Dreams

I am in the dream, and I am taking a class of some kind. There are probably two dozen students. The classroom looks like your average, every day classroom with orange plastic chairs and ugly blonde laminated tables. The teacher is tall, willowy, and has long black straight hair. She seems very haughty to me. I dislike her almost on sight. 

As we all file in to the class, the teacher is handing out portfolios in leather with cool organizers and calenders inside. I think it was a writing class (a la Weekend Novelist or some such) but I'm not 100% sure. She has one left in her hand, but refuses to give it to me. She claims she's run out. I and another woman who was behind me in line have to wait until she orders more. I am very irritated because I paid for this class and should have the materials as promised. Fuming, I take my seat. The teacher gives an assignment, which I can't do because I don't have the materials necessary. I try to approach her but she falls asleep every time I go up to her desk. Her eyes roll back into her head and flutter closed. It is as though I am invisible to her. Either that, or she is purposefully trying to annoy me.  Her head bobs and weaves and she softly snores until I move away, and then she snaps awake and resumes teaching. After three tries, I've had it. I walk to the supply cupboard to see if there are anymore portfolio thingies in there. If she isn't going to give me one, I'm going to steal one...

And then I wake up.

Another dream - Darklin comes home excited because he's found a package of pens - purple with cushioned barrels and purple ink (I think Bic makes these), and he knows I've been looking for pens like these forever. I am really happy, really excited, and hug him squeefully before tearing open the package and holding the fistful of pens in my hand. 

Then I wake up.

In another dream, I'm encouraged at an event to promote my podcast by Peirce Brosnan. He assures me it will be fine. I step into a weird kind of witness stand and proclaim that my podcast is awesome and everyone should listen to it. I feel a bit braggarty, a little red-faced with shame, but I've been told to do it, so I do it. All the men in the crowd turn their backs on me and walk away, but Oprah and Whoopi Goldberg (wtf?) come running on stage to congratulate me and tell me how awesome it is that I'm confident enough to speak so positively about my podcast. 

Then I wake up.

I've been listening to a Jungian podcast (jungian.libsyn.ca) that has some material on dream interpretation. I've also been reading The Hero With A Thousand Faces by Joseph Campbell, The Writer's Journey by Chris Vogler, and Inner Works by Robert Johnston. My subconscious is heavily loaded with symbology and mythology at the moment.  I still don't have a frackin' clue what these dreams mean, but I find it really amazing how well intending to remember my dreams is translating into actually remembering them and writing them down. I'm not quite ready to tackle interpretation - I feel intimidated, and almost afraid to discover what my subconscious is trying to tell me - but eventually, I will try my hand at it, and I want a whole collection of dreams to interpret when I'm ready to begin.