Wedding worries

Three times now I’ve dreamt that it was the day of our wedding already, and we weren’t prepared. Often the most pressing worry is that we don’t have a caterer. We’re either at the ceremony or at the reception, and I realize we never hired a caterer.

In one of the dreams, we arrived at Fernwood for the wedding. I didn’t understand why the entourage wore dark blue and balloon skirts with strapless bodices and dark sashes on their waist. Even the flowers were some color I didn’t like. The ceremony was held in some stone church, and it was tiny, and everyone was crowded in and it was so confusing. But I think we got married anyway, and without fanfare Oneal and I walked by ourselves to the receptioon venue, right next door.

It was there we realized that it wasn’t our wedding we attended, because we didn’t even pick a caterer. We had just gotten married and used someone else’s preps.

Last night’s/this morning’s dream seemed even more traumatic. We had asked my cousin Abby to help out during the wedding. On the day itself, I was standing inside the church, hidden from view by red and white curtains. For some reason I was standing in the middle of the aisle, not at the church entrance. So many people were missing from the church, people who were in the entourage or whom we’d asked for help. I called Abby, and she said she couldn’t make it.

It was awful.

Dream Diary: 1 June 2008

my dream, as i told it to my friend Richie:

i dreamt you were walking in a dark part of the city, alone. some construction workers started tracking you. they wanted to rape you. they were deadset on catching you, dead serious. they chased you through piers and warehouses–it was like a Sin City chase. you jumped over fences and walls, crawled through gates and doors and windows, and still they were on your tail.

then you found one of those trucks, the type to which you attach a ten-wheeler trailer. you stole the truck, and drove off. but they found a smaller truck, and drove after you.

you drove to my mother’s house in Antipolo for refuge. we hid you, but the truck you stole was still outside. the men followed you to our house, and they started beating down our heavy gate. i bolted it and leaned against it, but they were somehow able to push the gate hard enough to ruin the bolt. three of us were leaning on it, but there were more of them, and they were pushing resolutely.

they resorted to getting tools from their truck, and taking our gate apart. then i realized they might try our garage gate, so i ran to try and lock that.

when you were running from the men, it was night. very dark: shadows, dim lighting, with lampposts few and far between. but when you were at my house, it was morning. not bright and sunny, but early morning, like sunrise.

# # # # #

Oneal said, we just saw Richie last week, and now you’re dreaming about him?

dream diary: 25 May 2008

my dreams are always dark.

they are two men in a cemetery, clutching letters and papers. they are old and tired, worn and weary from their addictions, from their trials and tribulations, from their shit lives and jobs. here is a last chance at hope.

they have both come here, in the dead of night, to find a treasure. but we are not grave robbers, one says to the other. we are only come here to claim what is ours. i do not know what riches they hope to unearth amid bones and rotting clothes and hair. many have come before, taking and taking from those who no longer need, and the graves that remain are empty but for the dead.

but we can search here, where no-one thinks to look, the other says. but it is dark, nearly pitch black and they have no shovels, no lights, no strength, nothing but greed and despair.

we should come back, says one. we can look for a map of the cemetery, compare notes, bring tools, to make it easier. then we can find what we seek, and even more!

but the other is desperate. i can no longer tell who is saying what, only that they are desperate, tired, worn.

they turn a corner, and it is dark. it looked as though you were but disembodied eyes–you could not see your feet if you looked down, your hands if you held them out, a wall even if it hit you. and yet you knew there was something there, creeping slowly, prickling the hairs at your neck, freezing you in fear until it was too late, and running only delayed the inevitable.

the men ran in the dark, turning corners, crashing into graves and tombstones, losing themselves in tunnels, drenched in sweat and tears, the stench of their fear and helplessness filling the air.

eventually they found open air, a small grassy lawn. they came out between two mausoleums, and across the street, they saw a family of women at a picnic, as though it were perfectly normal at this hour of night. all of a sudden they noticed the dim light from the lampposts, the fresh, clean green grass between the gravestones. all of a sudden, the place was no longer ominous and deadly. but they knew this was not true.

Dream Diary: 19 May 2008

It felt like a journey through a fantasy world. Turn a corner, open a door, and you’re somewhere or even someone completely different.

1.

I was at a lavish, extravagant Christmas party, with treasure hunts, gifts and candies hidden everywhere, candles and flowers and balloons and lace. It looked like the ball in Labyrinth, except all in white.

2.

I was at school, in Riyadh. We were preparing for a party of sorts, and we were talking about exchange gifts, and we had to buy those big crinkles from ADB.

I was even in my high school uniform, and I went with my friend Pie and another classmate around the school. We had to buy something. There was much activity around–kids playing, students chatting.

The school looked uncharacteristically clean–no trash, no posters or bulletin boards on the wall. I said as much, and our classmate pointed to a discarded box on the floor.

We were walking around the campus, and we turned a corner. I glanced to my right, into the window of a faculty room. Inside I saw one of our teachers, Mrs. Ferido. We walked behind another building, and into the window of another faculty room. She was there again.

I must have glanced into three or four faculty rooms, and she was always in them, each time wearing a different dress, but always looking outside the window, sitting at a table.

3.

Oneal and I were up in the mountains, eating at an outdoor table with a nice roof set up above, made of rattan and bamboo and leaves. It looked like a nice mountain resort. We were there with a group of mountaineers, and Ian. We were all eating and telling stories and laughing.

Then someone took me to a room, apart from everyone, as if to distract me. When I realized this, I burst through the doors and into the function hall, where everyone seemed to be in a meeting. Everyone fell silent. Some people left.

I think Oneal was outside with Ian. She was upset and he was trying to comfort her. I saw them and misunderstood, and when I got angry Oneal couldn’t tell me what was happening.

I was also angry because I realized that Oneal was building something with one of the guys, and he didn’t tell me. I realized it was dangerous and obssessive and it could kill him. I was so angry and so upset, that I couldn’t even begin to ask Oneal what he were doing, and why. And he was so reticent and cold.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

when i woke up, it felt like i had dreamed enough for ten nights.

dream diary: mother’s day, 2008 May

last week, i dreamt about my mother.

i appeared on top of a tower, or a building, or some other tall structure. in the dream, i knew i was dreaming; i knew i had just appeared there, and i knew that i didn’t know where i was. i was with my mother, who was a spy deep in cover, and a man who was only there to be comic relief.

as we descended on the outside of this structure–did we go down the long, narrow ladder? or did we rappel down?–the man told me to be careful of the snakes. i wondered, where were we, anyway? above him, my mother, in a black cat suit, looked and moved like a female Bond–silent, sure of herself, subtle, inconspicuous. such economy of movement.

the man noticed my confusion, and he said we were in Scotland. he told me, when Saint Patrick drove the snakes from Ireland, they all went to Scotland, so be careful of the snakes when we reached the ground.

it was night, and the rain fell in torrents. when we reached the ground, i saw that there were indeed many snakes on the ground, slithering in the water. they were all small, and short, and i took care to avoid them as i ran. we were rushing towards a helicopter that was waiting to take us to the safehouse. we barely made it.

Dream Diary: 18 May 2008

1.
I dreamt I was visiting DigSol, and someone was trying to re-hire me. Instead I recommended a classmate of mine from Miriam. Shey and Ava were still giving me updates on my old clients.

2.
I was in the yard at Yale, and there was a lot of water. Push was submerged. And I was looking for a koi or a goldfish to do a job for me. I was choosing from about 8 of them swimming in a box.

3.
I was going up a very narrow spiral staircase in a small bargain book shop. I saw those tiny Star Wars books, like the Phantom Menace one that Oneal bought, and I got two for P49.50. i even saw the price.

When I got to the top of the staircase, I entered a long and narrow room with green carpet, and many shelves of children’s books. We were hiding from someone or something. Some men were hiding with me and the book shop’s proprietress. Then we realized the entities from whom we were hiding were hunting down one of the men with us.

We had to decide if we were going to hide him or turn him in. We reasoned that he would never have done us any favors.

Dream Diary: November 2007

Dream Diary: 20 November 2007

i was trapped in a house. vampires were outside, trying to get in. we had a spell book, and we could cast spells by burning the pages on an open flame. we tossed a pile of pages on the flame, but the vampires kept coming. they would break through soon. i sheafed through the sheets to find something, anything that would be helpful. but all the spells i found were benign.

at last they broke through. reinforcements hid up in the many trees outside, watching our house, watching us, waiting for orders. inside, we sat around a table with the vampires, negotiating.

later, i was in a bedroom painted red. i was on the phone with someone, and he said his room was red too, with Chinese symbols painted and engraved all over it. next thing i knew, he was on my bed, trying to seduce me.

Dream Diary: 21 November 2007

we are traveling from end to end on the train tracks. we had to walk through the ruins of a city, while following the abandoned, elevated tracks of a train system that had been glittering and gleaming in its technological brilliance, but had long stopped speeding through the miles. old buildings were reduced to rubble, succumbing to weeds and roots all over their supposedly strong foundations. we trudged through these urban remains, our heavy packs on our backs. we were dressed for hiking.

we had to take the train from end to end.

we were living in a small room, like a dormitory, only there were so many of us, and small windows. were we on a mission?

it seemed as though i was glimpsing past and future. train. no train.

dream diary: 28 April 2008

i don’t dream often. but there are occasions when i have a dream that’s very long, and strange, and when i wake it feels as if i’ve been asleep for a hundred years.

i had such a dream, and such a deep sleep, last night.

i dreamt i was Robin Williams, as he was in One Hour Photo, the sad, lonely Sy Parrish. as Robin Williams, i walked into a strange government building, all chrome and tinted glass, long hallways, dim rooms, empty offices. or were they really empty?

i think i was lured there, and trapped for a long, long time. occasionally i would see other people: the female twins, the other programs. many of them were programmed to appear as female humans. me, i was assigned to be a sort of system administrator. i had to make sure the other programs were doing their jobs. but i couldn’t do it anymore, and i had to escape.

when i was trying to find my way out, i ran into my replacement. he was another old man, but he was in a blue hazmat suit. but i knew he wasn’t like me. he was trying to stop me from leaving, trying to convince me to stay with him, pleading. i was trying to hide my bellybutton.

he said, “what are you trying to hide? the scar of your umbilical cord? i don’t need one of those.”

“why do you humans feel such concern for your bodies? why must there be such contact? many of your kind have tried to initiate such contact with the female twins, with the programs.” as he mentioned each name, a hologram of each female program walked towards us, disintegrating, vanishing, dissipating as it walked into me.

but i could not, would not stay. eventually he realized this, and he told me, “just follow this corridor. this corridor is Lincoln. parallel are Gordon and…” he mentioned another name, but i can no longer remember it. i followed his directions, and, to my surprise, i recognized the halls and the doors i had passed through when i first arrived. i rushed through the last tinted door, outside to my freedom.

but it was not over yet. outside, there was a crowd of people, other programs. they seemed to be shooting something, an instructional video? a commercial? i didn’t know. i ran down the steps, hoping they wouldn’t notice me, that they wouldn’t realize that i was a human, escaping.

i ran to the road, and there was nothing. no cars, no public transport. how would i be able to leave?

across the street was a wall of trees.

finally there was a cab. i hailed it. but this cab was peculiar, in that you couldn’t see an actual car. instead it was just a woman in a lab coat–the driver–with a large net around her, and she was moving down the road as if she were a car or a train. when i hailed her, she stopped, then made a u-turn and stopped in front of me, then threw off the net as though it were a cape. “hop in!” she said.

so i stepped under the net, and i saw that it was actually the interior of a car, and she was indeed in the driver’s seat.

but i couldn’t tell her where to go, or where i lived. i couldn’t remember anything. exasperated, she said, “well at least tell me your name. maybe we can find your address.” i tried and tried, but it was at the tip of my tongue, and i couldn’t remember. the only name that came to mind was Kaspar Wolfwinkel, and i knew that was not me. that was the name of someone who was not nice, i knew.

i was able to give the driver some meager directions. i saw a familiar fork in the road, and i told her to take the left fork. i said, “this is it, i live along this road. i know that if you stay on this road, past my house, you’ll eventually reach the Presidio.” but even these details, it seems as though they were hazy in my mind, just out of my reach, and gliding further away.

finally we reached my home, and i saw the tall office building across the street, near the fork in the road. i recognized the name, and in my mind i remembered a little girl being held by her mother, and they were happy. i knew i was the little girl.

so who was i?

dream diary: entry for 6 November 2007

i was at a wedding rehearsal. it was Kat’s wedding, at some big old church. people were fitting for their dresses and marching up and down the aisle. the church was full, as though it were the actual wedding day already, but it was evening and everyone was just milling about. though there were lights, the church was dim, and not festive.

there seemed to be a dais up front where the altar was. various people would ascend to announce things, and Anna and her younger sister, Jenny, went up and shared the mic to say some things, i know not what. they were dressed in fluffy white gowns, with puff sleeves and ruffles on the hem.

i was wandering around, now and again clutching Kat’s arm to ask a question or make a comment. someone called an elderly lady to the stage, and Kat and i saw from afar that she wore a brilliant, sparkling dress, ever so lovely. we stepped near to take a look, but upon closer inspection it appeared she was only wearing a silvery blouse with many tassels, and jeans. we wondered how she could have changed so quickly. she walked down a side aisle to the altar, her face old and uncertain.

i went over near the doors on the left side, and saw a friend preparing something for the wedding day. i think she was my classmate, and i was a project we had to do. it had something to do with music, so i went with her and her father to their house in BF.

we tried working, but to no avail. at last i said i had to leave, and besides my classmate was feeling lazy anyway. i picked up my things and stepped out of their house, onto a quiet, shaded street, near a bend where the road forked. it seemed to be a small road in a small community, very quiet and very homely. but i didn’t know how to get out. i only knew i had to go north.

i got on a tricycle. i don’t remember what i said, but he brought me to what appeared to be a terminal. the tricycle passed through a small driveway, and turned into a small jeep. not an owner-type jeep, but just a short jeepney. i had no idea where i was supposde to go; i could only hope that they would bring me to the McDonald’s in BF. then Patton got on the jeep, carrying many packages, so many that he had to pay for a seat just so he had someplace to put them.

dream diary: entry for 27 February 2007

i’m in a large room in a building. it looks like the buildings in my old school in Riyadh. it seems to be a family office–my mother’s family, specifically. i’m there with my mom. i’m not sure who else.

we are being held up. apparently we had hidden the cash in little bundles and stashed them under the table by the window in the far end of the room, stuck to the belly of the tabletop. when we had handed the money over, we were made to sit in chairs by the table, and tied up. right in front of us was a large mirror, about the size of a wall, and it was hanging from the ceiling, facing the window. it had an ornate frame, made of what seemed to be brass.

i don’t know who was with me aside from my mom, but there were four of us in those chairs. the rest of the room was lit up in small fires–twenty little flames, i think? maybe more. those little fires were arranged neatly on the floor, as if on a grid, and blocked the way between us and the door. not that we were capable of running.

soon, warriors dressed in traditional Thai costumes and masks arrived, assaulting the building. they carried curved swords. as they approached, they were met by more warriors, but dressed in different costumes–also Thai. the fray commenced. i didn’t know why they were fighting, or what it had to do with me and my family.

i don’t know how, but the rest is related to this thread in my dream. I know it’s not a different dream: i was somehow transported outside the building, while Mom and the others remained inside. i was with some other people, and we had found an artifact. we were trying to decipher where it was from, and of what it was made. there were ancient writings on it, and it had something to do with garlic, and the origins of the artifact. it was a black disc, with a square in the middle, about five inches across.

there was a little woman, a midget, with us, dressed in a suit, with long, straight hair and a beautiful, strong face. her skin was the color of cream, her hair and her suit dark. because of this artifact, this little woman needed to conceive a child. it had something to do with Anna’s baby. maybe we needed her help to save Anna’s baby?

the little woman went around the woods to search for answers, and for a man to impregnate her. she went to a fair, and asked a man by the stage some questions. she looked beautiful standing in the grass, austere and determined in her dark suit. behind her, children played on a merry-go-round, and loud, happy music played eerily.

in the meantime, i had to take care of Anna, but she kept running. for a pregnant woman, she ran fast, and i could barely catch up with her. “well, she’s in better shape,” a companion told me. but i managed to reach her as she crested a hill while following a path to what looked like UP’s Quezon Hall.

perhaps those warriors wanted the artifact?