Monthly Archives: October 2006

rural spot

Hmm, well, I had some good stuff remembered because of the fire alarm that woke me up at 6:15 this morning and I decided to stay up. At that point I remembered a lot of stuff and started writing a draft. However, then I started working on a project and forgot about the draft here without naming it and so I guess it didn’t autosave. Anyway, dreams: 1. I and a bunch of other Williams 06ers were gathered in an unfamiliar rural spot to celebrate the birthdays of a couple of them. 2. In the same place, one of my roommates was saying that he was barred from MySpace because in the MySpace inventory he indicated that he owned whiskey, and that’s not allowed. (A trap!) 3. Other stuff happened also in the same place, but it’s been 3 hours since I woke up now and it has faded into vague visual blurs.

sports-bar bands

Snippets, which originally had more continuity with one another:

– cooking with a bunch of zucchini and doing other stuff that included walking outside along streets in an open area and ending up somehow left with two longitudinal peeled zucchini halves each from a different zucchini, and I was like “how’d that happen”

– I was walking with one or more people in eastern Somerville in the late afternoon and one of them got interviewed about music by a girl passing by, and she also interviewed me, but only after I walked to Ball Square (and at that point the sun had shifted to mid-morning), having to make a shortcut along the fence of a little-league field, and it turned out her first question was about “sports-bar bands” – what was my favorite one? I told her I wasn’t actually into professional sports, so I didn’t know any sports-bar bands. Not that I even knew what the genre was. Something like pub rock, but jockier? No idea, and I don’t know that I’d find it appealing if it actually existed. (If it actually does exist, let me know.) I don’t remember whether she asked me more questions. Maybe not; I might have unwittingly abrogated the interview with my lack of knowledge or enthusiasm for sports-bar bands.

– I was in a building made out of dark wood, in a large room with large tables on the south end, lit only by daylight from the west side. There were some friends there. I almost feel like this is a recurrent setting. Hmm.


This morning for a good while before getting up I had a large collection of feverishly vivid dream memories while semi-awake, but many of them have receded. I wish there were some good way to retrieve them. Anyway, some pieces that are still accessible include:

1. being on some sort of adventure expedition that ended up with all of us getting to a cold pebbly/snowy shore of a lake and having to clamber down a glacious embankment with some assistance from the expedition leader. There were already a bunch of people wading in the water and I planned to dip in entirely, polar-bear style. Oh, and Borat was standing further out in the lake with the water up to his waist, fully clothed, and was acting manically. I’ve never even seen Borat except for pictures, so this is weird.
2. (I think I have transit dreams every night now) there was an intersection with a sharp curve in one of the streets meeting at it, and a Green Line bus (or tram? I’m not sure) went by and maybe stopped, exerting a lot of torque to make the curve.
3. Also I was inside a station at one point, which looked like a parking garage with slightly sunken travel lanes, and a Red Line bus came up and stopped though it looked like it was going to maybe cold run over me at first.
4. The remainder of what I recall is mostly vague conceptions of bright colors and the interior of a house.


The preceding boundary of what I remember has to do with walking and bus connections to squares in the Somerville area. Davis Square was actually a rural rotary. Just a little south of it was a parking lot with lightposts at the edge, and I was helped connect a chain of rings, each comprising metal and rubber pieces, which attached to the lightpost. Then later I was in the same general area but walking on an eastward gravel path to an opening view with an area of interlocking gardens and terraces, also a pool, at the end of the road. This was the one entrance to the city of Tahiti (should have been Tallinn, as it was definitely the capital of Estonia, but who’s counting) which was odd because one of the sections of the gardens was private property and it was just all quite unassuming for a city entrance, although very pleasant. I had seen different pieces of this area published in landscape/architecture books, and recognized it right away from there. I jumped into a pool chair and people were splashing around so I soon got damp in my fully clothed state, and then different Williams alums starting arriving and showing up all over the place.


At one point I was in my house in NH and telling my neighbor about The Nature of Order. Then later on, I think the wider context was a sort of subterranean large school setting or something (a kind of setting that recurs) and I was sitting in a small, dark auditorium facing east that had a concert going on that was sort of like a funk demonstration concert, with Parliament on the stage and the explanatory interludes being MC’d from the audience by my aunt, who at one point was Dubya instead, and who was illuminated by a spotlight when he/she was talking. Dubya tried to say “syncopation” and it came out “syncopa….jation.” An audience member requested a song at the end and for some reason a bunch of NH and Williams friends and I had to go up on the stage (Parliament was no longer there… were they ever there at all??), which was now only dimly illumined by house lights, and we sang a song that started with the lyrics “I can’t feel the mountains/I can’t feel the sea” and beyond that very few people seemed to know the lyrics or even the melody so each person just improvised, trying to pretend to be singing the real song, all the while walking sort of interpretive-dancily around on the stage. Someone started a line of people holding hands and I joined up, and after a while I ran forward to cause an interesting shape in the line, and slid along the stage floor. Then I started propelling myself with my arms along the floor like a seal, and other people were finding the floor a good place to be, including one guy who passed by me wriggling like an earthworm as I was moving like a seal. The thought of the pensive walk-dance having gradually devolved into everyone locomoting like odd non-bipedal animals was just so silly that I laughed myself awake, which is why I remember this all so clearly.


There were a bunch of my Williams friends who had all traveled to some nice natural spot (there was a tree there) and we were chillin’ and I think there was more than that to that scene but it is behind a brain-firewall now. Also there was more cityness involved at some point too?


I was riding on an aboveground part of the T in a rural area with some friends and struck up a conversation for a while with a middle-aged guy who had other family members on the train about Jimi Hendrix’s albums, and he said he didn’t like South Saturn Delta because it didn’t hold together like his original Experience albums, and I said well yeah but that’s because it’s a compilation of previously unreleased songs, not a preconceived album, and I agreed it wasn’t as coherent as other albums but that I really loved some of the songs on it, and had he ever listened to First Rays of the New Rising Sun?

Then we all got off the train at a spot where a meet was to happen, I guess, and later there I and some others helped one of our friends dry out the upholstery of her car, which was all damp from a large-scale spill of some kind.


I dreamt vividly last night and actually mentally catalogued the dreams I’d had so far when I woke up once in the middle of the night, yet now I can recall hardly any of them, which is frustrating. However, I do remember that at one point I was riding from Downtown Crossing to Park St and the conductor was explaining how the quays of the two stations were connected and you could save a lot of time by either walking or riding between them as opposed to the respective other method. It wasn’t clear to me which he meant. I also saw while riding how there was a platform all the way from one to the other, separated only by a wall with doorways. I’m not sure this is IRL true.


Much of what I remember has to do with being in a building, maybe at Williams because the near side of it was basically Stetson Hall, and I know this because the primary attribute of the building was that it had a complex series of seemingly subterranean stairways that subsided toward the south and emerged either at dead ends or outside the building or inside another building. There were at least three main entrances to these stairways and the place I went at first through them was I think another building that I had to get to again, but the subsequent times I went down the stairs I kept getting to the wrong spots. For instance, sometimes the stairwell would just end in a dead-end hallway (all the stairwells were cinderblock) and on one occasion I emerged at the end of a long enclosed courtyard that was “part of the Boston Common” (in that it was open space in Boston, I guess?) and it was flanked by tallish buildings with wood structure and glass curtain walls, which were restaurant/function-room type places, and there was a function happening in at least one of them, and at one point I was inside there, trying to get back up the stairs and retrace my steps to the correct destination.

At another point I guess I was in a smaller house and, uh, there were more stairs in it and some nooks. I don’t remember what happened there except my discovery of $5?


I was at work and then I was looking at a possible different job at a design firm in a hilly enclave in India with a northern view of very distant high mountains; it sounded like a cool place to work. Some of my coworkers were switching jobs too. Then I was back at regular work and got an all-personnel email about paychecks that brought the fact home that I wouldn’t be working there anymore, and all of a sudden I didn’t want to change jobs anymore. Then I woke up and was relieved to find out I hadn’t actually done this. Then I fell back asleep and was in a dark room with a hatch in the floor that led to a submarine, and I was glad I didn’t work on a submarine.