rshort1202

I am in some room that is fairly large and open feeling. I’m not sure if it’s a house or hotel, but it feels like a living room. It seems like one wall is a climbing wall or climbing wall with no holds on it yet [*As I write this, I remember the John Mellencamp concert movie that was on TV last night and the large concrete wall behind the stage. I was trying to figure out if it was indoors or outdoors]. From the top of a darker, wooden dresser, I retrieve a Scrabble box that is propped up almost conspicuously. I am pretty certain this was not here before when I was looking for it. A ghost and Melissa both cross my mind as culprits. I bring it down and start setting it up, its edge nicely parallel with the wall. The pieces are few (I think many are missing) and are red and green, mostly translucent beads. I am going to play by myself. I am texting Melissa, and she tells me I made her day a few times, but also that she’s drunk. I think it actually reads ‘dunk’ and contains more typos. I ask what she had, and she tells me her neighbor got someone trashed, then brought over white wine. Again the message is replete with typos. I ask how much she had, and she tells me a few glasses. I am not super thrilled with her being drunk, but I realize that is irrational and find it understandable. I think I was considering asking her to hang out tonight, but it’s getting pretty late - 9:38?


I am walking outside, in an area that looks like the Bartley Ranch/Anderson Park area. The grasses are lush and green, accentuated by the pristine evening Summer air. A train track leads through here, straight on, seemingly not that far and apparently dead-ending. I think I am following it. I call Mom to tell her about this spot. As I’m looking at the track now, it seems further away and also like a road, only because I see cars driving on each side of it. There’s a white truck moving slowly, and I? pass it. I am now walking again and passing some houses that seem smaller, wooden, and close together (like in V.C. though slightly reminiscent of San Fran, probably because I was just there. Passing the slow truck is surely from driving there and back, too). Outside of a house on its small porch is Max’s mom as well as what must be his older sister. I think we see each other, and I think they may say something, but brush the thought aside. As I’m just about to pass them though, the girl asks if I’d like to buy a lemonade for $1o. The mom tells me it [the profits] is for them to buy movies and two other things. I hesitate, and tell them maybe on my way back. I’m thinking I’ll be walking the dogs back? so I won’t have to buy any. They seem to be okay with this reply. I think $10 is too much and am not sure I support them selling that in order to buy those things.