I was travelling. we were in a very large plane, widebody maybe. well it was even bigger than that, there were aisles and corridors of people, the corridors themselves very airport-like. lots of the people were young teens, like 12-14 year olds, very exuberant and certain of themselves in life.

I think I was moving to the east coast. Crosby was on the plane too. he was in some forward compartment.

Crosby got loose and as the news spread through the passengers there. many people, especially the older people, were concerned; big vicious Rottweiler shouldn't be loose. I got worried some well-intentioned security thing would do him harm. I started to look for him; he was wandering around forward of me in other compartments.

o, augh, everything started out all jumbled and then it resolved into a clearer storyline...

there was a sequence involving being in a town sort of like Ventura, looking for Maria's (my boss) high school buddies - instead we found a storefront in which our VP was selling authentic hawaiian cuisine - Ellen's Hawaiian Cuisine.

then I was in cubicle land, and everyone's work areas was cordoned off into little rooms. I think I was working at a place that produced computer video games. {Maria and Ellen, who are from my Work in real life, had nothing to do with my Work in this dream} my college friend Naomi worked there too.

all I can remember is that before I could leave in the morning to take care of my Things for the day, I needed to visit, in sequence, all of the Denny's restaurants in the town I was in. I did not know in advance what the required sequence was, but as I went from restaurant to restaurant, the right order and location would become plain to me, just in the nick of time.

i don't remember much of this one - the memory of it came back later in the day, too...

i was on an alien planet. the impression i had was of great antiquity and decay - both geologically and archeologically. there were a lot of arid dead areas, dust, ruins, worn down mountains, etc.

i couldn't tell you if the people there were even human. they used to be spacefaring but i dunno if they still were; perhaps the civilization was too decayed. they were, however, space-aware. i was a visitor - maybe there as either a diplomat or an observer. there was some threat from above - not certain if it was a rival civilization that was still spacefaring or some entity from another planet.

the city was in the mountain, and there was a dry dusty plain to the east and north. then another mountain, with a humongous ruined terraced tower facing back over the plain.

we went in the plain. the ruler was a short darkhaired lady. we took some weapon that was supposed to fire on the threat in orbit above. it hadn't been used in some time. decades? centuries? the knowledge was lost. almost. the ruler had learned enough to fire it.

the tower across the plain, slowly came off the mountain, lurched to the right (from our point of view) and collapsed in a spectacular ponderous roar.

I went to Oxnard and talked to Mary & Danny about getting the house fumigated. there was some problem found in the attic. I decided to put it out of my mind becuase I was on vacation or holiday.

I went with a friend to Olivera Street. as we walked along, to our left was a pavilion covered with a brown tarp. underneath was a young male dog that looked like a weimeriner/english setter mix; he had his tail, and the grey was mottled with brownish spotty markings not unlike an appaloosa horse. he really liked me. he was obviously a stray. I called him Darwin, becuase he was surviving in the streets. he answered to it.

I had to go take care of some work-thing. it wasn't very far from Olivera Street. this involved a project where we were developing a flying car of some sort. we were going to test it. 7 of us piled in this car which looked like a studmobile from the early 80's, that yucky metallic brown color that lots of 70's cars had. then it lifted up like some type of "Free Fall" ride. it zoomed to the top. I was a little dubious. I mean, the car looked like it would be front-heavy. a slingshot-like dealy flung us out into the air.

it was a warm summer afternoon in Hollywood. there were 5 of us hanging out: me, Heather, Tim, and 2 of Tim's friends from out of town. they were a bit offbeat. I didn't catch their names. one of them looked like a twentysomething Detective Munch from the TV show Homicide.

we were comparing cities of origin and found out that Tim's friends were really from Portland, Oregon. that's when we really decided they were freakbiscuits. because, you know, Portland tries to be so crunchy granola and urban sophisticated at the same time.

we decided to get something to eat. Tim ordered this burger thing. it's very difficult to describe without using my hands. anyhow, it was like a stack of successively smaller and smaller whole wheat hamburger buns about 18" high. the bottom one was maybe 8" across, the top one maybe 2.5", all proportioned properly to be hamburger buns. there was no burger-stuff in any of them but the small one on top. the entire thing made Tim very happy.

once you ordered there was like a side bar to the left of the order window and a seating area near by, and Tim's hamburger thing floated along that til we got to our table.

we were in New England, in one of the wilder parts of Maine. actually, it was the Maine Coxswain (the term being used consistently throughout the dream to mean protectorate) which was physically between what is currently the state of Maine and Nova Scotia.

we were walking down a path in a lightly wooded area. the man I was with stated his brother was taking over the entire Coxswain. then he explained further that his brother was an artist and had been painting the local landscapes in incredible detail. since this area was a newer acquisition for the United States it was good someone was doing so. my view in the dream became superimposed with a slighly smaller perspective that only captured the oulines of the hills and the blooming portion of the flowers; the view was like the superimposed automapping function in computer games like Diablo. the man explained that even what I saw was 5000 brushstrokes. so his brother's work was really going to take over.

so, it started out, that we were preparing for burning man. we had some sort of camper van and I borrowed Karine's vacuum cleaner attachments becuase they were really needed. we went to the desert and it was scrub desert (not playa). the camp was small but permament,, sort of like you'd expect trailer folks to be living in.

I came back and forgot the vacuum cleaner attachments. Karine was displeased and I had to go back to get them.

it was the middle of the night and I went to work because I forgot something or maybe it was tied to picking up the vacuum cleaner attachments. there were a lot of people there! apparently there was a change of ownership. we were going to set up in the desert. people were moving around and the place was getting reorganized. some, not many, people were leaving (involuntarily). my office was staying the same (but in my dream it was oriented east instead of north).

for whatever reason, the dream had to flash back to the little girl's childhood. and all the adults were standing around watching, shaking their heads. the little girl was a trmendous klutz, but like the rest of her family showed an aptitude for horse training. since she was so little the parents had decided to demonstrate this to the neighbours by taking her out and having her run a dog through its paces.

the location was on a flat green space next to a creek. across the creek was a wooded area much like the flora in the yosemite area. the little girl was stumbling but sort of shone as she took the german shepherd mix through a series of gaits more properly demonstrated on a horse.

I was in a class, or attending a seminar, on the top floor of s 4-5 story white building. the atmosphere was very informal and I knew a lot of the people there. the conference room we were in only really had 3 walls and where the 4th wall should have been it opened up to a hallway with some roof supports marking the edge of the room. the carpet/decor was dingy brown sort of like the carpeting etc on the older BART cars.

the meeting broke up and we were gossiping. I knew everyone there because I used to work with them; so we started gossiping about absent people. someone was pregnant and the rumor was she would name the kid Orlando regardless of gender. I said, "well better than Armando" and we all laughed in that viscious catty way and started talking about Armando that I knew in college, who had the big hair, and how part of his problem was that he was stuck with that name. then it flashed on me that the name really did drive a lot of his obnoxiousness.

there was a security camera in a corner of the room, near the front; the corner to the left of where a podium would be, the same wall which wasn't a wall. all our laughing had some sort of shrill quality to it from nervousness about the camera.

while this dream was a continuous stream of images, I only recall a couple or three "scenes", sort of like a bad movie that still has some gems in it.

one scene involved a situation where there was some sort of urban conflict. it felt like a protest gone bad or some other kind of insurrection in the name of some cause. each side had command posts and had taken prisoners. I was on the "protesters" side. our command post was in an old gas station on the northwest corner of an intersection and the prisoners were kept in the public bathroom in a trailer in the lot just north of the gas station. we left them all together and took turns guarding the trailer and hoped they would say something of importance. sometimes they spoke german.

my dream last night was pretty fragmentary but vivid. it started with a backdrop. we had just completed some sort of shakedown cruise in a low-orbit shuttle. the crew was a mixture of military and civilian. part of the crew was some sort of special ops team that I think was intelligence-gathering. not sure. they were led by joel mckelvey, who had long hair.

we had been in space just long enough to cease the zero-gee awkwardness. now it was time for a team to descend back to the ground and do something, which was unclear to me. the team was chosen by a computer using factors unknown enough to the crew that it might as well be random. I remember as tiny display with our names and white-and-tan columns with what looked like 2-byte telemetry data written in a microsoft system font. Ss 09 fF (etc). all of these were decision points, data the computer had gathered on us during the shakedown.

the computer chose the team. I was on it although I really didn't feel up to speed. I can't remember who else was on it. we descended. not sure how on that either.

I dozed off this morning after the alarm - and dreamed that I leased a white BMW 5i for $153/month. the lease paperwork looked exactly like the print with the fine print on a TV commercial.

I dreamed that it was decided at work we were in need on some extra training on the basics. so, Vadim organized training sessions, mandatory for everyone, on spam handling technique. some girl from the BLOC with medium length straight black hair, and Natasha, were conducting them. Matt was also involved in some technical way.

the class was held during the evening, in some room in a high school or community college with those desks that are like attached to the chairs. we were gathering and gossiping like you would expect in a group of people changing from a work-task and gathering for a class. the dark haired girl was to be conducting the class first but there appeared to be a problem. for her part of the class she needed some mechanical contraption that was on the back of one of those kind of work-trucks you see carrying junk from construction areas and with a rickety frame on a flat bed. the truck was running fine but the contraption was not. finally, right before the class was to begin, a tow truck came and took it away.

I only remember a single scene from my dream, but that scene was pretty vivid.

I was walking along a row of smallish houses in a neighbourhood that was really green. you know, green like it gets a lot of rain, like in the South or in Ireland or something. the houses were not in neat rows like California suburbia but more like scattered around like in older areas.

Heather was walking ahead of me, and she got to one house and was talking with someone there. they were too far ahead to see who it was. as I walked closer, I realized it was Matthew Kaufman. I didn't recognize him at a distance becuase he was wearing light (white? off-white?) coloured pants like Gap khaki-style, and a white polo/golf shirt with a fat dark blue stripe across the chest.

his hair was abotu 3/4" long and he was wearing his glasses - in otherwords, he looked just like Matthew, except for the shirt. and, of course, that he was talking to Heather.

weird. I was very confused.

I was living in a crowded house (flat? loft?) with a bunch of other people. I had a room which I split with another person and they were moving out for whatever reason.

the house had my dog (a big rottweiler) and some small beagle-sized dog. which was mostly white with reddish brown markings and totally totally fat. neither dog could really navigate around the house or down the hall without knocking something over.

we were trying to get me another roommate and this girl Cathi was getting "interviewed" (if that's how you want to characterize the process). she was hanging out and we were watching TV with no lights on and I can't recall if we were drinking or whatnot but that is just a detail. it was cold.

I dreamed we were travelling, and were staying in unique older hotels. in los angeles, we ended up staying in Disneyland's Haunted House, which was really a funky hotel behind the scenes set up for the ride. it was 5 or 6 stories and and had a weird old elevator that I had to ride.

we were staying on the 4th floor. I couldn't figure out the buttons because the layout was so weird - there were a lot of gas/propane controls on there too (that was how that elevator was powered). basically all the mechanisms that made the elevator move, including fuel tanks, were on the inside and the people rode the outside. it was round, and had no walls, like an old freight elevator. I set off some alarm and someone had to come to shut it off and figure out where the "4" was. finally, it started to move.

as it went up I realized that the only things I could hang on to were the gas lines. I thought it would be no big deal as elevators only move up and down. then it started some circular movement to the side. even though the change was slight, this meant I had to hold on or I would fly off. it was very scary but I was fine.

I was walking down a street in San Francisco, and talking politics with a friend. my friend pointed out how the government had totally played up the rôle of Jews in Northern Ireland. my reply was how stupid was that, there are no Jews in Ireland.

there was a line of people in the middle of the street leading up to an intersection. this lady was there with her friend. the lady was really short with greying hair and a broad face. she got really offended at my remark and took me to task. turns out her name was Susan Stallings and she was Jewish and had been living in Ireland lo these many years. She was the author of some occasional column in the Los Angeles Times Op-Ed section. She showed me some of the article references on the web.

I was part of some group, no, I working with them, that did covert military ops. they were all skilled in one-to-one unarmed combat and despite formal military rank, they ranked themselves according to the outcomes of frequent combat contests. one of the guys in the group was Dave Cowings from my work.

we were in a field outside of a town. I was with a friend and we had to work with these folks. they were regarded by the likes of us as kinda crazy. to get to where they were I had to cross a little bridge over a gully that cut through the fields. then the camp was to the left. to get from where they were to the town, one had to jump in the air, do some sort of a spin, and then when hitting the ground spinning one would then have the power to tunnel through to the town.

our mission had to do with determining the whereabouts of Armando Hasafat. Armando Hasafat was some like Turkish dude who was a big-bad-guy but I dunno why. like number 3 dude with whoever the bad guys were. apparently it was not clear if our government had captured and were holding him, or if he was sick with syphilis or some other horrible disease and in a hospital in the town, or if he was at large.

we went into town and took some pictures of this Turkish guy with a mustache that we were sure was him. meanwhile another team also took, the same days, some picture of him back in Washington or some other big American city. so nobody knew what to think.

back in the camp, because the ops for this town were done, everyone was starting to celebrate, which of course meant that they were doing the combat challenges. I was not a part of it but it was hard to resist. I kept acting like an asshole just to see if I would be drawn into the fighting. the actual formal contests were on the "near" side of the field - i.e. not across the little bridge, and to the right of the footroad leading to the bridge.