rshort1202

I’m going to go on a hike, I think on Mt. Rose with Mom and Melissa. I’ve put on a coat (I think with nothing under it) and a fanny pack. One or both of these has a bright color scheme that reminds me of the 80s. I’ve packed a couple of snack items. I’m now ready but still waiting on them, apparently not as concerned with being timely as I am. Now we’re in a coffee shop. Mom is trying to order me an Americano or cold brew, but there is some complication. The younger, brunette barista nicely explains the options of what he can make. I get overwhelmed and end up saying that I don’t particularly want a coffee anyway.

*After remembering and writing this, I just know it has to do with Granny. Sure enough, Mom calls me this morning to ask if I want to hike Mt. Rose with her this weekend.

Emma and her boyfriend are getting married. We are all at the small venue - a restaurant? - and I get the sense that we’ve travelled a ways for it. The interior is dim, carpeted, with darker wood. There is a mezzanine level with chairs at slot machines that have been turned to a stage on the ground level. I think some of Dad’s and Melissa’s family are here, and I’m sitting by Melissa’s mom. We’re looking at the single page menu that just seems to be a bunch of meats. We’re trying some and I like this certain salted one that I think I’ll order. I’m now up and walking around, looking at different things on the walls, and getting really close as if I don’t have any contacts in. I look at a very small beer menu right behind a table that a small family is sitting at. I’m awkwardly close to them, which they notice, and it also seems like I’m looking at them. I’m at a counter now where I think they are serving beer. There are a few options written on the counter surface and one middle-older aged guy serving. I look for a minute, then order the ESB, thinking it sounds good right now. For a moment I think it’s going to be a sandwich? but then he hands me a paper cup. It looks more like a latte or coffee drink. I try it and it’s good, tasting like a flat white with some kind of spice.

I am at Camp Richardson with some of the family. Right now we are in some trailer that we are touring or in which we are planning a tour. There is something about it being a small space and people not wearing masks. I think David from Discology is here. Now we are down at the beach. The beach is a deep and wide expanse of only sand that doesn’t seem to be crowded by other people. The water is calm and devoid of boats, etc. I am a ways out and jumping off a tall (20 ft?) wooden structure. There’s something about the Grateful Dead - maybe they’re playing in the background? I jump in and immediately hit the bottom, hard, but it doesn’t really hurt, which surprises me because I thought it was much deeper. Back on the beach, Michelle is here and brings me a Starbucks? coffee, which I think is very sweet of her.

I am outside somewhere - it feels like an outdoor shopping mall or a boardwalk. I’m walking to a restaurant when I see Alex and Daylen. They walk over and we talk for a bit. I go into the restaurant now, more of a counter service place (maybe a MyPie?). It seems dim and there is a long, double backed line of people, spaced apart by pieces of large white tape on the grey polished concrete floor. I notice that everyone in here is around 16-18 and immediately feel out of place. Despite their age, I can tell they are from this certain generation by the way they’re dressed and talking (*This reminds me of the barista last night that I thought was a pretty stereotypical example of the younger-than-me generation).




It seems really early in the morning (dawn or just before), and I’m walking up to some chain food place. I order two black hot coffees, just assuming Brittney is coming to meet me. When I text her, she says she’s already getting coffee somewhere. I finish mine, which actually has milk/flavor, and start on the other. The coffee is good for a place that doesn’t specialize in coffee.

Melissa and I have had a baby. We are somewhere outside where there are a bunch of tents set up - like camping tents, but I think slightly bigger. I think all of these tents are for couples and their newborns. I also think this is the first time we get to see our kid. Sitting outside of the tent, the baby is revealed to me. When I first see her I cannot help but to grin and be filled with joy. She is chunky but very pretty, with fine, yellow hair. We have named her Makayla, and, in fact, she looks like both Makayla and myself as babies. She crawls around, smiling and laughing (it looks like she’s around six months old). She gets that same devious expression on her face that I sometimes get and it causes me to feel excited. ‘She is spunky’, I think, imagining the years to come. I play around with her, making her laugh, giving her kisses. I tell her jokes and I think she actually talks back (not 100% mature, but definitely too advanced for her age). Now, I am leaving to go to a Starbucks that is right by here to reheat a drink for Mom. I walk through some storefronts along a slightly winding paved area and don’t notice anyone else out. Just as I come up on the Starbucks, I realize that I am not wearing a mask and that they may not take kindly to that here. Moreover and probably more importantly, I realize that I am completely naked. I become aware of my bare torso, backside, and penis juxtaposed against this setting. I wonder about the legality of this and then go back to get the coffee that I’ve forgotten anyway. I come back, this time clothed, but without the coffee. There are people wearing face masks and waiting, distanced from each other. The barista behind the counter sees me and goes to take my order, but I tell him I forgot something and I’ll be right back. Now, I am taking the coffee out of a microwave (not sure if it’s in the Starbucks or not). It looks like a short sized cup of a tan colored coffee drink. There is ice in it, but I think it may also be hot? I try it and it’s creamy and really not all that good. Mom is here, sitting on a long, brown leather couch. She takes the drink, tries it, and agrees with me. I am back with Melissa now and we are going to go home with our kid. I think about what life is going to be like now with a baby, specifically the nights.




I am with Dad somewhere and he’s talking about walking around some of the houses in this neighborhood (I think they are nice). I’m looking at one across the street right now. It is right next to the asphalt street and looks to be completely a glass curtain wall with vertical supports every ten feet or so. Right now it is mostly a reflection, so it’s almost as if it’s disguised, not there. Dad says he was walking by one and taking a picture and then he thought someone was about to come out and punch him - except it was just a woman? He says he offered to show her the pictures, that they’re just scenery and nothing bad. I tell him I feel weird/bad about taking pictures sometimes, too. Dad’s going to go for a walk right now and is offering for me to come. I look out and slightly to the right and see a woman walking up a slight ravine in a mostly green hillside.

I am in the room of some house. Also here is John. I am aware of the fact that he is actually not living, so I guess this must be some kind of apparition or spirit visitation. He does look somewhat different, though not his features - maybe a tiny bit transparent. His expression and demeanor are peaceful, happy, and content. We talk, and it is nice to talk to him. I express that I don’t want this to have to end, and with a grin he says that we are always able to do this.




I am working at a Starbucks with Brittney. There is a blond girl who orders an iced coffee at the counter but then never takes it. I think that this is supposed to be spiteful and/or mess us up, but I don’t see how, as she’s the one out money and without a drink. She continues hanging around and not taking the drink, though there’s no way she can’t see it. Brittney and I comment on this. The girl then ends up in an apron and working, doing dishes at a stainless steel sink. I then end up doing dishes, cognizant of how gross they feel. I scrub them with some black strap that has different sections of sponges of different coarseness. I notice that each section is labeled, I think with both a number and letter. I think we’re having a visit or inspection today.

I am on a boat with most of the family I think. It is a passenger boat with seating up top (like the boat we went on in Maui), and seems to be travelling pretty fast. I am holding a very full cup of coffee, somehow balancing and not spilling it. I notice the thin layer of froth on top and think it’s miraculous that it’s not spilling in these conditions. I think we now either pick up speed and/or it becomes very windy, because I’m finding it hard to just stay on the boat without holding on. Finally, I succumb and am tossed over the railing. I think I am able to strongly swim some of the way back, but they’ll have to come back for me.

I am outside and approaching a Starbucks. It looks more like a concessions building that you’d find at a theme park. There are a ton of people waiting, then I see that they are in three lines. I keep walking and get into the furthest line which is significantly shorter. I then notice that each line corresponds to a method of payment, this line being one that I do not qualify for. Since I’m almost up, I hope I’ll be able to slide by or tell them I didn’t know (the signs are rather small and high up). I am up now and the short and pudgy blonde barista about my age takes my order without regard to the line types. I get some kind of black iced coffee. We start talking, and I tell her how Starbucks kind of sucks. I tell her there are just so many more quality options, then realize that she works at a Starbucks so this might be uncomfortable for her.

I am driving up to what looks like some event outside of a school or something similar when I notice Makayla and Mom walking this way on the sidewalk. My window is down and it seems like a very pleasant day. Makayla is holding an imperial pint glass that looks like it is full of very light Guinness or nitro cold brew. I roll up to her and the first thing I say is “my goodness… my Guinness.” She says it’s actually some flavored iced coffee (hazelnut?). I try a sip and it’s really frothy and not all that bad. I think I already have an iced coffee as well. I realize that I’m in the middle of the road and start moving again. There is one intersecting road to the right where I am going to try to turn around, but I think someone has already gone around me.




I am at work when I notice a sketchy person heading towards the men’s shoes. I think he already has some merchandise and a small, empty looking, black plastic bag. When we see him turn the corner again, the merchandise is gone and the bag looks full. We agree that this makes him good to stop, so I try to get downstairs before he does. I do this pretty easily and get by the door that it looks like he is going for. I try to look inconspicuous, and when I look back I see that Bobby is right by him, talking to him, still in the store. I wonder what he could possibly be doing, until I see him start walking him back. This really irritates me. Back in the office, the guy is hesitant but compliant. He seems homeless. He says his name is Kenneth Cox and that he is 46? I get all the paperwork done before calling PD. I ask his birth date, realizing I’ll need it, and he says something like ‘5 o’clock’. He keeps giving me bullshit answers, and I can’t tell if it’s on purpose or if he’s just not all there. I realize he doesn’t have an ID, so PD’s going to have to come anyway. I think of how they may need video and how Bobby stopped him while he was still in the building, which irritates me more.

I am walking around downtown, and there seems to be an event going on. I walk into a smaller coffee shop, right behind a group of three girls about my age. They sort of spilt up in the line, so that I am in front of one of them. She is talking sort of excitedly about how she is going to get something with eight shots, as if her caffeine tolerance is just really high. I think one of the others orders and then they try to get me to go. I politely decline, asking if they’re sure, since I thought they got here first. They coax me into going, so I step up to the wooden counter. The barista is kind and friendly, with dirty blond/brown hair and tan skin; she seems familiar from somewhere. I ask for an iced Americano with five shots instead of the four I think it usually comes with. She says she’s already got one started, holding out a larger sized cup that’s full, too full for my preference, of ice. When the finished drink comes out, I take it over to a wooden bench along the wall opposite the building’s front wall and window. The evening light shines golden, drenching the place in a peaceful, languid haze. There are a few others sitting around, quietly keeping to themselves. There is a very laid back vibe, either caused by or enhanced by the lighting. I notice the girl who wanted eight shots is seated to my left, sitting lengthwise with the bench, her knees bent and feet up. She is wearing shorter black athletic shorts and is on her phone. She has two smaller bags on the bench, one placed on top of the other. They start to tilt and then the top one completely falls off, taking the other partially with it. I try but fail to get her attention. Now, I consider trying to talk to her or the other two also, but I don’t really want to bother them, as they don’t need anyone to talk to. I’m not sure what I’m going to do now, except maybe sit here for a while.

I am going to Starbucks with Brittney and I think one other. It is dark out. I’m not sure if we’re walking or driving, but either my leg or arm is pressed up slightly against Brittney. Her back feels hard and slightly warm through the soft shirt. Earlier, I had gone to a different Starbucks to pick up a mobile ordered Americano. I saw a tall cup about ¾ full that looked like the right color and with a little froth on top. I was impressed with how good it looked, but discovered that it was a hot chocolate after taking a few sips. I felt a little ashamed for assuming. We now enter the Starbucks and see Blake working. He casually greets us and points us to the right to mobile order pickup. The building seems low, long, and somewhat industrial and dim. We go to the pickup, and Blake comes over and begins making the drinks. He is now more friendly with us, striking up conversation. He is wearing shorter shorts and either no shirt or a see-through shirt/tank top? I notice his chest hair, brunette on his whole chest and torso, contouring his body.

I am at some house with some others (in the dream they are familiar, but I’m not really sure who they are. I think they are younger and family friends/people we’ve known a while but don’t see all the time). One of them is trying to see a picture of my hair when it was longer. I am looking through my pictures, but can’t find one. I then go onto Snapchat’s ‘my eyes only’. I scroll slowly, thinking I have inappropriate pictures on here. The boy is practically looking right over my shoulder, and I wish he would back up a bit. I don’t find any pictures except for what looks like a lot of pictures from Yosemite. I think I must’ve lost some pictures or something. We’ve been outside, but I now go up a slight hill and into the house to use the bathroom. Most lights are out and it seems later, leading me to believe that anyone in here is asleep. I go into the slightly large bathroom, and the door doesn’t shut quite right. I then get it to stay as closed as it’ll get and stand right by it while I use the toilet, since it’s right by the door.



I am with Melissa and Mom in a small coffee shop. Both Mom and I have cups that we’ve just drank coffee from. I think they both still have ice in them. Mom sets hers on the counter and orders a chai with espresso in it. I ask for an in iced Americano, also setting my cup on the counter. We all sit at the counter and Mom tells us how her and the barista, a black lady a bit younger than Mom, have known each other for a while.