Do you remember your dream from Friday-Saturday night? I believe 'twas Mid-summer Night – the summer solstice. Why it is called “Mid-summer” I do not know.
You get to have another in the middle of the summer anyway.
A word of caution:
“Friday night dream on Saturday told
Will come true no matter how old.”
So wipe the fairydust from your eyes and tell us what your subconscious concocted…
“Last night I dreamed I was in Manderlay again…”
I worked, so no sleep, so no dreams. The Masters of the Universe film was on TV, though, so my night was like a dream anyway.
I dreamed about my dad last night. The details are sketchy, but I think I was showing him around my place of work.
Coincidentally, this morning is also the 23rd anniversary of his death. So I’m guessing that particular dream won’t be coming true. If it does, I’ll definitely post about it here though.
I was writing a paper on Tetris, using an old Macintosh. It didn’t have a hard drive and I forgot my flash drive, so I couldn’t save my work. When I went outside, there was snow on my car. I was also having a affair with my teacher, but she dumped me because I had too many text books.
Alas, I don’t remember any dream from last night. But the weather was pleasant and the windows were open, so I was lulled to sleep by the sounds of crickets and frogs, firecrackers, bottle rockets, and roman candles. A sure sign of summer: the fireworks stands opened a few days ago, Arkansas tomatoes are at the roadside produce stand, and all is right with the world.
A disturbing dream last night: I called one of the women I’m friends with to thank her for helping my daughter with her college arrangements for this Fall, but she wouldn’t talk to me, just listen silently on the other end.
Then I woke up and realized I had been talking to my wife, whose Social Security death benefits make up the bulk of my daughter’s college fund.
I don’t remember most of my dreams last night, but I do recall that they were story-driven, and they were happy, or at least content and comfortable dreams. I do know that somewhere in here I was talking to Trent Reznor, and my old boss from about a decade ago who, for some reason, had a mullet and handlebar mustaches. Then there was a TV show that I hadn’t been watching, but everyone said was good, so I started to watch it but I couldn’t understand the plot. There was an island with the main character’s home on it.
That’s all I can remember.
I remembered it, but then forgot it a few hours after I woke up. Doh. All I remember is it was action-packed and surreal, as are most of my dreams.
Oh wait, now I remember a part of it. I was at a sushi restaurant with a stranger. it was really small. Family Guy was on the TV. There were a bunch of Japanese girls with way too much make-up on. I think I went to the sushi place after the choir performance at the Mormon-esque church?? I don’t remember the action part, but I know it had some.
My damn dreams never make sense, although I almost never have nightmares so I guess it’s fair.
Midsummer’s Day is actually the 24th of June, one of the old Quarter Days - the others being Lady Day (sometime New Year’s Day, and the memory still persists in the date of the end of the tax-year, duly shifted for the change-over to the Gregorian Calendar), Michaelmas Day and Christmas Day. So summer begins on the 21st and then the 24th is Midsummer’s Day. 
Endless half-awake/half-asleep. Confused half-dreams.
Puck did not show. And he still owes me tree-fiddy. 
I dreamed about time travel, and talking to an off-duty cop while sitting at his kitchen table. I was very upset about something, and trying not to show it, and he kept getting paler as he looked at files I was handing him from a briefcase.
I’m reasonably certain it’s not going to come true, but it probably means I need to go ahead and write that damn story after all.
I was watching a football-esque sort of game between about 15-20 tomatoes and 15-20 hard boiled eggs (shells removed) in a full sized stadium with about 70,000 in attendance. The tomatoes/eggs had arms and legs and were each about 3 feet tall. In the center of the playing field was a large plastic container (roughly 20m x 20m) with a salad in it. If any player incurred a penalty, they were put into the salad. There was an egg-slicing machine for this purpose.
At some point I found a crane and had to lift several large (1 cubic meter) croutons out of the salad and place them on a flatbed truck. I put a tarp over the croutons and drove the truck to a huge processing plant with multiple levels of conveyer belts. The croutons were ground-up and dumped into a volcano-like pit in the ground.
I think it’d be fantastic if this were to come true.
Whoa, I had a dream about Trent Reznor too. He was racing motocross, and I was hanging out with him and his friends. I was totally in love with him, but his girlfriend was there. Then after the race, he totally ignored me, and I was really bummed.
Damn Trent, why you gotta hurt me like that?
I was on an alternate world where I lived under the ocean in a pressurized habitat as did everyone else. This was due to the fact that it stormed continuously on the surface making life there miserable. I battled a giant cold-water armoured crab and returned with my catch to have a feast with all the other ocean-dwellers.
I dreamed that the doctors I work for decided to open an annex office far away, and when we worked there, we would have to spend the night. In a hotel room. And sleep in the same bed with the doctor we worked with. It was weird enough, sleeping in the bed with a doctor I was familiar with, but then we got a new doctor, and he was a perv. He wanted me to get freaky with me, and I was really skeeved out by it because 1)he’s a doctor I’d have to work with almost every day and 2)he was married. I was going to do it with him, because I was horny and he was hot, but I was still very squicked out by it. Fortunately, I woke up before it got to that point.
Bare outlines of a detailed, long dream:
I met a nurse at a party and she diagnosed me with stage 3 melanoma because of a mole on my back
My husband was sure I wouldn’t recover and I spent a lot of time sobbing and grieving over all the people I’d miss and the things I’d never get to do (mostly never having children)
The nurse turned out to be an imposter who told me a lie to make herself look important and smart
Completely enraged, I called her a “rawbone cunt.”
So that was the highlight of an otherwise miserable dream: coining a seriously bad insult. Rawbone cunt. Awesome.
For exactly the reason it sounds like: It’s the day in the middle of summer. Here in the States, we get a lot of variation in temperature, but not all that much variation in daylight, so we define “summer” as “the time of year when it’s hot out”. This roughly corresponds to the period from solstice to equinox, so folks desiring a greater degree of precision than is really justified will call those dates the “beginning” and “end” of summer.
However, the British Isles, due to the Gulf Stream and their high latitude, get a lot of variation in the amount of daylight, but not all that much variation in temperature. So it’s natural that they define “summer” as “the time of year when the days are long”. And defined that way, Midsummer’s Day really is the middle of summer.
Alas, though, I don’t remember any dreams I might have had that night. I did, however, see a Shakespeare show a couple of nights ago.
Oh dear. I forgot it was Midsummer. That makes last night’s dream kind of disturbing.
It was quite action-film violent – whatever city I was in was something of a war zone, or at least a lot of people were shooting each other. This girl (as far as I know I don’t know who she really is, but I don’t remember what she looked like) had become pregnant and was just telling the father – a guy I definitely do know. He’s a friend of mine, ridiculously good-looking, pleasant and calm and friendly and married besides. Has a dazzling smile, all that.
Well, she had just recently found out she was pregnant with his child and, during this attack or whatever, she was pinned underneath some debris. She called out for him to help her, telling him only then that she was carrying his child, he had to save her…
He looked at her with a blankly curious expression, pulled out a gun, and shot her.
I saw this from where I was hiding behind a car. He looked up and he saw me there and started to advance, raising his gun to shoot me too. I waved my hands and turned my head away from the dead girl, trying to convey that no, really, I hadn’t seen whatever he just did over there and I really didn’t want to get shot for it. He flashed me one of his trademark big charming smiles – just with a bit of an edge to it this time – and walked off without putting a bullet in my brain.
All in all I really hope that’s not portentous…
The dream I had Friday night/Saturday morning was weird. I was at a Mexican buffet with some people who were paying tribute to a Mexican comic actress who was dying of cancer. Afterward I had to get a ride to the Amtrak station so I could board a train home with my mom and grandma. I had already arrived at the station when I realized I’d forgotten my copy of “Japanese Schoolgirl Inferno” (a real book, by Patrick Macias) back at the restaurant, and I’d miss the train if I went back for it. Fortunately the person who gave me a ride (I don’t remember who) was kind enough to go back for the book and bring it to me right before I was to board the train.
I’m rather baffled by the dream I had. I was a young Egyptian man having a secret love affair with an American soldier who was eight years my senior, during WWI. He didn’t know what gay men did together in bed, so I was drawing him pictures and explaining it all to him.
Being a white female, this was…odd to say the least.