• Linker Dreams

    • Because you just can't get enough of us. Well, here's more for you Linker addicts. Franklin and I have decided to keep track of our dreams online where anyone can see them. It's frightening, I know. We just want to share. Please feel free to use the comments section for psychoanalysis.
  • Recent Posts

  • Recent Comments

    • DALIA: needed a good laugh so i hunted this story down again. hope youll still have a hoity toity outfit for special...
    • Gooberdoober: I thought the weird thing was you. Actually, the weird thing is probably people will pour over this in...
    • Sinora: very true to life, this dream! I do have weird clothes and wonky teeth! he he xx
    • Jen: I laughed so hard on this one!
    • imp: got pics of that outfit? sounds cute. ;P=

Archive for November, 2004

The Black Panthers

Posted by Ree on November 28th, 2004

I was getting the car fixed, and I looked down at the carwash part of the auto garage, and there was a beautiful black panther with a handler and a trainer. I thought to myself, “what is a panther doing here?” I’m not sure what the handler (a man) and the trainer (a woman) were trying to accomplish, but suddenly the panther got upset, and fast as a bolt of lightening, she went for the trainer. The trainer couldn’t get out of the way in time, and got a major scratch on her leg (she was wearing shorts). Finally the cat started to calm down a little, but not completely, and the handler and trainer tried again to do whatever it was they were trying to do (it involved one of those squeegie things you clean a windshield with, which they were applying to her face. I’d have bit them too.) She freaked again, and lashed out to no avail. Finally I went down to check them out - I wanted to see that cat up close. She was still upset, but didn’t go for me, and while I was down there, the trainer and handler finished whatever it was they were doing.

Then I was at home (sort of our house in Monroe) and the doorbell rang. At the door was a very cute black kid. His father was right behind him hanging out the car window. The kid was collecting money for a politician. I asked what the politician’s platform was, and the kid handed me a well worn cassette tape with a piece of paper on it. The paper listed the politician’s stance on issues, and as I started to read the points, I thought about the 20 dollar bills I have in my wallet. But the points didn’t make any sense. They were valid issues, but so not important compared to the things going on in the world today that they seemed rediculous. I looked up at the dad, and suddenly understood that he didn’t expect me to donate money because I wasn’t black, and obviously wouldn’t understand or support the candidate. The boy didn’t seem too disappointed when I told him “no thanks.”

I came home to the Dilworth house. I hadn’t seen Bev in a long time, and I spied her in the kitchen, and ran in to say hello. Too late I realized that the kitchen was full of people. Anyway, whatever was going on in there stopped, and Bev politely greeted me. It was clear they (Bev and Dad) wanted me to stay for whatever meeting it was they were having. The meeting was so weird. It was supposedly some kind of tea based on a mother goose rhyme. I found it disturbing that Dad and Bev would participate in this, much less have it in their house. I thought I would escape to my room, but when I got up there I discovered that part of their evening’s entertainment was in my room. It was some kind of giant game house that you went through. Somehow it involved the panther from the carwash - and I didn’t think it was fair to her.

to decorate a room

Posted by Ree on November 27th, 2004

Franklin and I were preparing to move into a small bedroom. The girl who was living there was moving out when she made aliyah, and it was taking her forever to vacate the premesis. Chuck and I were brainstorming about how to paint the room. We talked about painting a giant mural of an outdoor scene, but in the end decided to paint each wall a different bright color, with a dark brown wall to anchor it.

Feast Dream #382

Posted by Ree on November 11th, 2004

I was at a christian conference that was neither the feast nor anything that I was remotely involved in/responsible for. I was walking around in the halllway, and some smartly dressed man with a large breifcase and an entourage spotted me and said “oh, there you are. listen, I need you to come home with me, edit this document” (waving a piece of paper at me) “and when you’re done, I’ll bring you back.” I told him no way was I going to go home with him, and if he wanted my help, I’d be happy to help him right there at the convention center. So he took me (and his entourage) to a quiet corner, and began unpacking his breifcase. He was pulling out some major audio/visual equipment (how did it all fit in there?). Finally he had things set up to his liking, and explained to me that he had to show me the project he was working on before I could help him. It turned out to be an animated short movie - a very violent and bloody animated movie. And suddenly it wasn’t just a movie, it was actually happening - right there in the convention center. People were running willy-nilly, being shot, there was blood everywhere. It didn’t feel scary though, it felt like being in a movie, nothing felt real or permanent. The dream ended when the bigwig who started all this mess was shot in the throat. I caught him in my arms, and was rubbing his back and telling him that everything was going to be alright. And I was pretty convinced that he wasn’t going to die from his wound.

mid-life crisis

Posted by Ree on November 9th, 2004

I had a dream that I went to summer camp, but I was too old for the young kids, and too young for the old kids. And we made pancakes in the middle of the night.

At the mall with my pink bulldog

Posted by site admin on November 8th, 2004

I was in the Malcha Mall with my hot pink bulldog. She somehow got away from me, and ran down a flight of stairs. I began chasing her, calling out her name (which I don’t remember), but she never even looked back. No matter how many flights of stairs I ran down, I could always just see her one level below me. Bad dog! It was a very stressful dream.