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I am on a walk with Melissa, currently in a neighborhood. It seems nicer and the houses are not that close together, possibly because we’re on the outskirts of it. Now the houses are all but gone and it looks like we’re coming up on the Hunter Creek trail. We walk for a little bit up the slight grade and end up on a large driveway of faded, rusty orange stone. A few paces ahead of us there are about three or four kids also heading uphill. I think they are all girls. The oldest looks to be maybe eight and the youngest three or so. We nonchalantly keep walking with them and end up inside this large house on the hill. Melissa and I are in a smaller and tidy bedroom, maybe a guest room, and can hear the kids messing around behind the closed door of another room. Melissa now stands up and pulls her pants down; she is going to change. Before she can do anything else, there is some movement in the hallway and then a man and a teenage boy who is probably his son appear in the doorway. There is something off about both of their facial features. The whole scene is awkward. Melissa is wearing a shirt long enough to cover herself, but she does not pull her pants up. I assume the man is the homeowner and I am bracing for what comes next as he has just found two strangers in his house, but he just stands there and never says a word. For some reason, the waistband of my shorts (my blue athletic ones) is very low and I’m trying to discreetly pull them up. I know the scene looks bad too, with her pants down - from his perspective it probably looks like she was quickly trying to put them back on. I guess the man is just used to people showing up in his house, and now he is gone. I am now in a large, open living room. Another man with a small dog shows up. It’s just the two of us in here, so he starts talking to me, telling me the dog is Zoe. I tell him I have a Zoe too, a black lab. We make small talk as I throw a toy for this small dog. I think about introducing myself but never do, and he doesn’t either. He has glasses, is somewhat dopey looking, and talks rather slow. This room has a window almost the size of the whole wall. Looking through it, I can see that it’s close to sunset. There are hazy clouds with a tint of orange and closer to Mt. Rose there is a group of clouds with the sun behind them. There is a very large patio area with some people on it watching the sunset. I notice a couple, the guy behind the girl with his arms around her. The man in here makes a comment about some girls out there. I say something about my girlfriend being in the other room and then walk outside. I get to the end of the patio - it ends at a fairly steep rocky incline that has flat areas that you can still get to. There are a few people hanging out in these areas. I notice two girls laying on their backs, wearing shorts and tight grey tank tops. It is growing darker out and the sunset is getting good. There is a laptop out here playing a Dead and Company live stream, though the current song is nothing I recognize. (I think I somehow see the set list and the first few songs are nothing I recognize and nothing they’ve really played). Someone behind me is watching and right before they walk away they make a comment about them looking like ‘science geeks’? I think it’s because John is wearing glasses. I am looking at the sky again now and at one cloud in particular. This cloud, silhouetted by the sun, looks remarkably like an angel. There are wings, arms bent as if in prayer, and even a clear halo. I quickly take my phone out to take a picture to send to Mom. I take a picture and a video just in case the clouds shift. When I look back at the video, I see the part of the cloud that looks like the arm very quickly move to its face and back down, as if wiping a tear. I think this whole thing is miraculous.

I am flying. It seems that I’ve looked around me and noticed that I am maybe fifty feet or so up into the air. I notice the blue sky surrounding me and have to concentrate hard to keep moving upwards. There are two birds that I surpass. I notice a white fence way down below and continue using all of my willpower to stay afloat. There is music playing, seemingly just emanating from the surroundings, that I can hear crystal clear (but don’t remember) and that helps me stay afloat. I think I eventually come down.




I am on a walk and almost back to the house when I notice a house with an open garage. There is an older man sitting in a chair at the threshold with what looks like a border collie at his feet. It looks like he is having a small garage sale with most of the stuff in the garage (I think the driveway is short). I walk up and start petting the dog’s soft fur. I briefly consider the possibility of this spreading the virus, but the man doesn’t seem to care. The man seems friendly and pleased to have company. He says hi, I ask how he is, and we make small talk. Despite his amiability, I sense something slightly off. I notice a box of books and a box of what looks like VHS tapes. There’s really not much more, and nothing that catches my attention. The man asks if I have a MasterCard. I tell him “I have a Visa card,” not sure why he’s asking, unless he has a card reader. I was about to leave, but he starts telling me that he wants me to leave a card since I’ve already looked at stuff. A little baffled, I tell him it’s not that I don’t trust him but I just don’t feel comfortable doing that. Mom now shows up, like she was on a walk too. I tell the man I live right across the street, gesturing to the house directly across the street, asking if that changes anything. He contemplates and then says no. Mom and I just walk away from him; he accepts defeat without a word and sits back down. I notice his kind of creepy, flyaway white hair.




I am in some house; Mom is here too. I open the fridge and see that I have about ¾ of a glass of dark beer left. I wonder if it’s still good. I open some cabinets where the trash should be, but only find a ton of empty craft beer bombers.

I think I am outside somewhere with Jake. The area seems to be pretty barren, and there may be only one other person here. Jake is showing me what he does for work. This entails a sheet with a picture on it that is broken up into small rectangles by a grid. I think the picture is some machine with a slide/chute set against an empty landscape like the one we’re on. His job is to categorize each rectangular segment. I see a cheat sheet, I think with the sections filled in green, orange, or red. It seems to be that almost anyone can do this simple processing of information, though I think some of the sections are specialized terms, which worries me, though I know they’ll come to be understood in the course of the job. I think of working outside, envisioning my current wardrobe and what it may lack, and like the thought. I think of how it’s probably the same thing day after day, but push the thought aside.




I am scrambling on a slabby rock face. I intended to come down after a certain height, but it is so easy that I continue. There is a loose feeling flake towards the top; I just try not to pull too hard on it.

I think I am dating someone new and going to her house for the first time. (I’m not sure to what extent I am cognizant of my relationship or dating history in the dream - I think it is close to none). This girl looks similar to Yazmin. She leads me into the house, a fairly middle class one. I meet a succession of her relatives, from parents to grandparents I think. I notice that their English is correct but not very confident, more so down the line. The grandparents are the most Hispanic looking as well; I think they say nothing and only smile. I consider trying Spanish, but do not. This girl now takes me to her room. The room is dim and more like the size of a living room. There are at least three small mattresses or maybe just layers of blankets (for her siblings, I’m sure) in a row, barely a foot apart. She takes me to the last in the line, presumably hers. I don’t say anything, but I’m thinking that this is far from ideal.

I am sitting around a table with Kreg, opposite me, and about eight or so other students. One guy goes first and hardly says anything about his project (I see a fairly simple but not bad looking rectangular model). The group reaction seems very neutral, as there wasn’t much to comment on. I am then volunteered to go next. I tell then I’m doing a beach or riverside area. I say I guess it’s not actually much of a beach, but just a riverside area. I’m imagining a decent sized river slowly flowing through a fairly forested area. I show the group an early model for a chair that is completely geometric, with a large back and a triangular seat. I then show a revised version that is simpler and closer to a traditional chair form. Johnny humorously asks if I actually like the first chair. I say yes and that I like cubism. He chuckles and it looks like he’s going to pull something up on his phone to show me. I now notice a pint sized stein half full of light colored beer on a coaster amidst my stuff. I think others notice it too, and I become embarrassed yet still start drinking out of it after I’m done presenting.

I have arranged with someone to either sell a drum kit or give them a drum lesson. I think I’m outside of a high school with Melissa and step aside as my phone rings. I look for a good space to set up the drums that’s also far enough away so as to not bother anyone if I play them. I find a little alcove that I think should work well. The drums are also pretty nice, a light cherry wood

I am with Brooke in what looks like Mom’s backyard. I see a woman in a police uniform or something similar walking along the top of the fence, left to right. She does this easily. There is also a uniformed man off to the left that is just hanging back. I take out my phone and start taking a video of the woman. This causes her to become angry and ask what I’m doing. I tell her I’m just taking a video, knowing there’s nothing she can do about it. I go around to the front and see a cop? car in the driveway (the driveway seems longer and more level). I take a picture of the license plate and the VIN. She watches me, still irritated, but does nothing.

I am in some small store with Melissa (it looks like a convenience store or something). I notice a shoplifter and become annoyed with her. I eventually go up to her and start cussing at her. A customer here sees what’s going on and actually joins me. There was also something about Melissa being underwater in a small pool of clear water. I noticed her pale skin glimmering, and I think I was picking up pebbles from the bottom and placing them on her supine body.

I am in a garage (it kind of looks like the old house’s garage). On top of a shelf on the right side of the garage is a box that I think has two bottles of red wine in it. They are a generic, cheap kind (I think the two bottles were the price of one regular, decent bottle). I reach up and take the box down. I am trying to open one of the bottles, but whatever I’m doing causes the cork to crumble. I initially try to save it, but then just give in and let it crumble. I figure I will pour it slowly or even strain it to prevent the chunks of cork. Now, either in the bottle or the box there are what look like pumpkin seeds. I think I am scraping them away? Andrea from high school art class is here now, talking to me about the wine.

I am at work (it is some store, but not mine), when I notice a short, pudgy black lady come in that I instantly get bad vibes from. She has a large and empty looking tote bag that rolls behind her and is wearing flip flops. My first thought is that she’ll be heading for the shoes to load up her bag and put on a new pair since there’s no way she’s really wearing flip flops in this colder weather. I follow her a bit, trying to impress upon her that she is obvious and is being watched, but she easily deflects everything I say to her. Now I think I have to leave her for a while because it is busy with shoplifters or there is something else to do and it is just me here. When I come back to her, I see that she is leaving the shoe section and heading towards the front doors. I can see a shoe box in her bag (definitely not the only one either) and see that she has a new pair of what looks like Vans on. I ‘customer service’ her as much as I can, stopping just short of calling her out, because I wasn’t watching her the whole time. I say something about getting the box for the shoes she is wearing, but she is still not having it. She avoids me all the way to the door, when I get in front of her and tell her to come back. She is with a younger girl now and they both take off running. They go to the left and into a WinCo. I stop at the doors and watch as they’re lost among all the people.

The owner of Beer NV is having me hand out some things - beer and food, I think - to houses, I think because they can’t come inside for service. The neighborhood I am in seems pretty nice. On the porch of the first house I go to, there is actually more stuff than I was going to hand out. On a table there are a bunch of bags of snacks - chips and things. I pick up a good handful and start walking away. I then notice a male voice trailing me; I think the owner of the house noticed what I did. I keep walking and ignoring him until eventually he confronts me. I somehow work my way out of it, and we end up in a trade. I end up with three 12oz bottles of beer. They look familiar and I realize they are German, which makes me happy.

I am walking through what looks like Dad’s neighborhood (maybe on one of the higher streets, like Virginia Foothills). I run into Kat and she ends up walking with me. It is near sunset and some of the lower and plumper clouds are getting some color. The rest are smaller and almost evenly spaced, bright white against the blue. I look directly up and notice a glowing sliver of the moon. It’s all very pretty. Kat mentions the sky too, saying she’s grateful for Emma for getting her to pay more attention to it, and that she wants to see it more often. I take some pictures of it as we walk. We end up at her house. I think the garage door is open, and I can tell by the way she’s talking that she has intentions to leave now. Before she does, I somewhat bluntly mention how I want to stop drinking. This seems to pique her interest, and she talks to me about it. I tell her I feel like quitting altogether but am not sure if I should stick with moderation. She pulls a little red champagne flute from somewhere and hands it to me, saying I could use it for moderation. I look at it and its almost grimy looking opaque sides, imagining how it might hold a small serving. I kind of like the idea and think I might take it, but then change my mind. I say that I want it to be a mindset thing and not something like this. Now, Chelsea has shown up, I think in a car. She stands behind us and when she sees me she recognizes me but thinks I’m someone else. I tell her no and think it slightly odd that she wouldn’t remember me. I am now walking back, now either on a dirt road or a road surrounded by dirt and small hills. There’s a small stream of water running down this slope, through the soil and grasses. I follow it and see where it meets another stream on an opposing slope, turning to one and running downwards. I look out to my left and notice a hill where water appears to be coming from. There’s a tiny canyon carved into the soft looking dark brown soil, and I imagine walking through it. I am walking right by where the streams meet, doing okay with stepping on the sturdier patches of soil and grasses. Most of it is still soft and it’s hard to tell what will give, so I end up getting both of my shoes wet and muddy. I end up back home, rinsing and scrubbing them. I put them out to dry even though it’s pretty overcast.




I’ve gotten an email from the new girl at work (it’s not actually the girl who is supposed to start. I think I see a profile picture on the email or something and it’s an unfamiliar heavyset white girl). She’s asking about me not being there for a shift, but I’m pretty sure I haven’t been scheduled. I think I’ve been using time off. She sounds more like a manager than a coworker and kind of annoying. After the text there are a few pictures of a hotel room - I think it must be a work thing. The hotel seems nice and also very familiar. I think I must have stayed there before. I think it looks more impressive than it actually is. A picture of the shower shows the floor of small, dark pebbles and the opposing stainless steel shower heads. Now, I am in the hotel. It looks like someone had just been here but tidied a bit before leaving, so I guess I just missed her. There’s a full looking black garbage bag in the abnormally large space adjacent to the toilet. The toilet itself actually has a garbage bag around it, somehow from the ground up. I adjust the opening of the bag so as to be able to use the toilet.




I am somewhere with the family. We’re in a plain, rectangular building that is for something like customs or passports or photos (something that we have to do together as a family). I notice quite a few other families here too, I think seated at tables. Whatever we’re doing here, the personale is being very aggressive with us. They are making us do tasks or challenges that seemed to be designed to result only in failure. A younger guy, I think in a uniform, tries to handcuff me but only gets one finger. He notices, his facial expression betraying his embarrassment, and tries again. The same happens, though he doesn’t notice this time. He tells me to now “clap above your head and find some shade.” I think he also holds me down to ensure failure. Still, I succeed in clapping above my head, slightly satisfied with defying his expectation of failure. I’m not sure about the shade part though. These things go on for a while longer. When we are done, I’m thinking about how I’m going to write to someone about how atrociously we were treated.




From a third person perspective I am seeing a high rise building (a hotel) that stands alone on a sprawling fine sand beach. The building seems somewhat modern and is mostly a tower but with some structural embellishments at the base. It is also way too near the water and, in fact, there is currently water submerging the first few floors. I think there’s something about the occupants just staying inside when it floods, though that seems counter intuitive. Someone is interviewing a lone, blond man maybe in his late 20s. He seems foreign, probably European, though he is speaking more articulately than most native speakers. I think he’s talking about the structural design and why it is flooding.

I am somewhere outside? with Melissa, Pepe, and his mom. I think they both look high and then, sure enough, she lets on that they are. She confides in us that Caesar is the head of some pot farm/ selling ring or something similar. I can see it, imagining him and his boisterous personality right now. Now, I am climbing up through some tall and thin wooden structure. I pass through ‘floors’ that are spaces barely bigger than my body. Each side of the space, I think even including the top, is a mirror, making for a trippy experience. I now get to what seems to be the top. It is different because the sides are concave, joining in a small ceiling, and it seems there’s nowhere left to go. I don’t accept this possibility though, and push on one of the sides. It opens and reveals a vast, dim space that I think may be the pot farm.




I am in New York City with Melissa, walking along a sidewalk. The street is busy and I can smell and taste the putrid emissions from passing trucks. The sidewalk is close enough to the street, but it thins even further at one point, leaving hardly any space for foot traffic. We pass a tower with a parabolically curved glass facade. The glass is mostly translucent, but it gets much dimmer higher up. There is a space behind the glass, in which there are large advertisements. Melissa says something about how they won’t even be visible. I agree. We end up in a restaurant that seems familiar (from another dream, I think). I notice a couple about our age in the booth behind us, across from me. They are dressed pretty nice for this place and sitting on the same side. I think about their life. I notice a man in sunglasses sitting alone at a booth diagonal from us. Melissa asks to trade sides, and we do. I look through the fairly short menu and decide I want pretty much the first thing on it, some corn dog things. The waitress, brunette and maybe 30+, comes over and seems out of it, like drunk or sad or something. She gives us a minute. I look at the extensive beer list in the back. They’re sorted by brewery (they must all be local - I don’t recognize any), under the brewery’s logo. The price per beer is then listed after the name, lowest to highest, separated by slashes. Most of the first prices are six to seven dollars, but I see prices like 9,16, 27, 59, etc. I think these prices must be for bottles and/or pitchers but that they’re still ridiculous. I guess that’s just how it is in the city. Nothing sounds too good anyway, so I figure I’ll settle for a slightly cheaper bill. The waitress returns and sits by me, putting her hand on my shoulder. It could be a nice gesture, but with how she is slightly rubbing her hand it is taken a little too far. She takes Melissa’s order and then mine. I say ‘I just found something, where did it go?’, trying to find it again. I find it and tell her while also pointing. She doesn’t say much. She comes back and sits again. This time she reaches over and grabs my crotch. I am a little shocked and put my own hand over it. When I move my hand, she does it again and then leaves. I text or tell Melissa and she just shrugs it off. I want to tell her what kind of reaction there would be if the genders were switched.

Carlos and Kestlie have come over to Melissa’s. I am with Melissa, and I think we’ve walked out to meet with them. We are walking back along the sidewalk and Kestlie is talking about tattoos.

I am walking towards Lake Tahoe from Opa’s backyard (it is not actually the house’s backyard, but an expanse of land, seemingly all the way to the shore, fenced in, maybe 40 feet wide). It is full of larger rocks and water, like a drainage ditch, but with no perceptible slope. I walk on top of the light grey stones; there are enough to make this easy. I notice a couple walking not too far behind me. They seem to notice the ‘yard’ and the man comments ‘why would someone do that?’ or something similar, I think because it’s expensive. I get closer to the fence on the right side and on some larger rocks as the middle is thinning out. The fence is about to end in this direction, though it turns 90 degrees to the right. The fence seems to be a chain link with slats. There’s one wooden section though, which I am climbing on in my attempt to get to the lake. The couple is still nearby, and the guy mockingly says it’s illegal to just cross over now. I am now in a tree, with my foot in a crotch to rest my weight. I notice that the girl is blond and nearly flat chested, with a strapless, black bikini top on. I think the guy is blond too, and they both look somewhat older than me. They ask where to go from here (I guess standing on the ground with no problem, unlike myself) and I tell them I honestly don’t know. I see a section where the water has pooled in a shallower area. It is still and topped with numerous small spiderwebs. I tell them I wouldn’t really go that way. A few men appear and wade through the water with no problem. I say they can probably go that way now that someone ‘stirred’ up the webs, though I’m not entirely sure they’re listening. I think I’m down from the tree now.




I’ve arrived at Dad’s house, and there is some get together going on. I go into my room to put some things down. The room is actually unfamiliar, but the bed is made with my Grateful Dead blanket. Sara is in here with me.