rshort1202

I am with Melissa in what seems like a mountainous area. We are in a cabin type building that feels like it’s on the edge of a gorge or some precipice. There is some event going on just outside the other doors that I think we’re a little late to. There is a cabinet for us to put our phones in, I think because there are no photos allowed. I place mine among the others, all screen up, as well as my glasses case? I feel my keys in my pocket, but decide they’re fine since they’re clipped to a belt loop with a carabiner. We step outside now and there are quite a few people, maybe our age or younger, sitting around on the rocky and uneven ground. They are all wearing puffy grey/blue coats that seem to be uniform, possibly with the same logo or team name. I realize that this is some sort of outdoor survival challenge and that I am wildly unprepared and they obviously are not. Melissa is in regular clothes and I am in a tie dye Grateful Dead shirt. It now starts, I think with a race.

I am at the lake (Tahoe, I’m pretty sure) with some family, I think Granny and Mom and maybe Makayla. We are at a beach that is not sandy, but more rocks and pine needles. There is also a fair amount of trees coming down all the way to the waterline. I have some clothes that I think have just been washed, because they are still damp. I am looking for a clothesline or even a string, but I don’t find anything. Now I’m at work with either Melissa or Laynie, still looking for a clothesline. We can’t find one anywhere, until we ask Carolina. She takes us to a stockroom, it being the only place she can think of that would have one. Sure enough, we look to the right and I see some green lines hanging from a hook near the ceiling. I tug on one, not sure how to get it down. I flick it a bit, and it comes off the hook. They look somewhat surprised, and I joke about not knowing how I just did that. Though the line had reached near the top of the high ceiling, it is barely even a foot long as I am holding it up I’m just slightly disappointed. I guess I’ve settled though, as I’m back on the beach. I’m walking back to our spot and noticing towels and clothes simply draped over the lower tree branches. I think it occurs to me that I could’ve just done this, but I seem pretty set on the clothesline.

I am at work when I notice about three pre-teen/teen kids run out of one of the doors (*it looks like the kids doors at work). They all have merchandise and are wearing backpacks. I think I am seeing this on video, so I am able to zoom in really quick. After I decide that it does look bad, I hurry out there. I step outside and think I see them get into a bus or school bus. They are not really in a hurry and neither is the bus it seems. After a few moments, I head back inside and sit back down. Charmi is here, sitting down at the cameras also (it doesn’t really look like we’re in a camera room, but more out in the open). She’s talking about what just happened, suggesting that it could have been prevented if we were watching. I say that we were watching but that we can’t be seeing everything at all times. She just seems adamant and repeats herself. Scott now shows up and nonchalantly starts talking to me (and Laynie might be here?). Charmi looks up, sees him, looks a little shocked, but doesn’t say anything. Scott just pretends like she’s not here. Scott and I are now walking somewhere in the store - upstairs, I think. He is wearing a blue beret tilted slightly downwards and something else he wouldn’t usually wear. I notice him walking through the racks of clothes instead of on the main aisles. I wonder why for a second but then realize he’s trying not to be seen by associates.i get it, but also think it’s a little much.

I am with Mom in what looks like a small, one main road mountain town. Across the street, I notice a large group of skiers, apparently waiting for a bus. The bus appears but then passes them by. Confused, they try to flag it down. I survey their winter clothes, thinking they’re wearing too much. It doesn’t feel cold at all to me, but I guess it makes sense for when they’re actually skiing. I think about how it’s only the first day of September, so this has to be the very first snowfall and/or day of the season. We’re in one of these wooden cabin type buildings that looks pretty empty when I feel the ground shake softly but consistently. I’m certain it’s an earthquake and wait for it to happen again. It happens again, this time more intensely, so I make my way outside. I notice others coming outside, some looking panicked. Mom mentions how of course we’re in Portland, guiding my attention to the snow-covered mountain right above us. I see some watching the mountain to see if it’ll avalanche. I wonder what we would do if it did.

I am at work (though it doesn’t really look like it - it does look like a retail store, but not necessarily JCPenney). It feels like I am upstairs, and I am with two unfamiliar others, one guy and one girl. We are sitting and playing a board game. The board is larger and sitting atop something. I think there are a few pieces, one being a longer, black piece of food (like a brownie?) Apparently when it is your turn you tell another player what to do and they are supposed to do it. I say this because the guy has told me to go count all the hangers in the store, and I am going to do it. I think it’s going to be hard to impossible but that’s just how the game works. I start on it, in what looks like the hallway to our employee entrance. I am counting and thinking of a strategy to not miss any when I see Mairin putting out some new clothes. They are men’s long sleeve button ups, in blues with subtle patterns, and I kind of like them. She is telling me and one other something as she fills an empty rack with a handful of the shirts. Now, a black man comes in and asks a simple question. I answer it, and he is super excited and impressed with me. On his way out, he gives me a pretty long hug. I had went for a handshake, but adjusted to a hug. He tells me thanks again, etc. I call him brother, and then hope he doesn’t take it the wrong way - it seems like he doesn’t. He asks if I like some orange beer? I’m not sure at first but then he specifies and I realize what he’s talking about and say “oh yeah.” He leaves and comes back in with a bottle of one and a glass. He gives them both to me, and I notice the glass has a little bit of what looks like peanut butter inside of it. I think that it’s gross and it’s probably just been sitting in his car or something, but that it’s a very kind gesture.




I am in some kind of cabin. There is a counter to order food and large paper menus hanging above it. I have to get kind of close to the counter to read the menu, and the younger looking employees are all looking to me as if I’m ready to order. To signal that I’m not quite ready, I start looking at the bookshelf below the counter. I notice a few stacks of books, one stack being maroon and antiquated looking books. I notice that every other ‘book’ isn’t really shaped like a book, but more like a box for a nice pen or something that shape. It looks like they’re in a series or all go together. I notice a girl off to the left poke a note out from behind something sort of secretly. I assume the note will be something about me ordering food. I go over and she hands me a different note, a full size paper. I glance at it, having no idea what it could be about. I think it could be about me or that it could be some kind of petition. I just fold it and hold onto it to look at it later.




I am at a small (rock?) beach at what looks like a large, clear pond. Emmy’s mom? sits next to me, and I notice Emmy swimming. I want to show her a picture of Makayla because they look so similar. As I talk to her, I am forgetting Emmy’s name, but remember it right before I have to use it.

I am on a road trip with Dad and Makayla, with Dad driving. We are going to Texas, and I see that we’re currently driving through a corner of Utah. It is like I am seeing a satellite map of a moment, and I notice that there is snowfall on the ground right above where we are and will be travelling. It zooms and pans to the right a bit. We pass by many lakes in a short amount of time. They are all fairly small, but they are beautiful. The water is clear enough to see the bottom of an entire lake as well as all the light colored and large rocks within.




I am in a store with Sage when I grab off of a shelf at about eye level a bottle of Lagunitas beer. I think I had been looking for it and am excited to have found it. I tell Sage how good it is as I open it up. I grab a glass from the shelf and pour the beer fairly vigorously into it, producing only a small, snow white head. The beer has the appearance of carbonated white grape juice and smells of the same. I take a sip and it is good. I pronounce Lagunitas funny and kind of laugh about it. Now, I am parking on the side of a residential street behind another car. Dad is on the lawn of this front/side yard, faced away from me; I have come to meet up with him. I think I have brought the full glass and the remainder in the bottle, each in a cup holder. I get out and start talking with him. I ask if he’d be offended if I just stayed at Mom’s while I’m going to school. He hesitates, almost as if taken aback, and then replies, “no, of course not.” He says I can do whatever I need to focus on school. I notice we’re under a large oak? tree that splits near the bottom. I’m now in the house here (Dad’s?), I think with Mom and Makayla. There is indication of past activity, though no one is currently here. There are two boxes of Panda Express open on the counter, each with a glass of white wine sitting too near the edge. I notice about five of the Lagunitas beers, all opened and partially finished. It makes me a little mad because he all of them without asking

I am at work when Charmi comes to visit. It almost looks more like a house. Scott is here and begrudgingly gets up to get the door for her. He opens it and immediately turns away from her. He talks to her detachedly but doesn’t really look at her. He is sitting and, for whatever reason, I notice his mustache moving slightly as he speaks. Now I think it is just Charmi and me. She asks if it’s been pretty slow, slightly derogatorily. Just as I say ‘yes’, I notice a group of two girls and one guy about my age what definitely look like they’re trying to steal. They all look clean cut and put together, but I notice the one girl carrying a stack of Levis and wearing a pretty full looking bag. The other girl is carrying a small armful of merchandise as well. They are just past what seems to be an opening in the floor for an escalator. I think they notice me eyeing and walking towards them. I walk up to them and don’t even need to say anything before they start tossing the merchandise down onto shelves and displays and walking out. I sort of wander around now and just so happen to walk up on the guy coming back in, on the phone. He notices me, but continues walking and walking with only a slight hesitation. I hear him casually say that he’s just gotten pinched/fucked? (or neither of those, but something similar?) I wonder if he is really trying to come back for something.




I am with Melissa in what seems to be the ocean, right about where the waves are breaking. We are waiting for them to come in and are riding them for a ways before going back out to catch another. It is simple yet fun. A few big ones start coming in and I fear that they’ll break on us, but they do not. The beach is a slightly sloped expanse of golden sand, upon which I notice only our towels and stuff set up. Everything seems to be lit, though the sky seems to be dark.

I walk up to a small bar counter in a small room. The room seems mainly to be for some standing space and the counter. I think there is a window with a view behind the counter or a little off to the side, adding some hazy sunlight. A few moments after I situate myself at the counter, a clean cut and conventionally attractive bartender turns his attention to me. He makes eye contact and lifts his chin as a way of asking what he can get for me. The menu seems to be hanging and is in two sections. Each option is a wine, but each is the name of a place. I tell him I see that the options are names of places and not varietals, and I ask what he would recommend given that. I am confident in what I am saying, but I’m still self conscious of my voice. There are people on either side of me, and it feels like their attention is on me and what I’m saying. The man asks what I’m looking for, and I say a white because of the hot weather. He asks what kind of flavors, and I say probably something more creamy than tart and something more sweet than not, but not cloyingly so. I end up saying quite a few flavors to where it still makes sense but is not very specific. He asks me to narrow it down, and I say ‘just not a red.’ he and the couple to my left start laughing. Self conscious, I ask what’s so funny. Amber from Sephora is here now and telling the man “babe, be nice.”





I am in a smaller house that seems to only have basic furniture and no adornments. There is a couple that calls me (from the house across the street I think). The woman is describing a ‘medical emergency’ that really doesn’t sound like one. They want me to do something about it, but I’m trying to talk it down and get out of it. They still end up coming over here, into the bedroom I am in. the woman, with dark hair and eye makeup, starts reprimanding me about the nature of the ‘emergency’ and my reluctance to remedy it. It sounds like the guy, what is here but not saying anything, only scratched his finger, I think from the pin part on an EAS tag. I apologize, empathize, and just nicely tell her what she wants to hear. She’s fairly understanding but still comes off like she thinks she is so in the right. I let her think that but still think it’s puerile. They then leave, I think on good terms.





I am in an unfamiliar city, on a bike. There are buildings either way I could go on this street. I know I need to go somewhere, but I’m not sure where and I’m not sure which way to go. I just follow my gut feeling and it turns out to be right. I am riding along the sidewalk, slightly downhill. It looks like the road is turning into a bridge over water. The sidewalk is divided down the middle by little white markers standing up. Everyone is to the right, and they all seem to be going slow. The bridge seems to be more of a flat expanse now, the road blending into the sidewalk, blending into a smaller barrier at the edge. We seem to be right at water level or just barely above it. The water is bright and clear, soft sunlight brilliantly reflecting upon it. The whole scene is beautiful and slightly surreal. For some reason, I think this is London.

I am pulling into a fast food drive through, I think a Del Taco. The curve is a little sharp, so I feel close to the curb, the menu, and the small table on the cement right by the menu. There is a lady sitting at the table, and I feel like she is looking at me. I pulled up too far past the first menu, but I can still mostly make it out; it has a list of red wines. I consider ordering a glass, but nothing seems too appealing. They all look to be $6 a glass, which I think is a good price. I now start speaking with the employee through the speaker box. She says something that I ask her to repeat, so she says it again - she’s telling me that she’s about to go home, I think implying that I should hurry up. I pull up to another speaker box? and quickly order instead of looking for something new, so I don’t hold her up. I order two of one thing and two chicken quesadillas.

I am with some unfamiliar blond girl about my age. I think each of us are sitting on a bed. It seems like we’ve been talking or on a date. There is a sense of this coming to an end when I look over to my left and notice that her small breasts are out. I think the moment was something innocent, such as her changing, but I have noticed them and she is doing nothing to cover them. I am now by her and, without saying anything, have taken her breasts into my hands. They are very small, but just perky enough to stick out from the roll of skin on her stomach from her slouched posture. Though there is nothing said, I think this is okay with her. Now, she is completely naked. Still not sure if this is okay so soon, I have my fingers inside of her. It seems shallow; without full insertion, I start reaching a point where they won’t go any further. She starts moving my hand, either for this reason, because she doesn’t really want this, because I don’t know how her body responds to what might please her, or a possible combination of any of these. I had also noticed that she was very thin, my hand and fingers seeming large in comparison. Now that it is done, I realize that I have cheated on Melissa. I have to reconcile this with the fact that I never wanted to do this. I contemplate telling her and how to tell her.

I seem to be at work when I answer a call about a girl in white what is following someone into the men’s restroom. I go to check it out, going downstairs, I think on an escalator. This place looks like a retail store, but sort of tall, thin, and cluttered. I now see the entrance to the restrooms, with large pieces of dark wood giving a dim but home-y cabin feel. I enter the men’s, which is on the right. The bathroom is huge and spacious. There are at least two separate spaces with lines of urinals along the stone? walls, each space with a different kind of urinal. The ones closer to me are stone, while I think the others might be steel. I walk up to a stone one and begin using it. It is long and low, sort of a stone rectangle with a basin. I start peeing on the stone above the basin, wondering how many have done the same before. I think there may be one other guy in here, as I seem to hear or sense motion. I look around, thinking about how this bathroom is at least the size of a large room (like in a public building or something; it’s probably the size of a small restaurant). I look around and leave a different way than I came in. I walk up an asphalt path on a slight hill. There are wooden picnic style tables on either side, some with remnants of meals. The whole area is covered by a shade structure, probably some kind of mesh or light tarp, as it is not very thick shade. Passing one table, I notice a tall glass with a handle that is still mostly full of something that is a chocolate milkshake color and consistency. I somehow see a review that they left of it, about how they didn’t like it? I think about trying it but don’t. I now pass an ice cream stand and think about getting some but don’t because it’s too expensive.

I am with Melissa in Virginia City at a brewpub or something similar. We’ve parked along the side of the road and it seemed like more of a steep incline, like the road around Tahoe. We walk up and take seats at the counter. The waitress seems a little younger, nice, and laid back. I look at the beer menu and the double door beer fridge. The fridge seems to have a better selection, and I decide on picking something from it. An older lady walks up to it and grabs a Black Butte Porter. I notice a ceramic, 11oz bottle of Delirium Tremens. I also notice, at the very bottom, what looks like ceramic, 2 L sized containers of Delirium on their sides. I wonder the price of each and then go grab one of the small bottles. I sit back down and think we’re going to order food also. The waitress is talking about something going on, but has to explain it because it’s our first time here. I now pour my beer into a regular pint glass. I realize it is not Delirium Tremens, but rather Delirium ‘Trem’ or ‘Tremen’, which I assume is a different style of beer from the same brewery. I think it is a saison. It is a very nice hazy light orange, and it tastes very good. I notice that Melissa has a tulip shaped glass with a little bit of water in it; I think about stealing it to use instead of the regular pint glass. I also think this beer is closer to 4% than the 8% of the Tremens. I think about being responsible since I’m driving, but I also think about how it’s nice up here and how we could just not worry about going back and go to a few more places.




I’m driving to Carson City, and the freeway seems more straight ahead and lower in elevation. It is sunset, and the sunset is beautiful. The clouds are thick and heavy and dark, full of dark orange and red and spots of purple. I see the backyards of houses to my right. I know they’re close to the freeway, but they still seem nice. The yards are small and close together, most with a good assortment of trees, some with string lights. I think about living out here since it’s smaller, thinking the drive might be worth it if I worked out south and/or mainly stayed out here. I think that it would be closer to Tahoe.

I am at a tap house or something similar, deciding between a few options. I either decide on a stout or the female bartender just pours one for me. It comes in a small looking glass, almost pitch black. I try it and it is pretty good, not amazing, but enough to remind me of my appreciation for stouts.

I am either at a concert or watching a video of a concert. I think I am at it, but it is like I started watching a video of it or saw a thumbnail of it on YouTube and then ended up at it. I had been looking through my Watch Later on YouTube, and it was full of Pink Floyd and Doors concerts. I noticed that I had also been watching videos of speeches or someone talking about different topics. This venue has the feel of a warehouse or hangar, airy and dim. The stage and seating riser are long. The Doors are performing, and it sounds like they, and especially Jim, are on top of their game. Jim is animated and fiery. I am now seeing a panorama of the crowd, from the stage, at about stage level. They seem to all be standing and very animated as well. I notice a diversity in skin color. The fashion seems wildly eclectic, possibly 60s, but almost hyperbolically so. There seems to be a good ratio of women to men, many women carelessly or ecstatically topless. The shot pans and lingers on a black man and white woman amid the crowd, the woman’s pants unbuttoned and the man casually rubbing her over her underwear. They’re standing straight and next to each other, so undetected by only the camera. I find some humor in the shot’s slight lingering on this candid exposure of the moment. I now have to use the restroom and end up finding a unisex? bathroom at the end of a hallway. The hallway is slightly ornate, as if in a theater or old house. I think a woman comes out right before I go in, possibly saying something to me. In the bathroom, there is a toilet against the wall and then a ramp up to what looks like a stall. I go into the stall, only to find that the door swings into a position that leaves about a foot long gap. I go back down to the toilet and stand to use it instead. I think it is too low and I aim too high, accidentally hitting the wall at first.

I think I am at work, maybe in the mall? There is a lady at a kiosk or shop with whom I’ve gotten into some kind of verbal altercation. I think it is not unjustified. I am saying something about how it’s the worst service I’ve ever received. I think I’m now in some sort of trouble for what I’ve said and/or done, and I have to leave. I’m with Laynie now, and this place looks and seems more like an elementary school. I am not going to leave, and I think she’s aiding me in not getting caught. It is dark out, and I think we’re attempting to stay in here for the night. There is a group of people who I think are walking around, checking for anyone still remaining. Laynie tells me to hurry, and we run out to my? parked car on what looks like the driveway outside of the old 695 house. I unlock it with the remote on my keys and we climb in, her up front and me in the backseat. I lie down and sort of cover myself with blankets. I think it’d still look like a person if they looked in, but hope it’s too dark to see that well. At one point I am in the front yard, and it seems very overgrown, but with pretty flowers and grasses.