Pathetic dreams

I have always had . . . well . . . interesting dreams. I say interesting because there isn't one adjective to describe all my dreams. I used to remember dreams several times a week. Recently I haven't been remembering hardly any dreams. Some dreams are strange, some are just random. I've had one or two dreams that I think were actually meaningful things my subconscious or God or whatever you believe creates dreams construed. I also had one SUPER crazy dream that came true, but I'd have to tell you about that one in person. (It's not really blog material).

Sometimes the subject matter of my dreams makes me wonder just how lame I really am. Last fall when I was applying to grad schools and Dr. Emerson was thinking about moving to Notre Dame, I had a dream about sociology. In the dream Dr. E was moving, and the old chair of the Rice sociology department (Dr. Chandler Davidson) was telling him he couldn't leave, because he had to finish his big research project. I told Dr. E about this dream, and he was like, "Why are you dreaming about stuff like this??"

A few months ago I submitted my first paper to a scholarly journal for review. I had two dreams in a period of about a week about finding out if the paper was getting published. Both were surprisingly positive dreams (well, one was neutral, but in the other my paper got accepted to the cheers of myself and two faculty members). I thought it was crazy I dreamed about that not only once, but TWICE.

A few nights ago my dreams hit possibly their all time low. I dreamed I posted a great new blog entry, and got a bunch of comments from people who never comment. Sadly, this dream had that really realistic feeling to it, so realistic that for awhile I thought it was actually a memory of something that happened. Eventually I realized that not only did I not have a new blog entry with several cool commenters, but I couldn't even remember the subject of the cool blog entry from my dream. Darn it!

When I realized I had just said "darn it!" because I couldn't remember the blog entry subject of my dream, I knew I had hit some kind of low point in my life. Is there seriously nothing better for me to be dreaming about? Give me an adventure, a battle, a mystery, a sexy romance . . . but dreaming about a blog entry getting comments?? Sure, I don't think the Bend is the most exciting place, but I am content in my life: I have shelter, food, a nice office, good roommates, friends, and I go out a lot. But this dream makes me wonder: Just how boring is my life?

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The continued power of the blog....

Last night, going to bed right after I wrote this entry, I had two dreams. In the first dream I was in World War 2. I was helping out with war theory, then taking care of women in children in a bomb shelter, then out on a jeep trying to destroy an enemy truck. I woke up from this dream because it started to get too intense, we were about to enter into hand to hand knife fights with a guy from the other truck.

In the second dream I was stuck in a world where robots had destroyed most of humanity, and I was one of the few lucky remaining ones who was a slave but narrowly avoided getting killed. At the end we were about to be killed by the most powerful robot who ran the whole planet, and we realized that he was actually human. As we were being sucked up an elevator shaft, helpless to stop impending death, my (human) friend I was with said, "I believe anything can be turned into good . . . do it God!" We plowed out the top of the shaft and suddenly were back in a world that was green and happy, and thousands of people were cheering and clapping for us as we landed on the ground.

I'd say those were two dramatic/exciting dreams. Given the result of this posting, I have a new blog strategy.
How little money do I really have?
Where is my tall dark and handsome man?
When will I get to go on a cruise to the tropics?
How little world peace is there??

Go blog, work your magic!