch. Simon complimented me on my outfit and told me I seemed like a really nice girl, which actually felt pretty good. I left the audition room and went to find M. It turned out they really liked her singing, but not enough to move her to the next round. We both agreed Simon was kind of hot.

In which I foil some thieves, sort of

I was walking down the middle of the street in front of my apartment in my bathrobe. I realized I should get dressed, but I was afraid my car was being stolen at the end of the street and I didn't want to give the thieves time to get away. When I got to my car, there were people trying to steal it. I wasn't scared of them. I told them I was going to call the cops and they said that the car belonged to them. I knew it was bullshit and said I had papers in the house that proved the car was mine. We started walking back toward my apartment and I realized that it was really stupid of me to invite a bunch of random criminals into my house. I knocked on the neighbors door and she let me in and as I walked in I whispered that the men were criminals and couldn't come in. So she said she didn't let men into her house that she didn't know because she has a daughter, but I was afraid the guys didn't believe her. I was scared they would break into my apartment so I left again and went in the back door. There was no one there but S, in the kitchen, and he told me he had already called the cops.

In which the cats got it on

Toby was sleeping on the couch, and I sat down next to her. She stretched out and I saw that she was nursing a litter of kittens. I was totally befuddled by this, since she had been spayed years ago. Then S told me that Mia was actually a boy and neither cat had been fixed, which is why we had kittens. We decided that we would auction the kittens off once they were weaned and use the money to get the cats fixed (for some reason, spaying the cats was going to be hugely expensive and we expected to get a lot of money for the litter). The kittens were already big enough to run around and they were ridiculously cute. I kind of wanted to keep them, except that I didn't want so many cats in the house. They were all orange, even though neither Mia nor Toby is orange.

In which I go to a party and meet Jim from 'The Office'

I was at a party in Athens with my friends M and J. They were going to meet up with our other pal B and I was stressed about it because B and I aren't speaking. The next thing I knew, B and I were walking down the street together, going to the gas station for more cigarettes. We were laughing and talking and decided to put on different masks (the party was now a masquerade party) so no one would recognize us when we got back. We were walking through narrow alleys with cobblestone streets back toward the party (don't remember if we ever got the cigarettes) and then I remembered that B and I had never talked about anything and that we couldn't hang out yet. I told her I had to leave and she offered to take my mask so that no one would know I wasn't there, but I told her just to tell everyone to call me when they were ready to go.

Then it turned out that one of my best friends from college, T, had been with us the whole time and the two of us decided to back to the party, which was now at our old house on Larry Lane. The front yard was really big and there were Christmas lights strung up along the edges. When we walked up, there was a group of people standing in the driveway that included B #1 & #2, and Jim from The Office. Jim told me that he liked my shirt and was very flirtatious, and I felt flustered but flattered. We walked around the side of the house to the back patio and he kind of stood against me and I felt really warm and happy about it. He told me that he was going to try to play for the Cardinals next year.

In which I'm like those twins from Thundercats

I was walking down a city street, maybe in New York? There were a lot of people on the sidewalk, and whenever it was time to cross a street, you had to step onto a little metal platform, like those things they put across potholes here in Atlanta. It would float several people across the street at a time when the light changed, because for some reason you couldn't just walk across the street. I was standing in a big bunch of people, waiting to get on a platform thing, and the guy standing next to me told me that if I fell off, I would be electrocuted, like if you fall into the subway tunnel. He said the best thing to do was to be in the middle.

I got on the platform and tried to get in the middle, but got pushed toward the edge. At first I was scared but then all the other people disappeared and it was just me on the platform. It didn't just move across the street anymore - it turned into a little surfboard/hovercraft/flying carpet thing that I could fly all around the city. I could fly up the sides of buildings and all over the place and it was amazing. I flew over Central Park (it was definitely NYC at this point) and tried to do a loop in the air, but I fell off the air surfer and plummeted towards the ground.

In which my boss makes a nonsensical decision

I was at work, and we were having a meeting in the kitchen. Dr M announced that we were going to start conducting all of our correspondence with clients in French. He made each of us take an oral French aptitude test and even though I don't know the language, I was able to muddle through based on the Spanish I knew and scored the highest out of everyone. Later I expressed my concern to MM that no one would really be able to conduct business in French, but she said it was the language of diplomacy and that we would pick it up.

In which I see some pretty fish

I was standing in a stream in the woods, and little fish were swimming all around my feet. I knew it was fresh water, but the fish were bright blue and yellow and purple, like tropical fish. I wished I had a net so I could catch them, but then I was also happy that they were free.

In which I have a hole in my foot

I was looking at my left heel. There was a crack in it, as though the skin were really dry. I picked at it and it split open to reveal a deep crevasse going about half an inch into my flesh, nearly an inch long. The sides were smooth and didn't bleed, and when I looked into it I could see a flat bottom surface underneath with two puncture wounds. It was extremely gross. My parents (who were married) were out of town but they came home shortly. I made my dad look at it and he said he didn't think there was anything to do except wrap it and hope it heals back together. My mom looked at it and said she though it was a side effect of the medication I took when I had a cold. She took me to the doctor and he told me that he could give me several different creams that would fix it. He asked me about the meds I was taking when I was sick, and I said it was bascially just NyQuil and Advil. He kept asking me about it and I felt like I had done something wrong, like I had broken my foot by taking too many cold remedies.

In which high school, college, and elementary school collide

I was standing in the courtyard of the Upper School building at Woodward, and a lot of different people from my high school class were also there, but we were all adults. I realized that I had to take my senior year over again, but this time I would be taking graduate-level classes. I also realized that I was late for homeroom and I didn't have a note, but the Dean's office couldn't do anything to me because I was no longer a minor. An announcement over the loud speaker directed everyone to the pavilion in front of the Upper School where the cigar statue of Woodruff stood.

The juniors were TA's and they began handing out schedules to everyone. I had to take neuroscience, a history class about the American Civil War, and photography. I immediately began to worry about photography because I didn't have a camera with me and I had had very little formal instruction, so I didn't feel qualified to take a master's level class. They dismissed us and I headed toward the history building with a girl named O (with whom I actually took quite a few history classes in high school). The outside looked like the Woodward building, but the inside looked like Seelye Hall at Smith and I instantly felt more comfortable. The stairs were gentle and easy to climb and I remember thinking "This is like Smith" and it was kind of weird because it both was and wasn't Seelye Hall at that point.

We went to the top floor to the room where I hung the "Wilson is the Best of the Quad" banner and there was some kind of science fair going on. It was really hot and all the windows were open. The professor told us our assignment was to help high school kids with their science projects, and this was definitely Smith now and not Woodward. My student was doing a project on the small pox epidemic, as was really popular in the social science fairs when I was young, and she had a really realistic looking mannequin covered with pustules, which was gross but awesome. She told me she felt pretty good about winning but wanted me to scope out the competition, so I looked around. I found one girl who had the exact same project that I did when I was in 5th grade, "Why aren't there more women leaders?" with the red and blue graphs and everything, and I thought that it would probably go over really well at Smith. But then, when I was a kid, I lost (or rather, was disqualified from semifinals) because I didn't have a 3-D representation for my project, and neither did this girl. I felt kind of bad for her but then I was also happy for my student because she really wanted to win.

In which my mom has mad sewing skills

This is the first dream I ever remember having, although it felt so real that for a long time, I thought it actually happened. We still lived in Richmond, VA, so I was no older than 5.

I was playing in a small dirt patch by our driveway, which was a puddle when it rained and then I would make mud pies. It was dry though, and full of dust and gravel. A black ant, like the kind you see all the time, but gigantic, at least 6 inches long and 3-4 inches tall, walked up to me. I was wearing black ballet slippers on my feet, and the ant bit down on the toes of my left foot and tore them off. It spat them out and scuttled away. Although it didn't hurt, I was terrified and began to scream. My mother rushed up to me, but when she saw what happened, she said it was no big deal. She pulled a travel sewing kit out of her pocket and sewed the toe of my shoe back on to the rest of it. I was afraid to take off my shoe again because she hadn't actually sewn my toes back on, but then when I did, my foot was fine.

In which I stress out about my physics grade

I was standing outside my physics classroom, waiting to be let inside. One of my classmates walked up and said he couldn't stay, and asked me to turn in his homework for him. I agreed to do it but I thought it was weird because we don't usually have to turn in homework. I looked at the papers that he gave me, and they were already graded by the professor, including a test on Chapter 9. I was confused because the class that I was waiting for was a review class for the Thursday exam on Chpt 4-8. I couldn't remember what I had gotten on my Chpt 9 Exam, so I dug through my backpack and pulled out a test paper with a 29. I was really upset because I couldn't see how I would manage an A in the class if I had gotten a 29 on the test, and I couldn't remember even taking the test.

The professor walked up to me and said that he couldn't stay, but that I should let everyone in and conduct the review session, using a DVD. I knew the DVD was already in the classroom and that it taught physics with the help of little Japanese cartoon animals singing in French. I began singing the song, even though I don't know French, and it sounded like "Sympathique," but it was a different song. I agreed to run the review, but after my professor left it occurred to me that I had no way of letting everyone into the classroom, as it was locked and only the teacher had the key.

In which my dad saves me from a serial killer

I was in a house with a very large, overweight man. We were in an empty room with no furniture, nothing on the walls, not even a lamp, nothing except for a woman’s bloody, naked body laying on a sheet on the floor. I knew that the man had killed her and that he probably intended to kill me, too. He made me help him hang a canvas hammock across the room, directly over the body, and I knew he was going to put the body in the hammock and then make me get in too. I was afraid to make him angry so I was trying to be helpful, but I was also thinking of ways to get away from him. I thought if I ran out the front door he would catch me before I could get to help, and then he would hurt me. I asked him if he was going to kill me and he wouldn’t answer. He seemed like he was retarded or otherwise handicapped – there was something off about him, other than the murder. His sister was also in the house and she came in to the room and started helping him with the body. I asked if I could go to the bathroom and they said yes.

In the bathroom, I sat on the toilet and tried to think of ways to get out. Everything was blue and it felt familiar, like I had been there before. I knew even before I looked that the window was too dirty to see out of and too small for me to squeeze through. The bathroom was adjacent to the kitchen, which had a door to a screen porch and the porch to the backyard, and I thought if I could get out I could run to the neighbor’s house, but I knew the door squeaked and they would hear me. I thought about the fact that the man would probably rape, torture, and kill me if I didn’t get out, and I couldn’t believe that it was actually happening. I knew that if I didn’t try to get away, I never would, but I was terrified of trying and getting caught and making everything worse for myself.

I heard someone come into the house and I looked out to see my dad coming in the front door, wearing a suit. Apparently he knew these people and was dropping something off for them. I ran to him and he looked surprised to see me, but didn’t seem to think anything was wrong. The living room now looked normal – there was furniture in it and the man and his sister were watching TV from matching La-Z-Boys. All the furniture was brown and they had crocheted afghans with multicolored squares draped across their laps. There was no sign of the dead body. My dad excused himself to use the restroom and I followed him and told him that these people had kidnapped me and were going to kill me. He said, “OK, let’s get out of here,” and I was so grateful that he believed me immediately. We went back out into the living room, and I saw Dad’s truck pulling away. I was afraid my captors were taking it but Dad said my brother was moving it and I should run out to him and tell him to pull it around. I ran out to the truck – there was a bunch of stuff in the seat and I make my brother help me move it. He asked what the rush was, so I told him the people in the house were trying to kill me. He didn’t believe me at first but then I told him that they were going to make me lay in a hammock with a corpse. We cleared off the seat and pulled the truck around to get Dad. I wasn’t scared for him.

In which JS proposes we build a fort

JV, MT and I were at some sort of fast food restaurant and we had just finished eating. We were supposed to hang out with our friend JS and JV really wanted me to call him. I got the impression she wanted to hook up with him. She didn’t have his number so she asked me to give it to her out of my phone. I was reading it off to her when some one called me – it was JS. I answered and said, “Weird, we were just about to call you!” and asked if he was ready to hang out. He said he was – he wanted us to come over and build a fort in his living room. He said that once we got the basic structure up we could stop and drink beers on the patio. This sounded like a completely awesome idea to me.

In which someone pays a bar tab with a personal check

I’m not sure how it started, but the first thing I remember is standing at fairly crowded bar with JV, trying to order a drink. There was a really obnoxious, condescending guy with us. I think he was trying to impress J by showing off his knowledge of adult beverages and everything about the way he was acting rubbed me the wrong way. I looked at the drink menu and ordered something that was comprised of some kind of fruit liquor and cream. J wanted something with a weird name like a “half-empty sugar lemon” and the obnoxious guy kept telling her they didn’t make it, sweetie. But then the bartender, who looked like Jackie from Roseanne, said that they did. She brought back our order and we had a Midori sour and the half-empty sugar lemon, which was served in a martini glass with blue frosted ice all over it and the name of the drink written into the ice. I started drinking that drink, even though it was J’s and I kind of knew I had ordered something else. The bartender asked me if there was anything wrong with my other drink and I saw the orange beverage in front of me. I tasted it and it tasted like an orange creamsicle. I said, “No, it’s fine, I’ll have both,” and J said it was OK because she would just make herself another one. For some reason she was behind the bar. I remember thinking the obnoxious guy was a pussy for ordering a Midori sour.

Then my friend A came up and handed me a check. I guess everyone at the bar was all part of one party and A was giving me money so I wouldn’t get stuck with the whole tab myself. She kept coming back and giving out more and more checks and I kept telling her she didn’t need to do that. There was some kind of ruckus at the other end of the bar so we went down to see what was going on. A woman was complaining and being difficult, but then one of the bartenders (a man) busted her for trying to write a bad check. Apparently she had paid her tab with one check, but then complained about the service and wanted to pay with another check, and this was an emerging scam in bars. Everyone was impressed with the bartender for figuring it out. Then it seemed like the Jackie bartender was also in on it, and they were both going to be arrested. J and I sat at the bar and MT was there too, and also Lt. Van Buren from Law & Order. Van Buren said that the women who were arrested were in for a long night, and we agreed.

In which I am a surgeon/television star and a bisexual career criminal

I was living in a house with George O’Malley, Izzie Stevens, and Meredith Grey (from the TV show Grey's Anatomy), and I think I was a surgical intern, too. George and I were in my bedroom. I was trying to pick out a pair of shoes to wear; the shoes I tried on were really ugly, although I somehow felt they were appropriate for the hospital and that people might find them fashionable. While I looked at the shoes, George talked about being in love with Meredith and vowed to tell her about it. Meredith walked into the room as he said this and overheard. She sat down on the bed and I sat on the floor as Meredith and George discussed his feelings for her. My teeth began to feel weird, as if they were really crooked, and I couldn’t smile normally. My lips stretched tight over my crooked teeth in a grimace. Meredith turned George down and left the room, and he followed her. I got up, too, and went into the hall, where George was headed to his bedroom. I apologized for not excusing myself from the room while he talked to Meredith. He said it was OK and hugged me. It occurred to me that perhaps I was in love with George.

I went back into the bedroom and began going through a small chest of drawers. They contained things that I believed to belong to Izzie, including a white diary with a ballerina on it and a little brass lock, just like the one I wrote in as a kid. I wondered if I had remembered to bring my diary with me when I moved in and I began to look for it, as I wanted to show Izzie we had the same one, but all of the drawers contained her stuff, not mine. One was full of art pencils and gel pens, and I took a pen and a peach-colored piece of paper and sat on the bed to write a letter. The pen didn’t work, so I went back to the drawer to get another one. I wanted a gel pen, in black, with sparkles in the ink, so I could write a pretty letter, like I used to in college. I felt I should write more letters.

As I was sifting through the drawer, I heard voices around me. A man was describing a job that I was going to participate in with a group of other people. It was some kind of criminal job, but instead of approaching it the way we usually did (because apparently I often committed crimes with this group), we would impersonate some kind of artist or maybe miners. I kept digging through the drawer, pushing aside glitter pens and pulling out supplies that would help with the job, especially charcoal sticks and tools that had a wire triangle on one end (like for shaping clay) and a brush on the other. When I looked up, there was no drawer or bedroom. I was standing on a dingy city street, and there were a bunch of men gathered around a square-shaped hole in the ground, looking in. The hole was about the size of a baby pool, and I think it used to be the drawer. The boss was still talking about the job, and warning everyone that breathing in could damage their lungs. Black dust was rising from the hole and I was afraid I had breathed it in.

I had come with my older sister (I don't actually have a sister) from out of town to participate in the crime, and we met up with a man, older than my sister, who was our particular friend. He looked sort of like Trent Reznor, although everyone was dressed in clothes from another time period, maybe the 1940’s. I think my sister had dated him at some point, and I was interested in him and may have also been involved with him in the past, or expected to be in the future. As we were getting ready to leave, the boss started yelling at another man who wasn’t sure if he wanted to take part. The boss told him he could just walk away, but I knew he would kill him. When I looked over, the man was standing upright, but awkwardly, as if impaled on something, and his neck was broken. I was a little disturbed, but I also felt proud of myself because I had no doubts about doing the job and they had asked my sister and me to come in from out of town to do it.

We walked down the street with our friend, who was carrying my sister’s bag and making fun of her for bringing so much stuff. We got to his house, which had a front porch, and on the porch were a bunch of girls I knew, including the man’s sister, who was my age. She reminded me of my friend K from Smith. I sat down on the porch while the man went inside with my sister, and I hoped that nothing was going on between them. My teeth felt weird again, like they were crooked and my smile was stretched too thin over them. Sitting on the porch reminded me of being at Smith – the porch felt like Baldwin House, even though it was in a city. It was obvious that I had formerly lived in the city or knew everyone well some other way, because I was immediately accepted back into the group and it felt good.

I was telling a story, I think having to do with the job, although I’m not sure; it might have been a tale of past exploits. The man was leaning against the doorframe, listening. At the end, he laughed and said, “That’s Sami – not as tough as she looks.” One of the girls laughed and agreed, but said at least I wasn’t like “Marylee.” I proceeded to tell a story about Marylee, whom everyone seemed to know and no one particularly liked. I kept smiling and feeling self-conscious about my teeth. The man’s sister, who was sitting to my left, said quietly but emphatically that she couldn’t stand Marylee. I no longer wanted anyone to talk about her, because the sister was my closest friend in the group and I didn't want her to be upset, so I sat next to her and changed the subject. I realized that in the past, we were lovers, but were no longer involved in that way. Her brother was watching us from the doorway. I wonder what he thought about the fact that I used to date his sister, if it bothered him.