Post Your Dreams Here

Apple Jacks.  Remember that cereal?  My unconscious sure does.

Last night the entire company I worked for was flown to Battle Creek MI to visit the new prototype Apple Jacks refueling station.  It was a huge warehouse with a monster cyclone bin (I think that's what they call those huge grain tanks) full of Apple Jacks.  Trucks could pull into a special drive through arrangement to fill up with Apple Jacks without ever getting out of their trucks.

Oh, and they also sold gasoline in another tiny corner of the warehouse.

We were REALLY EXCITED about the Apple Jacks though. They gave us each little single serve boxes, you know, where you cut open the box and it becomes a bowl?

Been doing too much digital audio file cleanup, and record data basing.  It's all I dream about lately -- various combinations, where I'm erasing flaws in my friends and making lists of them.  I wake up exhausted.

I need some virgin friends.

Last night, just before I woke up, I opened my desk drawer and discovered, like, two years' worth of invoices I'd forgotten to tally up and mail out. I was SO WORRIED that my employer would find out and be pissed at me.

Plus, I still had to put chrome stripping on everything. I was surprised nobody noticed that one.

This dream doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but it was unique.

It was the first day of school, and our new teacher was an RC plane enthusiast. Rather than have us introduce ourselves, he fired up a small black airplane and started circling the room with it. It flew really slow and quietly (electrical, like the one I saw on my walk yesterday). He flew it to the front of the room and circled around the head of the person in the first row, then the person in the second row, then 3rd, etc. Wasn't asking any questions, just putting the classroom's attention on each person, one-at-a-time.

When he'd finished circling each person, he took the plane to the side wall and turned it sideways, so it slipped underneath the poster on the wall. We were all amazed that he could fly an airplane behind the posters on the wall, and emerge, still flying, out the other side. We clapped in appreciation.

That finished, he fired up an enormous (3-foot long) orange biplane. The whole body was a corkscrew instead of having a propeller. He flew it up toward the ceiling, which we suddenly noticed was sagging, and used it to push the suspended tile ceiling upwards into alignment. He moved it around to different tie points in the ceiling until he had everything flat and aligned. Again we clapped.

End of dream.

My ex-wife came over and sat on my lap.  I kissed her neck, and she shuddered as she always did when I kissed her there.

Today would have been her 62nd birthday.

I spent the first part of last night designing AZL codes. AZL000-AZL099 were for various injuries. AZL038 is a broken metatarsal, AZL066 is a deviated septum, AZL092 is a lacerated upper arm.

AZL100-AZL199 are for accident descriptions. AZL100 is an automobile accident, AZL120 is a bicycle accident, AZL132 is a fistfight.

AZL200-AZL299 are for environmental factors. AZL221 is inside a junkyard, AZL240 is in a park, AZL200 is in the home.

I had to assign and design each one of these codes, even though I didn't know what they would be used for. Insurance billing codes, from the look of them.

Never did find out what AZL stands for.

The second part of the night I was working in a modern office building, lots of floor to ceiling glass windows. I noticed, on the horizon, that a volcano erupted, spewing ash and hot gasses into the atmosphere. I started going around the building closing windows everywhere, because the ash cloud would soon be upon us. Nobody seemed very concerned.

I had to work on a medical system, many years ago. The real-life codes that resemble your dream are called DRG codes - Diagnosis Related Groups. And yes, they are used in insurance and billing applications.

It looks like they are now called CPT codes and HCPCS codes and ICD-9 and ICD-10 codes.. I know from talking to people that they can be fiendishly difficult. I had the formats all wrong in my dream, of course.

NoCoPilot wrote:

Never did find out what AZL stands for.

AZL = Androgynous Zoophyte Lad. Apparently you have a thing for SpongeBob SquarePants.

Well, I do like pineapple. And I have a snail named Gary.

I used to have a snail. We called him escargot.

Sometimes I hate the way my subconscious works.

"Why is Mark standing out there on the ledge with a bottle of champagne? He's not going to... Oh no."

Om occasion,I remember bits and pieces of dreams. Never enough to make any sense it, however. I had a dream last night, and all I can remember of it is - are you sitting down? - Jackie Chan on a go-cart. I kid you not.

I received a flyer in the mail about an upcoming clavecin concert at a local tavern.  Ordinarily a concert on an early precursor of the piano wouldn't be of much interest to me, even in the unusual setting of a local drinking establishment.  But the postscript on the invitation caught my eye: "George Harrison, special post-concert appearance."

It would be worth it to see a living legend in the flesh.

Alas, on waking I realized he is no longer a living legend.

I found out through a friend of a friend that Simon & Garfunkel were between record contracts. My wife, through a friend of a friend she works with, had some contact within RCA records.

Hey, wouldn't it be fun, we said, to hook up S&G with RCA?

She set up a meeting with some guy recommended by the guy she sorta knew. We waiting at a desk inside a hallway for a couple hours after our appointed time. When they guy finally arrived he was young, and cocky, and dismissive. He wanted to hear samples. I asked, "Do you know who Simon & Garfunkel are?"

He said, "Oh yeah, of course, they're that bluegrass/folk group. I've heard a ton of their old catalog. I want to get them into some NEW music, maybe have a few of our staff writers work with them on some new material, something that will appeal to today's audiences."

I looked at him like he was crazy.

My locomotion in dreams usually consists of drifting.

I can move along a flat surface, without walking, at about the speed of walking, simply by willing myself to move.  It's sorta like riding a Segway.

Except I think I'm laying down.  I can't remember.  Nobody in my dreams ever takes any note of my gliding past, so I never really paid much attention to it myself.

Until last night.  Last night I taught someone else how to drift.  He thought it was really neat, and I was glad somebody else could learn to do it.

But then I saw him gliding around the parking lot, a couple inches above the blacktop, flat on his tummy looking forward, and I thought "Gee that looks dumb."

The electronics repair shop I worked in up on Capitol Hill got in an Aries Synthesizer to fix. The distinctive wedge shape instantly identified it as an Aries, and I was excited to begin working on it because I always liked Aries synthesizers.

Except this one wasn't in a wood and steel cabinet. It was blue plastic.

Looked like some kind of tub toy.

Later, when I hand-carried it downtown to the owner I was glad, because it was raining cats and dogs.

Didn't sleep well last night -- the Spanish rice was a mistake -- so after Mrs NoCo went to work I went back to bed.  I was cold so I wrapped myself up tight in the comforter.

Fell fast asleep, deep dark sleep.

I was staying at a resort, and the resort was on the grounds of a school.  I used the exercise room/gym in the morning, but the elliptical was kid-sized, 3/4 size, so after 10-15 minutes my legs started to cramp up.  I tried to stretch out on their stationary bicycle but if was even smaller.  I couldn't even bend my knees sharp enough to reach the pedals.

So I decided to shower and head back to my dorm.  Couldn't find the men's/boy's locker room. My legs were so cramped up I could barely move them, so I was crawling down hallways pulling myself along with my arms.  I found a locker room finally, but after crawling into it I discovered it was the girl's locker room -- all kinds of prepubescent girls were in there showering and changing.  Luckily they paid no attention to me.

I crawled on, moving inches at a time, looking for the boy's.

Bits and pieces of a dream, somehow it fit together this morning but now it's just a jumble.

Hitler had a twin, still alive. (Looked a bit like Trump...)

His mother was an octopus (Kochtopus?) which we kept in a bucket.

I started pouring what was left of my Diet Coke (with ice) into the bucket, hoping Hitler's octopus mother would dislike it.

Dude, you have some weird damn dreams.

NoCoPilot wrote:

Nobody in my dreams ever takes any note of my gliding past, so I never really paid much attention to it myself.

Nobody ever pays any attention to the fact that I'm always nude in my dreams either.

TMI

We're all just willing to overlook your shortcomings.

If it doesn't bother me I can't see why it should bother y'all.

You wanted to show me your new tan.

It was metalflake, with embedded golden flakes. Sparkled in the sun.