Disembodied c. January 27, 1994

Someone hands me a green bell pepper. It mutates into a shrunken head. I throw it into the fireplace and a green glowing image of a head floats up and rotates. I figure it to be Eleanor Roosevelt. I am scared and in awe, and ask if anyone else saw it. A girl sitting next replies nonchalantly- yes, yes... it was Eleanor Roosevelt.

Now I’m walking through a cathedral/ museum with my first boyfriend, Matt N*****. I’m looking through my backpack for the brochure guide to all of the cathedral’s possessions. As I rifle through a bunch of papers, I know I’m looking for the one that has “HINDU” written on the top. Somehow I believe that if I burn that brochure, I’ll be able to show him Eleanor Roosevelt. All I can find are letter openers made of bamboo.

I’m at a party now at MacArthur Park in San Antonio. We all decide to burn some stuff in a cup. I’m afraid it might explode, but I really want to see Eleanor again. I try but I can’t see her in the flames. I get distracted by leg sitting on the table. Turns out, it’s a hollow cast for a broken leg but at the bottom of it, there’s a foot. I’m not shocked; I just ask around to find out who it belonged too. Sitting in the corner is a girl from my 4th grade class, Janice H*******, seemed to always have a broken or sprained something or other. She says it is hers, but both of her legs are already in casts. I’m trying to figure out how there’s a third foot involved. I realize that her body sheds parts and that’s the reason she always had casts and slings on in elementary school.

The dream police c. a few weeks ago

I wake up and take a shower and get dressed. I head out to meet N***** at the Japanese food court. We are in Japan, but the vendors are accepting dollars for payment and all of the patrons are speaking English and appear to be American. I walk back and forth, looking at the various food options, and I am surprisingly disappointed. It's all yakisoba and very greasy. N***** is at another table downstairs, chatting with some old friends and there's no room at their table. I take a seat at an empty table and start to pick through my food.

There is annoying music playing... and someone explains to me that it is a traditional Japanese song. I try to be respectful and enjoy it, but it is really jarring and repetitive. The music is coming from a stereo in a booth where the vendor has stepped away. Although I fear that the crowd will admonish me for doing so, I walk over to the stereo and turn the music off. I am happy that several people sitting nearby shout out, "Thank you!" in gratitude as they were annoyed by the music too. I go back to my table and try to eat. The music starts again: "EHH EHH EHH EHH EHH EHH."

I think to myself: this music sounds a lot like my alarm clock. If I were asleep, this would be one of those dreams where I incorporate the sound of my alarm clock into the dream. But no, I reason. I am awake. I remember getting up, taking a shower, doing the whole morning routine. Wait, but the bathroom was unfamiliar. No, it wasn't... I justify to myself. Now I remember that I remodeled the bathroom to look exactly like the one in my parents' house. I go over to the stereo. This time I'm turning all of the knobs and I cannot get the music to stop. I hit mute, volume, change all the settings. Nothing. I question my it's-not-an-alarm-clock theory again, but I run through the events of the day and realize that I cannot possibly be asleep.

All of a sudden, a guy runs into the room. Two cops are chasing him, yelling, "Stop! Wait! You're not supposed to be here! You are sleeping. You are not awake! You aren't real! You're not supposed to be here!" I start to question myself again. Are they here for me too? No, he's the one who is dreaming. Not me. I'll be fine. They tackle him to the ground. When they try to pick him up, he goes limp so that he is dead weight. The cops grab him, each one hoisting him up by hooking him under the arm on either side.

As soon as they get him off the ground, I startle awake. My alarm clock is still going. The brief intermission in the music was me snoozing the alarm clock in my sleep.

My first ethnic identity dream c. 1979

I'm naked and lying face down in my room buried under piles of toys and clothes. A couple walks in. Although I can't see them, I know that they are Caucasian and that they are carrying shopping baskets.

They start to pick through my toys, saying things like "wouldn't this make a lovely gift for so-and-so?" I get nervous as they zero in on my hiding spot, one of them finally picking up a toy that reveals my bare bottom as the rest of me remains concealed. They mistake my butt cheeks for two eggs.

"Oh honey, that reminds me. We need to get some eggs," the wife says.

"But those are brown," the husband says, disappointed. "We always get white eggs."

She replies, "but brown eggs are better, aren't they?"

Conception and birth?: a recurring childhood dream c. 1980's

I'm in a room. The interior has a Kubrick 2001 Space Odyssey feel, but is more beige than white. I am one of approximately seven girls sitting in chairs on risers like a choir. I suppose that the girls are my older sisters. They are all wearing white hooded unitards and have pale skin and sharp features like the wicked queen in Snow White. We all face a television screen displaying static. They move their heads as a metronome does, tilting them back and forth, in unison, singing "oooo OOOO" high and low with each click of their heads.

I scream but no sound comes out and I flee the room.

I run down a long dark hallway. I pass a tent, lit from within. There is a rope coming out of the tent, and as I pass by, it snares me around the ankle. I'm pulled into the tent and as I am about to enter, a woman's voice cackles, "Well lemme see what I've caught this time."

I always woke up before I entered the tent.