CEO at my house

It was too early in the morning as the phone rang and my grandmother picked it up and walked up the stairs (even though she doesn't live with me). I was sleeping with my wife. My grandmother had a concerned look on her face like the telephone call was important, and told me it was my boss's first name. Of course, I didn't put two-and-two together since CEO never calls me. Never. So my mind flashbacked to my childhood, where I had a playmate by the same first name.

I answered: it was CEO on his cell phone, so he sounded like a radio caller. And he was angry. And it was before the sun had risen.

"Bart Barton called. He said the test was wrong."

I remained patient and silent. Let him talk, I know I followed the directions. CEO continued:

"First, you indexed it wrong. Okay? It's indexed wrong- the whole thing."

"The whole thing?" I asked in feint disbelief.

"Yeah, and second..secondly, wait lemme check my notes here. Yeah, why did you index the page counter? Captain Software II is here and he said we didn't have to index the page numbers."

Okay, NOW I was angry because Cap. Soft. (CSII) is a JERK and doesn't know ANYTHING about this test. NOTHING. ZILCH. NADA. ZERO.

CEO: "You'd better come down here and redo it. Bart is in California so we have a 3 hour head start; he needs it redone today."

I asked: "Okay, where are you?"

CEO: "Downstairs. Outside of the window."

My wife was stirring, so I quietly walked down the stairs, and my house got a lot bigger and more expensive [since CEO is a status monger]. CSII was on my couch with a laptop and paperwork...he looked righteously indignant that I indexed it wrong.

The sun was up. I looked outside of the window and saw CEO on a golf cart with filthy super-rich older men and women. My first reaction: since when is there a golf course to the right of my house? Since when did all of these rich people move in? They really looked like the type of people Bruce Wayne hangs out with. CEO was flirting with a 60-year old woman. He fit right in.

When I let him in through my [conjured up] mansion doors, he and CSII proceeded to accuse and prosecute me, while I maintained my innocence by stepping through the facts. But then I lost my cool when CSII was so ignorant and cocksure. We almost came to blows, and CEO didn't stop us. CS II's face was so red- I had finally gotten him to fight back in front of the boss. He claimed he could wipe me out with one punch...I said come on, followed by a bunch of cuss words. Yeah, my hatred was boiling over, and so was his. it was loud. It was ugly.

Getting past the absurdity of the accusations, he tried to stop me from asking him in front of CEO: "Why can't you just eliminate the page count field in the SQL database? Why can't you just edit the data instead of me redoing the whole thing?"

He interrupted me three times after I began "What can't-". Before the fourth time I punched him.

Anyway, after things settled down, it was now 8:35AM and I told CEO I needed to take a shower before work. He said OK. My wife had been in another bathroom taking a long shower when all of this was happening, and now it was real late and I wasn't ready for work thanks to CEO. In my mind I said, "Watch me get scolded for being late by CEO- because he's going to FORGET he cause me to be late."

When I went into the bathroom and put on the shower, the water wasn't going down the drain, and the water level was up around my thighs. My wife knocked on the door and asked, "Hon, are you STILL in the shower?" I was embarrassed. "I just came in." I looked atthe morning from the bathroom window and it looked like a "late morning"--late as in the sun was too high for me to see it since I spent most of my life in school or working during this time on weekdays.

Eventually the scene switched to Tamarac, at my grandmother's condo. The cast was the same, though. CEO was the boss, he totally took over the house. I defered leadership to him. CEO was trying to get Bart on the phone. For some reason the time was 4:30AM, and dark. He was going through Bart's receptionist, to tell Bart the good news: the project would be completed on time. While he was getting Bart, I had to urinate. I went into the bathroom and saw floaters. I urinated, and hoped Bart wouldn't get on. I heard CEO calling my name and CSII's. I couldn't finish in time, and missed the meeting. CSII assured CEO that the project would make it thanks to his programming script.

Finally at the end of the dream, when CEO was calm, I told him that I thought CSII should have realized this at the beginning. He nodded slowly and deliberately and whispered, "I know...I know."

The Return of Loki

I stumbled upon Loki from Tashman Technologies (also called Arse) at a local pizza parlor in South Florida. Was was sitting alone at one of those curved tan pizza parlor chairs, and had paper work and a Blackberry. He was personable, friendly, chatty, asked for my opinion and actually listened. My instincts told me he was "working" me, to try and get info about Tashman.

CC Sabathia

I had a dream Yankees pitcher CC Sabathia pitched the game of his life in Game 7 of the World Series vs the Indians (not possible, I know). He actually defeated a female pitcher (heavyset Latin woman) in the final game. She was crying but happy for CC.

The setting: outdoor gigantic grassland place with buildings and canals.

Return to college

In this dream, I had been banned from every setting foot at my former university. But I made my return 12 years later. Actually, I was alone and just wandering around. I wasn't trying to get noticed. I think I was on campus out of necessity (like looking for something).

Anyway, the setting wasn't like any real campus- I saw lush gardens, department stores, convention halls, Asian nail spas, and lots of restaurants.

As I was roaming I kinda felt like an outcast or a man without a country or a man out of his time. I saw all the students involved in their own realities- class schedules, jobs, activities...

I followed a few around, I saw my childhood friend/rival Jared K all grown up, so I followed him and his friend. They didn't seem surprised and let me tag along for a while. I was walking behind buildings alone and made my own trail. When I came back into my loop, I saw two doctors put a sign on a small outside table as they were eating lunch; it said: "Surgeons Only".

I avoided them since they were authority figures. Jared and his buddy, however, actually went over and chatted.

I was still outside, so I walked in the giant mall. I saw an Asian nail and hair spa on my way in. I barely made eye contact. Once inside the mall, I saw Toys R Us. I got excited, and was looking for video games even though I knew I didn't have the money to buy anything. In a sense, I even felt guilty just for wanting to look. Maybe I wouldn't be able to resist the temptation.

But I didn't see any video games. Instead I saw the new toy trends. You know that feeling? You have no idea when these new toys became popular, and you have no idea why kids buy them. In this case, the shelves were packed with Advanced Dungeons & Dragons 2nd Edition boxes: "Make your own AD&D videos".

The store was sooo vast, just the campus: high, high ceilings with an untold number of shelves.

I left and found my way to a very bust outdoor cafe; it was not lunch time. I saw Fabien- a Haitian woman I went to college with. She was nice, but she told me Ana B. (from high school) was being abused as a waitress at the cafe. I told her I would try to do something to save her. We were using a wireless laptop or something. Mrs. Bush, my old Kindergarten teacher (she must be dead by now) was cleaning the tables; she had sneakers on, something she would never have worn. I can't remember the details of what Fabien's plan was, but I knew it wasn't working since I was powerless as an outsider.

I eventually wandered off and went into a hallway with windows. I entered the museum. As with many museums there was construction. I felt pretty scared to be in this museum since the artifacts seemed expensive. I didn't want any trouble with me accidentally colliding with one.

There were student workers there, and they asked me for my ID. I was scared but someone still have my old college card, which miraculously worked. [I think I used my dream altering powers to make it work.]

After walking around the museum, I exited and came across a giant cafeteria/conventional hall, similar to the Orlando Convention that Tony Vahl and I went to years ago. As soon as I walked in, the girl behind a cafe counter said, "Hi, sir what can I get you?" Then a male waiter rushed towards me and said, "We have a hamburger special today." I felt as if the whole museum thing was a setup and that they were pressuring me to buy their food. (Similar to walking out of a Disney ride and being led right into the merchandising area.)

I replied, "Uhmmm...no, I just passing through", but they cursed me, "I hate when guys f$@#% do that $hit."

I recalled that was the 2nd time a college worked cursed me out today (I can't currently recall when the 1st time was). I said to myself that I would blog a review about this university's so-called good service.

Finally- here comes the dream climax.

Small open space area of eating. I sat alone in a table by the wall, window, and door in the corner- one of those diner tables that wobble. I was alone in my thoughts. Was I lost? What was I doing here? I have no friends or family here.

Three or four Muslim men sat at the open chairs. I've seen more of that in New York- strangers would sit at open chairs right next to you. I always thought that was weird when I was a kid, if not awkward. I tried to avoid eye contact, and they were talking amongst themselves. However, one started to speak to me, so I was polite and I was sometimes included in their discussions but still never felt part of the conversation.

One had a question about the baseball team of that city, and I answered him. I was proud of myself that I knew their score from last night, but I realized I said something that offended them or scared them, you know a faux pas. Then it hit me. I somehow revealed my identify to them. The secret is out. I was only inches from leaving the campus (the door was right there) but I blew it. These Muslims know who I am. I have a beard now, but I saw them studying my face- hard. Three of them excused themselves to use the rest room, but they took their bags. It was over. They will tell the MEDIA or the police or the college. I will get arrested for violating the rule. I will have to pay money.

I got up and left once I realized they would not be back. I walked out of the door clinging to a false hope they didn't recognize me. The Muslim that remained ran after me. "Hey, what happened?" he asked. I told him my story. He didn't believe me so I told him to use Google to find out. I tried to write the keywords down on my receipt, but my handwriting was so bad or I didn't want him to get my debit card number. I felt I was wasting my time anyway, as he knew who I was, and I didn't have to prove it.

So that's that. I walked away like Bill Bixby, knowing that I would get into trouble for returning to campus.

Getting shot at in Hialeah

I went to Danny's house after work...I had been playing OOTPX, and we were discussing the 1996 Yankees and Andy Pettitte. I was discussing how great Andy did in his rookie year in 1996. However, when I got to his place in Miami, he had too many family members there, and I felt uncomfortable because he was pretty much out of sight, and taking care of family duties for his wife and daughters (and their friends and cousins).

I wanted to go home, and didn't have my car, so I had to figure out the buses. I was walking in people's backyards, and there was a lot of traffic even in the residential side-streets in Hialeah. I felt exposed.

I pressed F2 to see which bus route would get me back to Broward- heck, I didn't care what part of Broward, just get me to close to home, and I'll walk it.

I couldn't remember if it was the 25 or the 35 bus.

Then I remembered something very important: Andy Pettitte's year was 1995, not 1996. So I hustled back to Danny's place. The large crowd kinda was thin now, and he was in a bathrobe, and his body was covered in thick hair. His mustache was drooping, and he looked like Saddam Hussein after Saddam was captured. So I told him about the 1995/1996 issue, and confirmed where I have to catch my bus.

As the sun was beginning to set, there were a lot of hoodlums roaming the streets. I was avoiding gun shots. They were shooting at me, shooting at each other, and the streets were populated by female prostitutes, thieves, and transsexuals; it was total anarchy.

I tried sitting at a bus stop, and pressed F3 to bring up a map, but I was getting nervous, and strange women started to talk to me. I made a quick webcam video of myself talking to one, with Mexican music. My wife thought it was funny, although I suspected she was being polite. Heck, she wasn't even there, but she saw it somehow.

So I got up and tried "walking it". More gang members shot at me, and I was walking near one of those generic man-made canals here in Florida. I wanted to jump in, but was too afraid. I ran onto a small highway (actually it looked like near Hiatus and Commercial near the expressway) and saw a bus stopping, but when I got there it kept going. So I ran to catch it. Was it even the right one? I'm lost.

Then I woke up to THUNDER.

Day After Tomorrow meets Smallville

Dreamt the Silver Age Ma and Pa Kent were in the movie Day After Tomorrow. A reporter was out there with them, and Pa said he wasn't going anywhere, even though it was getting colder outside; they would ride it out. He had a fire going in a wicker basket.

I was there; I got everyone to dress in layers.

There was a tornado in the distance, but then the eye of the storm passed overhead and everything cleared up. People came outside, assuming the worst was over.

Dream: Savage and NPR; kicking rubber balls against wall while roller skating

There was this miniature house that was floated to Michael Savage as a gift by an NPR station that carried his show.

There was some game of catch going on at a huge park in Hollywood, Florida. There was a party at night on the Intercoastal, with boats and people coming and going.

There was a room in a house with hardwood floors. There were 24 racquetballs on the floor, and a man with roller skates. He was being monitored by scientists as part of an experiment to see how long he could keep kicking the balls against a wall without letting them all get past him WHILE buying and selling Real Estate properties. The results were that:

- The roller skater tended to miss the racquetballs in threes

- Properties that started at $390,000 were valued at $1,040,000 within a three week simulated period of time.

- Apparently, distracted people make poor financial choices.

Harley Race

I had a dream I met wrestling champion Harley Race at a bowling alley, and he was training me how to pitch like Yankees closer Mariano Rivera. Harley morphed into Fred Hinde for a while, too. I ultimately disappointed Harley because I was joking around too much, and it started to get out of hand- I felt his instruction was too easy- and he wound up training someone else. I had a feeling he knew I was the better student and gave me some tough love- at least I think so.


**

Damian Hospital's notes: You may be asking what in the world do Harley Race, Mariano Rivera, and Fred Hinde have in common. The truth is I looked up to each of those men, and idolized them in some ways. That's why dream symbolism is a very subjective experience, and if any of you are looking for a quick analysis of your own dreams, you are going down the wrong path. People, places, and things all mean different things to each and every one of us.

I've had dreams where Boris Yeltsin was my school bus driver in Florida, and Adolf Hitler was my priest at my wedding in the Glenwood Projects. Yeltsin and Hitler mean different things to me than to you.

Marv Wolfman is overrated

Had an ONGOING "dream"- more like a thought I kept going back to all night- that Marv Wolfman's 1970's Amazing Spider-Man run SUCKED and he is an overrated HACK. I was questioning his entire tenure at Marvel comics. Gerry Conway and Len Wein, too.

[Just a dream, folks.]

Dog pees on floor, Doc Gooden Tampa, Tony Vahl

Blurring reality and the dreamworld, I heard my dog Stormy urinating on the living room floor, but I couldn't shout out. So I hit my wife's arm and began to scream, but I couldn't hear my voice; I was muted and/or deaf.

Then I woke up (in real life). It was 3:30AM, and I went downstairs to check out the damage; there was none. Stormy had been restless, so I walked her anyway.

In an attempt to return to sleep, I had the following dream:

I was in Tampa at a crowded park festival. I had a feeling I was there before. I bumped into a group a family of African Americans (or Caribbeans)- they had traditional clothing on. They were very friendly, and I knew their ritual, since I had performed it before. You know those hard balloons and you can bounce? Yeah, we did this great tribal beat together; they accepted me. THEN a young version of Yankees first baseman Mark Teixeira comes walking from the softball field and wants to join in, so one of the black guys quickly muttered for me to give him my balloon. But that's my balloon, and I did well. It's not fair. A younger brother told me it was okay, and gave Mark a water-balloon, but when we tried to do the tribal beat, it busted.

So I knew my time was up, and dropped my balloon and walked away.

I found myself in former New York pitcher Doc Gooden's apartment complex. I didn't know if he was home or not, but I thought it would be cool to see what was doing. I saw that he graffitied his name at the base of the stairs, and his message was complaining that his pitching coach Mel Stottlemeyer got screwed by the Mets, and someone else stole his job.

I walked up the dark and desolate flight of stairs, and was actually worried about bumping into a drug addict, but I didn't.

Instead, the dream kinda transitioned in the same setting. I was back at the softball field, and saw some guys (mostly immigrants from various countries) working out to make the big leagues. But these guys sucked, just like local neighbors.

One immigrant needed a catcher to throw to, and asked a Portuguese or Brazilian coach to do it. The coach had a receding hairline, was pretty big, and acted like an expert, but here he is in a free Tampa park with a bunch of losers.

The immigrant gave the coach a Styrofoam happy meal container to use as a mitt. The coach said, "No good; no good."

I saw Tony Vahl fielding some grounders at 1st base, and we began talking to the coach. We all went into the coach's house to look for a good catcher's mitt. I felt awkward looking through this guy's house. I made a wrong turn and saw his messy bedroom. Vahl and he were talking about the finer aspects of the game, and they finally found some real equipment to bring outside.

As we were leaving the house, I saw a burglar- it was Scott Hall from the nWo. He was wearing his black-and-white nWo gear. He ran ahead of us out of the house, but it was a distraction; his partner Kevin Nash had a sniper and took out the coach.

I woke up a few seconds before the alarm went off.

Sister-in-law dating Star Trek's Chris Pine

I had a dream My wife and I were vacationing in some green lush beautiful place, and we encountered my wife's youngest sister, Vanessa. Van was arm-and-arm with the new captain Kirk, Chris Pine. Van was too shy to talk to us, she just kinda meekly said hi. Gee, thanks. I commented to my wife that Van is dating a Hollywood actor, and it seemed pretty serious.

Tony Gwynn

It was a Tony Gwynn tribute dream. I was inside of a documentary (or his life). It was about how he was the most underrated baseball hitter of all time, and how he was the best hitter of the 1980's. It fast-forwarded to the current overweight Tony version. The dream was so intense that I was scared to check out Google Trends in the morning because I was pretty sure he died.

For those of you who don't know, Tony Gwynn was a Hall of Fame San Diego Padres baseball player.