Dream #1
I walked down a sidewalk of brownstone buildings in the daytime. I was going to meet my old friend R and his wife L. I saw them sitting on a staircase in front of a brownstone. I may have been looking at my BlackBerry as I walked up to R and L. I put my BlackBerry down and then looked up at R and L.
We were now in a large restaurant, somewhat fancy, with tall walls. The walls and fixtures were all made of wood and brass. Natural daylight probably came in through windows. We walked up to a table that had booth seats on one side and chairs on the other, with the booth seats' back serving as booth seats' backs on the other side as well.
I may have been standing there by myself, looking at my BlackBerry. I walked over to a much larger booth table, where a lot of people were sitting. These people were all my friends. R and L may have been among them. Behind the people were two tall windows, letting in a dim view of a tallish, brick row building and a deep, clear, blue sky.
I watched a group of women walk out of the row building. The women were all young adults, with short, pale blonde hair and bronzed skin. They wore tight, sleeveless or tank-top shirts and carried boxes or plastic crates with them, as if they were moving out.
Among the women was my old friend PD, who looked odd with short, pale blonde hair. PD seemed to be looking in through the window and into the restaurant. I waved to PD, trying to get her attention. But she didn't seem to notice. She continued with the girls down to a vehicle, maybe a van.
I told everybody at the table (I was still standing), "That was PD! I tried to get her attention!" I wondered whether PD and the other girls were all lesbians. For some reason their hairstyles seemed lesbian to me. PD was now among the people at the table. The people at the table were all conversing casually.
I walked away, reading my BlackBerry. I was now in a room, which was still in the restaurant. The room was about twelve feet by twelve feet, with gentle, yellowish, natural light coming into the room. But the room felt run-down, like the paint on the walls was chipping and the wood floors were unpolished. Three chairs of tall, old wood stood side by side.
Behind the chairs stood a young, Japanese man. The man held a cloth bag and a black, cardboard box like a shoebox. The box had dimmish, silver-grey writing on it. The bag had a Takashi Murakami flower and logo on it. I realized, from the bag, that I knew the man.
As the man and I conversed laughingly about how we knew each other (by speaking about how we knew Murakami), either R or R and L walked into the room. I thought, If R knows I'm friends with this man, he'll try to destroy the friendship. I walked out of the room.
I was back in the main area of the restaurant. I sat down at a booth seat in a half-booth table, behind which was dimness and a bar up at the top of a roughly seven-foot-tall tier.
A woman sat next to me. She was pretty, maybe ten years older than I, with long, blonde hair and a red dress. We spoke for a while and then were home at the woman's apartment. We were in bed. I was on top of her, moving against her. The woman looked like Cindy Crawford: thin, with dark-tanned skin and brown-blonde hair. She wore black panties and a black bra. As I rubbed against the woman, she opened her mouth in a wide "O" of pleasure.
I was now walking out of a large apartment complex with my old co-worker BK. It was probably early morning, the clear sky a dim silver-blue. BK and I walked under some scaffolding near some tall buildings.
BK told me, "When I was first looking for jobs, I used DO" (an old boss of mine) "as a reference. But I then realized that was a mistake. DO always gives the most restrained, least positive opinion about anybody he has to give a reference for."
BK may then have asked whether I used DO as a reference. I felt bad for telling BK yes. So I went into some long speech about how at first DO had promised me he would give me a good reference.
We were now walking through a wide, vacant lot of asphalt which was worn and cracked, with patches of grass growing through in places. We crossed a street, probably to a large, clean parking lot at the end of which was a clean, tan and pink shopping mall lit in watery, white light. We then crossed the street, back to the asphalt lot. Across the lot was a tall, wide apartment complex atop a tall, torn-looking hill. BK And I walked down the vacant lot, to another set of buildings and scaffolding.
BK started jumping around with excitement, all fluttery, like a girl. He started talking about how excited he was about some party he was throwing. He asked me if I was coming. I may have wondered whether BK was gay. I then began whether I had had sex with the blonde woman or with BK.
Dream #2
It was black night. I walked (counter-clockwise?) around a square of dwellings like very small rooms separated from one another by thin walls. The rooms had ceilings like thatch or wicker. This square of dwellings was in the center of a lawny field.
The rooms were all dimly lit, some with fires, some, probably, with electric light. The rooms were all filled with colorful objects, mainly swatches of fabric for clothing. The rooms were all for college aged people. I didn't see a lot of people (maybe none, at first), although there was an atmosphere of people being around, a feeling of liveliness.
I started looking into each of the room-units. I occasionally saw women's clothes lying on the beds. I took looks through all the clothing, seeing what I might like to come back to and try on. I now came to a room, brighter than the others, lit by electric light, with a few people all lounging around, mostly on the bed. The people may have been members of my college comedy performance group, although I think they may all have been women.
The people told me they knew I'd been looking through all the women's clothing. They told me I'd be welcome to try on anything I liked. I may have spoken with them a little, partly trying to justify my habit, about how I chose the clothing I would try on. I may have seen myself trying on a classical pair of thick, satin panties by the light of a fire.
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