Bad Dream 179 -- Allison Again

 Much to my surprise, I've just had another erotic dream which involved Allison.  This one was different in a many respects, but still...  

I was awakened by an alarm at 5:15 this morning, so much of the dream vanished before I started thinking about saving the details.  Rats.

The one image I can recall -- and this may not be what I really dreamed, just something my Unconscious suggested afterwards -- is my carrying Allison in my arms from someplace to some other place more desirable.  I think she was wearing little or no clothing in the process.  

The dream did not involve having actual sex with her, but that may have been something that had recently happened or was about to happen.  In any case, Allison was okay with that taking place -- not as eager as she was in the previous dream.

The nature of the dream was that conditions surrounding Allison and me were not good.  And we needed to do something and/or go somewhere to alleviate any concern.  

Upshot being that Allison was okay and that she and I shared some common concern -- which I think was going to affect her more than me and that I was aiding her to get her and me to a safer better place.  Not something horribly tragic awaited us, but something we would really want to avoid.  

Most of my dream life has been completely different scenarios and subjects, so having these two erotic dreams -- especially about someone I know -- is intriguing.  

Stay tuned!

Bad Dream 178 -- A Hole in the Sand

My dream takes place at the Stansbury Beach Club.  This was a downhome, members-only club with a sand beach, a stand of lovely old trees, some open grassy areas, and a clubhouse in the suburban Baltimore area.  During the summers of my early youth, this was the only place to be.  (But the "me" of the dream is an adult.)

As my dream starts, I am standing on the beach -- probably barefoot, since that would have been normal and also because I notice that the sand under my feet feels almost powdery.  I assume that the grains of the sand are considerably smaller than I'm used to when walking this beach.  

Walking on a little farther, I notice that the quality of the sand has changed, and is now more grainy.  I crouch down to look at the sand more carefully and take a handful to see how that feels.  It confirms what I was feeling.

With a little effort, I find the dividing line between the fine-grained sand and the coarse-grained sand.  I now drop thoroughly in the investigative mode.  

Looking a little farther, I see that the sand now includes pebbles.  The pebbles all look considerably different -- one from one another.  I consider the possibility that there may be fossils in this gravel, so I abandon the question of the sand granularity and start searching for microfossils.  

As I move across the sand in my search, I find a depression in the sand/gravel mixture, and consider this to be a good place to search for fossils.  As I dig into the depression a bit, the surface gives way and falls into a large hole.  The hole is fairly horizontal, so I can see into it and get fairly close to look farther in without the danger of the hole collapsing further and taking me with it -- more like a wall than a floor.

Looking into the hole, I am surprised and shocked to see what looks very much like a tunnel.  One large enough to allow passage of a car easily.  The far wall of the tunnel is perfectly vertical and looks like a constructed wall rather than an extension of the sand.  And the bottom of the tunnel looks like it's paved with asphalt or concrete.  

And there are electric lights in the tunnel as well.  Bare bulbs shining brightly.  And the condition of the floor suggests that the tunnel has been used recently and may be used fairly frequently by motorized vehicles.  

What goes through my mind is that this is part of the Country's defense system left over from World War II -- when German submarines were known to be prowling the country's waterways.  

I decide that I need to tell the Beach Club Management about my findings.  I tell one or two front-line employees who decide to get Upper Management involved immediately.  I recognize the Head Manager from some other part of my life, but I can't recall who or where or when.

The front-line employees are pretty concerned about what I tell them.  But the Manager has a "Well. let's not get carried away with this" attitude.  He seems to want me to believe this is all news to him, but I have the feeling he's known about this tunnel -- where it comes from and where it goes -- all along.  At this point, he just wants to keep the news about the finding of the tunnel suppressed to the smallest possible number of people.  

Maybe he's doing the right thing, but I can't shake the feeling that he's trying to cover up something...

Bad Dream 177 -- Getting Back to Brian

In my dream, I am standing outside on a farm or in a park with Brian Fahey and some of the kids from West Chester Friends School.  (I'm not sure that's where the kids are from, but coming from WCFS makes sense and would be perfectly reasonable.)  Things are going well.

Soon, I find that I'm on a train with Brian on our way to Edmonton, Alberta to do some business issue or issues about the kids and park or farm where we've been.  If there are kids along on this trip, I don't hear or see them.  Edmonton is not that far away from the farm or park -- maybe an hour's trip by train.  

Things move forward quickly.  We're off the train, got the business issues resolved, and are back on the train.  The next stop for the train will be where we get off and return to the farm or park.  

The train slows down considerably to make the stop so we can get off.  And Brian sure enough does disembark.  But the train accelerates away from the stop before I can get off.  I look out the window and see Brian looking anxious about what's happening -- but there's really nothing he can do.  

I don't feel any panic or alarm, only an inconvenience to myself and -- quite probably -- to Brian as well.  I will simply get off the train at the next stop and wait for the next train going back to the stop where we initially started our trip,  The stop where Brian got off.  

Much to my surprise, the next stop is Edmonton!  It would seem that the train did a 180-degree turn on the tracks without my noticing.  But I still feel there won't be a problem in getting back to Brian.  I get off the train in Edmonton.

There's nothing in the dream about getting out of the train, off the platform, and into the station, but I find myself next walking around the streets of Edmonton.  I understand somehow that the idea of getting a return train is not going to work.  So I begin to search for a taxi to take me back.  

I ask numerous people where would be the easiest place to find a taxi, and people tell me to do things and/or go places that turn out to be impossible for me to do or visit.  Someone tells me he's sure that a taxi can be found at The Red Box building.  I somehow understand that building to be a cinderblock structure -- quite possibly a beer distributor.  His confidence makes me feel that I'm on the way to resolving this whole issue, but when I follow his instructions to find The Red Box, I am completely unsuccessful.  No buildings even close to his description.  When I ask other folks about The Red Box they either don't know or give me yet additional directions that don't work.  

I try to use my cell phone to get in touch with Brian to let him know where I am and my current status.  Rather than asking for the telephone number for a Brian Fahey (of which there may be several or many) I ask for the number for WCFS.  I try this several times, but the operators I'm working with either don't understand what I'm saying or give me some kind of runaround that is of no help whatsoever.  When I try for the 4th or 5th time, I am informed that I have used up all my opportunities to get information from these operators.  

At this point, I realize that, in addition to not knowing exactly where I am in Edmonton, I don't know the name of the place where Brian and the kids are staying and I don't even know the name of the train stop where Brian disembarked.  

My phone is getting low on its charge.  I'm lost in a city I know nothing about.  I don't know how I'm going to find anyone who can help me and I don't know how anyone who wanted to find me could do so.  

I am relieved to wake up.

Bad Dream 176 -- Allison Has Issues

In my dream, I am in a room with a number of other people.  Initially, I don't recognize anyone, but then I see Allison some distance away.  She is smiling -- almost grinning -- as she walks hand-in-hand with a guy towards a door to an adjoining room.  They enter the room and I "know" that they've locked the door.  

I also "know" that they've left these other people in order to have sex.  My notes on this dream suggest that she invited him to have sex rather than the other way around.

Now, I'm very fond of Allison and I don't want to see her get hurt -- knowing that's happened often enough in her life.  And she certainly seemed happy to take this fellow into the other room for a tryst.  So it's likely that she will be fine.  

But "likely" isn't good enough.  I plan to stay around -- even though I don't know anyone else in the group -- until I see Allison again and feel that she's okay.  There's a slight chance she might need my support.  And that slight chance is enough to keep me nearby.

I walk outside onto a small porch surrounded by a waist-high railing.  I don't want to be conspicuous in the group and have no interest in chatting with any of them.  But I'm going to stay close for the reason stated.  

The ground on the other side of the fence is quite far below me. So obviously the railing is there to keep people from falling over the edge.  And this suggests that either we're on some kind of tower or edge of a cliff.  I don't know which and can't figure out how to find out.  

I find myself back in the room with the crowd of people and see Allison returning to the group in the company of a guy who may or may not be the one with whom she left the room.  They are both naked.  He sits on a chair or sofa and Allison sits on his lap in such a way that they can have sex or continue to have sex.  There's not much response from the people around them.

Something happens such that the guy isn't there anymore, and Allison is there -- naked and in a state of sexual ardor.  She invites a nearby man to continue the coitus, but he declines.  She asks another guy with the same response.  After several more asks with the same result, she is getting somewhat frantic and desperate.  

She asks every male in the room except me and one other guy.  I don't know whether she even sees me or know that I'm there.  The other guy saunters over to me and says something like  -- "Well, you and I are the only guys she's not going to invite."

Bad Dream 175 -- Somebody Stole my Bed

In my dream, I am in a rather confusing building.  In part, it's where I live and in part it's where I work.  

In an early stage of my dream, I open the door to the room in which I have been living.  I expect to see my bed -- a nice Danish modern Queen-size kind of bed -- and my belongings.  Books, clothes, and so forth.  In fact what I see is a completely empty room.  There is carpeting on the floor, but absolutely nothing else.  

There is activity happening around the building -- workmen moving things here and there -- and I assume that my stuff has simply been moved to another room.  So I spend considerable time looking for that new room.  I think I may ask some of the folks doing the moving about my bed and belongings, but get no helpful response.  As this process goes on, I feel less and less likely to ever find my stuff again.  

Partway through this process, a come across someone I know.  We're both Field Service Engineers and have worked on the same project from time to time.  He has been moved out of his room in this building into a hotel room, with the Company (whatever that is...) paying the bill.  He's annoyed that, while the Company is paying for the room he has to pay "Service Charges" for that room out of his own pocket.  His plan is to take this issue up with Management immediately before these charges accumulate too high.  He walks away.

I walk into an open area in the building.  It might be used as a lobby in other times, but at the moment it is rather full of shipping boxes -- mainly cardboard and mostly rather large.  Someone who's working in this area sees me and tells me he has a box that has been sent to me.  It's a bit bigger than a briefcase but roughly the same shape.  

I open it and find that it's full of metal pieces something like Erector Set pieces but mainly brass rather than aluminum.  It's been sent to me by someone who works for one of our client companies-- someone with whom I got along quite well.  And somehow I know that the pieces can be assembled into a model Power Plant similar to the one he and I worked on some time ago.  It should be fun to assemble, but it will take time -- and I have a much more pressing assignment!

But I'm quite pleased at the present and tell myself to get back in touch with the sender as soon as I find my bed and belongings.

By this time, it's clear to me that any additional searching on my part would be useless.  My stuff may still be here somewhere, but it would seem to be a place that I don't have access to.  

My immediate superior is not around, so I can't ask for his assistance.  I know it's no good looking for him.  But I see his boss (that is, my boss's boss) and explain my situation to him.  He's sympathetic and I think he would really like to help, but he's so tied up with the moving stuff in and out of the building, he simply doesn't have time to help out.  

As these last events take place, my concern switches from "Where is my bed and stuff?" to "Where am I going to sleep tonight?"  It's getting on towards evening...

Bad Dream 174 -- My BIcycle in Pieces

In my dream, I'm trying to reassemble my bicycle.  I have no information as to why it is in pieces, but I think I can reassemble it.  I'm not terribly sure my efforts will be successful, but I'm trying to do this out of curiousity as much as regaining use of my bicycle.  I know that there are several shops I could visit with the pieces and they would do the job quickly and inexpensively, but that's not the way I want this to happen.

I'm in a room with several other extended family members.  I know that Sarah is here and also my (now deceased brother) David.  And I know there are others, but can't identify them.

I also know that David is very good at this sort of assembly/disassembly, but I really don't want any assistance from him.  I'm not sure why...

The bike isn't completely disassembled and it seems to me that I will have to take several pieces off the existing partial assembly before proceeding with the overall reassembly -- and it's this disassembly that has me concerned more than the reassembly.  

The room is crowded and not well lit.  I need to put the bike pieces in a particular array and arrangement to begin reassembly, but as mentioned above there's some disassembly to take place first.  This will involve the removal of small black screws holding several pieces together.  And if these screws get dropped or otherwise get away from me, they will probably never be found again and will be impossible to purchase in my local hardware store.  And that will likely preclude my reassembly project and I will just have to buy a new bicycle.  

I find that I can either position these pieces in a good light, but that would interfere with the doings of some of the people.  Or I can lay out the pieces in a nice neat way, but the light will be too dark to do any work.  There don't seem to be any places that meet both criteria.

As I'm looking at the pieces and considering where to start, David comes over and starts fingering the pieces I have in front of me.  I bark at him to chase him away.  He leaves. 

Some of the parts are held together with"Acorn Nuts" -- but they are really flimsy, being thin sheet metal bent in to the proper shape.  (Different from the small black screws mentioned above.)  Throughout much of the dream, I am complaining to myself about these fasteners.  It's clear they won't hold up under any of the pressure and wears and tear of riding a bicycle.  Grumble grumble.

David comes back, and once again starts to examine the pieces of the bike in front of me.  And I chase him away again.  I understand that having him help me -- or do the job himself -- will vastly increase the likelihood of the project being successful.  And I also understand that I am being unreasonable.  But that's how it is.  

Bad Dream 173 -- Stealing Stuff From My Car

 My dream begins with me in a commercial building setting.  It's the office portion of a research and development company.  I don't work here, but I know the people and their products.  I like them and they like me.  The lady I'm talking with is disappointed in the results of a test on their latest invention.  When they hooked it up to a more conventional device (a projector?) it didn't work.  

I suggested that the problem might be with the projector (if that's what it was...) rather than their invention and that they should try a different device for the test.  She hadn't thought about that and was enthusiastic to give it a try.

So I left the building feeling pretty good about myself.  

I start walking towards my car.  It's getting late in the day and it had been raining.  The parking lot -- which is half empty -- is wet and the sky is still cloudy.  I'm carrying a rather large box that I plan to put in my car and then go do something else before leaving.  My car is more than halfway across this large parking lot, but I can see it as I walk towards it.

I place the box on the back seat of my car and close the door.  I notice that there are two young men -- late teens or early 20's -- walking around my car.  Literally circling around it and looking in towards me and the car.  They are wearing bandanas across the bottom half of their faces. I consider this to be weird, but young men do weird things, so it doesn't bother me.

But just in case, I turn towards them and ask them a question ("What are you doing?" "Will you please go elsewhere?") and they scamper off to the woods nearby.

Now that they've gone, I can walk back to some building (I think it's another one -- not the one I just left).  As I walk a couple hundred feet away, I turn to see the two young men have returned to my car and are no longer wearing bandana masks.  One of them opens the back lid of my SUV and start to examine the contents.  I call out to them and tell them to go away.  They scamper away again.  I start walking towards my next destination, but am now concerned about what the young men have in mind.  

I walk a little farther and turn once more to look at the car.  They have the doors open and are removing the packages that I've stored in the back seat and elsewhere in the car.  I call out to them, but this time they look up at me, then go back to looting my car.  

I reach into my pockets to grab the remote control.  I can't lock the doors, since they're already open, but I can at least set off the alarm.  And I find that I don't have my keys.  They must still be in the car!!  Now I'm concerned that I may lose all those packages as they steal my car as well.

I start running back towards the car, but I'm not very good at running anymore.  I find that I have a bottle in my hand and consider throwing it at the burglars.  I realize it won't do any good and that my chances of actually hitting one of them and not my car are very small.  But in frustration, I hurl the bottle anyway.