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Fermius Firefly

A Dream Log, whenever I remember the dreams I've had.

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Location: San Marcos, United States

Fermius is a pen name drawn from a series of short fiction I wrote when I published the small press magazine Stellanova (on paper.) I play RPG games to escape from my daily grind as a technology wage slave for the state of California. I eat out a lot in order to do my part in supporting our increasingly service level economy. I am butler to 2 feline masters. If you ask them they will tell you I'm not very good at it, late with dinner, don't have enough hands with brushes in them, and sometimes I even lock them out of their office.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Furniture Polish, Ghosts, Returning to HS, N Gone

       I dreamed that someone had poured a dark wood polish on a silvery white wood table. I managed to get it wiped off, and blended in the darker spot so it wasn't so obvious. I then took the polish soaked rag and went around the house touching up all the dark stained wood furniture.
       
       I then found myself in a haunted house, ghost-busting. I had a small hand device that would zap the ghost. It would run/float past me, and be trapped in a device I carried strapped to my back. There were other ghost busters there, with the larger proton colliders and the traps. There seemed to be a sort of friendly competition going on. My trapping process was faster, but I was talking to the spirits to determine if they needed trapping or not.
       
       I dreamed I almost fell down a set of poorly constructed stairs on the stage at MCHS when I was sent to work on the computers connected to the sound system. I gave the “No theatrical effect is worth risking the safety of your cast or crew” speech to the assembled tech kids.
       “Well, how should we build the stairs?” One defensively asked.
       “Here's some basic engineering principals for the stage here,” I began, and then pulled up the white board and showed them how to build trestles, and brace using triangles. I spoke about the high center of gravity of most set pieces and proper counter-balancing to fix that issue.
       The director asked if I would be willing to take over the technical direction of the show. I offered, instead, to be available as a resource for a student technical director.

       When I got to my office, I realized that I didn't have keys to get in, so made my way across a very crowded quad to the main office. I wasn't the only new staff member checking in, S was there, returning also, but instead of as a student she was now a teacher, Literature and Writing was her major.
       “Not theater?”
       “No, I found I actually like the history and the creative writing aspects more than the directing or managing aspects.”
       “How about acting, you are very talented.”
       “I'm too short, and too red-haired and too freckled for professional work. I still perform with a local group, though. You should come a perform with us!”
       “Thanks. I'll come check it out.”

       I dreamed that I was climbing, well more sliding, down a steep hillside. When I reached the bottom I fell into a patch of cactus. As I struggled to free myself with a few punctures as possible, a layer of sand fell on me and then came a cascade of fist sized rocks, pummeling me through the sand. I was trying to stay under the sand, as it was distributing the blows, and still hold myself up off the cactus bed.

       I dreamed I was sitting my my browning back yard, a couple of cases worth of empty brown beer bottles strewn about my feet and overflowing the small resin table. I was drinking. I was also trying to set the empties all upright in neat rows, with my feet. S showed up and asked how I was doing. I gestured to the bottles and the neglected yard.
       S forced me up and helped me inside to the shower. I complained but was ineffective at resisting her. The hot water stung and felt good at the same time. S was so wet from helping me shower that she finally stripped down to her underwear and climbed in with me.
       “Don't get any ideas.”
       “Oh! Way too late.” I was erect before she'd even finished peeling off her blouse.
       “Yeah, well: Clean. Sober. Rested, before you get any of this,” she struck a sexy pose.
       “That's some motivation.”

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