Wed Night/Thursday am--A Variety of Past Persons

I dreamed of my ex Michael last night. He looked rough but we had a quick fling. I can't believe I dreamed that because I never cheat on my husband, even in dreams I have self control. Mike was pretty smooth though, he was Rico Suave and so he got his way.
Then I dreamed of my old best friend Carla. Our friendship started in Kindergarten and ended when we were about 18 and she almost drove me into the guardrail on Storrow Drive. I have only dreamed of her twice or thrice in the past 30 years. She only represented fire as her hair was fiery red. She was in my dream when he fire happened in RI at the Nightclub. I'll have to tell that dream sometime. I dreamed of her on the anniversary of the RI Nightclub fire. But that was it.
Last night I dreamed she need me, an old friend. She needed a true old best friend. That's funny, I asked the same of her about 20 years ago and she didn't have the slightest interest. I wonder if my dream is true. I wonder if for some reason she needs me now.

Tuesday Evening, Wed am, Rankness

I had a million dreams but can only remember 2 small portions. One was of cleaning out all the deserts from my kitchen. I swooped them off the shelf, but in reality they are in my fridge mostly.
Then I dreamed I (excuse me for the following crassness) farted in work. A girl was nearby and said something. The next day, I went to work. I went to a meeting on healthcare. My stomach started to gurgle from the hot dogs they graced us with at lunch. I walked to the back of the room and as I turned to walk the few feet toward the double doors I farted. I never fart publically, I always make it to the ladies room. But i knew this was going to happen, after all I dreamed it.
I returned to the room shortly afterward though. I figured such is life.

The Co-Worker

I do this a lot. I dream about co-workers. It must creep them out or at least scare them. I dreamed I had a presentation due. John had his presentation ready and he was out the prior day yet I was in work the day prior and still didn't have my report ready. I was supposed to write something about my job and be able to summarize it and present it to the division and I absolutely could not come up with a slant on this report. I wasn't ready at all.
John no only had a report ready but it was high tech. It was presented in a thing that looked like one of those enclosed glass thingys churches put out on their lawn with the black removable letters. Except his was computerized. He kept pointing out one of the highlights in his report. He could do some sort of gift related entry in 7 seconds.

Mrs. Luke-- "Phonecall From Your Dad"

I dreamed I was with my my old neighbors; Mrs. Luke, a tall elegant woman with a short metro haircut and her daughter Debbie. The Lukes lived across the street from my family from 1965 to 1980. In the dream they were at my house for some reason- or somewhere like my house. My kitchen window at least cause that's where I first saw them, outside my kitchen window. It was a sunny beautiful day. So Mrs. Luke approaches me and said 'You have a phonecall from your Dad!" I'm thinkin my fathers dead. Who was this crackpot on the other end of her cell trying to pass themselves off as my Dad? Christ.
S'wanyway I went to have a chat with them and as I said something to Debbie my sister whose her best and oldest friend shows up and interrupts me and looks at me as if I'm not even talking and says 'Oh yeah' like she's listenin, and then she turns to Debbie and says, 'oh Debbie, blah blah blah blah blah..' and so it goes.
So I turn to Debbie afterward- when the tornado left, and her Mom was there, and I turn mostly to Debbie and I say 'myyyyy sister is as Ruuude as they everrrr can get. Bev has done this all my life, time and time again. She interrupts any and all conversations I am ever in and she doesn't act like a good sister and hasn't for a long time and blah blah blah'...and so it goes....
So Debbie looks at me and says "I agree".
Then Mrs. Luke, with her hand out to me and a cell phone in it says, "You have a call. It's from your Dad." I'm like, "my Dad is DEAD!"

This morning when I woke up and started telling my husband the dream I realized that my Dad is dead but so isn't Mrs. Luke. So then I start crying. They were happy tears though. My husband thought they were sad tears caused from not taking the call. He even says, "honey, he'll call back!" Of course that led me to laugh.
I said 'honey? Those were not tears of sadness, they were tears of gladness because I haven't seen my Dad in a dream in a long time. Well I didn't see him but you know what I mean. See him inside of a dream.

Mrs. Luke looked good too! I've had 3 dreams about her ever since Debbie gave me some of her belongings.

The Tiger

A-ha! I just saw a dog that looked like a Tiger on MSN news and remembered a dream I had last night of a tiger. He was trying to communicate with me, trying to make it's prescence known.
I dreamed twice before in my life of a Tiger. He appeared once in an underpass on the highway in another country. He curled up with me for a nap. Another time he appeared at a gate in an ancient land, in another time. I had traveled there in a vehicle in the air, down a path that was lit by God's light. I was dropped off at a gate which was surrounded by reeds and ancient ruins. The gate entered a circular tented area. I went through the gate as did my husband into this area and then the tiger sqeezed through the bars and joined us. Looking back out on the land behind us it was suddenly green pastures, with a cow grazing there.

Isaac A.

I do genealogy and it says on the Ellis Island records my ggrandfather Kasimierz traveled from Vilna Poland to live with his uncle L. Miller on Salem Street in Boston. He would later call for his wife and children. Salem Street was predominantly Jewish in 1905. But knowing about this Mueller/Miller would tell me something about my gg's mother Anna Mueller back in Poland pre 1900.
I have searched and searched for more info for this particular L. Miller in Boston. Then I found out that a guy I used to work with, Paul Solano, was also related to a Miller who came from Vilna to Boston. But his name was Isaac. I had a sneaking suspicion that my relative was also Isaac and the L may have looked like an I on the Ellis Island records.
So early this morning I was awoke by my cat right smack in the middle of a dream. It was of a round older man, slightly balded, standing in a kitchen pantry drying dishes or something, and he told me his name was
Isaac Alexander.

What a trip!

About 2 Weeks Ago--

About three weeks ago I had a unnerving dream. I was in some couples home. I watched the wife call a contractor and get a price quote on work on the house. I had a feeling she was a spendthrift. It's not so bad to get a pricequote from a contractor but I had the feeling she did it without her husbands knowledge or without thinking about future bills. She was a spanish dark haired woman. She was a nice enough person.
Then I saw her husband. He was standing in the livingroom. I could hear the sound of someone sharpening the blade of a knife, one side, then the other. One side, then the other. I finally looked and that's just what he was doing. Sitting next to him on the white couch were the children. A preteen girl and a little boy.

Then I saw blood and it wasn't the kids, it was the wife. I knew she was dead.

The next day I checked the papers to find out if any such thing had happened and found the case of Cynthia Canon in Wolcott Connecticut. They have 2 kids. They were losing their house, but I don't know if she had construction done to it recently.
I often wonder why these men just don't divorce their wives instead of kill them. It seems so much easier.