Last night I dreamt I was because of a cartoon I had posted on my website. In the dream I knew what the cartoon said and that it was really, really funny, but now I can only remember that it had something to do with computer science. For some reason, the visitors sent me a poker chips of various values depending on how much they liked the cartoon. By the end I had a smallish pile of white chips (each worth 1), a huge pile of red (5), about half as many green (10), and a handful of black (25). I woke up before I could cash in, unfortunately.
A few nights ago I had another weird dream, this time with a celebrity guest. I was wandering through a high school filled with students going about their daily routine. It was a big, bright school like the ones in early '90s movies set in California. I knew I was looking for , and that I would find him somewhere around the band room. I did, and when he saw me he said, "Ah Brett. Good to see you. We've been expecting you." This surprised me because I didn't know that I was expected. Bob Barker continued, "Your parents and I have decided that you should go to the ." This surprised me even more because I had never been to San Diego, I didn't know they had a university, and I didn't want to leave Purdue. The dream then "cut" to what I knew was my parent's house even though it wasn't. Instead of a two-story house built on flat ground, it had three stories and was built halfway into a hillside surrounded by tall, spindly pine trees. I also seem to remember an old blue parked in the driveway. Bob Barker went to talk with my parents who were walking down the driveway. The three of them then tried to convince me to switch colleges, but I adamantly refused before waking up.
About a year ago I had another strange dream— more disturbing than the previous two— that I remember to this day. It started with a gigantic star-shaped... something... made out of stained glass plummeting down from the sky and smashing through the roof of a church. When the dust settled, an old homeless man found a stick in the rubble. This simple wooden stick had magical powers that made the man the ruler of the world, though in my dream, the world was just a group of a few hundred people dressed in brown. The next thing I remember, the man was on his hands and knees weeping with pieces of the broken stick surrounding him. His minions, the world, picked up the pieces and... that's all I remember.
Finally, even longer before that, I had a dream that, for some reason that I still can't figure out, caused me to wake up incredibly happy. It began in front of a run-down shanty that I knew was a restaurant of some sort. It had peeling paint and a tin roof and was built in the middle of a neighborhood filled with small, white shotgun houses. Parked around the shanty was a collection of amazing cars: a red Dodge Viper, a yellow Charger, a black Ferrari, a green... something. I vaguely remember going into the restaurant and talking with the patrons about their cars, but what vividly sticks in my mind is that when I exited I somehow had a pickaxe in my hands. I proceeded to smash the bejesus out of all of the cars. As I said, this seemed to make me incredibly happy.
Now these four stories are the creme of my dream crop, and certainly not all of my usual nighttime reveries are this weird. I have noticed, however, that they do tend to have multimillion dollar budgets, Emmy award-winning directors, and casts in the thousands.
