Battle

A bunch of people are surrounding a warehouse, planning to attack it. They all look kids, high school or college age, but I believe that I am the same age as them. There are groups of them running everywhere. I stop one group, among them are Billie Jo (a college girlfriend), Craig Humphrey (from High School), Blambo (a frat brother) and Matt (a guy that works that TM). I have to fight to stop them. I don’t know which one of them I am fighting, but I feel violet, powerful because I must stop them. But also helpless because they put up a good fight. And there are so many more of them. I let Billie Jo escape while I contain the others. I force them into an empty dumpster as a jail cell. I use some kind of weak chain to bind them together. There are members of other groups that have been captured and subdued, they have been also bound by long trails of chain linking them in a row as they walk by.

Crash

I am driving down a deserted street full of trash, pushing full boxes out the way with the bumper. It is not my car, but an old 70s town car. There is a kid on a bike riding near me. Then I am in an old house. There is an old man there. He is the owner or caretaker? Then I am laying on the floor of the empty living room on a pile of blankets or sleeping bags on the wood floor. I am curled up with a girl. We are trying to hook up but the kid is there. He wants to sleep where we are, he keeps laying down on the other side of the girl. At one point, I am fondling her breast and I look down and see the boy asleep wrapped around her legs using her ankles as a pillow as if she was a giant teddy bear.
Then I am upstairs in a room with Dad. He takes my pipe off a dresser and lights it with a cheap bic lighter. He says, “I don’t know how much marijuana you want to smoke.” He inhales? And hands the pipe to me. I take a hit and say, “I didn’t know you smoked.” He replies, “I don’t.”

Smile

For some reason I was being arrested and didn’t want to give up my digital camera. As the police beat me to the ground with billy clubs, my only thought was hoping that they didn’t break the camera.

Weird Al

I am at an outdoor festival in Bloomington, IN. I know it is Bloomington, although nothing looks familiar. There is a small stage in the street and I am watching 2 guys perform (a drummer and a guitarist). I am enjoying the song they play even though I have never heard it before. Blambo and some other guys join me. When the song is over, the two guys leave the stage and quickly take off down the street. I run after them and call out to the drummer. He stops and I tell him I enjoyed the show. Then the guitarist passes me and I now recognize him as Weird Al Yankovic, even though it looked nothing like him on stage. I say something like that I enjoyed it or that I’m a fan, I felt oddly star-stuck. He paused, nodded at me and continued on. I got the feeling he appreciated my comment. Now Blambo and the guys want to go get pizza or a drink. They start to walk off but I see that Blambo has left his car parked in the middle of the street. He wants to just leave it there. So I move it and try to find Brooke.

Out of character

Stacy and I are in the house we grew up in. Out the front living room window, we see Dad pull up and park a car in the middle of the cul-de-sac. He gets out of the car and then leans back in and pulls a rifle out the back seat. I want to go out and tell him to drop the gun, but I am afraid. I don’t know if he intends to shoot someone, is trying to protect us or is in a stand-off. He gets shot (in the arm or shoulder?) I know it is the police even though I do not see them. Dad gets shot again and stumbles, but he is still alive.

Oh crap

I dreamed I was using the bathroom (in Brooke’s apartment?) When I stand up, I see that there is shit on the toilet seat. The entire bowl is filled and overflowing.