I was walking along the sidewalk with Jimmy Wang in a large town resembling Morristown. The sidewalks weren't very crowded and neither were the streets. It was a nice walk on a nice day. We were playing catch with a ball-like object. On one of my throws to Jimmy, I completely misaimed and the object went crashing into a glass window. The object bounced off the window, but not before shattering a little bit of it. We both heard the sound of glass shattering, but it took us a while before we found the broken part of the window. The broken spot of the window was in the lower right corner. The window had a Venetian blind behind it, so we pulled it down to cover the damage.

   As we pulled down the shades, a lady approached the window from inside the buliding. As she opened the shades, she saw us and invited us inside for some cookies. We happily accepted her offer.

~~~~~~~~~~

   In another portion of my dream, my father had invented a time machine. I instinctively knew the inventor was my father, even though he was Caucasian. I was with my father and my brother inside an underground laboratory where the time machine was built. The laboratory was located at the heart of some extensive basement network. In order to reach it, you had to pass through a revolving door and many heavy steel (or perhaps lead) double doors, and also walk down many stone spiral staircases.

   The laboratory was a grand room, consisting of an elaborately decorated and ornamental rug and many gallant pillars. A projector was set up in the center of the room that cast an image on the back wall. The space illuminated by the projector's light was the time warp region.

   My father, who happened to be a Ph.D. in the dream (though not in real life), was standing behind the projector and to the left a bit. I was standing to the right of the bottom-left pillar. My brother was standing next to the top-left pillar.

   The professor (my dad) told my brother to put a junky ring on the carpet in front of the projector, where it would be illuminated by the projector's light. My brother pulled off a ring that said "69" or something and placed it on the rug. Upon seeing the ring, I recognized it as a fraternity ring, and suddenly I remembered all the fraternities my brother had been in. I was reminded of a wall with advertisements encouraging students to join certain fraternities. Every fraternity of that school (whichever school it was) was listed. I pointed out all the fraternities my brother had been in, which numbered around 5 or 6. I was reminded of the sloped, carpeted passageway at WPHS between the commons and the beginning of the 200 wing, where all the college brochures are posted. However, in my dream, the fraternity advertisements were not all posted in a horizontal line, but rather, scattered randomly across the wall, surrounding a bulletin board.

   Anyways, the professor pressed a button on the projector/time machine, and the image projected on the wall played the scene backwards: I watched my brother pick up the ring on the carpet and walk backwards towards the stone pillar.

   For the next demonstration, the inventor didn't require any setup. He pressed the time machine again, and suddenly, all three of us present in the laboratory were teleported three months into the future. We were outside in a huge pit that was a half-mile in diamater dug by a rock excavation team. The inventor's face lit up with an "Eureka!" expression and he exclaimed that the time machine must have already been invented for six months (even though we had only fast-forwarded three months in time; there must have been some relativistic time dilation involved that only the professor had considered). The professor was holding something from the laboratory three months earlier, which was proof of the time travel.

~~~~~~~~~~

   There was a lady trying to find and get into the professor's laboratory. She looked like Velma from the Scooby Doo movies, except her hair was a shade closer to black and shorter, and her overall appearance was more shady and spy-like. She seemed to know how to reach the underground laboratory, and in my dream, I followed her from a cameraman's perspective. She eventually reached the grand hall of the laboratory, and she was astonished by the fantastic equipment and grandeur of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~

   A final tidbit of dream I recall involved flipping through a magazine - probably Parade, part of the Sunday Star Ledger - and coming upon an article about weight loss. The article centered around a once-obese man who had lost a ton of weight.

   This concludes this dream. After several months of dream recording, I have yet to recognize a dream while in a dream.

I was anticipating Chris Kuo's piano recital, even though it had already occurred in real life. For some reason, I needed to go to Chris's dress rehearsal, but my tight schedule prevented such a trip. Nick Apostolopoulos assured me that it would be alright and that the actual concert was next week.

~~~~~~~

   My entire class was at Memorial Junior School. I am pretty confident that it was MJS, even though it resembled Mountview Road School, the elementary school I attended from 3rd to 5th grade. Apart from my class, the school was deserted. We broke into the kitchen, where we found most of the food packaged in huge transparent plastic bags. Most people were too lazy to open the plastic bag packages, so they headed for the potato chips. I opened a bag of Cheese Nips that was packaged normally. I also picked up a bag of Cheese Nips packaged in a transparent plastic bag. I was so hungry that I stuffed the entire plastic bag of Cheese Nips in my mouth. Then I realized that the plastic was disgusting, so I wanted to spit it out.

   Mr. Seipp was standing near a door in the middle of the room. He took out a ring of keys and unlocked the door. He opened it to reveal a back room. Again, everything was packaged in giant transparent plastic bags, except for some food in the far right corner of the room. There, we found long rolls - those baguettes used for Subway, Blimpie, and Quizno's submarine sandwiches. There were about five rolls or so, and each was probably five to seven feet long. Next to the rolls on their right were piles of fillings and stuffings to load up the rolls with to make subs.

   I watched Ken Kawamoto slice off a portion of a roll and choose his fillings. Then I made my sub. The ingredients to choose from included pork sung, chicken, and white carrots. There were no utensils to use, so we all used our hands to grab the fillings we wanted. There was very little pork sung left, so Chris Kuo refilled the pork sung bowl. I said that there had been enough in the bowl, but he said that since I was his guest, he wanted to maintain plentiful servings. I believe this feast may have been a celebration feast for Chris Kuo's successful piano recital.

I vaguely remember dreaming other things, but I only recall this short dream segment. I was in the master bedroom of my home. On top of the bed was a desktop computer. Chris Jeng was sitting in front of it, studying Chinese on the computer. I thought to myself, "How diligent of him." The one phrase I remember reading on the screen was:

   The first character is nu3 and the second is an1. The first characters means female, girl, or woman. The second character, which is my first name in Chinese, means quiet, safety, or comfort. The two words put together do not make a real phrase. However, if they did make a real phrase, perhaps it would mean "female tranquility," "girl's safety," or "a woman's comfort."

I dreamt that for one of my language arts summer assignments, the assignment for Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five, I also had to read this novel called Concerto Mozart, which was part of a sixty-seven-book series, and then compare the two novels.

   I also dreamt that I was at Montville Township High School, except that I was in college. I was taking a class there that started at 1 PM, and I got to class late.

   The MTHS in my dreams had only a small upstairs portion, which resembled Newark Academy's upstairs science wing. I owned a room in that hallway, which might have been my personal dormitory. However, its main purpose was for playing Nintendo 64, which was hooked up to a small TV in the corner.

~~~~~~~

   My dad was driving David Bentrovato, Jonathan Huang, and me in his car on Whippany Road. We were heading in the direction of Hanover Avenue. In front of us, we saw Mrs. Gomez (John Gomez's mother) riding her bike. She made a left on Park Avenue, and I remember wondering to myself where the Gomezes lived. In real life, I have no idea who Mrs. Gomez is or what she looks like, but in the dream, I was absolutely sure the woman riding her bike was Mrs. Gomez. I believe she was riding home from a WPMB band parents meeting, though in real life, John Gomez is not in band.

   My dad seemed to be following Mrs. Gomez and also made a left onto Park Avenue. Jonathan Huang asked my dad where we were going, and my dad said we were going to pick up Hilary Shui.

~~~~~~~

   I was in a stadium or amphitheater. Mr. Sciaino was being featured as part of his high school band, except the band consisted of all adults, and they reminded me of the Hanover Park High School band, though Mr. Sciaino never attended school or taught there, nor have I ever listened to or seen the HPHS band play. Anyways, Mr. Sciaino and his high school band played a song and played it very crisply. They were an all-brass band and the notes were played very precisely and together. They ended the piece with a stinger (as is often the case in a John Philip Sousa march), except one trumpet player played the stinger twice, the first time on the correct beat with the rest of the band and then again one beat later, after the song had ended. The audience laughed; they probably thought it was done purposely. The trumpet player had a head full of grayish-silver hair, bushy, curly, and short, like Mr. Kocot's, and a face like Kocot's, too.

   I missed the first half of the song because Mr. Sabatino told me to go change. Everyone was wearing suits and ties, except me. I was wearing beige long pants that were much too short for me - they looked more like capri pants on me. As for my top, I believe I was wearing my gray XC T-shirt, the one with the slogan "Trample the weak, hurdle the dead" on the back.

   So I went back to my dormitory room in the upstairs section of MTHS to change. On the way back to rejoin the band, I passed a middle-aged couple asking directions to the band area, where they said a band parents meeting would be taking place. Somebody was already helping them, so I kept walking.

~~~~~~~

   The college course I was taking at MTHS was run by a lady assistant, a male assistant, and a professor. The male assistant said that the only homework was to skim the assigned reading pages. He emphasized that this was to be done outside of class, and not during class. He then said that this class was an easy class that was not too hard (talk about redundancy). He said it was "one of those classes you can sleep in."

   Greg Andre, one of his older sisters, and my brother were all in the class with me. The room had raised levels like an auditorium might:

   Between each row of four (it could have been more; it probably was) desks, the floor was raised up one step. I sat at the desk nearest the door, which I identified with a magenta circle. The right side of the room branched off into what seemed to be a science lab of some sort. Oh, and yes, the class was stuck with those "midget desks," as Mr. Kleinbaum referred to them in the very first class I had of his.

   After the male assistant's briefing and course overview, the actual professor appeared. She was a middle-aged woman who still had well-preserved vestiges of youthful beauty, with dark blond hair that was tied up.

   She said our first assignment was to draw something for one hour (from 11 AM to 12 PM, which contradicts what I earlier said about the class starting at 1 PM), but I don't recall what it was we had to draw.

~~~~~~~

   I was up on stage with Mr. Sabatino and the rest of the band. I had both my alto sax and my clarinet. I thought we were performing our 2006 marching band show for Mr. Sciaino's high school band, but just as we got ready to play, the band starting leaving, filing out of the auditorium. I was relieved at first, being nervous before about playing my sax solo, which I was afraid to screw up on. The solo itself was the same as my WPMB 2006 solo in real life, and when I fingered through it in my dream to refresh my memory, the notes were the same as real life as well. However, all of a sudden, I thought to myself, "Come back, people! This will be good practice for me, playing in front of an audience!" But they left anyhow. Mr. Sabatino started conducting and the band starting playing while I was still wetting my alto sax reed.

   I was sitting in the 2nd row, in the left portion, but all the way to the right, by the center aisle. The row in front of me, where the flutes were supposed to be (though in real life, where the clarinets are), was completely empty.

   We were playing a song called Fireplace (which happens to be what we named Set 15 of the drill pages), but none of the flutes or alto saxes came in where they were supposed to (flutes because they weren't there, altos I don't know why, and I because I was still wetting my reed). Just as Mr. Sabatino pointed out that we didn't come in, I woke up.

   This dream diary entry jumped around a lot, and I believe this kind of writing may have been influenced by my morning reading of Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five, which does jump around somewhat "in the telegraphic schizophrenic manner of tales of the planet Tralfamadore, where the flying saucers come from. Peace."

I was in the gymnasium, the one used for graduation and physical education, and alas, the only gym at WPHS. I tried practicing my juggling, but I was being mocked by other students.

   A group of students, myself included, were playing a game. I remember that Tim Chiang hid behind a mountain of clothes - sweaters, sweatpants, sweatshirts, mostly gym clothes. We played several games, and at the end of our little gaming session, Janice Matlon was declared the winner. During the games, Alex Szajko was next to me often. This reminded me of the cross country (XC) team. When Janice was announced the winner, I remember thinking to myself, "She sure deserves it. She tries so hard. That is why, I suppose, she was made a captain."

   Everyone had to change in the gymnasium, boys and girls together. The boys changed rapidly, while the girls proceeded slowly and with great caution, avoiding exposure to boys' lustful eyes. I did not want to see them while they changed; I wished to give them privacy. However, once when I turned around to see if everyone was done changing, I caught a glimpse of the girls changing, but fortunately, none of them were naked, for they all still had undershirts on, and I was disgusted at seeing the girls even thus so, with nothing vulgar exposed, but simply stripped to their undergarments. I turned away with haste. Other girls were changing behind a table, trying to use it for partial concealment.

   I remember we were all lying prostrate on our stomachs on the gym floor for one of the games. The game started and in less than ten seconds, I believe it was over, for it seemed a game of tag where you became an "it" once you were tagged, and considering our close proximity to each other, an outstretched hand sufficed in transferring our disease, our "itness."

   I remember laying on my stomach with Alex Szajko to my left but nobody to my right. Or perhaps there was somebody, but the person was standing a little distance off, if there were a person to my right. On Alex's left, there was a small gap as well between him and the next person.

   After the game, we left the gym through its main entrance that leads to the gym lobby area. However, in my dream, I was issued into a hallway. It was a dark passage, dimly lit by oil lamps or something of the such. On my right, I passed many oddly clothed classmates, dressed in extravagant or peculiar costumes.

   I remember seeing Lulu Tsao in a tanktop, a ragged, worn, cloth-like rag that reminded me of filthy, impoverished, orphan children, namely from a scene in Oliver Twist. I remarked to her my thoughts and bewilderment to find her in such raiment, but she didst not reply. I passed her by, but not before I heard Kate Mayans, who was next to her, whisper in her ear, "Anthony doesn't know about it, yet." That was when I realized Lulu, Kate, and all the other actors and actresses were dressed for some sort of performance.

   I turned to my left, and I found rows and rows of clothing apparel - costumes for the theater production. I was walking in a pack with other non-actors, and as we all gathered our bearings and surroundings, we expressed our realizations to each other in excited whisperings that this play's performance called for the involvement of the general public - of the audience! In our puerile excitement, we all hastily rummaged through our costume gallery, attempting to pick out the one that suited us best. I was drawn to a collared shirt with a rainbow-colored tie already attached to it. However, I was not the only one. Ken Kawamoto's reaching hand grasped the cotton material just as mine did. I feared a struggled would ensue, but Ken diverted such a scene by pointing out that there were duplicates of the costume underneath the costume we both had a hand on currently. I relinquished my grip, allowing Ken to take the first costume in that rack, and settled for a duplicate underneath. After Ken and I had donned our shirts and rainbow ties, I recalled seeing Mr. Sciaino approaching. All I recall of Mr. Sciaino's attire was a rainbow-colored clown's wig and a yellow hula hoop- or pom-pom-like mass bound around his ankles and trailing over his feet onto the ground. Mr. Sciaino looked at Ken's and my matching costumes. He chuckled at their comic nature. That was when I woke up, having slept only six hours, though thinking I had slept much more due to the seeming length of my dream. However, I felt like I slept only six hours because I felt sore and tired all over.