I woke from a freaky recurring dream at 6:15 this morning. It was this dream I have where I go into a little store – it feels like it’s in San Francisco. It’s full of things that interest me – digital gadgets, books on design and the like. I distinctly recall seeing a book written by Rebecca Blood.

Tonight the shop keep actually spoke to me (he looked a bit like Jeff Veen, you know – with the goatee – which is weird because I’ve never met Jeff Veen). Anyway, he said, “Oh, Brad, I’m really interested in your Phd thesis about how capturing moments digitally is useless because people don’t recall experiences in the ways we think they do.”

The even freakier thing is that I had a response (though I can’t remember what I said…damn!). It’s very rare that I hear people talking in my dreams. It’s even more rare that I respond. By the way, I know what the shop keep said about my Phd thesis doesn’t really make any sense – it’s a dream…let it slide.

Ok, I HAVE to know…what do you think this means?

More remembered stuff from my (weird) recurring dream:
By the way this dream always starts off with me going to Geneva, NY, searching to capture the stories of my family from my older relatives (As far as I know I have no relatives in Geneva, NY). I always go to this beautiful arts and crafts style house. In the back of this house is a restaurant that is never open – oh, it always has the same name, but I can’t remember what it was. Anyway, it always feel like I’m sneaking around the outside of the house, trying to uncover a story or something. Then I go back to my car and realize that the car I got into wasn’t mine, so I walk further down the street to my car and find some relatives sitting on a bench outside a different house – the house that is theirs – the first house wasn’t theirs at all.

Ok, so I chat with them for a while and then all of a sudden, I’m walking around this college campus. Invariably I walk through a couple shops and classrooms with classes in session. I recall sitting at a table in one of the stores and trying a product that was some sort of gooey cherry-flavored lubricant for your lips.

After I wander around for a while, I go back to my relative’s house (somehow their house is connected to the campus) and invariably I’ve lost my mobile phone and my digital camera (one of my real life paranoias).

Then the room fills up with relatives because we’re all going to meet a relative named Thurston – or some other richy-ritch name – Thurston seems to sound right though. Apparently, he’s SO charismatic and fun and interesting to be around – I think because he apparently tells good stories.

Well, Thurston tells us a story, then I leave and suddenly I’m in the shop I spoke about above, in San Francisco (oh, the magic of dreams!).