Post your dreams!
Posted: Thu Feb 07, 2002 5:05 pm
This is something of a companion thread to Dreams, where people have been discussing the reasons behind their dreams, under the tutelage of Expert Dreamologist, Dr. @CE. 
In this thread, you can actually state your dream, allowing people to gawk at you and shudder in private. Have fun!
And to show my generosity of spirit, I will go first. Earlier, I had a dream about going to bed in a Vegas hotel suite after arriving quite late. I woke up to discover nine people sitting in the suite's lounge, talking. They were evidently a road band (of what sort, I'm not sure, since they only had a few guitars with them, and none of them looked or sounded like brain-blasted road musicians). We decided that the hotel had double-booked us for the hotel, though they seemed to want to contest the room although I'd been in it, first. So we went down to speak to the front desk.
Only there wasn't a front desk, or rather, only one: each floor seemed to have a huge, open area done up in red velvet and gold that functioned as a (and appeared to be ) a lobby. While getting around, I walked past a machine that dispensed five or six snacks from clear containers--you know the kind; and then I went by a second one a few feet later that dispensed five or six different kind of condoms. A few feet later, there was a third machine dispensing various magical ingredients out of Macbeth (brindled cat, etc). People were sitting around small tables everywhere, packed in and drinking, talking as loudly as possible. They not only ran the range of humans, but included at least one individual who was lime green and had a single antenna coming out of his scalp with an umbrella turning around it.
Each time I made it to the front of what appeared to be the multipurpose lobby/bar/restaurant, I was told to go to another floor. Finally, I was told the real front desk was on floor 18.
Unfortunately, that desk was much like a post office's, and the front was rolling up as I arrived, presumably for lunch, or breakfast. A holiday detective apporoached me (I was still dressed in a bathrobe, oddly enough), but became friendly after I explained the problem to him. The only odd thing in this portion of the dream was that I still retained any earthly notion of what the problem was, since the dream itself had been entertaining enough, and the continuity girl is usually left off the hiring roster when they're building dream sets in your subconcious.
That's it. I awoke at that point. The only possible link I can find in that morass to real life is my concern for my wife, who's just taken a new job that will have her living in a hotel 4 days a week outside Boston. And I loathe Vegas, but the last time I looked, it was considerably to the west (or east, depending upon your POV) of Boston.
The back of my mind is even more dadaist than the front, apparently.
In this thread, you can actually state your dream, allowing people to gawk at you and shudder in private. Have fun! And to show my generosity of spirit, I will go first. Earlier, I had a dream about going to bed in a Vegas hotel suite after arriving quite late. I woke up to discover nine people sitting in the suite's lounge, talking. They were evidently a road band (of what sort, I'm not sure, since they only had a few guitars with them, and none of them looked or sounded like brain-blasted road musicians). We decided that the hotel had double-booked us for the hotel, though they seemed to want to contest the room although I'd been in it, first. So we went down to speak to the front desk.
Only there wasn't a front desk, or rather, only one: each floor seemed to have a huge, open area done up in red velvet and gold that functioned as a (and appeared to be ) a lobby. While getting around, I walked past a machine that dispensed five or six snacks from clear containers--you know the kind; and then I went by a second one a few feet later that dispensed five or six different kind of condoms. A few feet later, there was a third machine dispensing various magical ingredients out of Macbeth (brindled cat, etc). People were sitting around small tables everywhere, packed in and drinking, talking as loudly as possible. They not only ran the range of humans, but included at least one individual who was lime green and had a single antenna coming out of his scalp with an umbrella turning around it.
Each time I made it to the front of what appeared to be the multipurpose lobby/bar/restaurant, I was told to go to another floor. Finally, I was told the real front desk was on floor 18.
Unfortunately, that desk was much like a post office's, and the front was rolling up as I arrived, presumably for lunch, or breakfast. A holiday detective apporoached me (I was still dressed in a bathrobe, oddly enough), but became friendly after I explained the problem to him. The only odd thing in this portion of the dream was that I still retained any earthly notion of what the problem was, since the dream itself had been entertaining enough, and the continuity girl is usually left off the hiring roster when they're building dream sets in your subconcious.
That's it. I awoke at that point. The only possible link I can find in that morass to real life is my concern for my wife, who's just taken a new job that will have her living in a hotel 4 days a week outside Boston. And I loathe Vegas, but the last time I looked, it was considerably to the west (or east, depending upon your POV) of Boston.
The back of my mind is even more dadaist than the front, apparently.