Posts from — July 2001

i had a really strange dream this morning. i’m going to try to write what happened here…

it started out in this prison, but it wasn’t actually a prison. i mean… the men were convicts, but it was just an old, word down house. and i don’t recall any guards around. but there must have been because the men were all afraid. they were all older black men, that looked homeless. dressed like bums you see in movies and stuff.
at one point they got something that everyone thought was important and valuable. so valuable, in fact, that they actually called in money. it definitely wasn’t u.s. currency, though. or any national currency, for that matter. all i could tell was that it was some white papers. so several of the men were gathered around on a stained and rotting couch, when a single man came in the front door. he fit in with the others, only he had a hat on. none of the others had hats, that i recall. this man with the hat seemed to be a little more powerful than the rest, because they started scattering away when they saw him. they were all hiding their money away. there was one man, which sort of became me at this point (though i still looked like the homeless black man), that couldn’t find a place to put his money. finally he stuck it in the sleeve of his sport coat. it was pretty suspenseful while the man with the hat strolled up to me. he leaned over and said ‘you’re going to give me some of that, aren’t you?’. i didn’t say anything. some of the other men were scattered around near me, trying not to be noticed.
at this point i was sweating, and scared. but still didn’t say anything. somehow, i managed to move my money from my sleeve to my left pocket without the man with the hat noticing. he sat down next to me, and changed shapes into a scary guy that looked like the undertaker from wwf. now, looking back on this it seems kind of silly. the undertaker? makes me laugh. but in the dream i was very freaked out. i knew this guy was a demon of some sort. so i ran into a little bathroom. there was a small window and a sink and a commode. the porcelain was supposed to be white, but was more of a brownish/tan color.
the next think i know, someone is trying to get in the bathroom with me. so i push on the door and get it locked. then i realize that it’s not the scary undertaker man, but some of the other men. they were trying to get into the bathroom for safety. for some reason, i don’t really know, i opened the door. the men were still trying to push in, but i didn’t let them. not sure why, but i didn’t. maybe i was afraid, because the room was filled with flames. i closed and locked the door again. i began to think of a way to get out, and looked at the window. right then the undertaker appeared right next to me, and said something like ‘i’ll be right back’. then he vanished.
so i jumped out the window….

and turned into a young black girl… about 14 years old. {shrugs shoulders}
i was flying down this hill from the prison house. it was pretty weird, because it was like i was gliding, but i never had to stop. finally i landed, and went into what was my house. my mother was there, preparing dinner. a young girl (though, older than i was) had brought a glass of wine over for my father. my mother put some little glass tube sort of thing in the wine glass, and then a magnetic stirring bar. (i use these in the lab all the time… there’s a magnet that spins around under the container, which pulls the stirring bar around, thus mixing your solution.) the stirring bar was spinning around (despite the fact that it was not on any magnetic base. i wondered about this, but then just went on with things in the dream) and i saw some white power dissolve into the wine. i asked my mother ‘are you poisoning dad?’. she laughed and said no. then we gathered around for dinner… my mother, my father, a few siblings (i think) and myself. i was disturbed about the wine, so i grabbed my dad’s glass before he sat at the table, and i poured the contents into an empty yoplait yogurt container. my plan was to take it to the hospital and have it analyzed, so i would know what was dissolved in it. i couldn’t find the saran wrap, though, to cover it. so i was searching around and yelling out to my mom, asking where the saran wrap was. they were all eating, and not paying much attention to me, so i had to yell several times. just about the time my mom finally told me where it was, i stumbled upon it. so i took some off and put it on my yogurt cup containing my sample. then i got some aluminum foil and put that over the saran wrap.
then i dashed out the door (which was in the kitchen) and crossed the street, sprinting to the hospital.

at this point i woke up. (stupid alarm) but i wanted to know the results, so i forced myself to go back to sleep and keep dreaming. i did keep dreaming.

except it was no longer a young girl running with yoplait wine, it was a group of guys in a car, cruising the neighborhood. the dream gets a little fuzzy at this point. all i remember is that they got into trouble, and knew they couldn’t go home. so they passed right by their house.

then the alarm went off again. this time i got up, because i was so disappointed in this new turn the dream had taken.

it drives me up the wall how people want everything to be all lovey-dovey like a soft fluffy cloud. grrr! what happened to being stern? to severity? to strictness? exactness? oh yeah, it all flew out the window with masculinity.

these days you’re expected to smile at everything, and give everyone a gentle pat on the rear with everything you say.

and i bet even some of you reading this think it’s unchristian to act in a way contrary to this. please be sure to ask yourself why.

Neither Frodo nor Sam refused anything that was offered, nor a second, nor indeed a third helping. The wine coursed in their veins and tired limbs, and they felt glad and easy of heart as they had not done since they left the land of Lothlorien.

this morning megan had an appointment with the OB/GYN. it’s the first one where we didn’t both go. =(

(is the grammar correct in that last sentence?)… boy, that ruined the sad effect of this post.

i may as well explain. today they were testing for gestational diabetes. to do this, they give her some liquid to drink (i can give some details on the flavor and consistency later) and then she has to wait around an hour or so, and then they draw some blood. our usual appointments are about an hour, so we figured this one would be even more than that, and i didn’t want to miss that much work (since i’m going to be leaving early tomorrow to go to the ball! yes, i am excited. but don’t tell anyone, my reputation may be affected)

i feel cool now for using both effect and affect in this post.

Christian Single, Feb 2001 (page 23) Topic: MARRIAGE
Divorce statistics are lowest for those who date for three or more years and marry after the age of 28.

unfortunately, the rate of sexual immorality, depression and “broken hearts” quadruples in those that follow this conventional dating guideline.

for the record, i made up that statistic in italics. it’s only to make a point.

here’s a funny story…

on our way to and from lynchburg, megan and i pass this large baptist church. it happens to be one of those types of churches with a catchy little phrase and announcements on the sign. well… saturday we went to lynchburg to look at some places to live. the sign announced that there were no evening services july 1, and that there was a fair or something going on at liberty. the next day (sunday, july 1) in the morning the sign said something like do not take a vacation from god this summer. and then, last night we went to a picnic and barbecue with people from church in lynchburg, and on our way home the sign said happy 4th of july – no evening service.

i got a good laugh out of all that.