While talking to a friend the other night, I realized that I could probably keep my blog nicely filled out by writing about some of the dreams I have. I remember my dreams almost every morning. Some of them are mundane and not really worth repeating. For example, when I've taken Ambien, I usually dream about not being able to fall asleep, being hungry, or going to work (though in my waking moments on that drug, I battle flatscreen television-stealing gypsies with my broadsword and swim with talking sharks- go figure). Most of my dreams, however, have been fodder for screenplays and short films. And a few of them are so bizarre, they wouldn't even be re-creatable with today's modern cinematic technology. The dream I recounted for him was on the cinematic side.
The background: I had just returned from Comic-Con, with geek pop culture fresh on my mind. Rising to the top of my thoughts, of course, was Lost. I had an initial suspicion that the current viral marketing campaign was part of a contest of sorts (I've since kind of given up on that idea). My hope/dream/thought was that the winner might win a walk-on spot, based on the fact that we had to do video "interviews" for "recruitment."
The dream: I was on a plane to... somewhere overseas... to audition for Lost. I had to get off the plane because I somehow didn't have my boarding pass. I went to go stand in line and realized I didn't have my passport, either. Two guys in front of me took my place on the plane (I don't do math in my dreams), and I was forced to wait for the next flight. Luckily, there was a group of Lost folk in the airport, and they were practicing for the upcoming auditions. I decided to join them. Josh Holloway was there and decided he was going to help me get the role (despite my massive crush on Sawyer, that's about as racy as it got).
There was an obstacle course that we needed to get through. After a bit of coaching by Sawyer, I took off. I ran across a tropical field to a sort of Mayan temple. I had to scale the side of the temple. I was surprised by how quickly I was able to get to my goal: a large wax candle. My mission was to bring the melted wax of this candle back down to the ground.
I scooped the wax up in my hand. This presented a problem: the temple was suddenly quite steep and there was no way I would be able to make it back down using only one hand. I decided the only solution was to hold the wax in my mouth. I ladled the warm wax into my mouth, where it began to solidify. I feared that I would choke, but I climbed back down. At the bottom, I handed off the wax, which at this point had turned to a kind of glowing piece of amber, and boarded the plane, now confident in my ability to get the role.
This next part happens quite often in my dreams: the plane began taxiing, but could not take off (if you ask me, that's a pretty lazy metaphor that my mind has concocted for my film career, but I'll take it). We wound our way through the streets of Manhattan in this jumbo jet, never quite able to get enough runway for liftoff.
Somehow, my friend and I were in... some tropical location (Hawaii, maybe). He confessed to me that he was actually one of the co-creators of Lost, but that J.J. Abrams, Carlton Cuse, and Damon Lindelof kind of cut him out of the picture. He proved this by revealing where the show was headed (and curses! I don't remember what he said! Guess I will have to keep watching...) I asked if he was upset. He confessed that he initially was, but that he was too excited about his latest project (more on that soon) to let it really bother him.
After that, things either got too blurry to recall or I woke up...
