Dream of: 19 November 1993 "Head Of A Dead Buzzard"

I was at the first day of a class where about 50 lawyers were present. A judge, sitting in front, was conducting the class. My father was sitting next to me on my left. A book was lying in front of me; I gradually realized I might soon be called upon to read something from the book. I began reading the book so I might be prepared. As I read, I realized many of the words in the book were misspelled. There was also a symbol which I didn't understand. It looked like a zero with a vertical line through it. I tapped the shoulder of the man in front of me, and asked him how to read the symbol. He told me.

Finally the judge began calling on people to read. The judge's method was to begin calling on someone in a row, and to continue down the row calling on one person after another. Since the judge had started on the other side of the room, I was relieved because I didn't think I would have to read anything.

As I continued leafing through the book, I noticed some of the pages were torn and bent back; I thought the damage must have happened while the book was being published. As I continued, I found inside the book a gray, black object which I realized was the head of a dead buzzard. I pulled it out and threw it on the floor. It looked as if some more bones were still in the book. I recalled having heard something earlier about a buzzard, but I thought it extremely strange to find the dead head in my book. I didn't know whether my father had seen what I had done.


I was driving a car, trying to reach a place where I was supposed to take a test. At the same time, I was looking at myself in a mirror and trying to shave with a razor with a plastic blue handle. Unfortunately I had no water; shaving with a dry razor was difficult. My beard had three or four days growth; I was afraid I was going to scratch my skin. I continued scraping the stubble.


I was riding up on an elevator. When the door opened, Peggy (17-18 years old) was standing in front of me. When she stepped in, I immediately told her I felt funny about the way my face looked. I didn't feel as if I had adequately shaved; I tried to explain to her that I normally didn't look this way. The left side of my face especially felt as if I had a big patch of stubble on it which I had missed.

Peggy didn't seem concerned. I asked her if she had studied and whether she was ready for the test. She said she was. She asked me if I was ready, and I responded, "I don't care."

I really didn't care. I hadn't studied, but still felt I would do all right. It really didn't matter to me.


I was in a class room sitting next to Peggy; I didn't think anyone else was around. I was very attracted to her, and I wanted to see if I could go out with her. When I talked with her, however, I learned she had already married Clifford. Clifford was sitting at a table on the other side of Peggy. I was very disappointed that I obviously wouldn't be able to go out with Peggy.


I was standing in a classroom in Patriot; I was talking to a black-haired girl whom I had known a long time ago. She resembled Beverly Hazlett (a girl I had known when I was about 15 years old). I wanted very much to be with her, if possible. She put her arms around me and we hugged each other. Her closeness began to excite me. I didn't only want to be with her here in the classroom, I wanted to be with her later tonight.


I was sitting next to a brown-haired girl whom I had known a long time ago. She resembled Ruth Hazlett (Beverly Hazlett's sister). I recalled she had always seemed superior to me, as if she had been in a higher grade than I in school. But now when I talked with her, I felt very close to her; I would like to be with her tonight. I told her I now felt as if I were more her equal, and as if we could now relate better. I realized she wasn't perfect. She was a lot like me; I was sure she was the one I wanted to be with. However, she seemed uncertain she wanted to be with me. I was going to have to be persistent, because I liked her very much.

I was wearing a short-sleeved shirt. She pointed to my biceps in my right arm and said she liked me now that I had gained some weight. Apparently I used to be skinny. She seemed to think my biceps were muscle, but I was thinking to myself that it was just fat – not very impressive.

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