rejected body switch; pink adult diapers; little girls at the theater; gigantic domed building

Dream 1

I was probably getting my body switched with someone. I don't know where we were. I was looking up, as if I were almost lying on the ground, toward a woman or a person who had been body-switched into a female body.

The person was bald. Her eyes were rather blank. The underside of her head exposed muscles, like the skin was gone, or like the skin was fabric or material that had run out while the body was being made or reconstructed. But the muscles were flesh-colored, not red and bloody. I probably saw all of this through a tangle of close, black wired.

I was now walking around outside, probably in some big parking lot. It was a sunny day. It was probably morning. But the sunlight was golden, like in late afternoon. The asphalt was dark black, like new.

I was out ahead of some other people. I looked behind to them. Among them was a woman who looked like a cyborg -- probably with a human head but a robotic body. I knew that woman had had her body switched with mine. She'd wanted to be a man, and I'd wanted to be a woman. So we'd switched bodies. But I think her new body wasn't taking so well, and there was a bad feeling that she might die.

I turned my head and started walking forward. I had some misgivings about my new body, too. I had a weird feeling around my jawline, like my face was starting to get rejected, like the tissue was starting to die. I'd be left without a face.

Now I was noticing how difficult it was to walk. It was like the muscles or tendons all around my hips, on the front of my body, were extremely weak. It was like the muscles or tendons were made out of garbage bags. I was more and more exhausted with each step I took.

My body was probably all some kind of black metal, just like the body of the person in the distance behind me. We apparently had real, human bodies -- each other's old bodies, in fact. But the bodies were also these strange, robotic bodies.

I wondered whether my legs weren't being rejected. Were my leg tissues dying? If so, I imagined, my whole body would likely die. However, I also thought that maybe my body was just healing after the body switch. It might take time for my body to get back to normal. But I didn't really know.

I was worried. But I figured that, regardless of what the truth was, I might as well just go about my daily life as if my body weren't going to fail. After all, I didn't want it to fail. I was finally in a woman's body. I could finally live life the way I wanted to.

I got to some place, probably my office, which was a weird, thin structure, like the stairwell up to the bridge-like overpasses that take you from train platform to train platform in railway stations. The inside was very dark, like the walls were all black. The stairway was black. It was also probably made of some kind of marble or granite. A lot of people filed into the building, a stream of business people heading to and up the stairs.

By now, the people who had been walking behind me in the parking lot, who were now likely the scientists who had performed the body switch, were ahead of me, a few steps up the stairway. I knew I needed to follow them so they could monitor my progress.

But I walked only a couple steps up the stairway before I got extremely exhausted. It was so hard to walk with these legs! I didn't think my heart would be able to handle getting all the way up the steps. I really did think now that my body was doomed to fail.

I stood down at the foot of the steps again. There may have been so many business people heading up the steps that it was hard for me not to be carried by their momentum into walking up the steps. But I was trying to figure out what I should do. Should I stay down here and try to find medical help?

I decided to start walking up the steps again. I needed to stay with the scientists. And if I was going to die, I might as well just keep on going, anyway. But maybe my body was just getting back to normal. I decided that what I would do is take each step very easily and slowly, so that I wouldn't put too much strain on myself. I figured that if I couldn't even handle the strain of walking slowly up the steps, I would make a new plan.

Dream 2

I was probably in my house. It may have been a bright day, or it may have been night, and I had lights on in my house. I stood in front of a white wardrobe I have in my living room for linens and cleaning supplies.

I opened the door to the wardrobe. Apparently there were adult baby diapers inside. As soon as I saw them, I was wearing them. I was naked, except for a pink pair of adult baby diapers.

I looked at myself in a mirror that was probably fixed to the back wall of the wardrobe. I was surprised by how good I looked. My body was skinny and smoothly muscular. The adult baby diapers also made my hips look nice.

I swayed my hips back and forth in the mirror. I then turned away from the mirror, probably heading toward my bedroom. I felt so sexy, I thought I would play out some sort of fantasy in my head.

Dream 3

I was probably backstage at some play or musical performance. I had probably come to see the performance. Maybe some of my friends were in it. But I had somehow ended up backstage, like I'd needed to help with things. And now, getting all mixed up in the things happening here, I couldn't be sure whether I'd get out to my seat on time to see things, or whether I'd miss finding out that the performance had been totally canceled.

At some point there was a bald, kind of heavy, white man with thick-rimmed glasses who stood above the rest of the working crowd. He probably had a megaphone. He giving the workers direction. Things were really starting to move now. So I felt like maybe we'd wrap up with whatever we were doing and I could get out into the audience in time for the start of the show.

As the man spoke, the crowd of workers became something more like a big sea of tables with people, like at a big bar or a big awards ceremony. But it also felt like a huge cafeteria or beer garden, with long rows of tables. The light was yellow-grey-green, but very warm-feeling. Everybody seemed like they were in a good mood -- like they were all out drinking and having a good time. I figured that everybody was relaxed enough that there was no doubt I'd be on time to see the show.

I walked a bit farther. I may have heard some voices. I was basically by myself now. I saw, off to my left, a group of people at a microphone. They were all reading a script. It was like they were speaking for people who were out on stage. I realized that the show had already started. But I wasn't here to see the whole show. I was just here to see an act.

I knew now that I was pretty far backstage. I wanted to walk up as close to the stage as I could to see what act was on, to figure whether I'd have enough time to get seated for the act I'd come to see. The backstage area was enormous: a huge, white room, with occasional stage-like black wires and metal frames hanging down here and there. But overall it looked more like the interior of a gigantic Spanish mission than the backstage of a theater.

I probably felt a flash of stage lights, like I was almost to the stage. I may even have imagined myself for a brief instant as the beautiful, 1940s-style starlet up on stage.

I was now looking through some sort of railing, like heavy, classical stone railing. On the other side of the railing was something like a church. A lot of people were seated in pews. But the pews really looked like booth tables at a restaurant. There was a gigantic room filled with these booth tables.

All of these people were here for the show, which hadn't started yet, and which was to be either a church service with a sermon by a really powerful speaker or some kind of performance by a Christian performance group that would visit churches. Everybody seemed very friendly. But they were all very Christian. So I knew they wouldn't like me if they got to know my personal beliefs and inclinations.

I focused on one particular booth table. It was up in some section of tables that was elevated about four or five feet above where I was standing. It was actually like a lot or all of the table areas were elevated about the walkway areas.

The man at the table, the father (the mother was probably there, too), was tall, muscular, white, but tanned like he did a lot of outdoor activity. He wore a t-shirt, green khaki shorts, and a pink, weathered baseball cap. I knew that if he met me, he'd probably like me for a second or two then decide not to like me, maybe because of my olive skin, maybe because he could sense some kind of weirdness about my sexuality. So I tried to stay out of his field of attention altogether.

The man was calling for his daughter. I thought I'd try to help find the man's daughter, but without drawing attention to myself. I saw the man's daughter somewhere. She was a young girl, pretty and blonde. She may have been really girly, with hair in poofy ringlets and wearing an old, frilly kind of dress.

I found the little girl very attractive. So I wanted to talk to her. But I knew that if the father saw me talking to the girl he'd really be angry at me and probably find ways to make me feel bullied, by him or others, for the rest of the time that I was here. But I still wanted to help the daughter get to the father. So I knew I needed to somehow get the girl's attention, then draw her attention back to her father. The girl may also have seen me and wanted to talk to me. But she may have been too shy.

I might simply have given up on talking to and helping the little girl. I may just have seen that there was no way I could win.

The walkways now all ended in something like a close, dim elevator lobby. The lobby had dark, rich carpet and dark, polished stone walls. The elevator doors were made of polished gold or brass. There were shiny, black panels that would occasionally display messages in red, digital lettering. It was like this was a hotel. But it was also like it had a museum or something in it.

Some people, mostly mothers, sat on the floor, playing with their kids or talking as their kids played about. There was one young girl I was attracted to for some reason. She was tall, olive-skinned like me, kind of heavy, with straight black hair. She wore a purple t-shirt and black sweats. I felt like she was maybe twelve years old, though she may have been as tall as or taller than I.

I tried to avoid looking at the girl. I didn't want to creep her out, and I didn't want the mothers to know I was attracted to her. I headed straight toward the elevator.

The mothers were talking about what the kids liked to do while they were at this building. The mother said, "She" (meaning the girl in the purple shirt) "loves to go with her aunt and shuttle all the way up to the 72nd floor! They do that as many times a day as they can."

I got really dizzy. I hadn't known this building was at least 72 stories tall! I had thought it was just a theater building. I also knew I was heading up the elevator. But I didn't know where to. I was suddenly really hesitant about even getting onto the elevator. Would I have to go up to the 72nd floor? Or even higher?

I started to justify everything. Just because the building was at least 72 stories tall, that didn't mean the place I was going to had to be that high up. I obviously didn't need to worry about it. So I felt better.

But then I got worried again. I thought, If I'm in a building that's 72 stories tall, if it falls, it will definitely crush me and kill me!

I was really dizzy now. I didn't want to get onto the elevator at all. I sat down in front of the doors.

The mothers were still talking about the girl's trips to the 72nd floor. They said, "She loves to go up there because there's a toy store up there."

I thought, Wow! If there's a toy store on the 72nd floor, I might like to go up there!

I looked over to the girl now. She was laying on her back, with her knees up in the air. I could see her crotch. I was turned on. So I quickly looked away.

The daughter suddenly became interested in me. She started wriggling her way toward me, staying in a kind of seated position on the floor. The mothers could also see that I was attracted to the girl. I tried to look away from the girl, tying to keep my attraction to her inconspicuous. But since the girl was obviously coming over to me, I wasn't going to ignore her. I would talk with her or play with her. Whatever she wanted to do.

The girl was, in fact, talking to me, maybe even about the toy store. But even though she was talking, kind of innocently, as she got very close to me, she spread her legs entirely. She lifted up her crotch and pointed it straight at me. I was now really attracted to the girl.

This building was a hotel. I wanted to take the girl into the elevator and up to my room right away. But as I kept looking at the girl, with her legs spread and crotch lifted up at me, I thought I might like to just lay down on top of her right now. I may have tried to figure out if there was a way I could do that without making the mothers think I was attracted to the girl.

Dream 4

I was out walking along a large street. It was a residential street, but it felt really big, like some of the streets on the crest of steep hills in San Francisco. But I probably thought I was "home," i.e. in Denver. The sky was a deep, electric blue. The houses themselves, possibly all row houses or apartments, had beige walls. But the beige was also a deep tan color, like the sunlight was soaking deep into everything and turning it into a much deeper, more electric color.

I was walking in one direction (either east or west). I knew I was heading away from downtown, likely away from downtown Denver. But in the distance I saw an enormous building with a cupola, like the Capitol building.

I knew the building couldn't be the Capitol. I was heading in the opposite direction. But I couldn't figure out what other building it could be. I was a bit worried and confused at first. How could I be seeing something I was supposed to be headed away from? But my mind was a little more at ease when I told myself the building simply couldn't be the Capitol.

The building was off in the distance, behind blocks and blocks of row houses or apartment buildings. But it was gigantic enough, still, to loom over all of them. The building was made of stone, like massy, muted stone. But it was blue, not grey. That was very interesting to me. Also, the dome, instead of being gold, was some strange kind of iridescent purple. It was so strange. I really wanted to see it up close!

I may have started telling myself that that building was in a different town, maybe even Austin, Texas. I may have told myself that I was actually walking into another town.

Some kids may have crossed the enormous street. They were a big school group, probably of early elementary school kids. They may all or mostly have been Hispanic. I had continued walking forward, so by the time they and their teachers had crossed the big street, they were walking behind me.

As we approached another intersection, I heard the kids speaking, either in Spanish, Japanese, or both Spanish and Japanese. I may have responded to something they'd said in Japanese as I'd passed them as they were still crossing the big street. They may have been impressed that I'd understood them. So they started talking about me, only indirectly, kind of curious whether I could still understand them.

As we crossed the intersection (the road we crossed was small, like a neighborhood road, not like the huge road on our right), I thought I'd say something to the kids to prove I could speak Japanese. I searched my mind for something to say. It was hard to figure out the words.

Then I turned around as I approached the opposite curb. I continued walking, though backwards, so I could keep facing the kids. As I started speaking, I noticed that my mouth was full of food. This would make it hard for me to speak and hard for the kids to understand me.

I said, "Genki desu ka?" The kids may have acknowledged me a little.

As I turned around and started walking forward again, one of the kids said, in English, "That means, 'I am very well.'"

I was pretty sure that that wasn't what I had said. But at least I had somewhat proven to the kids that I could speak their language.

In the distance, and down a slope that we had now approached, I saw a big, obelisk-like monument. It was in a small patch of drying, dead lawn that was bordered by a heavy, grey, stone fence. I felt like the big monument might have something to do with the gigantic, purple-domed building in the distance. So I really, really wanted to see it. It would help me figure out where I really was.

Suddenly I was flying over the road and down toward the monument. Some of the kids remarked in English that I should keep on flying and get to the monument quicker because it was a really interesting spot.

I flew over the plot of land that the monument was in. An old woman was out walking two animals, possibly a dog and a sheep. I was trying to land. But it seemed like anyway I would land would basically lead to me landing on and killing the sheep.

There were some other people near the monument -- maybe residents and some tourists. At least one woman remarked on my difficult situation. She could tell that I didn't want to kill the sheep. Yet she could see that if I landed, I'd likely kill the sheep and make it look like I had meant to do so.

I floated up and over toward the monument. I was in some weird state right now -- not quite landing, but no longer really able to fly. But I also had a hard time directing my motion at all. I could tell there was some sort of plaque, either on the monument or on a staircase leading up to the monument. I was trying to get to the plaque so I could read it and figure out where I was.

I may eventually have bobbed and floated my way over to the plaque, wherever it was. But I was still so bad at guiding myself that I was just facing away from the plaque! I couldn't turn myself around so I could actually read it!

I may possibly at this point have been carried away, as if by a gust of wind, toward the gigantic, purple-domed building. I may have resigned myself to my condition by now. I figured I'd learn where I really was soon enough. I may still have thought I was in Austin. But I may also have thought I was in some Mexican or Latin American city.

At some point I may have seen the huge building again, as if I were floating in the sky above it, though it was still in the distance. But I may have seen above it an image of a gigantic puff of popcorn and a gigantic image of one of the Jeff Koons balloon animal sculptures.

the sixth child; adult baby and the fetish church

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

It was night. I was out in some place like an empty dirt lot, like a parking lot for a desert fairgrounds. But something about it also felt like it was indoors, like we were in a living room or a waiting room with a lot of couches.

I was with a group of kids. They may have been young children, or they may have been teenagers with the mentality of young children. We had all finished up with some kind of project. Now we were headed away.

But for some reason we all stopped. I felt like our having stopped would probably lead to some of the kids getting impatient. We'd all gotten through our task well. I, as the leader or organizer of this event, didn't want to have people get impatient and start having bad memories about our task. But I also felt like one of the kids might probably start feeling bad, thinking it had been his fault that we had stopped.

I turned around to find the boy I thought might feel bad. The light all around us was now dim green and blue, like dim lights, like fluorescent lights from over building doors, were shining from somewhere nearby.

The boy stood bathed in the light. He was doing some weird move with his face, where he was kind of juggling his eyeglasses on his face, kind of balancing them on his nose. I now understood that we'd all stopped because some of the other boys had noticed this boy doing this trick. The boys had wanted to point out, possibly to me, if not simply just to point out in general, that the boy had this talent.

But for some reason I felt bad about the boy performing like this. I felt like maybe the boy was performing only to make me less impatient, like I'd acted frustrated because we'd stopped and I personally had needed something to divert me from my frustration.

But now the other boys were showing their talents. All the boys' talents were similar to the first boy's talents. The boys were all juggling or swinging or swirling things about. One boy had some black glop he was juggling around on his face. Another boy had a thin, multicolored, neon string that he swung around.

One of the boys pointed out something like the fact that everybody has a talent, and that times like this, waiting times, when motion has stopped, are great times to practice talents. But something still made me feel like these talents were all being shown to me as a way of keeping me personally from getting impatient while our movement was stopped.

Now we were by a building, or at least by a tall, wide wall. Green fluorescent lamps hung from the wall. My brother-in-law sat with his back against the wall. My view of him was obstructed by some of the boys, who were running around, practicing their talents almost as if they were part of some dance or religious ceremony.

My brother-in-law was talking about his kids' homework. He then jokingly asked if I thought he should be extra diligent with making sure ----- got her homework done. I didn't quite catch what my brother-in-law said, and I only half-responded to it.

My brother-in-law saw that I didn't get his joke. He seemed a little ashamed that I hadn't gotten it. He might have thought I was angry with what he'd said, or he might have thought I hadn't cared enough to listen to what he'd said.

But now the spaced between us was clearing out. I could see my brother-in-law clearly. I thought he'd tell the joking comment again. But he didn't: he just explained who the subject of the joke was. The subject was a little girl, just a baby, and my sister's and brother-in-law's youngest child. My brother-in-law was, in fact, holding the little baby in a swaddling blanket in his arms.

I now saw the joke. The baby obviously didn't have any homework. My brother-in-law had just joked that, while he was being so diligent with all the other kids, he might go overboard and even make the little baby do homework as well.

But I was still a little confused. I didn't know where this little baby, which would have been my sister's and brother-in-law's sixth child, had come from. I definitely couldn't remember the baby girl's name.

Dream #2

I was in a car, going down the road at night. I may have been driving the car, but I may have been in the passenger's seat. I was riding along a rut in the right side of the road, constantly almost veering off the road and onto a shoulder of brown-red, desert soil.

I either knew about or was having a conversation (either in my head or with someone -- my mom? -- who sat in the driver's seat) about a church that accepted gay people. The church may actually have had the phrase "Gay Church" in its name.

I started thinking about this Gay Church. It occurred to me that the church wasn't just for gay people. It was a church, a Christian church, that actually celebrated all kinds of alternative sexualities. I had the feeling that it was actually a fetish church rather than a gay church.

I began visualizing the sanctuary of a church my family had attended when I was nine or ten years old. The sanctuary was huge. I visualized all kinds of people dressed up to represent their various fetishes. Some people were dressed normally. But other people were in things like full-body-and-head latex suits, and other people were on leashes.

I thought how it might be fun for me to go to church as an adult baby. I could dress up as a baby and wear a diaper. Maybe I could even be pushed into the church by my Mommy (whoever that would be...) and suck on a pacifier.

But I kind of got turned off by the idea. I wondered if I wouldn't just look stupid. Something about the clothes I visualized myself wearing looked girlish, but clunky, boyish, and cheap -- stupid and shameful. I didn't want to dress up as a baby if that was the best I could do!

I also worried about who would push me in. If a boy had to be my AB parent, I didn't want to do it.

I also worried about what other people would think of me. Even though the church accepted all kinds of fetish, maybe people just looked down on adult babies and thought they were gross. If so, I didn't want to go in and be seen that way by people.

But it now seemed to me that I didn't have much choice. I may have been getting driven to the church right now. I may also have been dressed up as a baby, ready to get pushed into the church of fetish. I may no longer have been driving the car. I may have been in a car seat, sucking on a pacifier, while my AB Mommy or Daddy was driving the car.

can't have babies; can't have relationship; can't wear diapers

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

A movie starring Will Ferrell. The basic idea was that Will Ferrell and his really beautiful wife kept having babies, and that it was now getting to the point where they couldn't afford to have any more. So the couple was trying to do things to make it so they could either stop having sex or stop having babies every time they had sex.

There was a kind of flashback montage that showed various times where the wife was in bed, waiting for Will Ferrell to get out of the bathroom. Each time Will Ferrell would come out of the bathroom doing something wacky or charming, and it was pretty obvious that Will Ferrell and his wife would then have sex and that the wife would get pregnant. I may have seen a lot of this montage from the wife's point of view.

But in the last little scene of the montage, when Will Ferrell came out of the bathroom acting all wacky and charming, the wife said, "Okay, let's get out of bed. Let's go into the living room and paint portraits of each other."

Will Ferrell repeated, "Paint portraits of each other," very seriously and quickly, like a chastised child. He understood that the wife was doing this to get the couple's minds off of sex. But it was pretty obvious that the couple would get aroused by each other again while they were painting each other and that they would have sex and get pregnant again.

Dream #2

There were either three or four people in a loft-like space, sitting on a couple of couches. A more mature man and woman sat on one couch. A younger man, and possibly a younger woman, sat on the other couch. All three or four of the people were colleagues working for the same company.

The older man told the younger man (and woman?) that the older man and woman knew about the romantic relationship between the younger man and woman. The older man said that the younger couple had to stop seeing each other, that relationships at work were not accepted or considered professional.

The younger man didn't really have any intention of breaking off his relationship with the younger woman. He told the older man, "Yeah, we'll go ahead and stop seeing each other. But I know of an older man and woman within the company who are doing the same thing as we are."

The older man understood that this meant him and the older woman. The were, in fact, having a relationship. So if the younger man and woman were supposed to get in trouble for their relationship, then the older man and woman should get in trouble for their relationship, too.

The older man, knowing that he was caught, but still not wanting to admit it, gave the older woman a strange sign to indicate that they should stop harassing the younger couple about their relationship for the time being. The man hunched over, almost down to his knees, then lifted his left hand behind his back and bent his index finger up and down in a "come here" gesture. While the man did this, an image of a transparent newspaper -- like a newspaper made out of a sheet of glass -- rose up behind him. Behind the image of the newspaper, a man could be seen walking around.

Dream #3

I was in a department store. I had walked away from the men's clothing section. But there were some shirts I  had been interested in. So I went back. But as I returned to the section, a big, black man was kneeling down in front of a wall-rack of shirts, completely blocking the aisle between the wall-rack and a standalone rack, the only aisle of entrance into the clothing section.

I asked the man to excuse me, but I couldn't control my motions very well, so I kept walking, bumping into the man a little bit. As I bumped into the man, I apologized and patted him on the arm and back. The man wore a pale blue polo shirt of soft thread in a roughly woven pattern. I liked the shirt a lot. I may have thought at that point that I was attracted to the man, or that I was giving him a false indication that I was attracted to him. I got embarrassed and tried to avoid any more interaction with the man.

But while I was looking at shirts (shirts that were way too huge for me) a couple of racks over from the man, the man turned to me and asked for my help. He was trying to get a shirt just like the shirt worn by some basketball player. But he couldn't remember the name of the basketball player. All he could remember about the player was that he was, even by basketball standards, huge, and that he probably played for the L.A. Lakers.

I tried to figure who that person could be. I had a deck of basketball cards in the left pocket of my jeans. So I pulled them out. I shuffled through the cards. There was one really huge player, with a huge, 1970s-style afro. But he played for a team called the Golden State Suns.

I found a couple of cards with basketball players from the L.A. Lakers. I pointed them out to the man. The first guy was not, I knew, the guy the man was referring to. But he was 6'9", which seemed to me to be pretty huge, as if this player would be one of the biggest people in the NBA. The second guy may actually have been the one the man had been looking for. In fact, I was pretty sure he was, and I was excited to have found him. But he was only 6'8" tall, a whole inch shorter than the first guy. It didn't make sense to me.

Suddenly, where the wall rack had been, there was a front yard for a suburban house. The yard was elevated, so that "ground level" for the yard started at about my shoulder. The yard was bounded by a chain-link fence.

A little chihuahua ran up to the fence and began barking furiously. It scared me and annoyed me a whole lot. There may have been another chihuahua in the yard that was less active than the first chihuahua. Even that chihuahua may have been annoyed by the first chihuahua. Something about the first chihuahua's face really disgusted me, like the nose and a patch of flesh around the nose was mottled or swollen or slimy.

I tried to ignore the chihuahua and continue helping the man. I managed to do so, even over the dog's barking. But then the dog started acting annoying in a different way. It was jealous of the attention I was giving the man. So now it acted all sad and whiny. It was poking its muzzle as far through the fence as it could, hoping that I would pet it or hold out my hand so it could lick my hand. But I was afraid that if I got close to the dog at all, it would bite me.

The whole area had now widened out into an outdoor space something like a rooftop on a big building. There were a couple of tiers on the rooftop. The tiers kind of served as bench-like ledges or stage-like platforms.

I sat at the edge of one of these tiers. I was talking with a young woman, maybe in her mid-twenties. The young woman was practicing to become a psychiatrist. But she may also have been involved in theater in some way. She was thin and pretty, with short, brown-blonde hair.

The woman reminded me of my having spoken with her before in some kind of therapy session and telling her that I had a fetish where I liked to wear Pampers Baby Dry diapers. I vaguely remembered the session -- as if it had been part of a dream I'd had but forgotten. The woman told me she had spoken with some of the more senior psychiatrists, and that they all agreed that my wearing baby diapers was something that should be considered illicit or unacceptable. She told me I should stop doing it altogether.

I told the woman I had no intention of stopping wearing diapers, and that there was nothing illegal or illicit about it. I was afraid that the woman could find some way of hurting me, getting me in trouble for my fetish. But I wasn't going to stop just because I was afraid. I could tell the woman was angry and disgusted with me. I looked off to my left. There was a group of men and women playing some kind of silly game. I thought it might be fun to join them.

***

UPDATE: Added illustration to dream #3, September 28, 2012, 7:25 AM, Mountain Standard Time.

someone likes diapers too

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I stood before something like a giant cruise ship. The ship appeared to be a dark pink color. I must have been planning to get on the ship.

I couldn't see any other people. But someone around me, probably a woman, told me that someone else, probably a man, also liked wearing diapers. The woman said that this person had always seemed to dislike me and to be too preoccupied with me in a negative way whenever I was around. The woman said, it was really that the man was excited that I liked diapers, too, but that the man was too afraid to share his liking for diapers with anybody else.

I probably asked the woman to tell me who the man was. But the woman told me no, that that would break her faith with the man. But I may have felt like the woman and I may have had some conversation at some point in time that was allowing me to piece together who the man was.

daycare diaper potty

Good morning, everybody.


Dream #1


I was in some place like a school or daycare for young children. I'm pretty sure I was an adult assigned to supervising the children.


We all stood out in some kind of concrete yard. The yard was huge, like a few basketball courts all put together. On one side of the concrete yard was a huge, brick or concrete building, which was the school or day care building. On the other side of the yard was a huge fence.


I may actually have come through this fence, entering the yard, as I spoke with a woman who was already inside with the children. The woman was taller than me and she seemed mature more mature, although not much older than I am IWL. She probably had tan skin and short, black hair. She probably wore a jacket-like, red blouse and a red skirt that went down to just below her knees.


I seemed to have to wind my way through a few layers of fence before I actually got inside. Once inside I stood near a dense cluster of kids who stood at tables, possibly even foosball tables. I also saw into a room in the day care building. There were a few rooms in a row with their doors open. But I think I only looked into one of the rooms.


All this time, I had been asking the woman something. It was part of a favor for my friend, who was another woman. At first I think my "asking" was more like thinking in my head. But then I could really hear my voice clearly as I asked the question.


I said, "A friend of mine is going to be in this part of town. She's going to be bringing a girl with her. The girl is just a kid. My friend is the girl's mentor. But they're looking for something to do. I was wondering if... I know we're not supposed to allow any other adults into this center... But I was wondering if my friend could bring the girl in here, and they could play on our raquetball courts for a little while."


The woman and I were walking out onto a wide, open area in the concrete yard. The foosball players were behind us. I could imagine the raquetball courts just behind the area where the foosball players were playing. 


I knew that the rules didn't allow any adults to come into the daycare center. But I thought (and I may have said to the woman) that perhaps my friend and the girl she was helping could come in here when all the kids were in class. This didn't seem quite plausible to me. I thought that there were always at least a few kids out here all the time, since the timing of different classes were staggered. But I thought that maybe my friend could come here when the fewest children were here, and so do the least damage.


Up at the end of the concrete yard was something like a covered walkway, a tunnel-like hallway through the day care building. I saw my old friend Y coming up through the walkway, out onto the concrete yard. She was stumbling and holding onto the right (my right) wall, as if she were drunk. Her shirt was hanging off, exposing a blue, satiny bra with lace trim. She had long, long hair. Mascara smears trailed down from her eyes.


The daycare teacher, walking at my right side, spoke to me. (She now seemed a lot taller than I.) She told me I couldn't bring my friend into the daycare because there were no adults allowed. I already felt ashamed for even having asked. But the daycare teacher told me that, instead of worrying about my friend, maybe I could occupy myself by taking care of one of my other friends. 


Just like I may have been a child supervisor, this other friend of mine may also have been a child supervisor. But she was in a wheelchair and she needed a lot of assistance in taking care of herself.


My wheelchair friend was suddenly before my teacher and I. My wheelchair friend was blonde, maybe about my age or a little older, though her face may have been a little round and chubby, like a baby's. 


The daycare teacher had kept walking forward, possibly saying that she had to go take care of some other kids. I took hold of my friend's wheelchair and turned it in a beeline, heading back toward some place, possibly toward some room where I could take care of my friend.


I was now in some big room. It was like a library in a mansion, with heavy, dark wood walls. But it seemed to be almost completely empty of furniture. 


Some time had probably passed. I was laying on the top bunk of some extremely tall bunk bed. I knew my wheelchair friend was somewhere down below me, maybe sleeping on the bottom bunk. We had both either slept or had gotten ready to go to sleep for the night. But now I felt the need to make sure that something was okay for my friend.


So I (flew? floated?) down to the floor of this enormous, heavy-wood-walled room. I landed on some gigantic Persian rug. I could tell that my friend had left the room. The door to the room was probably cracked open. 


I knew my friend would come back. She'd just had to take care of something for herself. But I was a little disappointed to know that she had gone off to take care of something for herself, when I was supposed to be the one caring for her.


I looked down at myself to see that I was wearing nothing but a huge diaper. I was surprised to be wearing a diaper, even though I think I liked it. I think I was excited to show my friend that I was wearing a diaper. I think my friend was also wearing a diaper. I felt like both of us wearing diapers would make us both adult babies. So we'd have something in common!


I started to pee in my diaper. I kept peeing and peeing. I didn't know whether this diaper would hold as much pee as I seemed to be giving out. But I just kept going and going, hoping I could stop myself if I started to leak.


But I finally stopped peeing. My diaper hadn't leaked, though it was really, really full. I couldn't see my diaper, for some reason. But I knew it was probably huge and soggy. I could feel it really huge between my legs as I waddle-walked around in it.


I couldn't wait to show my friend how much I'd pottied in my diaper! I thought she'd be really turned on, or at least impressed, by how full my diaper was.


But then I suddenly wondered: did I mess something up? Did I somehow turn the tables around through some incompetence of mine? It seemed like I was now thinking of my friend as my caretaker, instead of as myself as my friend's caretaker. I was definitely looking forward to my friend changing my diaper, for instance. But I was also disappointed in myself for making myself so I was the one in need of care. I hoped my friend wouldn't also be disappointed in me.


I imagined my friend coming back into the room as a tall, blonde, beautiful business woman in her early to mid forties. I imagined her wearing a cream-colored, button-up blouse and a long, thick-fabric, brown skirt.

diapered and pole walking; looking for quarters

Good morning, everybody

Dream #1

I was out in some area, maybe something like a parking lot or some kind of vacant lot with a really big ditch in it -- but I'm not sure. I think I felt like it was some kind of common social area, maybe even some place like a shopping plaza.

I was now turning back from this place, heading across the street to my apartment, which was in a tall complext of red brick buildings. It was dim, like it was late afternoon, and the air was damp and quiet.

A group of young people were heading in toward the ditch area as I was heading out of it. I may suddenly have noticed something really embarrassing about myself, like I was naked, or I was only wearing a diaper.

I felt like the young people, who all had a scrawny, kind of hungry look, were looking directly at me for one moment. I worried that they would get angry at me for wearing a diaper. In fact, they turned around and followed me back to the apartments. I knew they lived there, too.

Just past the first building in the complex was a big courtyard, surrounded by all the buildings. The courtyard was mostly made of concrete. It had multiple levels, all joined by wide, shallow staircases. There may have been picnic tables and barbequeque pits in places. The whole area, as well as the stairwells and balconies of the buildings, looked pretty run down. There were a lot of young people hanging around.

The young people behind me now passed me up. I had been a little worried that they'd been following me, stalking me so they could hurt me once they'd seen I'd been wearing a diaper. Even after they passed me, I was afraid of them. I thought they were just acting like they'd stopped stalking me, but that they would keep an eye on me, for the perfect time to hurt me.

They all walked so fast. I was afraid that they were far more physically fit than I was. One of the boys, a kind of scraggly-curly haired blonde boy wearing blue jeans and a Superman t-shirt, even jumped up from the concrete of the courtyard up to a second story balcony. I couldn't quite believe it. I had looked away. But when I looked again, he was still up there.

I was afraid and jealous. I tried to convince myself that I had that level of physical strength.

I walked past the courtyard. I was now in some back area, just past the back apartment buildings. I may have been heading to my apartment. The back area was very shaded, as if some highway overpass ran right next to the apartments and blocked the sky's light.

A black boy in his mid to late teens, very skinny, wearing a baggy, white shirt and baggy, tan pants, walked up to me. He was talking to me about one thing. But I knew he was just prepping me to talk about getting me involved in something else, something that could get me in trouble, like drugs.

We walked up some concrete, steel-railed staircase off to my left. I let the boy know, in the least offensive way possible, that I wasn't really looking to get involved in anything with anybody at the moment. I was afraid that the boy would want to hurt me from now on.

I suddenly jumped high up, onto some big, metal railing, like the railing that serves as barrier poles for highway edges. There seemed to be one road to my left, a ways below me, and then either one or two roads up above me. But I was in the open light, the light of grey midday, I think. I was balancing on the pole, walking along. I was surprised that I could jump like that. And I was surprised I could balance.

Dream #2

I was in my bedroom in my apartment. I was thinking I should do laundry, even though it was a weekday, and I usually did laundry on the weekends. But I thought I didn't have any quarters for the laundry machines. I didn't want to go out just to grab change. I hoped I could just find some change in my apartment.

I knelt down in my closet and saw that on the floor, right where the back wall met the floor. I had a stack of three or four quarters. I was really happy. This, added to the quarters I already knew I had, was almost enough for the laundry. But either it still wasn't quite enough, or else I felt like I should have more quarters, just to be on the safe side.

When I looked a bit farther to my left, about 20cm from the stack of quarters, I saw one or two stray quarters. I thought this might be enough for me to do my laundry with. I went to grab the quarters, when suddenly I heard a tapping on my ceiling.

dace joke; humped by zappa lookalike

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a big bedroom with one or two women. Both the women were very beautiful and very made up, almost like 1940s actresses -- or fetish models! They were actually college girls. They either had just graduated or were just about to graduate. There was some issue with one of the girls being just about to meet some other girl, possibly so they could engage in some creative endeavor together.

I turned around and walked toward the door. It now seemed like it was exactly one year later than the time it had been before I'd turned around. There was another woman sitting near some small dresser with a lamp. The woman seemed somehow to be using the dresser as a desk.

There was some discussion about how the first woman and the woman that she had been going to meet were now good friends. The seated woman told me this as if to say "didn't you know this already?" as if I'd asked some question about it.

I walked out into the living room, which was also really large. The room was really messy. It was like there had been some kind of party earlier on -- it was still dark outside -- and nothing had gotten picked up yet.

I was about to walk through the living room and into another room. This whole time I'd been talking with some young woman somewhere about her college graduation, which was just about to take place.

I stopped on the threshold between the living room and some dark room. I stood halfway in both rooms. I could see the woman I'd been talking to in the dark room, standing before a dresser and pulling on some clothes.

In the living room, one of my old friends, M, began making some kind of joke about the graduation party the girl was going to throw. Apparently she was going to throw the party here. Some amount of thought had gone into decorating the place for the party. But M was downplaying all the effort.

The main thing M was doing was playing out the scenario of some dopey, scratchy-voiced, bum-like guy saying all the things you'd need to make a party really classy. M, as the character, would list off one or two normal pieces of furniture, like a coffee table or a dresser. But then he'd veer off and start mentioning all kinds of weird, sometimes trashy, sometimes drug-related, items. One of these things was something called a "dace."

I was really amused by M's antics, even though I felt a little bad, thinking that the girl was probably a little annoyed and insulted by M downplaying her efforts to put together a nice party.

I joined in with M in the antics. The weird exchange M and I had -- both of us acting as the bum-like guy -- was so vivid that I could hear it. But I can't remember anything I said now.

Dream #2

I was in a mall with some guy. I was supposed to keep the guy with me: either making sure I followed him closely or making sure he followed me closely.

The guy was probably in his early forties. He was maybe 190cm or 195cm tall, a little heavy. He had worn out skin and a kind of baggy face. His hair was short, slightly feathery, and blonde, but going grey quickly. The guy wore a blue shirt with a mild, business-casual plaid-like crisscrossing of darker blue lines and a pair of khaki slacks.

The mall was somewhat busy. We had walked out of one store and were now walking to a point where two wide corridors joined into a staircase which led up to one wide corridor.

It had been difficult to keep track of the guy in the corridors, though I'd managed to do it. He'd be up in front of me, then back behind me, then up in front of me all over again. But I think we'd been talking with each other, which had helped me keep some orientation regarding the man.

But the stairwell leading up to the next corridor was extremely busy, if only for a moment. It was like a huge rush of people were all coming down the stairs while I was trying to go up the stairs. I had been having troubles, I think, keeping my own orientation, not to mention keeping track of the man. But now my own orientation was completely obliterated.

I got control of myself. I was only three steps up the staircase. I looked down to the foot of the staircase. I assumed that was the last place I'd seen the man. But the man wasn't there.

The staircase was relatively empty now. I looked past the bottom of the staircase, down the corridor adjacent to the corridor the man and I had come from. I didn't see him among any of the people in the corridor. But I thought he might have gone into one of the shops in the corridor. I thought I should probably walk past all the shops, looking in to see if I could find the man.

But something, either my own thoughts or the voice of some person a couple steps up from and behind me, who seemed to have seen the man, told me that I should actually go up the steps to look for the man.

That made sense. The man, if separated from me, would, I assumed, have kept going in the direction we'd been going in together before we'd gotten separated. After all, our common goal, it seemed to me, was more his goal than mine, even though I'd had to be the one to stick with him to make certain we got to the goal. I could even imagine the man standing on the left side of the corridor, near a shop one or two shops away from the top of the staircase.

I went up the staircase. Time became a little bit jumbled.

For a little while I was in some store like a department store or a drug store, near the makeup sectiong. I may have been talking to a woman behind the counter, standing on a high up platform. I may have been ashamed while I was talking to the woman, like I'd really wanted to wear the makeup she sold, but like I really didn't want her to know that and think I wasn't a boy she could be sexually interested in.

I was then in some big room -- not like a bedroom, but some brick walled room that felt like some kind of art studio, or even an old record store that had been hollowed out. But something about it still felt like a bedroom.

I was in the room with some guy. There may have been another person, possibly also a man, in the room. But he seemed only to be observing, not acting in any way. And he may have disappeared at some point.

The first guy and I went through some scenario together. It was like the guy was trying to figure out something about a girl: maybe why his girlfriend had left him or why he wasn't able to get a specific girl to like him or how to tell a specific girl he liked her. But I had something to do with the woman. It was like I was at fault for the woman not being in love with the man. I didn't know if the man knew this. I suspected he did. But I wasn't going to mention it unless he did.

Now the scenario changed a little bit. So did the guy. The guy had at first been kind of sloppy, wearing a white t-shirt with some black-printed rock band art on it and some kind of khaki jacket. Both the shirt and jacket were in terrible disarray. The guy had been a little round-bellied and round faced, with pretty short hair done in a tightish, square style.

Now the guy was wearing basically the same clothes. But he was really tall and really skinny. He had long, frizzy, black hair, a linty-looking mustache and goatee, and lots of stubble. He had dark, deep-set eyes and bushy eyebrows. He kind of looked like Frank Zappa, with a little bit of Joey Ramone's look, too.

The two of us were still going through some scenario related to the girl who was the guy's love interest. But now there was also some Smashing Pumpkins song playing in the background. Somehow the scenario got mixed up with a discussion about the song -- as if we were actually writing this song together as we heard it, or as if we were trying to figure out how to write a song like this together.

I'm not sure how, but the scenario had worked its way to where the guy had me on the ground, on my back. He was beginning to hump me. He may even have unzipped my pants to reveal that instead of underwear I was wearing a baby's diaper.

I wasn't attracted to the guy. He was pretty dirty looking. But it felt good when he humped me, especially when I could feel the diaper I was wearing pressing against me. I was worried that enjoying this stiuation probably made me gay. But I somehow got myself to believe that even though I was enjoying this guy dry humping me right now, I wouldn't normally enjoy having sex with guys.

I was probably about to climax. I could feel my erection pushing against my diaper. The Smashing Pumpkins song got louder and louder. The man and I may have been singing the song together. I may still have been trying to figure out if we were making this song or only listening to it.

baby clothes and video games; one house to another

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in the basement of a Toys R Us. The place was full of baby supplies. The basement was huge, like a floor of a department store in a mall.

I had been all alone at first, like I had actually gotten here before the store had actually opened. But now there were more and more people filtering in. I was getting nervous. I decided to leave.

I was heading toward an escalator. But off to my right I saw a huge area, sectioned off from the rest of the basement by a waist-high barrier (like the barrier around a skating rink), that was full of baby clothes.

I seemed to remember now that I had come down into the basement in the first place to look for diapers that I could wear. I thought that maybe the baby clothes section would also have diapers. I thought that there might even be some baby clothes that I could wear.

But the baby clothes area already had a good amount of people in it: good-looking, well-off-looking moms and dads shopping for clothes for their little babies. They'd obviously think I was a pervert if they saw me looking for diapers in the baby section. So I just got on the escalator and went upstairs.

I was now on a first floor of a Toys R Us. But it seemed like a different time altogether. Again, it seemed like the store was closed. The place felt completely dead and empty. I felt all alone.

I was in the video game section. I was looking at boxes for portable game systems. I had picked up one of these systems. I may even have started playing it somehow, as if the box had some kind of demo capability on it.

But now I noticed that a whole bunch of the boxes could also act as security cameras. A lot of the boxes were trained on me, watching me. They also had video screens showing what imagery they were capturing of me.

One of the boxes in particular was kind of strange. It was clear and empty. Its sides were like iridescent cellophane. Its edges were some kind of flimsy, yellow plastic. But somehow I could see that even this object was capturing and projecting video of me.

I felt like there was a small group of people behind all this -- not like security guards, but more like average people who just followed me around because they thought I was some kind of crook.

So I tried to do my best to show that all I had been interested in in the first place was playing the video games. I played the video game demo on the box I was holding, trying to make it clear by my actions that I had no intention of stealing or wrecking anything.

Dream #2

I woke up in a huge apartment. My eyes were really groggy. It was hard to get them open. I had apparently been sleeping on the bench seats of some kind of breakfast table or dining table.

I sat up and looked over the back of the bench seats. It was like I was on a balcony. I looked down to something like a living room. It was pretty far down, but the ceiling was still pretty high up from where I sat.

I knew that I was leaving this apartment for good today. Knowing that I was leaving, I suddenly realized that this huge apartment had been mine. It was so big and so nice. I kind of remembered complaining about it. But I couldn't remember ever having appreciated its size or niceness.

I told myself that I'd have to store up all the memories of how nice this place was before I left. I also probably told myself that if I'd had a place like this before, I could have it again. I knew I was moving to a much smaller place now. But I knew I could get back into a big, nice place like this.

The fuzzy image of a kind of cheap-looking couch came into my mind. The image eventually clarified a little. The couch was brown, fake leather. But the legs and arms were made of some kind of cheap, tubular chrome. I knew this would be the one thing I could take with me into my new place. This was a relief: I knew I didn't have a couch in my present place.

I was now outside, on some big vehicle, possibly a bus. I was trying to catch up to a car that my mother and sister were in. I was really trying to catch up with my sister. It was like I was in love with her, but I had made some kind of mistake, so that now she was running away from me.

I had caught up to the car once. But I had made some mistake. After my mistake, I was somehow slowed down so that my sister could get away from me by speeding away.

I was now coming after my sister again. I was still on the bus. I was halfway hanging out of the bus. When the bus caught up to my sister, I hung even further out of the bus.

My sister was on the passenger side of the car. I yelled over to her. She spoke to me, but she was acting like she didn't know me. Her purpose was to ignore me and keep me out of her life. I may have been planning to live in her house. But she didn't want that either.

But I was determined to get back into her life. So I jumped off of the bus and onto my sister's car. My sister's window was only partly open. But I somehow managed to climb in through the window. I told my sister something like, "See? This is how serious I am about wanting to be back with you."

We rode along. It was now night. My mom drove, and my sister sat in the passenger seat. I sat in the backseat. Things seemed to be a lot calmer. But we were actually heading to some apartment complex. It was where my sister had been living.

We stopped in the parking lot. Apparently we'd come here so that my sister could break up with the man she'd been living with. But now that I was here, and I was planning on being something like my sister's boyfriend, it was up to me to confront this guy.

My sister said something to me like, "So you really think you can handle committing to me? Let's see. You'll have to face guys like this one. And he's tough. Let's see if you can do it."

But I didn't think the guy was so tough. I knew he was rich. We were parked in the lot of some really nice apartment. The building looked modern, almost like a beautiful, new art museum building. There were blue lights shining against the building. And all around the parking lot was a calm forest.

The guy was some kind of business man. But he'd probably just made a lot of his wealth by cheating people. He was an Asian man with hair down to just above his shoulders. He wore dark glasses and a white suit. He looked kind of like a criminal version of the physicist Michio Kaku. But something about him also looked old and faded, and also a bit feminine.

I was nervous about, but not afraid of, meeting the man. But I was going to go in and confront him. But before I could go in, he came out, with three or four tough guys like bodyguards around him.

The men all got into one car near our car. I could see the man's head as he sat in the car. I figured I'd go talk to him right now, just to take care of things. But now I actually was pretty afraid.

great grandmother suggests college

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a bedroom on an upper floor of some small building, either a big house or a small apartment building. The room I was in was a rented room or a furnished apartment. Most of my view was taken up by my bed. All the bed had on it was a lot of white sheets. The rest of the room had a lot of white in it as well. But the room was kind of dim, as if only one light were on, somewhere behind me.

I got the feeling that my landlady (possibly an old landlady from my waking life) was coming for me. Possibly I hadn't paid the rent, or possibly I had done something bad in the room that my landlady needed to speak to me about. But I really didn't want to have to face my landlady. So I left as quick as I could, to avoid her.

Now, having walked away from the room, I was out on my great grandmother's lawn. The light was like late afternoon: a kind of cool blue-grey. I was trying to get away from the building (which wasn't there anymore) as quickly as I could. But my great grandma opened the front door of her house and called for me.

I turned around, still thinking that the person I was hearing was my landlady. I looked in through the shade of the doorway and saw my great grandma. She looked younger and healthier than she had been when she died -- maybe like she was in her early seventies, rather than in her late nineties. She was wearing a small, white sweatshirt.

Finally I realized where I was and who I was talking to. I turned (reluctantly?) and walked back toward my great grandma's house. My great grandma had me come inside. She sat me down in the living room. I sat in the chair she usually sat in while she was alive, and she sat in the chair to the right of that chair.

My great grandma asked me how I was, and then started talking to me about my life. She seemed to be suggesting to me that I go back to college. She asked me something like, "Have you ever considered Pace?"

The only Pace I knew of was Pace University in New York City. I hadn't actually considered that school. I didn't think I would ever consider the school, but I didn't want to tell my great grandma that, and seem to be contradicting her. My great grandma may already have seemed a little frustrated with me somehow, possibly because I was definitely being wishy-washy about going back to school.

I now noticed that my bookbag was sitting on the footstool in front of the chair. It had popped wide open. A new package of baby's diapers sat positioned about halfway out of the bag. I knew the diapers were mine -- like I had bought them for myself to wear.

I didn't want my great grandma to see the diapers and know they were for me. I tried to hide them. But now there was another new package of diapers, in a kind of thin, plastic shopping bag, right next to my bag. There were two big, new packages of diapers right in front of me! The package coming from my bookbag was colored red. The one in the shopping bag was green.

I wanted to put the diapers on right now. But I didn't want my great grandma to see me doing so. I was seriously thinking of doing something like hiding behind a chair so that I could change into a diaper without leaving the living room. But I didn't think that would work. I was half-lazily (like in a reverie) and half-frantically trying to figure a way to put a diaper on.

But suddenly I was in my great grandma's bathroom. I figured I must have gotten there by making some excuse to my great grandma about how I needed to go to the bathroom. I had all the bags with me, and I was putting on a diaper.

I looked at my diapered bottom in some (???) mirror. I noticed that the diaper-bottom was torn. It was like the leggings of the diaper were like the stitching around the leggings of panties, and that all the padding of the diaper had pulled away from the legging. Parts of the backing may have been shredding a bit as well, creating a striped or netted look.

I was now in another place. I may have just been with a group of friends, taking care of some task. We were now coming back home, as if we all lived in the same dorm-like apartment. I was rushing down to my room in the basement with a feeling of happiness, the brisk excitement of having been out with friends.

The basement felt full of activity, like there were a number of people who lived down there, and like they all shared some kind of common space like a living room, along one wall of which were the doors to the individual bedrooms. I ran into my room, but I left the door half-open.

I looked at myself in a full-length, kind of narrow mirror on the wall. I realized I needed to change my clothes quick! I couldn't quite believe it, but I was dressed like a girl! I wore a tiny, lavender-colored skirt, a baby blue shirt, and something like white nylons or fishnet stockings. I was also wearing a diaper, which I may have peed in. The diaper was visible from under the skirt. My body may also have been the body of a skinny, teenage girl, even though I was still myself, and a guy.

I knew I needed to change before anybody saw me. (It didn't occur to me that, if I looked like this coming into my room, everybody I was out with must have seen me already.) But as I was changing, my brother may have come into the room. His only reaction to me may have been that I needed to stop screwing around. He was impatient for us to get somewhere. And my slowness was really making him disappointed in me.