I woke up in an elegant, yet run down little hotel room somewhere in Europe or South America. My room was in the basement, and I headed out to the semi-public bathroom. As I sat on the toilet, I studied my surroundings: an irregular white board was nailed to the wall running towards me on the left, and it was too long so it stuck out into the corridor in front of me. I briefly wondered what horrible damage or stains it was covering up, but then thought it better to think of more pleasant things. The large white tiles on the floor were chipped here and there, and the grout was a deep moldy black. Even so, the ornate shelves on the wall and the native decorations and curios gave the place a gentle charm. It was then that I noticed with some alarm a waitress standing at the far end of the hallway, and beyond her an open air kitchen: everyone could see in! Fortunately, I was wearing a towel, but when I stood up and headed out, I realized even the front part of the bathroom was completely open to the lobby. I quickly changed, as I had brought my suitcase in there, and walked briskly out, only pausing to notice a standalone bathtub filled with a dark brown liquid.

I was happy to be out with the other guests in the lobby, which had a reddish-brownish elegance of wood-paneled walls and plush carpeting. I wanted to join for breakfast, and wandered from table to table, wondering which ones were being served. There was a broad table against one wall, with two computers on one end and several menus across the rest of it. Stately semicircular chairs were tucked in, looking inviting, but I was too worried that it wasn't a true breakfast table. So I headed for the doors. Soon, I was in a large college cafeteria-like room, and I went to the buffet. I grabbed three plates: sliced pork, bacon, and pork rinds. I brought the first two plates and sat down with Fernando, who I haven't seen in years. Apparently, he had become a vegetarian and teased me about how unhealthy I was being. I went back for the last plate, and while I was getting up, Fernando called out to a blonde woman who was walking down the aisle, "Hey, your sister is amazing!" Turns out her sister is a major pop star in Europe (although Fernando is Peruvian). She smiled, then sat down at a nearby table. When I got back with my third plate, Fernando asked me if he should go over and sit down with her. I encouraged him, but first I tried a few bites of my food. For the first time in a long time in a dream, I actually ate buffet food: the sliced pork was rubbery and bland, and almost made me puke. The bacon was a little better, at least it was crispy if tasteless. Just then Fernando did what he asked, and so did several other people from the room. Oddly, as she was chatting to all of them, her pop star sister walked past and was only briefly cheered by her fans. I guessed they thought they had a better chance of spending time with her sister. I wanted to go over and tell her not to worry about Fernando since he's gay, but she didn't looked distressed so I let them be.

I headed back to my room. A maid told me that my manuscript was back from review, but not their comments. I excitedly grabbed the large beat-up white binder and fleetingly thought how odd it was that I had delivered it in a blue binder only for them to change it to this. I excitedly took the papers off the binder rings and started pulling the sheets up one by one against my chest, looking for something interesting. There were yellow highlights virtually everywhere, and my heart sank. The first set of scribbled comments were on the references list, and said things like "Wrong reference!" or "This is outdated!" I felt sad but determined.

posted by Larry at 8:57 AM

I was out with a large group of friends, maybe a dozen or so, eating at a trendy new place. Ordering happened very quickly and confusingly, so I didn't know exactly what I was expecting. Everyone had rather exotic dishes, but when mine was dropped off, everyone oohed and aahed: someone asked, "are those... fried bees?" I proudly answered yes, glad to show off my adventurous side. It was an enormous square plate, with a huge bed of dirty rice supporting scattered, well, fried bees of various shapes and sizes. Just as I was working my way up to grabbing one of the medium sized ones, there was movement. Suddenly, half my plate buzzed and bees began taking off randomly, fried batter and all. Everyone else giggled politely, and began reaching in and popping bees into their mouths. It looked like they were enjoying it, but every time I went for a still one, a few big ones would wake up and zip out in front of me. I also saw increasingly large insects as I turned the plate around, with a giant red (battered) beetle on the corner. I was losing my nerve. The guy next to me, a skinny, long-haired hippie type who was enjoying several at a time, told me to just go for it. I noticed a huge insect, maybe a grasshopper, that took up the entire side of the dish, which really made me lose my appetite. But I was determined. Next to that was what actually looked like a jumbo shrimp, so that was my candidate for edibility. Just as I was about to touch it, it moved. My hippie friend chuckled and sliced into it with his butter knife, revealing the green mushy entrails and severing it completely in half. It kept swimming up and around, as if the plate had become an aquarium. I waited for it to die, but eventually I just felt sorry for it and gave up on eating anything.

As I headed out, I had to cross through a crowd of shady-looking people. I kept my hands at my side, to block pickpockets and to constantly feel for my wallet. Sure enough, I got the old bump-and-excuse-me, and I immediately felt that my phone was gone. I confronted the guy and he said he didn't know what I was talking about. I pushed him, while at the same time questioning whether it was worth it for me if he turned violent. But just then, a couple other people came at him too, realizing they had also lost their phones. He began stammering that it was just a misunderstanding, and he pulled a couple phones out of his pockets. One looked melted and flattened, which he tried to push on me. But I recognized and grabbed my Blackberry from his other hand. I put on a macho front as I threatened him and walked off, but I felt nothing but nervous relief that it had gone so well.

Soon after, I was back in my dorm room, once again starting my senior year of college. It must have been orientation week, and some of the people at the lunch were probably incoming freshman in my dorm. I had with me an electronic book: not an iPad, but a physical book that had buttons at strategic places all around. There was some kind of Skype connection set up, as I could hear all 40+ dorm members chattering at once. The resident head called for order, and we began to run through the standard welcoming and so on. On the sheet I was turned to, on yellow lined paper, were the names of about 30 various jobs and positions. That day, we were voting on half a dozen, and they had buttons next to them. Everyone had one of these electronic books, and whoever wanted the position we were talking about could push the corresponding button and we would vote on them. Once someone nominated themselves, it had to reach 36 votes to be validated. A small narrow screen showed at the top with the person's name and vote count. I desperately wanted the president or vice-president positions, but was too slow each time and someone else got there first. Even the treasurer was taken quickly, and I began to scan the remaining slots. They were strange names, like "water" and "honey." For some reason, I knew the honey position meant having to deal with the fried bees that had gotten loose, so I let that one go. When water came up, I was ready with my thumb on the button. I was in! But after a few seconds, I still had zero votes. Nervously, I flipped the pages to find the speaking button, but couldn't see it all the way to the back. Finally, I saw listen and talk buttons at the bottom edge, and quickly pushed talk to plead my case. But it was too late, a freshman had buzzed in and now it was a race. Only, he zoomed up to 90 while I didn't get a single vote. I was dejected, but had rather expected it as well (something similar but far less dramatic had happened in real life), so I forgot about it quickly.

I went outside to the common area of our unit to find my roommates, Mike and Tim from high school. A huge family of maybe 20 black kids were watching TV in the living room, with Mike sitting at the front and Tim to the side on rows of folding chairs and a couple sofas. The kids' mother was in the kitchen, making cookies, and looked a bit like Aunt Jemima (complete with the handkerchief on her head). I remembered that for the summer, we were trying to split our costs, so we let the family move in. They were watching football, and an amazing play was developing. The running back had hit the wall of defensemen and bounced off, then had broken a solid tackle. Another push knocked him down, and players slowed down to start the next play. But no one had touched him on the ground, so the ball was still live. He jumped up, ran to the sidelines while the announcer shouted hysterically, was tackled at the one yard line, and somersaulted in for the touchdown. As he rolled in, I  saw that his jersey said Bears at the bottom, and I'm huge fan so I jumped up in joy. But then he stood up and it said "New Orleans" on top, complete with black and gold colors. That's when I realized it was the Arena Football League, and I dropped back down into my chair. By this time, Mike and Tim had turned into Kai and Seol, my actual college buddies, and they had brought their friends over for the game. Now, at the front of the room were a jazz band with the dad of the family on guitar, the young aunt singing, and the cool-cat uncle with the beret playing drums. The dad started to kick out some awesome guitar solos, and I really dug the singing/rapping, kind of like the Digable Planets. But it was a short song, just to please the kids, and we were soon filing outside for dinner.

I was hoping to find some of the freshman to get to know them better, so I got split off from the roommates. I wandered about town and tried to locate people through the book, but with no luck. Finally, I called Kai but got no answer. I tried Seol and it went to voice mail. I was just about to hang up when I heard his voice. I quickly asked him where they were, and he said on Harris St by the stadiums. He mentioned that his light was green, which apparently indicated that my phone was within range and that I must be close by. I ran ahead and found that the next intersection was Harris, and took a left towards the only stadium I knew. I passed several clubs/restaurants that had lines of nerdy people waiting outside, but I didn't recognize any of them. I finally reached the stadium, which loomed, darkened, over the street and which looked run-down and maybe even bombed-out. But I didn't see Kai or Seol anywhere, or even anyone at all. Nervous, since it was late at night, I started to run past the stadium, hoping there were more restaurants ahead. I actually galloped, on all fours, and sped by to the faraway intersection. After I passed a few houses, the sidewalk and road ended, leading to a broad sandy area. I walked cautiously forward, and looked around corners. There were five or six buildings or houses, spaced far apart from each other and clearly abandoned for years. It looked like the apocalypse had happened out here. The rolling sands stretched out in all directions, with Lake Michigan the only border on my right. I turned back and called Seol again. As I reached the stadium once more, the call went to voice mail and I hesitantly waited. He answered again, and I saw the green light on my own phone. He said he was just across the street, and suddenly he appeared nearby along with a basement-restaurant and a thin crowd out front. As I followed him down a slope to the entrance, he spoke Korean and I turned to see his friend next to Kai and his two friends. I had hoped to just have a meal with my two friends who I hadn't seen in forever, but still welcomed the chance to meet new people. As we headed in to be seated, I woke up.

posted by Larry at 10:05 AM

Dream 1:

I was in a large, fancy hotel with my family somewhere in Asia. We were sitting around our smallish room, relaxing and deciding where to have dinner. The entire hotel had a deep red motif, and our room had a large window looking out over the city. In a quick flash, the entire outside turned a deep blackish purple, streaked with slivers of lightning. My dad whipped around to see it and immediately shouted for us to run. We all knew it was a massive tornado, and I could see the clouds curdling towards us. We dashed outside towards the elevators, but the entire hotel began tilting over at an alarming rate! I felt true panic and terror at my last moments alive.

Then, I experienced a sudden flash of knowledge, maybe a memory and a whisper. I somehow knew that if I blinked my eyes twice, I could shift time back a few seconds. Doing so in a panic, I only managed to set it back about a second, so that the hotel was still tilting, but at a lesser angle. Somehow, none of the people were sent back in time, so my family could all make it onto the elevator. I kept blinking, but had to do it in a controlled, rhythmic fashion or else it wouldn't work. Very difficult. The elevator lurched with every time shift and kept getting stuck at various floors, probably as other people tried to get downstairs. With a huge flood of relief, we reached the lobby and flopped down into seats. Somehow, it had stopped and we were safe.

Dream 2:

Lynda sent me over to a collaborator to help verify certain data. I had to be flown by helicopter by my collaborator, a skinny bearded guy named Frank, over to an island (Merry and I have been watching Lost every night). We immediately got off on the wrong foot as he was irritated by all the questions I was asking him. We set up at a classroom that was part of a series of tunnels into a mountain, and started some experiments. I think we were trying to verify some anti-MITF drug results by using RNAi knockdown. I ran some RTPCRs to look at expression levels of genes that Lynda and the collaborator had previously found to be important targets. But I kept getting negative results, including finding genes that changed in the opposite direction of what was seen earlier. As Frank and I were discussing the results, I could see he was getting really angry at me for contradicting his data and for being stubborn. I suddenly decided that I didn't want to be in the classroom anymore and blurted it out.

The next thing I knew, I was back on the helicopter, tied up and headed back to the mainland. I pleaded with Frank to take me back so I could finish the collaboration, but he ignored my questions and kept being sarcastic to me. I didn't want to leave the island yet, I had only wanted to abandon that part of the project. I slowly realized as I played things back in my head that what pissed Frank off was that I had kept making decisions like that without asking him first. I tried to promise that I would be more collaborative, but within a few seconds I was back in my room.

The place looked like a medieval castle, but with modern amenities. It was something of a prison, and I could see scratchings of former captives on the walls and floors. My roommate tried to help me as I sat down at the computer, intent on emailing Frank and asking him exactly what I had done wrong. I wrote a quick draft, listing three things that I could have done to make him mad. After reading it over several times, I realized I was pointlessly including dummy reasons and that the one I had thought of earlier - making sudden, unilateral decisions - was the real one. I started to erase what I had written, when the entire place rumbled and shook. My roommate and I went over to my small circular bedroom, which had now sunk down about 20 feet. I could see a ring of emptiness around my bed, so I got on the bed and peered down over the edges. I could see glittering lights shining through a message that I seen earlier scratched into the floor. My roommate and I got down and pushed on a square metal inset where the message was, and it gave way. We could see an immense hoard of treasure below us. Right then, we could hear police sirens outside, and our joy turned to apprehension. They would think we had stolen it

posted by Larry at 10:00 AM