DREAM DIARY
If I remember the dream, it will live on here for everyone to remember.
This website started in June 2001; so after each month a new page will go up & previous ones will be linked here. 
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2002: JAN    FEB    MAR    APR    MAY    JUN    JUL    AUG    SEP    OCT    NOV    DEC
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2007: JAN    FEB    MAR    APR    MAY    JUN    JUL    AUG    SEP    OCT    NOV    DEC
2008: JAN    FEB    MAR    APR    MAY    JUN    JUL    AUG    SEP    OCT    NOV    DEC
2009: JAN    FEB    MAR    APR    MAY    JUN    JUL    AUG    SEP    OCT    NOV    DEC
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2011: JAN    FEB    MAR    APR    MAY    JUN    JUL    AUG    SEP    OCT    NOV    DEC
2012: JAN    FEB    MAR    APR    MAY    JUN    JUL    AUG    SEP    OCT    NOV    DEC
2013: JAN    FEB    MAR    APR    MAY    JUN    JUL    AUG    SEP    OCT    NOV    DEC
2014: JAN    FEB    MAR    APR    MAY    JUN    JUL    AUG    SEP    OCT    NOV    DEC
2015: JAN    FEB    MAR    APR    MAY    JUN    JUL    AUG    SEP    OCT    NOV    DEC

September 01, 2002:
This three-parter seemed to go on for longer than usual for a dream. In the first part, I was outside what I believe to be my childhood home in Juneau AK., and I was messing around with a garden hose in the driveway. The nozzle on the hose was unusual, and you could shoot water 110 feet using it. By putting my finger over the end, it turned into a high pressure wide-angle fan spray, like those water leaf blower gizmos you can buy. It was daytime, the sky was blue and clear, and I was spraying this hose in the air trying to disperse a swarm of little black gnats. I somehow became aware of several other people there, including my dad and maybe some of his friends; and I remember trying to be careful directing the spray so it wouldn't rain down on them while I was shooting at the swarm of bugs.

The next part of the dream happened at night. My dad or someone else had asked me to take the hose and clean up all the wads of chewing gum on our street. I had a lantern-type flashlight with a really big reflector, so I turned that on, got the hose, and started to work. At first I couldn't find any gum wads to spray away, but as I kept walking, I started coming across them. I sprayed the gum using the wide fan spray but that didn't seem to be effective, So I adjusted the nozzle for a super high pressure pinpoint jet, and that started loosening up & spraying away the gum. I came across a larger wad of light blue gum, and started spraying its front edge. It slowly began to lift away, and I noticed the water jet was so strong it was literally beginning to drill right through the asphalt. Once the gum was almost gone, a small hole or crater was visible, and there was what appeared to be the head of a gold or brass nail showing through in the center. After cleaning several more gums up this way, the hose quit spraying. I went back to the house. In the yard was what appeared to be a short bar, and there were several people sitting at it. I told my dad the water was off, and he said something about the bill for this month being so high, it exceeded some kind of usage limit and the water went out automatically. I remember thinking that the water usage limit had nothing to do with the hose, because the volume of water that came out of the nozzle was quite small overall.

The last part of this dream placed me back in the old 611 Tavern here in Seattle. Only I was one of the wait staff, rather than being the bartender as is usual for my bar dreams. The place was *very* packed. I waited around for a bit for my shift to start, then I went up to the waiter's station to collect my starting bank. Some of the customers were already trying to place orders with me, even though I hadn't yet started. The bartender showed up and put two large coins down - this was apparently my bank. I noticed at this time that the bar ashtrays were glass; they were square, shallow, and colored a medium peacock blue. I also noticed there was no tip jar set out. Not that it should have concerned me because I was just a piss-on waiter. So I filled a couple of orders and then went to get a bar towel. For some reason, I didn't think I was supposed to go behind the bar, not even for a bar rag. While I stood at the end of the bar (where one would normally go to get to the area behind this particular bar) there was a guy sitting there who had spilled or sprinkled maybe a teaspoon of his drink on his pants, and then dropped cigarette ashes on that. I gave him the bar rag that mysteriously appeared in my hands at that moment. I woke up soon after.



September 02, 2002:
I was in a large public market not unlike the Pike Place Market here in Seattle. I had to go to the bathroom, so I started looking for a toliet. Below the street level, I found a public restroom with two toliets. A tall drag queen in a gold lame' dress was just starting to leave one stall, and the other was already empty. So I went right to the empty stall, but found somebody had pissed all over the toliet seat and all over most of the toliet paper. The drag queen's stall was now being used by someone else, so I was stuck with this one. Using what little unpissed-on paper there was, I cleaned off the seat and then sat down. Affixed to an empty TP dispenser rod to my left was my pair of Arc-LS flashlights on a keyring. I realised I had left them there the previous day, and I saw evidence that a lot of people had tried to remove them but failed. There were deep grooves cut into the metal TP rod from somebody pulling back and forth on the keychain, apparently hoping to erode through the rod enough to break it. The toliet paper rod was locked into the holder with a small, stiff button at one end, which I firmly pressed and easily freed my flashlights. Still seated on the toliet, I briefly examined them and then stuffed them into my pocket. After sitting on the can for several more minutes and deciding I couldn't "go", I pulled up my pants and exited the stall. At this time I noticed a couple of younger guys in the bathroom. We exchanged a brief conversation, but I can't remember what it was about anymore. It wasn't anything bad, I'm pretty sure of that.

The next part of this dream placed me in the market level of this same place. I was thinking of going to Mom's house, and started to walk there. After a block or two, my legs started to poop out on me, so I went back for my Rascal scooter. When I went back to the public market, I realised my Rascal was broken, but that I had a spare scooter in a box. This scooter was a flimsy little thing, made of tubular metal. It had front wheel direct drive, a rectangular headlight, a bicycle-type seat on a post, and a small 12v flat battery. It was a folding travel scooter, not that different from some of the tiny powered travel scooters you sometimes see in medical equipment catalogues. It was folded into something about the size of a folded electric razor scooter, and it was in a box with several other unknown objects. The headlight came on as soon as the scooter itself was turned on, and I was considering cutting the headlight wire to extend the battery life, though I'd have to partially disassemble the front cowling to get to those wires. At this time I noticed the inside of the transparent control box (part of the front cowling) was full of pink Q-tips, but I didn't see anything odd about that.

I wanted to top off the charge before riding it to Mom's house across town, so I started looking for the charger and all the right cords. One cord went into the scooter (using an IEC plug), one went to one side of the charger, one went to what looked like an old fashioned DEC computer terminal (also equipped with an IEC socket), and the last one plugged into the wall. At this time, I noticed I was located in front of a market seller, so I looked around the immediate area to be sure I wasn't blocking her customer's access to the counter & food displays. I wasn't. Next, I spent a good amount of time fussing with all these cords, plugging some of them into the wrong places before finally getting them all correct. One of the wrong hookups involved plugging the cord going to the wall socket directly into the scooter, but it did no damage; though I did hear a faint sound like a motor slowly winding down after unplugging it. After a short time (with all the cords in the right places), I unplugged everything, unfolded the scooter, turned it on, sat on it, and started to drive away. Then I woke up.



September 07, 2002:
Another bar dream last night. Sure do get a lot of these.
In this one, I was working at my old bar, the 611 in Seattle. It was a fairly busy day, and I spent a lot of time opening beer bottles, making drinks and serving them, and cleaning up after customers as they left. At one point, I remember trying to drain the sinks used for glass washing, and the water was swirling violently but draining only very slowly. I whirled it around with my hand to "help" but that didn't do much but make it spin faster. The water had a pink or pale salmon color to it. I went back to serving drinks for awhile. Then three guys came in, handed me several bills and asked for change. I took the bills to the cash register: a $250 bill (!), a ten, a five, and two ones. I looked for my UV LED "money checker" light all around the register but couldn't find it. So I took a regular flashlight and shined it through the $250 bill from the back to check for the security strip. It was in there, so I started punching keys on the old timey cash register we had. I punched "2-6-7-0-0-NOSALE" on the keys, and the drawer opened with that dinging sound we usually associate with old style cash registers. I pawed through the drawer, but only had a couple of $20s and a few other loose smaller bills available in the till. I gave the guy back his $267 and said "sorry, but I don't have enough of a bank to make change for this". Then I went back to serving drinks. A black guy at the end of the bar whom I recognised as one of my real former customers in the waking world ordered two glasses of loganberry wine. I served one glass (with ice), and set a "marker" next to it as an indicator not to charge him again when he needed a refill. Then I wiped a bunch of cigar or cigarette ashes off the bar a couple of stools down, and then took some empties to the sink. When I looked up at the clock, it read 12:00 noon, and I thought "great, only 7 more hours to go". Sometime shortly thereafter, the dream ended and changed to a new one.

In the next dream, I was in a multiple story building with a number of other people, and an earthquake hit. It was a series of quick up & down heaves, each one followed by a side-to-side movement. Some people were scattering, while others were clinging to doorways and curled up under desks & tables. I was trying to make my way to a doorway, but the movement of the building made that difficult. I looked out a window and saw the scene outside moving grotesquely, as if the building I was in were twisting back and forth. But there was no twisting sensation. After about half a dozen of these up and down heaves, one of the windows blew out. Then it stopped. After it stopped, I saw a TV that was still working, and the news said the quake was a 4.8 on the richter scale. Items like chairs, potted plants, and knick-knacks were strewn all over the floor; delicates like dishes and vases were broken; and there were some cracks in the green-painted walls. The next thing I remember was being out on the street in my wheelchair. Instead of being powered or having traditional hand rims on the wheels, this one had some kind of pedals that I would work with my hands to make it move. There were bricks, broken glass, popped tires, garbage, and other debris from the earthquake littering the street; and nearby was a broken utility pole with its power lines sagging too close for comfort. Judging by the post-style porcelain insulators on it, I'd guess it was a 69KV transmission line. I started "pedaling" the wheelchair to get away from it, but the wheels spun in the debris, and it was hard to get the chair to actually *go* anywhere. After a moment, the wheels finally "caught" and the chair started to move. After arriving in a clearing with several other people, I woke up.



September 07, 2002:
These came off the tail end of my afternoon nap, hence two entries for 09-07.
In one part of the dream, I was on a bus. I remember I brought my bicycle with me, and it was parked near the center exit of the bus, and soon, several other bikes were there with it. My bike had a yellow frame, and I think it was a 10-speed. I also had a large boom box with me, possibly a JVC RC-838JW, RC-M70JW, or RC-550JW. I know it was one of the BIG giant JVC ghetto blasters from the early 80s like I had as a teen, that much I'm sure of. I don't remember playing it loudly, if at all. After awhile, myself and several other people got off the bus and started walking. Then I realised I left my bike on the bus! I said something to one of the other people there, and they suggested I call Metro's lost and found in the morning. Sometime after this, the dream changed...

Now I was driving my electric wheelchair through the halls of my old Junior High school (Marie Drake Jr. High in Juneau AK.). I think school was let out because there weren't very many people left. I drove it down a long hall, and then out through the school's main entrance. Once outside, I started "hot dogging" with my chair, speeding up and then slamming on the brakes; leaving long skid marks. As I approached in intersection near the bottom of a mild, shallow hill, I gave the chair full power, and then the light started to go bad. So I slammed the chair in reverse, causing it (deliberately) to skid and spin until it was facing backward- at which time I jammed it into full forward power to complete the stop a few feet into the intersection and pull back onto the sidewalk where I belonged.

After the light changed back to green, I crossed the street. I noticed a news crew with a camera and a small satellite dish. The letters "NWCN" (Northwest Cable News) were on the dish. As I went past them, they asked me if I wanted to do an interview. I said sure, and then drove about 10 more feet before spinning my chair around to face them, then getting out of it. As the camera guy was setting up his equipment, he said something about the program being broadcast only in Asia and South Africa. There was suddenly a small, open-faced room there - maybe a small construction shack made of plywood with a wide plywood desk inside. There were some maps on the wall and other papers on the table. I said I didn't have cable and probably couldn't watch, but that I had an internet hookup. Then I asked if the video could be seen on a 56K connection.

After the cameraman and audio guy were ready, they had me stand in front of my wheelchair. He was commenting about the color of my hair and said this shot would look really great underwater. So the cameraman said he was going to lower me into water, shoot a quick shot, and then raise me back up. Fine with me. I was dressed in shorts & tennis shoes only, so I didn't have any clothes to take off. The place I was standing smoothly dropped until I was underwater for a few seconds, then lifted back up just like the camera guy said. He mentioned that was a great shot, and I started getting ready to leave. When I turned around, I noticed water all over my wheelchair. That had me worried. I pulled my large camera bag out of the rear basket, put it up to my chest, and gently squeezed - you guessed it, water came out. I set the bag down, unzipped, and removed the large video camera from inside. Water gushed from it. I was asking the NWCN crew if they knew my wheelchair was submerged at the same time I was, and they said yeah they knew. I complained to them that the camera wasn't even mine; it had been borrowed. I never did figure out why they didn't tell me that was going to happen. The dream switched again just after this.

In the last part of the dream, I was inside part of a new building construction. I heard some people "ooing" an "aaahing" at something going on in the next room of the unfinished structure. I looked through the still-unhung door, and saw a white laser dot being shined at the unfinished plywood ceiling about two or three floors up. It was coming from some guys about 1 floor below me standing in front of what I took to be an argon ion laser, even though I knew it was the wrong color. I noticed at times the white laser spot had crimson red edges, as if developing a chromatic abberation. But for the most part, the beam was white. So I pulled out my own green-emitting laser pen, and started chasing the white spot on the ceiling with it. The NWCN crew from the last dream segment showed up again and stood there watching as well. Somebody mentioned what a beautiful shade of green my laser was. I said something to the guys below, "What kind of laser is that, a urine laser?" and they started laughing while repeating the phrase "urine laser" a couple of more times. I said "No, not a urine laser, a dye laser". There was some more laughing from the other laser's owners, while both of our lasers' beams continued to play tag on the ceiling. Right after that, I woke up.



September 13, 2002:
I was in a big house, which I identified as "home" in this dream. I was aware that my dad and 2nd stepmother were in the house. While standing on the large wooden back patio, I saw a point of light moving in the sky about 30° up from the horizon, moving from right to left. I figured it was a satellite, until it started changing direction & speed, then flared a green color a few times. Once the light was well to my left, it reversed direction, then sped WAY up and started flying erratically and looping all over the place. It also brightened dramatically into a brilliant whitish green color. I ran inside and grabbed my digital camera, propped it against the railing, and snapped off some pictures using the LCD screen on the back to frame the pictures. The UFO was flying so fast and erratically, all of the shots just showed some spirograph-like traces. The UFO then flew behind the house where i could no longer see it, so I went inside. Once in the house, I realised the UFO was also in the house: it was fuzzy or hairy kind of like a balled-up bumble bee, and had a whitish green aura around it. It kept flying around my head and neck, occasionally darting off and then returning. I ran down the hall to hide in the bathroom, but there were two oriental woman inside the bathroom drinking tea out of these dainty little teacups. I don't remember anything else.



September 14, 2002:
I dreamt I was shopping at this thrift store. I was going through a circular rack of vintage clothes on hangers, and came across this old, very pale peach colored dress. It was frilly and embellished, almost like a wedding dress; and it had these thin, dark yellow sweat rings under the arms as big as dinner plates. I also noticed the price tag on it had been repeately crossed out and rewritten with lower and lower prices. The last uncrossed out number was $5.99. I shoved it aside and looked at several other garments hanging there, then rolled (in my scooter) to another part of the store. But I kept coming back to that stained dress. After several trips to that rack and to other parts of the store, I took it down and went up to the checkout counter. She rang it up and announced the price was somewhere above $15.00. I said that couldn't have been right because of what the price tag read, but she said something about some strange "extra" fee. Then I had to sign some kind of legal forms. As she was wrapping the dress up she told me to please be very careful with it, take good care of it, and give it a nice big wardrobe to hang in. The way she was acting was as though it were her dress and that she loved & cherished it very much, but that didn't make a lot of sense when it was hanging on a thrift store rack.

The next thing I remember was being in this open area, which seemed to be a very large construcion site. I was in my Rascal scooter, and I had the stained thrift store dress in a plastic container at my feet. The ground was dirt, but it was damp and had been repeatedly run over by heavy machinery so it was quite smooth and driveable. Way off to my left, I saw a long dump truck type vehicle trying to turn around. It looked kind of fake, like it was from the TV show "Bob the Builder". After I was sure it was turning to go the other way, I went to the right and started driving. There was a shallow ditch or depression with small mud puddles at the bottom. I was pretty sure my scooter could traverse this, but when I drove into this depression, the front of the scooter caught and the entire machine flipped over end over teapot. I crawled out from under the machine, then picked it up by the steering arm and righted it. Neither of us seemed worse for wear, except for some mud that got in the control mechanism. The armpit dress, still in its plastic container, was put back on the floorboard, and I took off again. Now I was on Seattle's Capitol Hill, nearing the intersection of Broadway and Roy. My scooter started to malfunction because of the mud inside the control pot. When I let go of the throttle, it kept on moving. After squeezing and releasing the throttle a couple of times, the scooter slowed down. And it did it again, and yet again. Once it was moving really slowly, I could use the upper limit knob to control the scooter; turning it up would allow the scooter to move very slowly, while backing it off would slow it almost to a stop, and allow me to stop it fully with my foot. So I drove about 1/3 of a block this way, and then turned & entered the Elite Tavern. I slowly drove the scooter to the back of the tavern. Somebody mentioned one of my rear wheelie bars was starting to scratch the floor, so I leaned all the way over to the right to allow that side to lift slightly, and continued making my way to the back. Then I woke up.



September 16, 2002:
Only a little piece this time. I was at the old 611 again. It was around noon, and I was somewhere inside the bar but not behind it. I was just about to make my way to the bathroom, and two women walked in together. One was wearing a green sweater, and I can't remember what the other wore. I quickly ran behind the bar, greeted them, and asked what they'd like to drink. One asked for some strange sounding wine cooler, like "Kalto cooler", and the other asked for some other kind of cooler who's name I forgot. Just before I turned to go get the bottles, one of them asked if we had some strange named beer, and I said I'd check. So I walked back to the other end of the bar where the glass-front cooler was, and started looking. I found one bottle of Kalto, a pale, chartreuse green beverage, and it came in a shapely bottle not too unlike a Coke bottle. The top was missing, the mouth was flared out, and there was a wad of cotton stuck in it. So I put that bottle on the next shelf down and kept looking. I couldn't find any more Kalto or the other kind, but the right 2/3 of the top shelf was just loaded with neatly arranged rows of Suave balsam shampoo and conditioner in plastic bottles. I went back for the cotton-stuffed Kalto cooler, and the cotton was gone & the top was sealed, though it was a glass seal, not a bottle cap. I ran back to the other end of the bar, knocking some glasses off the sideboard of the glasswashing sink. They clattered to the floor but didn't break. On the sideboard there were some small glasses, and some large clear coffee mugs with the blue & green Seattle Seahawks logo on them. After I put the wine cooler down and went to get a glass of ice, I noticed the glass rack near the center of the bar (where this was in real life) didn't have any standard bar glasses in it, just coffee mugs, small household glasses, and large silverized tumblers. So I grabbed a silvery glass tumbler, took it to the ice machine (being careful not to step on the several items of glassware on the floor) and filled it with ice.
I woke up before making it back to the front of the bar with the glass.



September 22, 2002:
Only a couple of snippets this time.
In one, I was in a Las Vegas casino. I remember leaving my room, and walking down this hall with glass walls. I ended up in this tiny little room with about 6 or 7 gambling devices in it. There were a couple of one-armed bandits, and some video gaming devices. I put a couple of quarters in one, and lost. So I dug through my pockets and came up with a $50 bill, a $20 bill, and a $10 bill. I put the $50 away and then went to the change machine. This machine was very narrow and tall, like the Rowe bill changers that came out in the late 1980s. When I put the $10 toward the mouth of the machine, the paper glowed blue-white; and I realised it was a phoney. The $20 did the same thing. But I tried anyway, first trying the $20 a few times, turning it over, and trying a few more times. The machine rejected the bill each time. Now I tried the $10. It glowed even brighter than the $20, so it was *really* bogus. The machine spit that out several times, so I turned it over. On the back, there were several red inkstamps, but I can't remember what they read. At this point, I became aware of somebody else in the room, possibly watching me try to feed this funny munny into the changer. But at that same time, the changer accepted the bill! It made some whirring and clunking sounds, and then the change cup started to fill up. First some loose change, then it started spitting out paper bills. I scooped the whole mess into my pocket at once, and noticed no fewer than four $100 bills in the mix, which included loose change and a number of smaller bills. I played one of the video gambling machines a couple of times, then the dream ended. Somewhere in this dream I remember taking two shirts off a store rack or maybe out of the closet in my hotel room, but I don't remember anything else about that. Nor do I remember if this happened before or after the change machine part.

Part of my next dream had me near my home of 10 years ago; the old SHA apartments on 3rd Ave. between James and Yesler. I was on the sidewalk, and something was going on. I remember willing myself to lift off the ground and observe whatever this was from above. I reached for my camera, but didn't have one. So I lowered myself back to the sidewalk and then went into the convenience store next door and started looking for a disposable camera. I found several unlabelled models in a low display near the counter, and I was looking for one that had a flash. Most of these didn't, and then I found one that did. The flash was very tiny; a rectangle about 1/6" high by about 1/2" wide. I asked the clerk how much the cameras were, and he said $30. I asked if he had anything less expensive, and he pulled out a Kodak disposable with flash (this camera looked normal) and said that one was $20. So I bought it, and went back outside. Whatever I had seen before was gone. I flew up around 25' high and looked around, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Then I woke up.




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Contents copyright (C) 2001-2002 Craig S Johnson