comical happenings

there is an event going on in a big hotel, there should be a feeling of glitz and glamour but it feels very much like a sunday afternoon at a butlins camp. for some reason the event is taking place over several rooms. i have a role of being the mc for one of my colleagues, npj. he is going to be giving out some awards, so my job is to introduce him and the awardees, plus i also have to run around to the other room to get the various people.
i ask npj which order he wants the awards to go in. he shrugs.
i decide to throw away the speech cards and do it on the fly.
i make a very good, and short, speech introducing a french retailer. he is a bald headed bull of a man, who has to walk a long distance to get to the stage.

i retire out of the hall.
the foyer area is like my old school. big windows, concrete slabs for the floor, glass doors and an awards cabinet. there are a bunch of teenagers running around the space. there is a fear that they are going to break something. i step in and tell them to move on. i chase them out of the building.

that leads me into the garden area. there are some people sniggering so i walk over to them. they are looking into a shed like building. as i join them i can see what is causing them amusement, in the shed two people are showering both are men and they appear to be washing each other. i enter the building only to see two men pretending to wash each other and laughing at the people who are watching them.

they leave the shed and i decide to have a shower.
the building changes from brick to blue canvas and then gets blown down.
the canvas gets ripped to pieces and bits of it stick to me. i am now in pants, soaked and with bits of blue canvas stuck to me. the location seems to have changed and i am in the middle of a square of houses, smack in the middle of a flowerbed. i look around for a hose to wash off the canvas.
people are looking at me.

(dream ends)

dancers

it is all very much a 90s pop video. black and white, taking place in a large airy backstage space that resembles a ballroom from a posh house. throughout the space there are draped white curtains and there are pools of electric white light.
there are three dancers in this space: two men and a woman. they circle each other. one man seems to be always facing the other two, and he seems to be challenging them. the dancing is sensual and balletic, a nu-romantic version of “west side story”. the views of the dancers change sometimes we are watching them from a distance, other times our view is in the middle of the dance looking out at them, there are close-ups on the faces. there are long lingering looks and there are fast jump cut edits. from the views of them we can see that they are singing, but there is no sound.
the solo male dancer is robert redford, he is wearing an angelic white shirt, he is doing lots of hand movements towards the other dancer, mostly they appear to be bruce lee ‘come on’ type gestures. the man he is challenging is tom cruise. the woman is never revealed.

(dream ends)

fragments

1]
i am moving towards a large desk, i have lots of papers in my hand. i need to sort them out, they hold a clue. each of them is a photograph of a bookcase. there is a large white border around each image, in the top right there is a number, top left there is a time – the font looks reminiscent of that used in the prisoner.
at the desk i try to get the papers in order. it should be simple, they are numbered but there are a lot of them.
i try to lay the papers down to make them more manageable; it is hard to keep them in check.
it soon becomes apparent as to what is happening in the pictures. one of the books is being moved. not being taken off the shelf just pushed in or pulled out, as if it is a switch to a secret chamber.

2]
i am playing a game on my mobile phone. it is an intensive and draining game. even though i am engrossed in playing the game, i do not know what the game is or how it is played. it is like i am viewing myself from the back so my body shields the view.
(strangely when i woke up i tried to play the game on my phone, it took several minutes before i remembered that there is not a game on my phone).

3]
i am at a funeral service for my father. at first the view is from above and i am watching myself move around the space. where i am sitting is below the level the door and to get to it you have to walk down a few stairs.
i am sitting on a beanbag type thing in a large square area. there are several more of these beanbag things scattered around. a few more people come into the space.
i get up to do something with the service. i am wearing a black two-piece black suit, the shirt is a blue flowery patterned affair which is not tucked in, as i move i notice that the hi-tech (brand name) combat boots i am wearing are battered and very heavily scuffed. i feel a little uncomfortable about the way i am dressed.
a little later i am sitting down. slightly slumped, slightly distanced from those around me.
two men interrupt me; they are my age (and i seem to be in my late teens / early twenties in the dream) they are dressed in sombre suits. i think they are coming to offer condolences. one of them reminds me of an old school colleague (someone i was never really close to, and best i can say about him was that he was pale, had clammy hands and a double jointed thumb) the other one i can’t place. both are very earnest, both lean into me, their voices are low. one of them asks me if i had seen their new graphic novel.

10/1/09 Dream

Tim and I are in London, making our way to Everton football ground (I know) to get an autograph from manager Fabio Cappello (I know).

We climb walls to get in and make our way to the technical area, which is encased in clear plastic. The match is over, and Tim moves in for the kill with a brochure for him to sign, as Fabio stares silently at his players sitting around him. Meanwhile, I creep past and downstairs to put a Simpsons trading card in his jacket pocket for him to find later.

And then I wake up.

09/1/09 Dream

My mum, Dad (alive again), sisters' kids and I are going to Darts Farm for the day as we hear it's closing. And for some reason, we're going to be driving there in an open top bus.

As we speed through the country roads, my father really puts his foot down (this is unlike him in in real life - he only ever speeded once, and got caught for it). I'm te only person on the upper deck, and as we go round bends I actually have to hold on tightly or be thrown from the bus.

Then, on the next turn, he overdoes it. The bus crashes over onto it's side, but I manage to jump safely to the ground without harm. Everyone inside is fine.

My Dad stands by the overturned bus, desolate. I put an arm round his shoulder, and say "Well, you were going a bit fast round those corners...". He nods agreement.

Abigail, my sister's eldest child is crying by the side of the road. "It's OK," I tell her, "No-one was hurt."

"I'm just sad that Darts Farm is closing." she says.

And then I wake up.