The Big Week, Southern Gothic Lit, and Dreams

So, this week is the week of ultimate suspense leading up to two events which, coincidentally, are due to occur on the same day, Sunday, May 2nd. The most important of these events is, of course, the scheduled date of my sister (I say sister, but we're really not 100% sure due to the uncertain sonograms). Though my mom is due this Sunday, it's very likely, considering the size of the baby at this stage, that she'll go into labor any day now - I keep feverishly checking my cell phone in case I receive a call from my mom saying that she's on her way to the hospital to deliver, in which case I would use any means to travel from my current location to the hospital so that I could be with her. I'm rather hoping that the baby comes early, as the other big event on Sunday is my confirmation, which requires my presence particularly for the baptism. My grandparents will be coming up on Friday in order to witness this event, and I must prepare a speech in response to the prompt, "Who is Jesus to me?" to present to the elders of the church on Saturday night. Going along with confirmation Sunday, this past weekend served as our preparation weekend. The confirmation class went on a retreat (without their mentors) to this obscure little camp in Clemmons. Here, we spent the night, completed our written review, and spoke about our faith with our youth leaders. It went well, and I spent the majority of the night hanging out with these cool seventh grade girls in my class, Emma, Emily, and Anna.
I am super-excited, by the way, because we've started to read my favorite book of all time (let me say that again, of all time): To Kill a Mockingbird. I would give a review of it here and now, but I have the feeling that I've already done this at some point last year, and I wouldn't want to bore my avid readers with a repeated entry. I'll be content to say this: if I were thinking of being an English major, perhaps even on the college professor level, I would want to write my thesis paper on a comparison of this masterpiece with another like it of the Southern Gothic Literature genre: The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, another one which I can recall reviewing with much fervor at some point in the recent past. There are so many things that are similar which one could point out. Of course, there's the obvious inclusion of racial prejudice in isolated Southern towns in the Great Depression - which can be seen through the trial of Tom Robinson as well as in the character and motives of Doctor Copeland. In each book there are extremely autobiographical characters who exemplify the theme of maturity through their change in the novels (Scout and Mick) and whose maturity solidifies around their meditations upon the mysterious, yet arguably most crucial character to the plot (Arthur "Boo" Radley and John Singer). Each book even has a Calpurnia character who is discussed far more than the actual mother in relation to Scout and Mick. I could keep going, but I won't.
Now, a few days ago, I had some more interesting dreams; one thing that I neglected to mention in my last entry is that I've embarked on a mission - to dream lucidly, or in other words, to become conscious of the fact that I am dreaming while dreaming, but to remain asleep. The last part is key, and arguably the most difficult part of the whole process - this is coming from someone who has never accomplished lucid dreaming. But, in any case, the whole point of doing this is the fact that once you have reached the lucid state, you can apparently manipulate your dreams at will, which is pretty awesome. Just think of the possibilities for a moment: you could fly, you could become a cat, you could transform into Glenn Gould, you could bring Carson McCullers back from the dead, you could become the smartest, funniest, most attractive person (of your gender) alive and age twenty-five years and. . .just think of the possibilities. Haha, just kidding about the last part.
Anyways, two nights ago (I think), I had two interesting dreams, neither of which were pleasant. In the first one, I was going to an amusement park with my grandparents and mother. My father was to meet us at the amusement park once he got off of work. The only clear part that I can recall about this dream is traveling to this amusement park by car, my grandparents in the front seats and my mother beside me. The weather outside the window was drab, gray, and smoggy, with polluted-looking smoke draping everything in a melancholy dullness. My mother and my grandfather started to quarrel, and continued in this fashion until we stopped for gasoline at a lonely station by the highway. He stepped out, slamming the door, and grabbed the gas nozzle; my mother, infuriated, exited the car right after him and resumed her verbal attack. Through the cloudy window, I could see her ripe, pregnant stomach thrust forth vehemently as she violently gesticulated. My grandfather dropped the gasoline nozzle and turned to face her, shouting. Suddenly, one pushed the other, with a similar response from the pushed person - but before the argument could escalate to a full brawl, the dream changed. In this next segment of the dream, I was in a bookstore of all places, going through all the motions of some creepy cat-and-mouse type game with a person who was stalking me, whose name I will omit from the entry. I had been wandering around the bookstore when I suddenly heard this person's voice, seeming to come from very close to me - the voice beseeched me to try to locate the person speaking, and conveyed that I was being watched. I'm not sure why I didn't just leave the bookstore, considering that I had a feeling of general foreboding which indicated that I was in danger - yet, I pursued the voice as it continued to speak to me, all the way back to the far corner of the bookstore, where a small hallway curved into the wall behind the bookshelves along the side of the store. Beyond the curve of the hallway, nothing could be seen for the pitch-blackness within. The voice sounded in my ear again, instructing me to enter the hallway and walk just beyond the curve - I was getting ready to be a stupid person and actually do it when I thankfully woke up.