lesbian cheerleader office

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a big den or living room area with a group of co-workers. There were a lot of people in the room other than the people in my group. There were a number of couches in the room. I sat at one of four couches that were near the center of the room.

Eventually, the other people in my group began mingling with the other people in the room. One of the women, who stood with a small group of people off behind me and to my right, was talking about something like the pressures of work or school. One of the men, who sat with one or two people on a couch at the other end of the room, was talking about his personal working process and why he thought it was good.

Now a few of us stood up to head somewhere else. I'm not sure why I stood up and went. But when I met with a couple of the other people standing up to leave, they asked me, "Oh, is it time for all of us to leave already?" as if I were their leader. Now everybody in my whole group of co-workers stood up to leave.

We headed toward a stairway that went down into a basement. I felt like we were here for some kind of class. The class was probably down in the basement. We had taken a break in this upstairs room. Now we were headed back to class.

We passed a group of young, cute girls who all stood in a line performing cheerleader routines. The girls were all wearing white terry cloth hoodies and micro skirts with fluttery pleats. They may have been wearing baby blue panties, the bottoms of which may have been visible when the girls did certain moves.

Just as most of us had started walking down the stairs, one of my female co-workers ran back up the stairs. She patted one of the cheerleader girls -- a really cute one with cinnamon skin and silky, black hair -- on either the back or the bottom. My co-worker then headed down the stairs and jumped back in line with my group.

I somehow knew that my co-worker had learned that the cheerleader liked her. My co-worker wanted to let the cheerleader know as soon as possible that she liked her back. So she patted the girl's back or bottom. I thought this was pretty bold. I wished I had the boldness to do something like that.

the exploding wall

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

It was night. My viewpoint was from out on a street, looking up toward the third or fourth floor of a concrete building. The wall had blown out in a small section of the building, revealing a room that looked like a private bath or sauna. The rest of the outside of the building was bathed in an amber glow, like a fire was burning somewhere across the street.

The view now drifted upward, so I could see a few people standing in the hole gaping in the wall. The light was out in the room, so that everything was illuminated only by the amber glow. A couple of the people standing near the hole were stereotypical detectives in khaki trench coats and fedoras. In the center of the detectives stood a sexy, but kind of old, woman with platinum blonde hair, tan, but weathered, skin, and wearing a black mini-dress.

It was now understood that the woman worked for some kind of service that employed beautiful women. The manager of these women had been an aging, overweight, bald man. When the wall had exploded, the man had fallen to his death. He may have been wearing only a tank top and boxers at the time.

The detectives asked something like, had this ever happened before? The woman said that nothing like this had ever happened before. Apparently this place was something like a bath house or sauna house, with room after room of private baths and saunas. The woman said that bad or weird things had happened in the rooms. For instance, people had been found sick and dead in the rooms.

Also, the woman said, people had been discovered having "weird sex" in the rooms. This conjured up an image in my mind of two women having sex by scissoring in a kind of sitting position, with each woman having one of her legs in a regular downward position, with her feet on the floor, and the other leg high up in the air.

The woman and the detectives were now walking back down through the hallway between the rooms. The light in the hallway was dim and amber as well, like it also was lit only by whatever light was burning out on the street.

depression elevator; "child" applebee's; nuclear theater; spinach jar; child in bedroom

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I was in a hotel elevator. The elevator may have been going directly upward at first. But then it shifted its direction, going upward and forward at the same time, like an escalator. Eventually the elevator had a completely open front. I could see that the elevator box was traveling along a track very much like the track of an escalator.

The elevator dropped me off at the twenty-ninth floor. As I was easing my way up to the floor, a computer voice from somewhere began to tell me that, because of the fees I'd paid to stay at the hotel, I was only granted a limited amount of access to the hotel. My room was on the twenty-ninth floor, and I was not allowed to travel to certain other floors without permission.

I knew this had something to do with the Great Depression. It was like I was in the year 1929 in America, and that the Great Depression had begun. Hotels were giving people like me special discounts, so they could still patronize the hotels. But the discounts included restricted access to other parts of the building, like the restrictions I was receiving.

But one of my friends was actually staying on the fifteenth floor -- one of the restricted floors. I knew I'd have to ask my friend to give me permission to come down and visit him/her. I was walking around in the hotel hallway. But it was also like I was already talking with my friend on the phone.

I was now in a hotel room, with either a young man, maybe my brother, or an attractive, young, Asian woman. I was trying to explain to this person why I needed permission to come down. Of course, it was obvious that I already had permission from the person. We were friends. But I needed to make the permission official. But even this seemed like a moot point to me now. I may already have been in this friend's room -- this may have been the friend's room, not mine.

I looked down at a vanity that was built into the wall. On the vanity's countertop were some makeup kits and other beauty supplies, as well as some wet washcloths.

Dream #2

A young woman, maybe in her early twenties, was joking with me about the restaurant Applebee's. It was like the woman and I were part of some business that had Applebee's as an account: like we were advertisers or maybe some large shopping complex where Applebee's had had a restaurant.

But the woman was joking that everybody now called Applebee's "'child' Applebee's." This derisive name was due to the fact that Applebee's had canceled its account with our company. The cancellation had occurred, actually, because of an issue that our company did not feel was a big deal, but which Applebee's did feel was a big deal: a woman over the age of eighteen, having an affair with a woman under the age of eighteen, was found taking the girl out for dinner at an Applebee's.

I now saw a paper. I probably thought it was a newspaper, but it was really just a sheet of paper. It gave the story of the two girls having the affair. Both of the girls were from France. The older girl, who was twenty-three years old, was probably the daughter of some high-level French official, like a French ambassador. The girl's lover was sixteen years old.

There may actually have been some rule in France that said a girl over the age of sixteen was considered to be of the age of consent. So the two girls weren't really breaking the law, in France, by having an affair with each other. The Applebee's they may have been caught eating at may even have been in France. But it may have been in America.

Either way, girls over the age of eighteen taking girls under the age of eighteen out to dinner was against Applebee's policy, either in America or in France. A stuffy waiter, a lot like a French waiter, asked the two girls to leave the Applebee's. The two girls must have caused some sort of a fuss in reaction to the request to leave.

The whole issue became really big news. Some people supported Applebee's decision. But the company I worked for did not support it. So Applebee's canceled its account with my company. And, to make fun of Applebee's, everybody at my company called it "'child' Applebee's."

Dream #3

I had a view of the deck of a war ship, like I was seeing the ship on a television show, but also like I was actually floating, disembodied, over the ship. The deck was itself like a stage, rather than like a real war ship's deck. There was definitely a crowd, like a theater crowd, somewhere beyond the edge of the deck. And there were a few men in naval outfits on either side of the deck, standing still, like a chorus.

A door opened at the back of the deck/stage. From out of a yellow-lit passageway walked Mikhail Gorbachev, the former President of the Soviet Union -- though I might have taken him in my dream for Russian President Vladimir Putin. Gorbachev/Putin was visibly angry. Apparently the United States had taken a stand that Russia did not agree with. This decision was pushing Russian statesmen to the brink of considering war with the United States.

Gorbachev/Putin began a speech. He quickly got even angrier as he spoke. His eyes began bugging out of his head. It seemed, even as he spoke, that he was considering escalating the conflict immediately to nuclear war.

Gorbachev/Putin began trying to insinuate this without coming right out and saying it. But he stuttered as he tried to come up with subtle ways of threatening nuclear war. Eventually he had a model of a nuclear bomb, like the old 1940s/1950s style nuclear bombs, in his arms. The model was about two meters long. It was lightweight, maybe made of plastic, and it had a dull, gold color.

Gorbachev/Putin eventually flung this bomb across the stage. The model bomb landed in a pig pen. There were two or three men in sailor outfits standing around in the pen. The model bomb clattered around at the men's feet.

Now the whole thing was like a comedy, or at least like some kind of stage production, rather than anything that would become a reality. Gorbachev, who was now probably only Gorbachev, was standing flanked on either side by a sailor. The sailors seemed to be there to support Gorbachev in case he got weak. Gorbachev was wearing some kind of wooden, cubic frame around his head. This frame was supposed to symbolize a space helmet or oxygen helmet or something.

Gorbachev was acting like he was visiting an area which had just been struck by a nuclear bomb. This area was probably supposed to be in America -- another "subtle" indication of what Russian officials were planning. But when Gorbachev took off his helmet to see what America looked like, he was stricken with sorrow. The audience could all tell that all Gorbachev could "see" was desolation.

Gorbachev, carrying out this act even further, began to cry. But now the radiation poisoning was getting to him. He was beginning to faint. The sailors on either side of Gorbachev were holding him up. Gorbachev had something like an oxygen tube, a white, plastic tube, running into his mouth. Gorbachev's eyes rolled up into the back of his head.

I took all of this to mean that Gorbachev could see that starting a nucelar war would lead to the destruction of too many lives, and that Gorbachev had decided not to start a nuclear war with the United States after all.

Dream #4

I was in the living room of "my family's house." The living room looked unfinished, like it had the shape of a living room, my great grandmother's old living room, in fact, but like there were no carpets or plaster walls. Everything seemed to be made out of a dingy, greenish stone. My mom was standing up at some counter, taking care of something. I was laying, stomach-down, on the floor. There were other people wandering about.

I was staring at a huge jar of what I called spinach. The jar was the shape of a pickle jar. But it was about 75cm tall. It was filled with water and what looked like long-stalked wildflowers. The flowers had very small, dull-colored blossoms, like the flower was fading out. But the stalks, stuck down all the way into the water, were lush, dark green, and flowing with leafs.

The water was beginning to heat up from the bottom and center of the jar. I knew this actually had something to do with the vegetation. The jar was packed full of these wildflowers. And the wildflowers acted in such a way that, when they reached a certain density and mass, they would heat up greatly. If the wildflowers were put into water, therefore, they could cause the water to boil, thus allowing the flowers to boil themselves.

I knew this "spinach" was being prepared by my mother for a meal that I was expected to partake in. But I didn't want to eat this meal. I didn't want to have to eat a meal that had been prepared in the unsanitary conditions of this house.

Dream #5

I was in some room like a living room. I may have been sitting or laying on the floor. I looked off to my right, down a hallway. I saw that the doorway to "my bedroom" was open. Someone must have found a way to get past the lock on my door and get into my room.

I was a bit panicked. I stood up and walked into the room. My room was full of all kinds of brightly colored junk. It was a complete mess. But apparently I had left it this way. I began looking around my room. I wanted to make sure nothing was missing. But in all this disorganization, I realized that something was, in fact, missing from my room. Now I knew someone had gotten into my room.

I was pretty sure that the person who'd gotten into my room was still in my room. So I hunted around in all the clutter for that person. I'd been near my bed. Now I walked to the other side of my room, to a closet that was wide open, with no doors, packed full of clutter.

Something behind me got my attention. I now saw that a little, Asian boy (?) was sitting atop a bunch of clutter, actually sitting inside a drawer that had been pulled out of a dresser and had been laying empty atop the pile of clutter.

I walked over to the little boy. All this time, I'd had a feeling that one of my younger relatives, maybe a nephew, had been the one to get into my room. Now my suspicion was confirmed (even though I didn't actually know this boy). The little boy was darling and cute, so I didn't really bother him. I treated him nicely, figuring I'd just make sure he didn't have anything of mine and then get him out of my room.

But somehow my attention got distracted by something up and off to my left. It was like DVD cases for anime shows were flashing up in that corner of my vision. I started looking at the DVD cases. There were a lot of different animes. I remembered some of them. Others were unfamiliar. Most of them looked interesting.

I may have begun talking about the various animes, as if I were talking to the little boy. But the boy was now gone. I was in the room by myself. But I was still carrying on this anime conversation, as if I were having an actual back and forth conversation with someone in my head.

The conversation actually turned to a contentious point. I can't remember what the point was. But my argument against the point was that if somebody had a wide knowledge of anime, they could name the shows they were talking about. But, I also argued, if somebody didn't have a wide knowledge of anime, they could still probably bring up certain shows as examples of something, because they'd like things enough or be familiar enough with themes that they'd know what kind of shows to look for as examples.

stalkers and john malkovich; a lesbian duck?; the greatest of all time; afraid of love

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

It was night. I was probably in a huge pickup truck that my mom was driving. We'd come from out in the country, and we were driving through rolling fields of grass.

I don't know what we'd been doing out in the country. But my mom was now telling me how she used to take my nephews out to this area with their sheep -- apparently the family used to own sheep. The family would actually take cows and sheep down to this area. The cows were sold as food.

The sheep actually carried the cows on their backs. I saw in my mind's eye how this was done. A cow would be cut open and have its guts hollowed out. Then the empty carcass of the cow was sat over the sheep's back, so that it looked like the sheep was giving the cow a ride. It would have looked playful, had the cow not been all bloody.

Something about the sheep was also sold, but I don't know what. The main thing my mom spoke about regarding the sheep was how my family had gotten the sheep to eat so well. The sheep must originally have had a hard time grazing while they were out in the country. But my family got the sheep trained to eat out on the rolling pastures, and to eat the grass in such an orderly way that they'd create huge, even, smooth-lined squares of eaten grass.

I had been noticing a big, green pickup truck following our truck for some time. I could see the guy in the truck: he was a young, blonde man who looked like he lived in my apartment complex. I told my mom that that man had been set on me to follow me in the past. He had now been set on following me again today.

Somehow the green pickup truck got in front of us. There were three big, white semi-trucks in front of us. The green pickup wedged itself in between the second and third semis. So there were two trucks in front of the pickup, one truck behind it, and then my mom's pickup.

I told my mom, "Now watch. The truck didn't mean to get in front of us. But now that it did, it will find the perfect opportunity to get back behind us. It's been following me all day today. I have people following me all the time."

Without my noticing it my mom and I shifted into a public bus. We sat side by side in a seat. The bus was relatively empty. The daylight in the bus seemed a bit brighter and whiter than usual. The light inside the bus may actually have been bright and white.

I told my mom, "The same thing used to happen in Brooklyn. People used get set on me, to follow me around. It's just a different set of people. Out here in Denver they have a group of blonde haired, blue eyed guys following me around. People set these kids on me, to follow me wherever I go."

Suddenly some guy sitting in front of us looked back. He was sitting in some weird way, either like he was in a sideways seat, or like he was crouched on the floor, facing so that his right profile faced me and my mom.

But now that he looked straight at us, I could see that he was John Malkovich. But he was all done up in camouflage. He wore a mainly white, tan, and brown camo design on his pants, shirt, and even on a woolen skullcap. He had the design painted onto his face and hands as well. His eyes were also bugging out, like he was insane.

John Malkovich asked me something about the stalkers. He then took one or both of my hands with both of his hands and began stroking them while he made a weird kind of blowing "O" with his mouth. He started giving me some advice about the stalkers. But he then ran back to the back of the bus.

The back of the bus tiered up into a platform of seats. In the first row on that platform was an Hispanic man who looked drunk and passed out. Malkovich sat beside that guy and started almost cuddling his head against him. He then began telling the man about me, like Malkovich was actually a stalker himself, and like he was passing off information to the man, who was only pretending to be drunk and passed out.

Malkovich then ran back to me and started telling me things about stalkers. It all sounded kind of crazy, and I don't remember any of it.

Dream #2

A woman had been taking care of a white swan, which I probably called a duck in my dream. The woman was a really beautiful, copper skinned woman with dark black hair. At first when the woman had cared for the duck, the duck would always bite the woman. The duck may have bit the woman all over her body, but I think one place the duck always bit the woman was on the mouth. It would hurt really bad. The woman even got to a point where she wanted to kill or get rid of the duck.

But then the woman taught the duck how to read and write. The duck had apparently been biting the woman because she didn't know how to communicate with the woman. But now that she could read and write, her life was a lot more open and free and a lot more frustrating.

The duck was now writing something on a pad of paper and showing it to my view, as if my view were actually a camera filming some kind of documentary. The view may have been set in a small bathroom, where the duck and the woman were standing close together. The duck may have been up on some kind of pedestal, so that her head was even with the woman's head.

The writing pad said something about how grateful the duck was to the woman, and how the duck would show her gratitude to the woman by giving her a kiss. So the duck stretched out her neck and "kissed" the woman by biting her softly on the upper lip.

This shocked the woman. It hurt her a little bit, though not as much as the previous bites had hurt. But the woman started to wonder whether the duck was getting violent again. She had given only a soft bite this time. But what if the bites got harder and harder? The woman would be in pain all over again.

My view panned down toward the bottom of the duck, then down toward the top section of the pedestal, where it kind of halted, just looking at the blank space of the pedestal. I was a little worried, as well, about the sudden biting of the duck. But I also considered the fact that the duck had "kissed" the woman. What it the kisses between the duck and the woman got more passionate? Would the duck and the woman eventually become lesbian lovers?

Dream #3

I was at some job which was like a mix of my most recent job with the duties of a lot of my past jobs. I had been set on some task. But I was wearing really dirty clothes. I may also have been wearing women's clothes, maybe even just women's lingerie. I really needed to change my clothes before I got to work on my task.

So I walked into the living room of some townhome or ground level apartment unit. The living room was small and well furnished, but also cluttered with a bunch of neglected belongings. I had a backpack full of clothes.

I began trying to pull clothes out of the backpack. But every time I began to pull something out, I'd hesitate. I had pairs of men's underwear, but they all seemed to be dirty and sour in really gross ways. Some may even have been hard with filth. I had a bad feeling I'd just have to wear one of these pairs of dirty underwear. I'd hope nobody would smell or see or notice in some other way how disgusting my underwear was.

My emotions or focus shifted, and suddenly I was just getting ready to walk out the door, like I was fully dressed and ready to go. I slung my backpack over my right shoulder. As I headed toward the door, opened it, and looked down at some turned-off lamp on an end table next to the door, I had some conversation in my head.

The conversation seemed to be partly me talking to myself about a conversation and partly the actual conversation, which involved a group of people who studied mysticism with Carlos Castaneda. These people were saying that Castaneda was the greatest magician of all time. But that qualification would get mixed up with saying that Castaneda was the greatest Research Analyst of all time. And that statement would get mixed up with my co-workers saying that I was the greatest Research Analyst of all time.

Dream #4

I was looking at a catalog that was kind of done up like a porn magazine. But it was really something like a monthly who's who of sex and fetish in every state in the United States. The pages were a brick red kind of color, and there were grids of photos on each page. Most of the photos showed attractive women wearing lingerie or bikinis. The women were usually sitting, but in very seductive poses. Below each photo was a description of the woman and her particular fetish. At the top of each page was yellow, script-like writing in a kind of "California cool" style.

I flipped to the Colorado section, hoping to find a woman who would be into transvestites or adult babies. But, for some reason, the more I looked through the Colorado section, the more afraid I got. I felt some sense of danger regarding the women. I can't remember what the sense of danger came from. I may have seen or thought that some of the women were actually men dressed as women.

But there was something else I was afraid of -- like contacting any of these women would lead either to my personal information being stolen, or to scandalous information about me being shared on a wide scale. I even began to feel like just looking at the pictures of the women and men would somehow "transmit" my information to whatever place was ready to hurt me.

I quickly flipped to some other section of the catalog. I think I allowed myself to feel attracted to the girls in this section of the catalog. But I think that after a moment, I may have become bored with the catalog and put it away.

sex with married lesbian; escape from friend; missed race; irate showgoer

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

I lived in a big apartment in a big city, maybe New York City, with another man. The man was black, a bit overweight, with kind of big hair. He was maybe in his early forties. The place was mainly his. I rented out a small room in the apartment. But even the small room was very opulent. Most of the surfaces in the apartment were white, lit with golden, incandescent lights from chandeliers.

My ex-girlfriend H was coming over to visit. But I might not have been sure when. It was night already. I may have gotten a call from her at some point. But I may have felt like I'd like a little more assurance on when she'd show up.

I floated out of the apartment. The sky was a warm, dark blue, like there was still just a trace of sun sinking down far past the horizon. But it was supposed to be late night. All the buildings and streets were bathed in orange streetlamp light. The streets were packed with cars; the sidewalks, with people.

In order to get a lock on who was were in this mass of cars and people -- mainly so I could see whether I could find H, I began using a video-game-like viewing technique. I would impose a pink- or red-outline square onto a car. Somewhere in my field of view I would get a readout of the people in the car. I would do a number of these cars at once. I would do a similar thing with the people on the sidewalks, except that, probably, instead using a square outline, I just pointed at them with something like a small dot.

I may now have seen H walking down the street toward my apartment building. I began floating back into the building. I saw myself inside through one of the windows. I saw myself sitting at something like a dinner table and nodding very seriously at some person I couldn't see. I figured that I was talking with my roommate. He may have been telling me stuff I could and couldn't do. But I wanted to see who I really was talking to, so I floated into my body in the room.

I was face-to-face with H. She was talking to me about how, just today, she'd had what she was talking about as a silly idea to marry a woman. She reminded me that lesbian marriages had been made legal recently. She told me that one of her friends, who was a lesbian, suggested that they just go get married as a joke. So H and her friend had gone off and gotten married.

H seemed to think this was just a joke. I felt like she, as usual, wasn't getting the importance and permanence  of what she'd just done. I was probably jealous of H being in a lesbian marriage. But I was even more annoyed that she thought it was all a joke. If it was something she'd regret later, she needed to know. I thought either she was really in love with the woman and she didn't want to tell me, or else she thought she'd done something for fun and now it would come back to get her.

While I was trying to think of the best way to tell H all this, H and I had moved to the bed, which may have been in the same room as the dining table. H and I were laying on our sides and embracing each other. We may have been kissing. H was wearing a long, greenish khaki skirt and a purple tank top. I had the skirt pushed up the back of H's legs. I was feeling H's bottom.

H asked me something like, "Do you like this?" I responded yes, possibly thinking that H meant, did I like having sex with a lesbian.

Dream #2

I was in a small bedroom with an adult woman and someone else, possibly a child. The room was dimly lit with a stark, incandescent bulb, like some bulb just laying on the floor. The walls were bare, probably white, but there was some kind of a blue tinge to them. The whole space was empty and pretty clean, but everything felt tight and restless.

My old friend R was coming to attack us. He may have gone completely insane and started killing a lot of people, with us as his next targets. Or else we may have exposed him for something, and he may now have been trying to stop us from doing something like giving conclusive evidence. He may have done something criminal in a business or political sense. Or we may have seen him murder somebody.

We knew R was way downstairs but was working his way upstairs. We had to get out of here as soon as possible. I gathered everybody up. There was a back door in this bedroom. The door led to something like a spare room. I got us all into that room. The woman was slightly panicked. But the child was very panicked. It was hard to keep it in the room.

I was kind of dizzy, and it was really hard to see. I pushed on all the walls. One of the walls opened up, in two layers -- the first layer coming in toward the room, and the second layer pushing out away from the room. I knew this was a secret exit from the house or apartment.

I had already jumped into this exit. It was now something like a small slide, with either a flat metal sheet or metal rollers for a floor and white walls and ceiling. It was so small that I couldn't stand inside of it. I had to sit. And it was steep. It was hard for me not to slide down. I was already a couple meters down.

I shouted up to the woman to get the kid inside here. This was the place I'd been looking for. We needed to escape quick. The other two got inside. But my friend R had taken one of the people's places, I'm not sure whose. The other two slid down the slide. I closed and locked the exit. Then I slid down.

We landed out in some area full of small shops and restaurants. It was early evening, and the sky and atmosphere were deep blue. There were gleams of light from the shops and restaurants. There were a few people here and there, but nobody noticed us just landing here, apparently from out of nowhere.

I told the woman and child (R was no longer there) to stay calm and not look suspicious. We began walking down one of the streets. We soon found ourselves in something more like the back end of a residential neighborhood.

I told the other two that we had to escape now. I said that the best way to escape would be to take a train -- there was a stop just a few blocks down the road -- to one of the cities up north of here. Apparently we were in New York City. So we were going to head up to one of the cities farther upstate in New York. I named a town, as if the naming of the town itself would save us. The name may have been Osceola. But I'm not sure.

Dream #3

It was daytime. I was out at the edge of some park. I stood on a promenade with a stone fence at the top of a steep hill that overlooked some town. The stone fence had a chain-link fence built out of its top as well, for extra protection. I stood before a bench.

A race had just finished. It wasn't quite a normal running race. There had been something else involved, maybe wheelchairs, even though nobody in the race really needed wheelchairs.

My old friend R showed up. He sat down either in a bench next to the bench I stood in front of, or else on the stone barrier itself. I told R that he had missed the race.

A woman now appeared and sat down at the right (my right) side of the bench before me. I sat down next to the woman and began talking to her. But now R got upset. I had a feeling he was really just jealous of the fact that I was talking with a girl. But he was doing something to indicate that he was feeling bad, like it was important for him to have someone to talk to.

I managed somehow to get the woman out of the way so I could get a better look at R. R told me that somebody he knew had cancer. I realized that R had been sad about this the whole time. I suddenly felt bad for having made such a big deal out of his having missed the race.

Dream #4

I was walking into some room. This room was like a lobby in a theater. In some other room something was going to happen, like a movie was going to be shown or something.

But coming out of a doorway opposite the lobby from the door through which I'd entered were two men and a woman. One of the men was the theater's proprietor. The other two were husband and wife. All three were older, maybe in their fifties or sixties. The proprietor was kind of short, a little shabby looking. The husband and wife were kind of tall and wealthy looking.

The proprietor was trying to explain to the man that he'd done something bad. Since the man had done this bad thing, the theater couldn't let him stay. This one bad thing done indicated that similar bad things would probably also be done once the show started. This would distract the audience. The proprietor couldn't allow that.

But the man was acting up like a spoiled child. He was yelling and screaming about wanting to see the show. It was like he thought if he could convince the proprietor he wanted to see the show badly enough, it shouldn't matter whether he would behave well at all while he was in at the show.

But the proprietor wouldn't let the man back into the show. So the man started threatening violence. The proprietor was obviously afraid. I figured I should at least step in at this point. Both the proprietor and I were small, compared to the man. But I figured if I stepped in, I could fight better than the proprietor, and maybe I could even stop the man.

The man was now yelling at me personally about how he'd been in the military. I was trying to determine how big of trouble I was in physically with this guy. I asked him what he'd done in the military. He now appeared to be in his forties. He had brown hair and a brown mustache. He wore sunglasses, a denim shirt, and blue jeans.

The man told me he'd worked with the Navy. I asked him where he'd been stationed. He gave me some location in the United States. I understood that his service with the Navy hadn't been much more than floating around on a ship just off the coast of the United States.

I could tell the man felt kind of bad about this, like he hadn't been able to risk his life like others had. So I didn't want to make him feel worse by getting into a fight with him and winning (???). So I just started talking nice to the guy. The guy, his wife, the proprietor, and I all sat down in the lobby, in some seats just like movie theater seats. A small screen was playing a movie. We all started watching the movie.

***

UPDATE: A discussion of some of the images from this dream can be found at this entry of my dreamday journal.


UPDATE 2: Picture added to dream #1 on July 8th, 2012, at 2:12 PM Mountain Standard Time.

swinging elevator; rat bites man

Good morning, everybody.

Dream #1

Some anime, or else a real-life situation where two anime girls were present. Both girls wore schoolgirl outfits: purplish, pleated, very short skirts and white button-up shirts with ties. One girl was more serious than the other. This girl had long, purplish hair. The other girl had shorter, kind of curly, orange hair. Both girls were probably secretly in love with each other.

The two girls were in the lobby of a hotel. They were being seen to by a worker, who was also a young woman or a girl. This girl was very polite and had very short, blonde hair.

The blonde girl led the purple-haired girl toward the elevator bank. The orange haired girl ended up staying behind. She looked down the corridor to the elevator bank. The elevator bank had red carpet with some kinds of designs on it and mirrored walls. It was lit in a kind of dim, golden light.

I probably now saw from the orange-haired girl's point of view. I didn't know why the orange-haired girl had been so shy about following the other two girls. But now I felt like if the orange-haired girl (I?) didn't get upstairs to the purple-haired girl in time, the orange-haired girl (I) wouldn't be able to tell the purple-haired girl how much she/I loved her.

I got into the elevator. At this point I may have looked around at the elevator, noting how similar all hotel elevators are, and how they must be made that way, to promote some similar attitude that's good for business. The elevator had red carpets and either white, plastic walls or brown, wooden walls.

I knew that I had to go up to the eighth floor. But the elevator was really slow. It was just churning up fhe floors. I watched the floors click by on a small, black panel with red LED lighting.

Finally the elevator got to the eighth floor. But it didn't stop there. It went all the way up to the tenth floor. I thought this was odd. I'd definitely pressed "8," to go to the eighth floor.

Now the elevator dropped, rather sharply, to the eighth floor. But just as soon as it did, it climbed to the tenth, then to the twelfth, floor. Then it dropped sharply again.

It was obvious something in the elevator's computer was messed up. I thought evetnually, though, the elevator would open at the eighth floor. But I was worried that before then, the elevator could get so strained by jerking up and down that its cables would snap, sending me plunging to my death.

But I didn't feel any signs of the elevator straining. So I was probably okay. But now the elevator began a steady, kind of fast ascent. I watched the numbers on the black panel increase. I knew the building only had so many floors. I was hoping the elevator wasn't going to do something like smash into the roof.

But then the elevator stopped. It had come out into some open kind of space. The elevator shaft was all made of glass windows. An.d I could see this, as if the elevator itself were also made of glass. I felt a little safer, now that I could see out into the clear, blue day. But I also felt high up. And the elevator was swinging wildly on its cables, back and forth. The elevator even knocked against the walls. I was afraid the elevator would crash through the windows, and that I would plunge to my death on the street below.

But the elevator finally calmed down. It was now motionless. I was safe. But now I was stuck. I looked through another one of the walls. I saw a kind of lobby or dining area below, for one of the high-up floors of the hotel. Someone down there may have seen me. So maybe people knew I was in trouble. And maybe someone would help me.

At this point I may have started thinking about the anime show of which the two girls were a part. I may have seen a video box with cover art for the show. The art may have been pretty heavy on the lesbian aspect of the girls' relationship. I may have gotten distracted about that, wishing I'd seen more of that, and trying to remember if there were any clues that things between the two girls would actually get that heavy.

Dream #2

I was in some place like a conference room with a young man. The young man was white, very pale, and bald, with black stubble growing back onto his head. He had dark, kind of tired eyes. He was a bit taller than I, and much more muscular.

The conference room wasn't exactly empty of people. But the young man and I were wandering around it like it was. The young man was here for something like a trial. He was being accused of something he probably wasn't guilty of.

I told the young man that I felt bad for him. I wasn't sure he was going to win his case. The person presiding over the case was Mayor Meyer (???), who was apparently the mayor of New York. I made some insulting comment about the Mayor. But then I turned around and realized the Mayor was sitting in something like a juror's box against the wall. I should have known he was sitting there. Other people were there, too. Now the Mayor had heard me say bad things about him. I'd be on his bad list now.

The Mayor just grinned at me. The Mayor didn't look too different, actually, from the young man who was in trouble. He was white and bald. But he was a bit more tanned than the young man. The Mayor wasn't wearing nice clothes. He wore a pale blue-grey sweatshirt with a dark blue or black shirt underneath.

I turned away from the Mayor and said something to appease him. But I said it toward the young man, about the Mayor, as if now I were no longer aware that the Mayor was even there.

I was now outside, in some strange place in the middle of town, watching the young man cleaning out some space. The space was like a vacant lot. But it had some concrete walkways in it. It was also set down into the ground and bordered off by concrete structures that looked like highway barriers.

The place had been extremely disgusting. But the young man had cleaned it off a lot. It still looked pretty bad. But now it was clean enough so that the young man could allow water to flow through some part of it. It was like part of this place had been a stream, but that the place had been so polluted that the stream had to be shut off.

The water now began rushing through the stream. But the young man suddenly panicked. He yelled, "Stop!" He reached his left arm into the water. He pulled it out again. A big rat was on the young man's arm. The young man had seen the rat get caught up in the rush of water. He'd panicked, then reached in to save the rat.

The young man's arm was gloved with a long, thick glove, not like a work glove, but like a hawker's glove. But the rat had actually managed, in its severe panic, to bite through the man's glove. I couldn't believe this. I kept trying to convince myself it wasn't true. But the rat had bitten all the way through the man's glove and into the man's flesh. And it was still biting the man. The glove was all bloody.

The man was trying to let the rat go free. But I yelled to the man to hold onto the rat. Despite the fact that the man had saved the rat, the man would have to kill the rat. Now the rat, a wild or feral animal, had bitten the man and drawn blood, the rat would have to be killed. Its head would have to be chopped off, so the brain could be tested for rabies. If the rat had rabies, the man would have to be treated.

But the man finally got the rat off his glove. He set the rat on some little railing. The rat ran off into some shadows and garbage.