For any of you who may have wondered how ones daily events and past can influenced ones dreams, or a the very least, mine, then last night I had a very good example.  First of all, last night I was playing video poker, and there were some other people using the chat applet.  One of them went by the name WingsFan (and then a number, but that doesn't matter).  Also, some of the people had a brief discussion regarding wrestling.

  Okay, one of the dreams I had took place in a condensed version of an old highschool gym that the junior high used.  When I was in junior high, we sometimes played hockey in P.E (plastic sticks and puck on the gym floor).  Well, in the dream, a bunch of the WWF wrestlers play hockey, and at the end of a game, they let one audience member come down and be a goalie, of sorts.

  One thing you have to know about this dream is that the wrestlers wear their wrestling costumes, with no padding, you're allowed to move the puck by whatever means you choose, and ironically, there's hardly any violence at all.

  Well, the game was a tie, and I was picked to play for the final point.  This was a common thing, apparently, because it was common practice that the chosen player be a male, and that the opposing team place three female wrestlers right in front of him.  So, there they are in front of me.

  By dream knowledge, I know what their scheme to come is.  The play starts, and the three females lunge towards me, and fall on me, one of them placing her hand on my crotch.  This is meant to serve as a further distraction causing me to let my guard down so their team can win.

  Well, they didn't count on my self control.  I, for the most part, ignored the females, and turned my attention to the puck.  You should know that the game is being played across the width of the gym, instead of the length, plus the gym is somewhat smaller than regulation width (remember I said condensed version), so the area is fairly tightly packed, and most of the people are laying on the floor because of tripping over bodies.

  Someone tries to score, but the puck doesn't quite go in far enough.  I pick up the puck and throw it towards the other goal, but someone gets in the way (the female's hand is still on my crotch).  The puck is sent back towards me again, but doesn't go in.

  Cut to the end of this back and forth, I pick it up, stumble my way over to the goal, and throw the thing in.  The players do have sticks, but they are of limited use, since you don't want to whack the other people.  So I win the game.

  When the whole thing is over, and the audience is leaving, I get handed a small poster (of what, I still do not know) that was signed by a number of the wrestlers, but they signed it in such a way that some of their names were actually part of the art of the poster, and it took me a while to read, and even notice, all the names.

  The Rock, wrote an extensive note across it, but it was as if he used a pen nearly out of ink, because I could hardly read any of it.  (BTW, I call this a poster, but it was only about 10" tall and 15" wide.)

  From what I could read of his words, he was both congratulating me as well as threatening me, but it was entirely character, so it was nothing serious.  One of the females had written something brief indicating her appreciation for my self control, but it was very indirect.  (FYI: I don't watch wrestling or hockey.)

  There was also a side "storyline" that occurred before the game continued.  Apparently a number of the audience members are regulars, and the wrestlers and announcers know them.  There seemed to be a sort of competition between a man and his ex-wife.

  From what I can gather, they're trying to get each other to do things that they instruct.  The example might serve to better explain.  The announcer told the man to pull up his pants, or shake them or something, and the guy did, then the announcer said, this is from (whatever he said to indicate her), and then the man said, oh damn, and sat down disappointed.