Volcano at the beach

I was on a beach with A, my mom, my brother, and a few friends. There was a beautiful mountain in the distance on the other side of the water. We were just generally having a nice time at sunset, playing at the waters' edge when I noticed that the waves were partially black. I thought it might be oil or something, then someone mentioned that it was coming from the volcano. But it seemed normal, so we just kept playing but stayed away from the water.

Soon the water was overrun with this black stuff, and I figured it was probably time to leave. So I called out to everyone that we needed to go now. Just as I'd said this, you could see lava running down the sides of the mountain and ash clouds forming at the top. Of course, everyone at the beach had the same idea and started running for their cars or for home. My car was right there on the beach, but I could not find my keys in my purse. I was afraid that the lava would come through the ocean before I could find my keys. Luckily, I found them, unlocked the car, and sped away. As I was leaving the beach area, I looked in the rearview mirror and saw the mountain explode in a volcanic eruption. I told myself, "This is a dream. Wake up." But I couldn't wake up, so I figured that it was real and I better get busy saving people's lives by getting out of there.

I drove as fast as I could, following the Volcano Evacuation Route signs, until we came to a clinic where a few people (not that many, strangely enough) had stopped to take shelter, as it was out of the path of the volcano. We all got out of the car and the nurses there came to greet us and treat any injuries we'd gotten while we went away. I wasn't injured at all, but was really shaken up. The nurses gave us soup. They had lots of supplies and food there in a back room. I ate quickly and then went to see where everyone else was. A. was sleeping, as was my brother and a bunch of friends, in an exam room. My mom was talking to the nurses. I found out that the nurses had been so busy, they had not eaten. So I made soup for them since I made me feel better to help. I figured we should stay there until it became safe to go out again, and decided I would also get some sleep. So I went to sleep on a couch (which was when I woke up in real life.)

Ill-Fated Wedding

I always dream that I am in India. I don't know why.

This time we had gone for a friend's wedding. Maybe one of A's friends. I don't know who exactly it was. Many of our friends from Baton Rouge were also there, but it wasn't their wedding; it was some unknown person.

So A and the rest of the guys are busy upstairs with the groom, and even though I don't know the bride, I go help her get ready. She is dressed in all her finery and we chat briefly. She seems nice enough.

Right before the wedding is to begin, she gets onto the back of an elephant, but then something goes wrong, and the elephant tips over and crushes her and so there is no wedding.

Later, I was driving but not very well because I wasn't used to the car. I kept accelerating and decelerating too fast. A. was in the backseat and was going to get motion sick, so I swung into a parking lot and told him that he could drive. And drive he did, much better than me.

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I think that I had this dream because I watched that awful Iggy Azalea "Bounce" video yesterday and this was my subconscious telling me exactly what I really thought of the video and Iggy Azalea in particular.

Trip to Mumbai (combining two dreams)

I have had two dreams over the last month or so that placed me in Mumbai. The feel was the same in both so I will write them here, with the first dream coming first.

I had travelled there for my junior high school friend's art exhibition. He was a sculptor. So I went to a shopping mall where the art gallery was. The gallery was all decorated in off-white gossamer. I found his sculptures in a back room of the gallery, partially open to the outside. The sculptures were alabaster. But I did not know very much about art so I just simply admired them and then went back outside.

I was glad to be there. That was the main feeling I had - happiness at being back in India. I was travelling with another lady, only known to me in the dream, named Caroline. She was an American woman in her 40s. We were at a train depot and needed money, so we used our ATM cards to get out American money and then had it changed into rupees at another, completely automated, kiosk. I did not know those sorts of things were possible, but it had been a long time since I had been to India.

We travelled out a bit to the suburbs, where we went to a party. Some of my online friends were there. Many nameless and faceless people, too. We lounged around in a white room. Two friends in particular I met there. One was just as I had imagined - the kindest, friendliest person with a million dollar smile, a heart of gold, and interesting things to say. He just was so full of brilliance and care that I wanted to talk to him to the exclusion of everyone else, but he and Caroline were in a conversation so I turned my attention to the rest of the party, and another friend who I was meeting for the first time. We had an interesting rapport, he and I; I felt I always had to be at the intellectual ready, but didn't feel like it was a one-upping conversation. I have used the term 'mind sharpener' to describe such people and conversations, but those conversations often felt a bit forced, as if I had to prove myself. This was not so forced. I do not even remember what we talked about. Certainly literature; maybe politics. It was intellectual, yet effortless and natural. And at the moment when I realized how effortless and natural it was, I realized I had something very important to say.

"I have to go."

And I got up, took Caroline with me, and we left.

We pondered how to get back to the downtown area (Although it was Mumbai, it was nothing like Mumbai actually was. It was more like Chicago, actually.) and decided we would take the metro. So we headed over to the metro. Images of the downtown area, brought from another dream, filled my mind. Narrow streets, brick buildings, again nothing like what is reality but it was indeed the downtown in my dream.

And I suppose we went there, but in a dream I have not yet dreamed.

Dreams that ended lucidly but otherwise were messed up

I went to Baton Rouge for work and it was at the same time as the Diwali show. So I also went to that,w hich was nice. At some point I had to go to the bathroom, so I went down the hall to the women's locker room. I walked into the men's first and saw a bunch of guys chilling in the hot tub, realized I was in the wrong one, and went to the women's quickly. There was also a hot tub there, and also a sauna and a steam room. I thought again about the fact that I miss having a steam room and hadn't gone to a gym that had one since 2008. There were, of course, lockers - it was a locker room after all. But there were no toilets. So I realized I had to wake up if I wanted to go to the bathroom.

It was 5:30 AM when I woke up. I thought I'd stay awake, but I fell asleep again.

And in this second dream, I was at home again, but some friends from the recent past had come back to visit. It was really nice to see them, but then they decided they wanted to get a picture of me laughing. I didn't want to take a picture, so one of them tickled my feet while the other one took pictures. I told them if they posted the pictures on Facebook, I'd kill them.

And this is how I found out that I am ticklish even in my dreams.

The manuscript of no return

I had gone on a trip, to a work outing of a sort; an offsite. I do not remember very much except a short plane flight on a very small, maybe a 16-seater plane. I had spoken with the pilot as though he were a bus driver. The  plane was well-outfitted with pale lacquered wood and almond-colored leather; very 1980s millionaire chic. Yet none of us were millionaires.

We got to our location and I unpacked my suitcase. Inside my suitcase was a story I had written. It was a story of my own thoughts and feelings regarding a sensitive matter, except with all names changed. However, someone who was mentioned quite a lot in the story did skim over the first page, just by glancing in my suitcase. Recognized it. Wanted to read more.

I was torn between handing over the manuscript, thus revealing all my private thoughts, and keeping it to myself even though I thought what was said there needed to be said. It was a moment of no return though; no matter what happened after that, everything would have changed one way or another.

I can't remember what my reaction was.

I woke up and the moral from the dream, to me, seemed to be to pack personal items in your suitcase underneath your clothes.

the etiquette of toys

In this dream, my sister lived in a colonial-era bungalow in India and I guess it was the colonial era, because she was not allowed to leave the house either. My brother-in-law was a wealthy landowner and would go out On Business. When he was gone, my sister was bored, so he would bring her beautiful wooden painted toys to keep her occupied. 

But she didn't like wooden toys; she liked plastic toys and would get other people in the house to bring her plastic toys.

My BIL found out about it and brought her a plastic toy on his next return home but was angry that she preferred the plastic toys over the handpainted wooden ones. 

A heavy warm stay in Tri-Cities

From Sept. 10, 2011

I moved to Tri-Cities and stayed with the family of a friend there. The house was almost like an apartment building and had a garage apartment, but I slept in the actual house, not the garage apartment. I did not know how long I would stay there. 

I lived everyday life there with the family. It was a life I loved; I felt like I was living in a dream where everything was full of orange and brown, flecks of yellow, nostalgia from a childhood I experienced and from one my friend experienced all wrapped up into a shared nostalgia that we were still lucky to live in.

We then went bike riding in Moscow, because of course in this dream Moscow was part of Tri-Cities. However, as we were nearing the edge of the U of I campus, we heard there was a tornado warning and decided to head back. We did not see any tornadoes though; only rain in the distance. My friend's bike broke down and I had to fix it, which I did with little difficulty, and we made it back before the rain.

When we returned, I wanted to make tea, but in my own kitchen there were no pots and pans. I took some from the main kitchen and began to make tea. My friend's sister and mom came in and wanted to talk about how long I would stay, because the neighbors had seen a card with my name on it and had complained; they said that citizens were not welcome in this neighborhood, only immigrants. I told them that was ridiculous and illegal, but I was ready to move back to Pullman because I missed Anirban. I called him and he was happy to hear that I was coming back. So I got ready to move back to Pullman, bringing the orange and brown memories of nostalgia back with me.