Weekend Dreaming

Last Saturday, I dreamt that I had to do something for my friend Sachi, but I was late for school. I had to go through this crazy dream maze that I’ve been through in other dreams. It’s kind of on the side of a large hill or quarry, and I can see it from my first-person perspective and from across the way, like shots in a movie. It’s very yellow and hot and sandy. I sound like a lunatic, but I’m trying to paint a picture here. And I don’t know it’s an actual maze while I’m going through it, but it’s surrounded on all sides by various obstructions, and I’m growing increasingly frustrated, as I always need to be somewhere.
At the end, I get to this little house, and it’s designed like one of those old timey colonies where people dress up like colonists and churn their own butter. There’s an actor/worker there trying to get me to cook something with honey, and I’m just rolling my eyes the whole time.
I get a call from Sachi, and he tells me that I’m late for the play we’re in, and they got a real director, who is now pissed off at me. I’m so overwhelmed from being stuck in the maze and forced to make some stupid honey dinner that I sit down at this table in the colonial kitchen with a friend here in Japan, Priscilla, and I just start sobbing.
Well, Priscilla doesn’t know me very well, so she starts laughing at me, because, you know, Lauren’s always the jokester. I absolutely flip out on her, and scream in her face, wondering who would laugh at a fucking hysterically crying person. She got this shocked look on her face, like she thought my crying was a joke, and now felt awful. Then I felt awful. Then I woke up.
My friends told me the next day that I dream of the most random people, and it’s true. The two stars of my dream, I’m not really close friends with, and one we haven’t heard from in months and might actually be dead. Nah, she lives next to Kevin. I’m sure he’d notice something. Unless he killed her…

Sunday, I had a dream that I was the stage manager at Performing Arts Camp, which is weird, because at the moment I was dreaming it, the first day of camp was actually beginning in real life.
I have a lot of stage manager dreams: something going wrong, the director stopping the play to bring me out in front of the audience and yell at me.
Only, this year, I’m not going back to camp, and they’ve had to replace me. I dreamt the new stage manager was so good, they placed this really elaborate beautiful Victorian set during the 10-minute intermission, COMPLETE with a working snow machine and huge piles of actual snow on stage.
Everyone was gushing about how good this new girl was (a camper named Amanda who was a few groups below me in the old days), and how glad they were to be rid of me.
I sat in the balcony watching it all, and the play went so smoothly, she even had the time to come up and rest in the balcony to watch the plays — something I’ve always wanted to do. Seeing plays from the side doesn’t do them justice.
Anyway, the two directors thank her for all her great work by shining a spotlight into the balcony for all the audience to see and applaud. I happened to be sitting in the corner of the far reaches of the spotlight’s circle, and the directors screamed at me in front of everyone to quit ruining her big moment and get out of the spotlight.
So there you have it. Sometimes the thing I like most about my dreams is the lack of subtlety in its symbolism and metaphors. It’s all right there on the surface. I’m an open book.

Thoughts to Keep to Myself

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