I was taking a class taught by Captain Victoria Gates from Castle. I’m not sure if it was actually her, but it looked like her and was just as frightening and intimidating as the character. The class met in a small study or library, where the lights were dim and the walls were mahogany and lined with books. The room was just big enough for the large table, “Professor” Gates’ chair at the head by the door, and the students’ chairs around the table.
We were going over a textbook, and she was mercilessly calling on unprepared students to share what they found interesting about the reading. I hadn’t done the reading and was searching the book for something to share. When she called my name, I flipped through the book to find any term I could throw out. I landed on the section about “ITS,” a term that referred to one’s desire to be like God. I was trying to make up something to say, so I commented that I found interesting the thin line between the ITS, wanting to be like God, and another term that referred to one’s desire to be God. Apparently I wasn’t far off-base with this, and Gates proceeded to elaborate on the subject. She showed us a mathematical equation to calculate the difference between wanting to be like God and wanting to be God. ((a^2 – b^2) / c^2) / 9. Or something like that.
After class, or perhaps in a completely separate dream, I was driving down a busy road. At a red light, I came to a stop next to an old man who was half in my lane and half in the shoulder. I noticed that Kevin James was standing nearly in the middle of the intersection. He was passing out promotional donuts from a local shop to drivers as they went by. When the light turned green, I rolled down my window and drove closer to Kevin so that I could get a donut. I was close enough but did not anticipate the donut to be 2 pounds and as wide as a dinner plate! Luckily I was able to keep my grip on the free treat. I think at that point, I was no longer driving but walking. As I walked past a Dunkin Donuts filled with people I knew, I peeked my head in to say hello. “Just wanted to say hi,” I said. They looked at me like I were a traitor, since I had the ginormous donut in hand from their competitor. “Get outta here,” one of the patrons mumbled.
Later in the dream, Cinderella was in the woods with her mother and father, who was a giant, angry, Gandalf-like man with claws. Her mother was trying to reason with “Gandalf,” but he was focused on trying to get Cinderella, who was running away and trying to hide. Cinderella was also tearing apart a foam mat or pillow and throwing chunks at the giant. Her mother told her not to tear apart the whole thing, because they would need proof later that she had been alive (or something like that). Her mother was also trying to create a list of all of Cinderella’s nicknames and aliases so she can register them for protection.