Sunday, April 29, 2007

I was over at Erica's place, reading her post about dreams, and it reminded my of one of my own.

When I was an undergrad, I was lucky enough to take several classes with Dr. S. He was smart, funny, and hard. He expected a lot, and that's what he got. I had taken Mineralogy with Dr. C in the Fall and had to write a scientific paper on the mineral of my choice, garnets in this case. I fucking hated writing that damn paper! It was the most boring thing I've ever done.

So when I got to the next course with Dr. S, I begged and pleaded to not have to write a paper, I wanted to do some research. So we did- we analyzed the clays in the stream bed of a local stream that travels through the property of a large copper plant in my area. It was awesome! I'll tell you more about it at a later date.

Anyway, Georgia has an Academy of Science, and every year students can present their research to a panel of experts. The best/most interesting win accolades and their name in the paper and a pretty certificate, but the best part- the winner gets his/her abstract published in their annual magazine.

The Geology department paid for the rooms, since it was South Georgia and too far to drive. Dr. S had a greenish bluish Firebird (a guy thing I'm sure). Most of the other students going and their professors rode in the college bus, but for some reason Dr. S and I rode down in his car.

Now keep in mind that at that point, I had gotten drunk with several of those professors on the geology field trips we took. They were my teachers, but also sort of my friends.

Ever seen the DeNiro version of Cape Fear? One of the creepiest movies I've ever seen. The rape scene? Where he bites her face? And breaks her arm?


That dream beats out the I'm running from Frankenstein up the stairs but can't make my legs move dream from my childhood as the scariest fucking thing to ever happen inside my head.

The night before we're supposed to go to the Academy, I dreamt that scene- Dr. S as DeNiro and me as the poor secretary. Damn! I woke up terrified and sweating.

It took a lot of courage to get in that damn car and drive the 4 hours, just the two of us. I never told him about the dream. Even though that was at least 15 years ago, I still remember it.

Just looking at that picture give me the heebie jeebies...

1 comment:

Erica said...

Heck, half of Bensonhurst looks kinda like that...hardly scary at all. A swift knee to the hoo-ha's, and he'll be down for the count in no time.