Batch

11-13-2012 -- More to this in the beginning that I can't remember, as usual. I'm pretty sure I am in the Hickory House, except it doesn't have the right layout, and areas are much bigger. As I am wandering the house, I am watching something on TV, and it seems to involve what seems to be a balloon sculpture, except I grab it and it seems to be something else made to look like a balloon sculpture, a sort of prop.

It is three 260s braided together into a straight stick, but the braiding somehow makes it more aerodynamic, so it should be able to be tossed around a room and fly really well. [Though I haven't looked into it in real life for years, I think this is actually true.] The prop has some kind of balloon creature riding it, but I am more interested in the braided part. I can't try it out because it isn't really made of balloons, but I decide I want to make the same thing, and try it.

Problem is, as I start looking for my balloons, my mom tells me to use hers, instead, and points me at a huge 'bag' of balloons on the couch. She explains that Pioneer Balloons gave it to her for a give-away at a lecture she is giving at the clown section of a convention. This thing is massive, probably about two feet by two feet, and contains probably 15 times the amount of balloons my apron carries (and my apron carries around 2,000 balloons), and I am amazed and jealous that they have given this to her to use, then give away.

How can she have this and be giving a class at a balloon convention as a clown, when she has only been doing this for a couple of years, while I have been doing this much longer, and have never been asked to do so? But neither here nor there. I go to grab some blue balloons (a sort of royal blue color, a shade lighter than the basic dark blue) and they stretch more than they ought to. I decide not to try and mouth inflate, with my air and vocal chords as they are, and go looking for a pump, but the first one I find has a huge tip, and I know I could never stretch the balloon over it. The second one is a regular balloon pump, and works fine for me.

Problem is, as I start to blow up the balloon, perhaps a 10" section of balloon fills up, then starts bulging horribly before it pops. I start to stretch the other balloons slightly, and they are like pulling warm taffy. I try to grab more from mom's balloon bag, but they are all in the same condition, either badly made, or very old, with no strength and stability left, so I don't get to blow any up and try the designs. I am explaining all this to mom, while asking where the balloon prop came from.

She explains that some guy named 'Charlie' comes by every couple of days and drops off some balloons he has made for the local kids. I have no idea who Charlie is, but it is nobody I know. Suddenly we are at the convention (it is either an FCM convention or a balloon convention that has made a point to invite non-ballooning clowns to try and teach them) and I am wandering around, visiting with balloon artists I know, while having to admit I don't know where my balloons have vanished to.

I visit with Don Caldwell for a few minutes, and he is working on some great new designs he plans to use in a combination lecture and show tomorrow, then I find myself visiting with Joe White. Meanwhile, it is just a day or two before Halloween, and mom is talking about how she isn't taking her gig at the weird mall-like fun center that I've dreamed about making balloons at several times before, because she doesn't expect many people there on Halloween. Several others are trying to explain that this is one of their busiest days of the year, but she just won't listen.

It is quite late in the evening, and several of the balloon artists are talking about going out to a bar or nightclub for a little drinking and partying, and I'd really like to come along, but I start to realize that while I know these people, like them, and they sometimes teach me some designs, none of them are actually friends, and none want me along for the party. Bummer. I'm regretting Dale just went home from a Disney visit, because it means he's not going to have the time off to go to the convention, and I'm going to be all alone. Double bummer. [True ... my best friend Dale was just here in Florida for two weeks, and just went home ... part of why almost none of my dreams have been posted for the last couple of weeks.]

As the balloon artists head off to the bar, I just wander the streets. I am singing some sort of old classic song (perhaps Putting on the Ritz, but really, I think the song changed several times even as I was singing it.) As I sing the first line, I find myself walking next to several punk-looking teens, and I am embarrassed, so I switch to whistling. When I am whistling the last line, one of the teens sings it out (though by this point the last line may have been 'So happy together') and when the other punks glare at him, he says something like "What? It was a great song, and he sang that first line of it very well!"

One of the other punks pulls a small tray of Stouffer's mac and cheese out of the microwave, and spits on it to show what he thinks of this. I make some sort of smart-alec comment about how he has no musical taste, and I, for one, don't want any of the mac and cheese either, thank you very much! The others laugh and agree, and he gets mad and throws it at me, getting mac and cheese all over my shoes. I walk off down the street, trying to wipe the shoes clean.

Spoiler for Becoming lucid and sex:

As I walk down the street, I find myself approaching three more teens, two guys and a girl. They are probably 17 or 18, not super-young. The girl is a very attractive blonde, with flowing, long blonde hair, an attractive face, and a pair a nicely formed, nicely-sized breasts, probably C cups. I know this because she is not wearing a top. As I walk past them, I am trying to get as good of a look as I can without staring and gawking.

As I walk past I find myself thinking 'that's illegal. She could get in trouble for that, and while somebody that age might run around half-nude on a dare or a prank, they would not be so cool and uncaring about doing so in public in front of a stranger. I must be dreaming!'

I hold my hand in front of me, and start trying to stretch my fingers. Nothing happens. I bend down and try to push my fingers through the curb I am standing next to, and again, nothing happens. Yet I am convinced I am dreaming. I lift my hand to my face and start looking closely at my fingers. Several of them have been cut off, and end in stumps. Yet at the same time, they are whole and complete. One is bent off at a weird angle, like it is broken, yet at the same time it is perfectly straight and normal. 'This is more like it,' I think. (Was doing some reading about Schrodinger's Cat recently, which may explain the fingers both being there and not.) I am so excited to have proof that I am dreaming, that I start to walk on air, actually kind of dancing around perhaps 6 inches off the ground.

I quickly turn to follow the cute half-nude teen, and in the few seconds it takes me to catch up with her, we are all now standing in a crowd at a cross between a playground and a ball field. We're at bleachers outside a short chain link fence surrounding the softball field. The girl was was half-nude is now in a uniform, preparing to play, as is getting younger before my eyes. She is now probably 16, maybe even 15, but still very hot, and in the dream, I just don't care.

I make a comment about how disappointing it is that she got dressed, and it just means more work for me, then I pull her close and start to kiss her. Being as it is my dream, she has no objections, and starts to return my kisses as I start to remove her clothes. We break the kiss for a moment as I pull her shirt over her head, and then kiss again as I start to pull down her pants.

The crowd around us are not as upset as they should be, but the game is about to start, and as I release the kiss and begin to strip off my pants and undies, her mother is urging her to run off to the field, as the game is about to start. She does, seemingly unconcerned that she is running onto the field, naked.

I'm a little upset about this, and turn to glare at the mother. After all, I was just about to have a lot of fun! But then I see the mother, and I really don't mind. She looks much like the daughter, long blonde hair, gorgeous face, even more stacked. She is perhaps around 37 to 40, and a complete knock-out. I am now nude, and I just grab her shoulders and gently push her to her knees, then shove my erection into her mouth. She just starts sucking on it.

Problem is, the dream isn't a very good dream. She's sucking like a vacuum cleaner ... even sounding kind of like one, but I'm not getting nearly as much feeling as I ought to be, from it. Meanwhile, we're in the middle of a crowd, but they can't quite see what is going on. The lady's husband wants her to come and sit with him to watch the game, and doesn't understand why she is on her knees. Even if he somehow can't see my dick in her mouth, I am halfway surprised he doesn't figure out what is going on just from her face being right in my crotch.

She seems slightly confused as she tries to respond to him, showing she herself doesn't really realize what is going on and she slurps her way off me and tries to answer him. I just push my way back into her mouth. But as I start to remove her clothes, people are having a harder and harder time not noticing what is happening, and keep approaching us. Finally, I gently wave a hand at them, and speak in a kind of hypnotic voice. I tell them they can't see us, and for a few minutes they won't even remember the woman was with it. They kind of drift away to start watching the game.

By this point, I have all the blonde's clothes off, and she is spread eagle on the ground in front of me. I start to press a large thingy into her slit, but disconcertingly, one of her legs has separated from her body. It is still moving in rhythm to what we are doing, but there is a gap of about an inch between it and the rest of her body. And still there is not nearly the amount of sensation there ought to be.

And meanwhile, though it has only been a minute or two, people are starting to gather around us, wanting to know what is happening. The husband seems to be actually figuring things out, and though it is hard for him to override what I told him, he is starting to try and get mad. So I wave my hand again, and in a more annoyed hypnotic voice am telling them they will forget she even exists for fifteen minutes. They start to drift off, but almost immediately are turning back to us again. So I wipe their minds of all memory of everything, with no time limit, figuring when I finish, I'll give them their memories back.

Problem is, it is even affecting the blonde I am with, and with no memory of anything, she is just laying there. There is almost no sensation, anyway, and this becoming completely meaningless. "Fine!" I snap, petulantly. I wave my hand and the woman is on her feet, completely dressed, as am I. She and the others wander away to the ballgame, and I just walk down the street, trying to think of something else to do, since I still know I am dreaming.

I don't know exactly how the idea comes into my head, but I somehow decide it would be fun to ride the Corkscrew, a roller coaster that used to be at Knott's Berry Farm, but was removed something like 20 years ago. I just start staring down the road, and a little in the distance, a mountain starts to come into being, and slowly the Timber Mountain Log Ride begins to appear, logs plunging down the long drop and splashing into the water. I can just barely see hints of the highest part of the Corkscrew's lift hill behind it.

I walk around the mountain and into the Roaring 20s section, but it takes some work. I have been kind of pulling this out of my mind and forcing it into the world, so things are sort of super-imposed on each other. As I try and walk into the Roaring 20s section of the park, I am walking under the freeway overpasses that were already here when I started to pull the rides into existence. Kind of neat, kind of weird, seeing freeway lanes filled with cars just disappearing into the sides of the log ride and the mine train areas.

As I move further in, I can now see almost the entire ride in front of me. But it isn't quite right. The cars should be red white and blue, but they seem to be green and yellow, and instead of riding on top of the track, they are hanging underneath, a suspended coaster. But the track itself seems right, and I am more than willing to try the Corkscrew as a suspended coaster.

A few problems, though. At first I can't find the entrance area, and when I finally do, the lines are very, very long. At one point, where the track dips to near the ground, after the lift hill and just before going into the corkscrews (the real layout of the ride), the ride almost seems to merge with the line, and people are just kind of being sucked into it. But when I get there, nothing is happening.

I decide to just bypass the line, and half-jump, half-fly up to the loading station, but as I do, the ride seems to have just shut down for the day, and there are no more cars on the track, so no matter what I do, I just can't seem to get a ride. Very frustrating!

[Oddly, while there was a lot of lucid stuff in the dream, a lot of cool dream powers and impossible things, still nothing actually worked out, and there was a lot of frustration throughout, as well. Doesn't change the fact that it was a very long, detailed, and interesting dream for me.]

---

There was another very long and detailed dream earlier in the night, but unlike this one, I couldn't remember much of it. I know there were some Harry Potter bits, and lots of repetition and boring bits. I also eventually found myself in a sort of higher-class version of the Adventurers Club, sitting on a large, ornate staircase leading into the main salon wearing either a bathrobe or towel. Either way, I am probably going to be half-nude as I stand up. A couple of anonymous female performers here, and some annoying interactions with BC for some reason. Might be interesting if I could remember it in full, but as it is, not worth much.