[dream 1: gypsy] [dream 2: nuclear war] [dream 3: fleece]
[dream 4: subway] [dream 5: hitman] [dream 6: invasion]
[dream 7: vampire]
in a little shack near aqueduct race track in New York City. This is about
a 30min walk from home. The shack is outside the race track, kind of off in the
corner and the race track looks like it's been replaced by a baseball stadium.
I'm there with Brian, a friend of mine or it's someone who reminds me of him.
It's probably supposed to be him because he's a big Yankee fan. In the
dream he's a groundskeeper or has a job related to baseball. Outside there
is a baseball game going on. I can tell because I can hear it from inside
the shack and through this big window I can see balls being hit high into the air over the top of the stadium wall.
Brian is sitting in a chair and I'm standing by the window. It's around
dusk and the sky is very blue and full of clouds. I notice that there is a
solar eclipse going on and it's barely visible even though the moon is
uncommonly large. I mention it to Brian. After a while I decide to
go home. I ask him if he can leave whenever he wants to or if he has
something that requires him to be here during the game. I don't remember
his answer. I get bored and go outside to look around. There is
white/gray gravel on the ground. Through the window I ask Brian where the
car is (for some reason I know we came in a car) and he says that he'll drive me
home because "I'd probably never find the way."
We're in the car and he's driving incredibly fast down deserted streets. It's night time now and I have my seatbelt on. In the streets are an obstacle course of tire barricades so that we have to swerve around them to avoid hitting them. Some we only miss by inches and others we have to drive over. I don't feel safe because of the speed and the neighborhood. Brian makes a comment sort of like he knows the people put the barricades there out of spite. We're driving straight for a long time down blocks that all look the same and every side street ends in what looks like a dead end. I notice one of the street signs says 89th street. For a moment I think the numbers are going up instead of down and I think we're going the wrong way. I mention it to Brian but then I remember what street I live on and that the numbers should be going up. Brian turns down a sidestreet in frustration and when we get to the end there is finally a turn we can make. We make a few more turns and we're now on a right angle to our original direction. The barricades have disappeared but now on every corner is a store with large glass windows. Coming from the windows is a bright orange/yellow light. My seatbelt has come off somehow and I put it back on.
I'm back in my bedroom in NY. Bjork is laying on my bed and Rose from the Golden Girls is sitting in the corner (I saw Lake Placid the other day and she was in it so this sort of makes sense). I'm talking to Bjork and showing her a scribbled poster I made. She looks at the poster and says something like "it's an adjective" as a compliment. The poster is composed of quotes or lyrics that she's said (in her songs I guess). It's done in script in all different colors and most of it looks like it's in crayon. I can barely read it but she'll start part of song and then point to the words on the poster as she reads the rest of the lyrics. I show her another poster that looks like it's made from quotes written on pieces from different types of paper that I've taped or pasted together. I start looking around my room for other quotes I might have. Finally I show her a professional poster of her quotes or lyrics. This looks much more professionally done but she says something like "that's no fun". I bring out a paper place-mat of the chinese zodiac that I got from a chinese restaurant (in real life) and she looks at it and says "that's the second piece of adjective art I've seen". For some reason I put the place-mat on my head and it sticks to my face (because it's basically tissue paper and it's damp for some reason). I try to take it off but it starts coming apart. I tell Bjork that it's stuck to my face and she starts to help me. Hearing her talk, I consider telling her that she doesn't have a strong accent like I thought she would. I look at Rose and she has this troubled look on her face as if she doesn't approve of my conversation with Bjork. She starts to move toward me and that's when I notice that over her clothes she has on this ridiculous cone shaped bra like Madonna used to wear. I ask her what does she think she's doing and she stops coming towards me.
I hear my father yell upstairs to me and I look out the window of my room to see a jeep with 3 of my friends from New York getting out. It's almost pitch black outside. I shout that I'll be down later and he tells me to come down now. I don't want to stop talking to Bjork but I say goodbye and before I get downstairs my brother is there and he tells me that my blue FILA fleece got shrunk in the wash. I'm upset and I want to know why it was washed and especially why it was washed in warm water.
I go downstairs and I'm still upset. My father is talking to me and I shout at him about the fleece. I realize that I'd crossed the line by shouting, and for some reason I'm stepping backwards as he's walking towards me. I can't stop my legs from moving and I back into the living room and fall on the couch. He picks up a pair of fingerless gloves like he's going to slap me with them but he doesn't. I look at my hand and it won't stop shaking. He walks away and I lean my head back wondering what could be next. Out of the corner of my eye I see a Christmas tree and for some reason it's not peculiar to me even though it's out of season. Then I see a cat that doesn't belong to us. Then I see two more cats that don't belong to us. One of the cats is gray with black stripes and on it's back it has a really small tail with a little gold band around it's base. My cousin walks into the room and makes a comment like "400 bucks at animal league". So I guess he bought the cats. Sometime during all this I think I remember my 3 friends coming in and going up the stairs to my room.
I go into the basement to check on the fleece situation and my brother is there. We talk some more about why my clothes got accidentally washed and where I should and shouldn't leave them in the future. Apparently my aunt accidentally washed them because they were in the washing machine. I make a comment that I'm going to have to live permanently on a college campus so I can leave my clothes in the washer if I want to. I go into the boiler room where my aunt is and give her a hug. I tell her I don't want a fleece to come between us. I wake up.
This is one of those long dreams that I don't get to remember all that often. Nothing extraordinary about it except for the clarity of the details. Once again numbers show up.