rshort1202

I’m in a larger, open, minimalistic building. It seems like a restaurant or coffee shop, though there is nothing out on the counters or put on the walls that would indicate either way. I am arriving as if I work here. The first person I run into behind the long, low counters is my ex Reilly. She looks pretty much just like she used to, if not a little older. I think her hair is styled up somehow. I think we begin talking, and she comes across rather rude, ruder than when we’ve ran into each other in the past. She must be wearing a crop top or something similar, as I notice a pronounced scar on her stomach above the hip bone. I think I notice one or two others, and don’t remember them ever being there.

I am in some building. It seems to mold around the surrounding terrain and/or go below it. The architecture is minimalistic but sleek, dark wood and darker walls. Everything seems angular as well. I am looking for a restroom and find one, an opening, at an angle, in a wall. I enter and follow it, a longer hallway. It seems both open and private, and I love this effect and its subtle opulence. I think before I fully get into the restroom I arrive at a corner that opens into a larger space. Off to the left the building is open to the terrain, a rock grade with a small trickle of water. In front of me is the main opening, a vault type space, the far side of which is a wall coming out of the terrain, with a large, high window. Through the window I see some tables and two old men sitting at them. I take a picture of the scene and when I look back at it, the men look ominous and familiar. (They look like Ken Rose and the old customer at work with a ponytail and pebble mask). I think I take a turn and end up making it to the actual restroom.




I am in a car with Vladimir Nabokov, him in the driver’s seat and me in the passenger’s. He has a piece of paper, on which there is a line of symbols that I think repeat. I’m not sure the objective here, if there is any, but he’s found a clever way to pencil in a few to perfectly look like the outline of a house (he gets two or three on the larger sheet). I think this somehow correlates to his last name.

I am at work, and someone is looking for The Fountainhead. Over in the classics section, I can’t find a single copy, or any Ayn Rand for that matter. I think I even check Fiction just to be sure. Luke is here, so I ask if he’s seen one. He says no, but does help look around. I think I finish up with the customer when he brings over a tall, thick (textbook size) paperback. Apparently it is a version of the Fountainhead without any editing? I go to find the customer to suggest it, but by the time I do this book looks like it’s about something else entirely.

I’m at work when Reilly’s mom Cully comes in. She recognizes me and seems happy to see me. We talk for a little bit.




Something about a seemingly endless house.

Arriving at a restaurant, I meet Brooke at a booth. The restaurant seems opulent and large, but almost like it’s inside something else, such as a shopping mall. I’m pretty sure Melissa is coming too. The waitress, cousin Renee, comes over quickly for our order. I think I tell her we need some time. Her interactions are hurried. Looking over the somewhat short menu, I decide on the ‘women’s dinner.’ I don’t care what it’s called - it comes with a few things that sound good. I also look over the drink menu - mostly frilly cocktails. When she comes back, we order. I think about asking if there might be a good beer that’s not on the menu, but decide against it, thinking it kind of desperate.




I am in what seems like a highschool, showing up late to a class. Looking through the closed door, I see almost every seat (~20+) occupied. The teacher must notice me, as she tells me to come in. There is a project that’s due and is being presented today. Mine is a picture or sculpture of a dolphin? with drawn white lines on/below it. (*This reminds me of the painted dolphin sculpture I made and had as a kid.) With a lurch of the stomach I realize that I’m missing a large portion of what I need. I think these things are different line weights and an explanation of the typeset (*This is now reminding me of Dance, Dance, Dance and the Dolphin Hotel). I think that gets communicated to her, and she gives me time to do it. *Typing this a few days later, I’m remembering that sculpture as a whale, not a dolphin.




I am in a plane that has just begun its descent into Reno. I notice that we are very close to the ground already; specifically, it looks like we’re above the riverwalk. Quickly, I begin to think we’re far too low for not being anywhere near the runway. This sentiment is apparently shared with the pilot, as, with an ominous mechanical groan, the plane slows and seems to try to begin reversing. At this point it is all but futile. The plane almost comically collides with a ballard and begins spinning. The pilot works to correct the spin, and we then land not too abrasively on the large sidewalk. The ride was enough to set me a little on edge but not enough to terrify me, seeing how close to the ground we already were. At one point, I saw peoples’ shocked expressions as they watched from behind the curtain wall of a taller building. After the plane has settled, we unbuckle and disembark as if this is not too uncommon.

I’ve gone down to Discology. David, as always, is there and looks happy that I’ve come in. The store layout looks pretty much the same, except the main counter area is a glass case. Looking at it, I see that it’s full of different types of weed. It looks similar to a dispensary, but is very simple. I notice the differences between the different types of flower on display. I think there is a representation of each in a vial that either magnifies it or otherwise makes it very clear. I think I smell each too, and David talks me into a certain kind. The bud is a densely packed bright green that I do get a good feeling from.

I am in what feels like a casino, though one I don’t immediately recognize. Still, it has the typical dingy carpets, tinted windows, cigarette stench, and slot machines. It seems slightly less crowded than it should be, I think due to Covid (though I don’t notice any masks or think there is any concept of them in this dream. I enter the men’s bathroom that is in a wall that looks like it terminates on the outside of the building. This bathroom is long and narrow. There are multiple options of directions branching out, and I already like the privacy this affords. I take the first left and continue on, passing many urinals on the right side of the wall. I get to the end of this little hallway and turn to use the very last urinal. Now I hear noises and voices approaching l; I look and see a couple fumbling their way down here. It looks like they’re trying to fool around but are too drunk to do so. The masculine girl stumbles happily back into the wall. I am now outside of the bathroom and somewhat confused - it seems that the way I came through the bathroom should not be possible because, looking out through the window, it should be empty space outside of the building.

I’m at work, talking to Eric about how working here is so similar to the show Portlandia. I’m not sure if something happens or if it’s just in general. I imagine the characters, specifically Fred Armisen as the feminist book store employee.





Dad has brought me an electric razor. I am excited to get this so I can shave my chest, which I begin doing.

I’m going through an In’N’Out drive through with Mom in the passenger’s seat and I think Makayla in the back. This one doesn’t look like any I’ve been to - it seems too small and dingy. The menu is also incredibly tiny and therefore hard to see, so it’s good that I know what we’ll want without having to look at it. I order Mom a #1 with a chocolate shake and myself a #4. *I’m still in the middle of ordering when I’m cut off and awakened by my alarm going off.




I’m either at a Grateful Dead show or watching a video of one. I’m mainly, or only, seeing a fairly young (mid 1970s?) Jerry and Phil. At one point I am so close that I can see their teeth in great detail, Phil’s being thick and wide and Jerry’s being tall and skinny. They are each singing and playing with vigor. The song seems fairly long and jammed out. Now, I am seeing a setlist, I think online. It has track times, so I see that indeed some songs got pretty long - around 16 minutes. At least one title I didn’t recognize, which is very uncommon, if it ever happens, for me.
*Listening to Furthur last night, I was thinking about Phil’s singing.

I’m in the bathroom at Mom’s, and I think Melissa is here, in my room. I’m just past the threshold of the door, between the shower door and the wall. I suddenly become aware of two to three very large spiders on the walls to each side of me. They are probably a good six inches across and a very unnerving off-white. They seem bony or spindly/rigid, yet hairy, bristly, and agile. They seem far too close to my head, as if with one wrong move I would come into contact with them. I’m not sure if I feel fear or not, but I do know that their presence is very vivid.

I’m at some small restaurant. It seems like it’s partially indoors and partially outdoors or maybe is in some kind of enclosed plaza. I think I’m with 1-2 others. We sit at a booth, and there is a little wrought iron fence that can be drawn around it. I wonder about its purpose, if it has a function or if it's merely aesthetic. I look to a booth across the way - it is reserved for ‘the Germans’. I know there is potato salad and German beer here, so I assume they come here regularly for it. I’ve ordered a beer and it arrives as a half full stein. I finish it quickly (I think it’s a lager) and wonder if it’ll be filled again or if I’ll have to pay for another.

I am in a large house that seems to be up on a hillside. I think the house is Jim and Rhianna’s. (It reminds me of Harry’s house, including where it’s located). I’m in the large pool room, and it seems that the walls are almost entirely glass. Looking out, the landscape cascades down almost immediately after the house in a series of small but steep hills. They are the typical desert sand, sage, and stone. It is rather beautiful with them in the foreground and a view of the entire city in the background. It seems to be evening, and I imagine hiking/exploring through these hills.

I am in a building and looking for the bathroom. I find it and upon walking in discover that the three or so stalls are all occupied. This I can ascertain from the slight gaps between wall and door. Continuing around a corner I find that this next row of ~10 stalls is completely occupied too. At one point, I think it slightly odd that not even one is empty. I arrive into an even larger space in this same bathroom now (probably at least the size of a large living room). It is full of at least two rows of ‘toilets’ that look like rectangular pits in the ground. They are very close together with no dividing elements. These are crowded too and are being used, for defecation only, without reserve. My need seems to be pressing, so I squat over one, or maybe it’s more so kneeling. I notice that it’s no longer a pit, but a brown towel. I’m not sure how everyone is doing this, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

I am alone in Mom’s house when I hear a knock on the door. Coming from my room, I creep up to the peephole and try to see who it is. It looks dark out, and I see a female walking away from the male who is still right outside the door. Though he’s mostly a shadowy figure, I guess he’s in his late 20s-30s. Though she is walking away, I think she’s older, maybe in her 40s. I start to think maybe I shouldn’t have come up to the door, because he’ll have heard me or seen my shadow against the windows and know that someone is in the house. After a moment he leaves, but he starts walking around the side of the house towards the back door. In a small panic, I rush over there to make sure the door is locked. I also think I call 911 at this point. There is some trouble, like them not believing me or being dismissive. I end up outside of the house in an attempt to get away from this guy but also keep my eye on him. As I’m walking around, I notice the snow on the ground and that our house is one of the ones with no cars in the driveway. I wonder if this caused them to pick our house.




I’m with some people from work, by a large outdoor pool. I think we’re in a pool house or something, and it feels like we’re doing work things. I notice a printed schedule that has written additions on one of the days - Saturday? I think it’s Julia and Ethan that are here. Now, I am doing cannonballs into this fairly crowded pool. I do one and end up hitting the bottom even though it’s a deep pool. When I surface, Makayla? makes a funny comment. I jump again, moving through the air at about half the speed I really should be, and collide into a red haired boy. Again I’m jumping, this time soaring over most of the pool and gently landing in the patch of gravel past it. There is something about me being really good at cannonballs because I’m not good at other things.

I’m at work, and there is some discussion about who's going to drive the forklift. I think they need to train someone and/or need someone for just a bit right now. I consider doing it, though I also think that there’s something about Kyle doing it. Now, Jessica? has brought cake, and it seems like we’re in a house. The cake is chocolate with a copious amount of frosting, and it is very good.