I dreamt either I or someone very close was living in a onestorey flat with hardwood floors, painted white inside and out. in a beach community. I think it was my place. there was a chaise lounge chair next to the window to the right of the door. to the left of the door was the dining area and lots of windows. the dining area opened out to a patio area that someone at the door could see into if they stood on their toes and looked over.

we had a party and there was lots of nitrous. it was in the afternoon, and I was concerned that people could be seen through the windows from the street, especially whoever was sitting in the chaise lounge. I had to run to the nearby store and checked for noise and visibility from the outside, and found to my surprise and satisfaction it was not too loud and whoever was in the chaise lounge sank into it past the point of visibility.

before the last dream, or perhaps before those events but part of the same dream, I dreamed i was working in a new job in los angeles. one of the guys working there was CJ.

I was still working out my optimum route/transport to and from work. I had to drive over a grade to get there. I knew of one route and that is what I had been taking. it was some name that has faded but had two words in it, like nuevo verde or something along those lines.

I had been talking to CJ about this sort of thing and it came close to quittin time. turns out I could not drive myself home for some reason and CJ said he'd drive me. I told him that was kind, and sure. we got in his car, and he took off... up this grade.

i was at some sort of showing of neil gaiman's film works. this was exciting becuase it also had some of his older stuff which he had disavowed. one of the movies was very dark, perhaps it was his first? it had this trick with the credits where when his name showed, as director (joint with someone else), his face appeared and zoomed out. so not his current style.

in the movie there were three guys in tight black clothes, with tight black hats, armed and waiting on a roof in some post apocalytic urban environment. everything was black on black. the guns they had were very long barreled, exaggerattedly so.

and then my perspective changed and I was one of them, in the movie's environment. one of the others was darrel. I am still not sure why we were doing what we were doing. defending... ? against the regime? against mutants? against our own warped imaginations?

I was at some sort of posh gathering of people at a house in the country. the house has all thea amenities, with a pool and tennis courts out back, with a stable and hiking and riding trails behind. the was some sort of feeling of being there under duress. it was late summer / early fall in northern california, the weather reminds me of northern faire workshops towards the end of them.

I was with a friend who didn't know anyone. we walked up to an outdoor bar (not a serving one, but on where people could just stand and rest their drinks) and observed everyone milling about doing various activities. EJ was there near the tennis courts with a couple friends I barely knew. I decided I was remiss and should start introducing my friend. they walked up to the other side of the bar, and EJ set his drink down. I realized he was drinking from this plastic container that looked like it dispenses disposable towlettes. it had a red cap. I couldn't picture anything in there not getting tainted with the original contents.

I introduced and and this is EJ, who is drinking.... something gross. and he got sort of defensive. hey man, this container is totally handy. I stumbled over the names of the others, but he filled them in.

I dreamt that I was a character in wow, and the character attributes (like int) were like data that was physically gathered in a soft format. everytime I acquired more there was a swirling orangey glow around my head and torso that would intensify, and not quite dissipate.

then the hardware I stored these attributes on failed, and there was no recovery. all that int & spi, gone just like that.

this dream faded because my computer sounds off when people sign on and off chat, which tore my thoughts away from the dream on waking up. but what I remember is I was on some sort of staff, maybe for like a hospital. I hung out with three other people, two women and a guy. the guy was like a rather large pac islander type.

they had just made some sort of announcement - like we were migrating to a new location, or something unusual like that - and we were out of the meeting and going to eat. one of the women with me was getting stalked, but hadn't noticed yet? anyhow as we approached the food seating I asked the other two if they could sit so as to prevent this other guy from eating with us. we ended up in a booth in an uncomfortably crowded seating arrangement, but it got the point across.

there was way more to it, with office politics and intrigue, but all that stuck in my head was the seating thing.

this dream is pretty garbled, but I guess I was in some situation where we were living under adverse economic conditions (like the great depression, where everyone is broke). there was some sort of nazi-like persecution of minorities. I and a few others were supposed to come up with some sort of recipe or something for a contest.

apparently the recipe invovled making an edible cover for a piano. we were soing this in some sort of fairly large and ill-lit studio soundstage. I started by somehow covering the piano (a little cabinet one) from the keys up in gelatin. I had to go then and someone else on my team took some sort of stiff lacy-like edible wrapper and covered it. the entire concoction, one finished, was supposed to protect the piano, and yet be edible.

time passed, and there was something in there about a baseball game, but in the end this did not work and we had to start over. a lot of fingerpointing happened.

I dreamt I was talking to clara, and realized she was stoned. I could tell by the expression on her face. the realization must have shown on my own expression, because she said dude. I do this from time to time. you didn't really believe I didn't, did you? I wasn't sure what to say back, because, well, I had.