07-16-2013 -- This one starts off with mom somehow driving me to church at the Buena Park Church of the Nazarene, though I have no idea what she drove me in. We park in the parking lot, and head inside for services. The church is very crowded and there isn't a lot of room in the pews. I head up near the choir loft, but I have no voice, so I know I can't sing with them. For some reason I don't feel much like a full, organized church service today anyway, so I take one of the hallways to the back of the building and up the stairs to where we used to meet as teens. I figure I'll find an empty room and just kind of hide out and read my Bible, but they've converted the entire upper floor into a single huge room without even a corridor, and I know I don't belong there. They are (politely) throwing out another adult who doesn't belong, but I turn around and head back down the stairs without needing to be asked to leave. I walk out the back door and just stand there for a minute or two, looking at the freeway and wondering if I want to walk home from here, remembering some of the trouble I have run into doing so in past dreams. While I am thinking about this, a huge bus pulls on to the median and stops, across the way on the freeway, and Brazilian tourists come flooding off. For some reason they are pulling down the fence separating the freeway from the road, and soon they are storming across the road to where I am standing. It must be the Christmas season, because both of the rear doors have strings of lights around them, and three huge colored light bulbs, as well, and for some reason the Brazilians decide they are going to steal our Christmas decorations. I try to stop them, but there are too many. I threaten to call 911, but they laugh at me and say they'll be gone long before the police can get here, and start back to their bus, our decorations in hand. They seem to have trouble with the bus, though, and can't leave as quickly as they want to, and I rush across the street to try and see the license plate of the bus before it drives off, but it moves too quickly for me, causing another accident. Almost instantly after that, the police arrive, trying to find out what they can about the accidents, and the bus that just drove by. I try to tell them about the tourists and the perloined Christmas decorations, but they don't want to listen, feeling the accident is much more important to investigate. I try to explain it was the same bus, and give them my information, but they refuse to hear me and I finally stalk off in disgust, and walk back to the church to talk to the assistant pastor, Terry. I apologize for 'losing' the decorations, and he admits it is not that important, and decides perhaps they needed them more than we did.
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