Bad Dream 195 -- Shaving off My Goatee

In my dream, I am shaving -- which for me is a two-step process.  One to cut the length of the hair in my goatee so that it is shorter and of even length overall and the other to shave off all the protruding hair around the goatee and up to my sideburns.  This second part is a bit tricky as I try to clearly define the edges of the goatee without cutting the hair of the goatee itself.

As the dream starts, I am engaged in this defining part of the process and have decided that I don't have to look at myself in the mirror to do that.  And because I'm not looking at my reflection, I cut off a considerable amount of goatee hair.  It only takes a half second of lost concentration for this to happen.  And it happened.  

Looking in the mirror, it's obvious to me that I can't compensate the razor's intrusion into my goatee by shaving off the hair on the opposite side.  It would look truly weird to do so.

So I have no real choice but to shave off the entire goatee -- a solution which doesn't bother me that much, as I am now curious as to what my face looks like without any facial hair.  (Now that I'm writing this, I realize I might have saved the mustache, but that didn't occur to me in the dream.  And I think that if I had thought of it, I would have shaved the mustache off anyway.)

There's a "time lapse" in the dream, whereby the process of removing what was left of the goatee is removed.  One moment I have my goatee and the next moment it's gone.

Looking at my now-naked face, I am surprised as to how much younger I look without the goatee.  In part, that's because the wrinkles in my face are either gone completely or are a lot less prominent.  I now have the face of someone who is 40 years old or younger.  

I'm quite pleased.

_____________________________________

It is apparent to me that this dream reflects my feelings on discovering some old love letters written to me by a woman roughly 55 years ago.  I came across the letters completely by accident -- and had no idea I had kept them.  

But the effect of the letters has been profound on my feelings about this girl -- feelings that I had obviously simply set aside or forgotten or suppressed or whatever.  That the feelings were a complete surprise,  And I cherish these renewed feelings.

She and I got along (my recollection) beautifully for months or maybe a year or two.  I don't recall.  And I don't recall the details of our break-up -- just that I was angry at something she did.  And from where I am and who I am now, I'm afraid that the break-up was completely my fault and that I might have hurt her in the process.  

I am now committed to try and re-establish some relationship with her -- if I can find her.  I only recall that she was a student at Queens College in Kingston, Ontario at the time.  

I realize the result of that search might seriously damage my relationship with Deb, but I tell myself this desire to try and find her would likely just fester.  And the odds of locating her are remote in any case.

But I take the meaning of my dream to be that the search offers a healthy rejuvenation.  

It says here...  

Bad Dream 194 -- Not Ready to Grade the Test

In my dream, I am in a classroom situation.  I am a student along with the rest of the class, but I am also one of three students given the special (duty? honor? responsibility?) of grading the tests of all the other students.  Each one of the three of us will grade the tests of one-third of the students who took the exam.  This means, of course, that the instructor has enough faith in us that the three of us will get an "A" grade on the exam.

The exam has just finished, and the students' test papers are being collected.

The exam asked questions about a famous work of literature.  It might have been something like The Odyssey or possibly Shakespeare or similar.  

Some of the students are chatting away, now that the test is over, concerning the questions and their approach to answering them.  Comments are being made like "I really feel the entire plot pivots on the fact that..." or "Did you think that so-and-so in the story was telling the truth about..."

And I realize that I don't know anything about the questions or opinions being voiced by my fellow students.  Which means that I am totally unable to grade the test papers that would be my responsibility to grade.  (That is, the papers of one-third of all the students.)

I recall that I had read the assigned piece of literature, but I had only read it once and obviously hadn't read it carefully enough to answer any of the questions being asked on the exam.  

I have a choice of trying to fake it for the moment and then try to figure out how to handle the situation once I have the test papers in-hand and have escaped from the classroom -- or simply confessing to the fact that I couldn't grade the tests.  And I choose the latter course.

While most of the students (and the instructor) were in the room and chatting away, I get everyone's attention and told them of my own inadequacy to grade the papers.  The room got very quiet and a heavy feeling of disbelief came over everyone.  "How could Randy have done such an irresponsible thing?" "What do you suppose the instructor's going to do?"  "So who's going to grade my paper?  I thought I did really well on the exam!"  The other students left the room -- some of them glaring at me and some of them giving me a look of pity.  

I feel terrible that I had let everyone down, but okay that I had done the right thing and allowed the instructor to reassign the papers I was to grade -- and the everything would go okay.  As far as the test results.  But that my fellow students would remember my screw-up for a very long time.  

So what do I do now?

Bd Dream 193 -- Set Me On Fire

In my dream, I am standing on a plot of grass -- quite possibly someone's yard -- along with several young men mid- to late-teens.  I know them, but not all that well, except for my dear friend Zink, who is standing with the rest of the guys.

Parked nearby is a fire engine.

These guys are having some fun that looks horribly dangerous -- taking turns so that everyone can watch the individual action.  The player ignites himself and is burning from head to foot -- and the flames are almost immediately doused by other participants.  

I look on in fascination and horror as this takes place two or three times -- each time with a different person being lit.  

After several sessions of this, some of the guys invite me to participate.  I decline, but I am castigated severely by my friend Zink.  He assures me that there is no pain and that everyone else is doing it.  (I note that none of the previous participants is showing any sign of burning -- either on their skin, their hair, or their hair or their clothing.)

The peer pressure from the group for me to participate increases, and in response -- and also to placate my friend -- I agree to be ignited.

I stand in the right spot and someone comes close to me with a small flame.  I can't tell if it's a lit match, a torch, flare, or some other device.  I was not doused with any liquid that would act as fuel for the fire, but I am suddenly and completely burning all over.  I don't feel any pain, and the flames are quickly extinguished.  I get a brief spate of cheers and applause from the rest of the crowd.

Someone makes the suggestion that I should do this again.  Right now.  I'm a bit puzzled by this suggestion, as no one else has taken a second turn.  But everyone, including Zink, agree that my doing this again would be a good thing.  

What crosses my mind is that, when burning, I am totally dependent on the rest of the group to extinguish the flames.  And it's also clear to me that the only reason that folks are not feeling pain is that the flames are extinguished almost immediately.  And I begin to wonder if I'm being "set up" -- that all that has taken place so far is simply to get me agree to be re-ignited so that I will burn to death. 

I have the feeling that my declining the invitation would not be well received, and that the pressure to participate would show up again -- but more seriously.  I look at my friend, but he seems to be going along with this.  I try to think of a reason that Zink would want to kill me this way, but can't think of anything.  

I am seriously determined not to participate, but don't know how to explain my concerns without accusing the group of trying to murder me.  

I wake up.

Bad Dream 192 -- Getting to the Test Site

In my dream, I am walking along a path.  There are a few trees nearby, but most of the surrounding area is mown grass.  It almost feels like a park.  

I'm working at a controls company and we are about to do a test of a new system while it is still on the company's test floor.  A representative of the customer is here at our facility to confirm that the system works as it should.  

There are five of us walking from one building (headquarters?) to another building where the system is set up and -- we hope -- ready for testing for the customer.

Walking roughly 20 feet in front of me are two people: my supervisor and the engineer who designed the system we are about to test.  They are busily discussing the system and the upcoming test.  

Walking roughly 20 feet behind me are two other company employees.  One of them is a Field Engineer, who will suggest  whatever adjustments are necessary during the test.  And the other is a secretary from the office who will take notes for whatever changes are required and write out the requisite acceptance form for the customer.

I am a Technical Instructor.  I visited the customer's site some time ago and presented a talk about the hardware and software of the proposed system to the maintenance people who will be responsible for keeping the system running effectively.  

I know who is here from the customer's company to oversee the test.  He was a student of mine when I taught the course there and we got along quite well.  So I'm pleased to seeing him again.

I feel a little awkward walking by myself between these two groups, but don't feel I can participate in any meaningful way.  And I might interrupt the conversation in the group ahead -- and the Field Engineer and the Secretary seem to be chatting along quite happily and "two's company, three's a crowd."

We come to a brief rise in the ground, and all five of us are gathered fairly closely for the first time in our walk.  We've been depending on the two guys in the lead to walk us in the right direction, but now they seem confused.  Where is the building that has the system test all set up?  The five of us stand there looking around in all directions, but none of us has any idea where to go from here.  

Bad Dream 191 -- Trying to Get to Calgary

In my dream, I am standing on the sidewalk in a small town in Canada. The sun is getting low in the sky and I have a task to do:

For reasons that aren't explained in the dream, I have to get to Calgary -- which is in western Canada and a considerable distance from where I am now.  

Since the population centers in Canada are mainly in a horizontal line running east to west.  (That is, Montreal, Quebec, Toronto, and so forth.)  Since I know that I am not far into Canada from the USA border, all I have to do is travel west on the biggest road out of town and that should get me to Calgary eventually.  (In real life, this is known as the "Trans-Canada Highway.")

But I am totally unfamiliar with this town, and don't know which direction is west from where I'm standing.  As I look around, I realize that there are several streets that would take me out of town, but they all go in different directions.  There is no easy way to determine which way is west just by looking at the streets.  

I realize that, if I had a GPS, I could easily determine which way to go plus which road would be best to take plus roughly how long it will take to get to Calgary and so forth.  So now my search is for a GPS device in one of the local stores.  None of the stores I see is likely to have such a thing for sale, but I try them out anyway.  Everyone says no, they don't carry such things, and I become more and more distressed about ever getting started on the trip to Calgary.  

Finally one store clerk says, "No we don't carry them, but you can buy one at Fat Ollie's store, which is just a few blocks away."  He gives me some general directions and I start off to find Fat Ollie's.  

Getting back outside, I see that it is almost completely night and realize that the clothing I'm wearing is not going to keep me warm if the temperature drops -- which it's likely to do, since this is Canada.

I wake up.

Later, I realize that at no time in my dream did I ever have or even think about whether I owned a car.  Or could get any other vehicle that might get me the hundreds of miles I would have to go to get from my dream location to Calgary.  I also never considered the GPS function that I have on my cell phone.  

Just details, but they may be important for understanding the dream.

Bad Dream 190 -- Where's My Briefcase?

In my dream, I am back in my childhood home in suburban Baltimore.  I am in the house preparing to leave for an assignment, which is either a presentation for my work or a college-level class.  The dream doesn't make it clear which is the case.  

I'm pretty much ready to go.  All I need to do is retrieve my briefcase, which has documents I will need for this upcoming assignment.

I go to the spot in the house where I normally leave my briefcase and it isn't there.  I can't imagine why not -- I almost always leave it in the same place.  And the time available to get to the assignment is running short, and I really don't want to be late.  

I move around the house looking in each room (which are actual rooms I recall) for my case, with no luck.  As I keep moving, a younger sibling sidles up to me and tells me that Richard -- our older brother -- had taken the case.

I go upstairs to where I think Richard will be and find him lounging on the bed.  He looks up at me, sees that I'm distressed, and gets a smirk on his face.  I explain to him in loud and rapid-fire language the inconvenience that he's causing.  He almost looks apologetic.  Not quite, but almost.  He points to a collection of things against a wall and tells me that the case is in that pile of stuff.  

I go to the pile and examine each and every object, but the case is simply not there.  I look at Richard and tell him that. His face changes and he gets up off the bed and comes over to the pile.  He then assures me that he left it there, and now has no idea who might have taken it or where it got off to.  

I am thoroughly aware that his comments might simply be Richard ratcheting up the prank to a higher level, but there's no way I can be sure whether he's still pranking me or is genuinely unsure what happened to the briefcase.  

He looks as if he's about to start looking for the case himself, but there's no reason I should hang around him when I should simply be continuing the search.

By this time, I am boiling mad and deeply concerned about what my absence at this assignment will mean for me.  The excuse of "I'm late because I couldn't find my briefcase" is just too close to "My dog ate my homework." 

I go back downstairs to repeat my search while trying to think of what else I could be doing to minimize the damage that's being done to me and my career.  

I hear my Dad say softly "Being angry is not going to help."  And I understand that, if I could let the anger go, I might be capable of more rational thoughts and activities, but just then I want to hang onto my anger and frustration.  

Bad Dream 189 -- Spinning Plates

In my dream, I am standing in a field on a nice sunny day.  I have a few friends standing nearby and some other folks a little farther off.  They are visitors to our little gathering.  I am holding a spinning plate in one hand and the appropriate spin stick in the other.  

The deal is that I'm supposed to spin the plate up onto the stick and perform a few tricks to educate(?) impress(?) convince(?) the visitors of my skill with the plate -- but my dream does not inform me as to exactly why I'm doing this.  My friends seem to think it's important, and they are telling the visitors how terrific my skill is with the plate -- "Just wait until he (that is, me) gets this thing going!  It's amazing!"

I toss the plate in the air with a flick of the wrist to give it some initial rotation.  But I misjudge the procedure somehow so that the plate bounces briefly onto the stick and then falls to the ground.

My friends assure our visitors that that happens occasionally.  Not a problem.  Boy, are you going to be impressed!  

I pick up the plate and try again, but the result is the same.  My friends smile weakly at our visitors as I pick the plate up off the ground again.

Third time is not the charm.  Yet another failure.

My friends try to make a joke out of the situation, but it doesn't help much.  The visitors have clearly seen about as much as they need to.

After the fourth failure, the visitors turn and start to walk away.  

One of my friends, Kurt Rheinheimer -- a boyhood best buddy -- walks over to me.  He's quite angry.  Looking straight into my face but talking loudly so that all my friends can hear, he says that I screwed up on purpose.  Why that's the case isn't clear in the dream, but he obviously felt that he had something to gain personally from my success at spinning the plate -- something that now simply wouldn't come to pass. 

At this moment, I become aware of an explanation as to my failures and tell Kurt equally loudly that it made perfect sense for me to fail, given all the pressure I was under as the visitors looked on.  To help make the point, I pick up the plate and successfully spin it on the stick.  I'm not at all sure that my reasoning was honest and true, but it felt good to say.  In fact, I'm pretty sure I just made up the explanation to bring the total event to a conclusion.