When I Flooded Camp

I've only had one actual Dream Journal and unfortunately there are only 5 dreams in it, because I got irritated when the bewilderingly perforated pages kept falling out. Yesterday I found it collecting dust in the back of my closet, and this is my favorite entry, dated March 22, 2003:

First, I was at a play where Alan Rickman was signing autographs. I got one, but my dog ate it. Then I was at some kind of summer camp. It was all very flat and in the center was a hill with a main house, which was a very tall, multi-level, pagoda-like structure. Each level had a wrap-around balcony.

When I got to camp, I found that Alan Rickman was my counselor, and he was very upset because he had to share a tent with 6 other counselors. He was also angry because the new main camp house had been built directly over a freshwater spring that had been there when he was a camper. He showed me two spigots under the building, a red one and a black one. He turned the handle of the black spigot, and nothing happened. Then he turned the handle of the red one and a little burbling spring rose out of the ground (not out of the spigot). When he turned it off the water disappeared.

I went back later and, intending to help him, I turned on both spigots. Water started spurting out. Cabins began to flood, but I couldn't turn off the red spigot. We all had to go to the balcony of the camp house and watch as camp disappeared underwater. The camp director was very upset--somehow he knew I was the culprit. Then I had to walk around school and apologize to everyone for flooding summer camp.

A dream from a while ago

This is in response to Dasher's latest post. It's an old dream and a little fuzzy.

As a freshman or sophomore in high school, I had a dream that Joyce Li asked me to bring her some Legos the next day at school. I don't remember which Legos they were, but they were very specific and rare pieces which I happened to have, I think parts of an alien space ship or something. When I woke up the next morning, I had a vague memory of this and frantically searched for those pieces in my gigantic Lego tub, put them in a ziplock bag, and brought them to school. It took me until I caught up with Joyce to give her the Legos that I realized she had looked a little different in the dream, and – Aha! – that it had in fact been a dream. I made no mention of the Legos and smiled an awkward "Hello" instead.

Last night I dreamed that I opened the fridge and saw a carton of eggs hidden away behind their usual storage spot. I didn't know it was a dream until this morning when I fancied an omelet and looked for the eggs in that spot. They weren't there because no one bought eggs this weekend. That's when I realized that I only have two kinds of dreams-- the incredibly twisted type or the unbearably boring ones--neither of which should really be shared. It's probably why I haven't posted on here until now. That or the fact that my dad's definition of a nightcap is half a glass of Scotch, and I can't really drink whiskey without rambling in one medium or another.