I dreamed I was CSI Calleigh Duquesne, which was awesome to start with. So I went to treat myself to dinner at a super fancy buffet on Canal Street. The host who seated me was pretty attractive, so I asked if he'd join me for drinks when he was done with work. Turned out he was the owner.
We went for drinks, but as we were sitting at the bar, I received a cryptic note, which I couldn't make any sense of, but it was kind of threatening, and he recognized the handwriting as that of some mystery person who was stalking him. So he insisted I not go home, or the person might follow me and learn where I lived.
He put me up in a hotel room in the hotel attached to his restaurant. For such a nice place, it was kind of a crummy room, with the shower in a corner above the toilet. But it had a patio that looked over a grassy coastal field with palm trees and the whitewashed walls of a convent. Every morning, a flock of bright green and red parrots would flap down from the walls and waddle penguin style around the field eating grasshoppers.
After watching them for a while, I decided it was time to get to work, so I went out to the parking garage, where I found that my car had been flipped out off the second level, and was lying upside down and totaled on the ground below. But my CSI team was already on the scene. I couldn’t work it, of course, because I was too close to the case, but also because whoever had done it had stolen my kit and plastered the car with my own evidence tags.
It was determined that only a robot could have flipped the car. A fingerprint on one of the tags led us to a dance instructor and choreographer for a show at Harrah's that featured dancers and little rolly robots that she had both designed and programmed. In her studio, the team discovered the larger version that had flipped my car.
Turns out she had had a fling with the restaurant owner and, unbeknownst to him, gotten pregnant. She'd had an ectopic pregnancy, which she had to abort, and the procedure had caused some damage so that she'd never be able to have children. She went to court, pled guilty, got a light sentence, and I woke up.
Thursday, June 16, 2016
Sunday, June 12, 2016
Saving the World is Hard ~ 6/12/2016
I dreamed I was helping to save three Islamic women who were under attack. We jumped into my jeep, and I was speeding around trying to get them to sanctuary while guided missiles were following right behind us, ready to blow us up. I was dodging in and out of ziggurats on the desert at sunset, with the missiles just on my tail, but I finally managed to lose them and get over the border into the safe zone.
After I left to go home, I stumbled into the zombie apocalypse. There was some sort of infection that, if the carriers bit you, your flesh slowly dissolved away and you became an animate skeleton. The team I joined was using pitchforks with long handles to spear the infected bone people and hurl them into a big bonfire. And keep them there, because burning them to final death took time.
Eventually the fire was dying down and it became evident that we were fighting a losing battle. One after another we became infected, and there just weren't enough uncontaminated people on the team to deal with the sick ones. One by one we fell to the disease, and soon we were all walking piles of bone. And we realized it actually wasn't that bad. What had seemed so scary was just another form of consious life, and we began to feel horrible about all the people we'd thrown into the fire just for being different. Especially since, given time, the condition reversed itself, and we were all normal humans again.
To work off my guilt, I became a detective. I was given a commission by a wealthy man to go inspect his mansion while he was away, because he thought someone was trying to take it from him. When I got there with my partner, there were three or for ruffians lounging around in the upper floors, so we called our client, but he said not to worry about them, but to check for some very specific signs.
Was the house keeper keeping the antique firearms clean, but was she obviously unaware of what they actually were? Yes. They were sparkling clean, but in several pieces that she couldn't even put back in the hidden wall cases correctly.
Were there three polished pebbles in the right hand drawer of the desk in the study? Yes, there were.
Were there any loose paving stones? Here we needed clarification. Did he mean the path outside, leading up to the main front door? Or did he mean in the gardens? The tiles around the pool? The slate floor of the kitchen? He said to check them all. And in every single place, every single stone and tile was loose. Uh oh! But then I woke up.
After I left to go home, I stumbled into the zombie apocalypse. There was some sort of infection that, if the carriers bit you, your flesh slowly dissolved away and you became an animate skeleton. The team I joined was using pitchforks with long handles to spear the infected bone people and hurl them into a big bonfire. And keep them there, because burning them to final death took time.
Eventually the fire was dying down and it became evident that we were fighting a losing battle. One after another we became infected, and there just weren't enough uncontaminated people on the team to deal with the sick ones. One by one we fell to the disease, and soon we were all walking piles of bone. And we realized it actually wasn't that bad. What had seemed so scary was just another form of consious life, and we began to feel horrible about all the people we'd thrown into the fire just for being different. Especially since, given time, the condition reversed itself, and we were all normal humans again.
To work off my guilt, I became a detective. I was given a commission by a wealthy man to go inspect his mansion while he was away, because he thought someone was trying to take it from him. When I got there with my partner, there were three or for ruffians lounging around in the upper floors, so we called our client, but he said not to worry about them, but to check for some very specific signs.
Was the house keeper keeping the antique firearms clean, but was she obviously unaware of what they actually were? Yes. They were sparkling clean, but in several pieces that she couldn't even put back in the hidden wall cases correctly.
Were there three polished pebbles in the right hand drawer of the desk in the study? Yes, there were.
Were there any loose paving stones? Here we needed clarification. Did he mean the path outside, leading up to the main front door? Or did he mean in the gardens? The tiles around the pool? The slate floor of the kitchen? He said to check them all. And in every single place, every single stone and tile was loose. Uh oh! But then I woke up.
Thursday, June 9, 2016
Weirdest High School Reunion Ever ~ 6/9/2016
I dreamed I was headed to my 20 year high school reunion. I hitched a ride on a space ship shaped like a VW microbus, only bigger, with dark brown sides and a white top. Among the travelers I joined was a very pale, sickly baby. He was the sweetest little child, but so quiet, and everyone knew he wouldn't live long. As I held him, the baby died. I began crying, and I placed him very gently back in his car seat. We were all silent as the millions of miles flowed past us.
We landed near the site of my reunion, and suddenly heard the baby laughing. He had come back to life, after being cold and stiff for hours! It was a miracle! I hopped out of the bus incredibly happy, and saw my father, who was helping set up the reunion. I told him the story as we walked to my old high school, where the party would be. Only the school had fallen into ruins. No one seemed to mind, though.
One of the guys in my class asked me if I was ready to dance with him that night, and I realized I'd lost my cowboy boots somewhere along the way. My dad had some bright yellow rain boots in his trunk, so I put those on instead. And started milling around the party guests, looking for old friends. I talked to a few, then I had to use the restroom, so I went looking for that.
There were still toilets in the old restroom, but more than half of the stalls had been demolished, and the ones that were left didn't have doors. There were a lot of anxious women and girls milling around trying to figure out how to pee in private when everyone at the party was just on the other side of a three foot high collapsed stone wall.
Fortunately, the reunion was a pizza party, and there were hundreds of pizza boxes stacked in a corner of the ruined kitchen. I went and got one and unfolded it, and it was big enough to make a sort of door for one of the remaining stalls. There were some cardboard tabs that I folded out so they'd hang on either side of the stall walls. There was a little girl with curly brown hair looking distraught, so I showed her how to make a door out of cardboard.
When I turned around to go into my newly private stall, I found someone else had gone in already, and now there was a line. I turned to get another pizza box, and then I woke up.
We landed near the site of my reunion, and suddenly heard the baby laughing. He had come back to life, after being cold and stiff for hours! It was a miracle! I hopped out of the bus incredibly happy, and saw my father, who was helping set up the reunion. I told him the story as we walked to my old high school, where the party would be. Only the school had fallen into ruins. No one seemed to mind, though.
One of the guys in my class asked me if I was ready to dance with him that night, and I realized I'd lost my cowboy boots somewhere along the way. My dad had some bright yellow rain boots in his trunk, so I put those on instead. And started milling around the party guests, looking for old friends. I talked to a few, then I had to use the restroom, so I went looking for that.
There were still toilets in the old restroom, but more than half of the stalls had been demolished, and the ones that were left didn't have doors. There were a lot of anxious women and girls milling around trying to figure out how to pee in private when everyone at the party was just on the other side of a three foot high collapsed stone wall.
Fortunately, the reunion was a pizza party, and there were hundreds of pizza boxes stacked in a corner of the ruined kitchen. I went and got one and unfolded it, and it was big enough to make a sort of door for one of the remaining stalls. There were some cardboard tabs that I folded out so they'd hang on either side of the stall walls. There was a little girl with curly brown hair looking distraught, so I showed her how to make a door out of cardboard.
When I turned around to go into my newly private stall, I found someone else had gone in already, and now there was a line. I turned to get another pizza box, and then I woke up.
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