Dream 1:
A bunch of fellow
band members who I had never seen before in my
life all met in a
Las Vegas hotel. We'd been called there for some sort of
performance. None of us were told directly by our band
director, we'd just heard from one another, and we assumed all was
legitimate because our
plane tickets were paid for.
After not doing anything in the hotel room but hanging out for a few hours, we started to
wonder what exactly was going on. We were all there by ourselves, with no sort of
chaperones or even the band director. Just us. One
girl started crying because she was
confused and
worried. She was
blonde,
blue eyed, about
5'4" and weighed about
140. I thought she was
cute, and at the time, I was trying to think of ways to
flirt with her without seeming
blatant (even though I had a
girlfriend in the dream, as I have in real life). There were about
seven or
eight of us in
total. Two girls, six guys. I decided that maybe I should call my
mom, because I realized that I had just told her I was going out for a bit, not going on a whole
bloody trip to Las Vegas (I live in
San Diego). I decided to borrow the
brunette's
calling card, though I've never used one in my life.
The
room was a
reddish
peach color, and fairly
large. It only had maybe
three beds, but had an
entertainment center in the
middle of it, and a
kitchen off to the side. I started using the calling card. The
telephone's
numbers were
arranged
oddly, so on my
first try, I
screwed up the
first three numbers. I
hang up,
picked up, and tried to
dial again, but all I heard was a
ring, and then an
automated message saying, "The number you dialed was an unpermitted
area code, someone will be over there shortly to
reactivate you." So I waited for awhile. I went up to the blonde girl and reassured her that everything would be alright, and she started
crying again.
Oops. I put my
arms around her and
hugged her, she hugged back, and kept on crying.
She and I talked for a good amount of time, she
calmed down, and I began to
wonder where the staff that was supposed to reactivate the phone was. I walked
outside of the room and saw a man
shouting into each of the rooms (the door to each room was open for some reason) with a
megaphone, asking who'd dialed the number. He finally came to me, and reactivated us. I tried again, and failed. I had to wait for the man to come back.
Some of the guys started playing the
N64 which had been provided in the entertainment room. The blonde girl started questioning why we were all there again, and blamed the
Asain guy. They apparently all knew each other from their
school, though as I said, I've never seen a single one of them. The blonde thought the Asain guy had
created a
huge prank to get us all to Las Vegas and
waste our
time, but I thought that to be a bit
ridiculous seeing how I'd never
pay for
seven or
eight plane tickets just to prank people. Somehow, I picked up the Asian guy and set him a few feet away from where he'd been. I don't know quite why.
The staff person came again and reactivated our phone. As I went to attempt the call to my
mother a third time the blonde girl put her arm in mine--we'd become
friends, and liked each other. I sat down with her to make the call, and saw that not only was there the phone that I was holding, but there was another attached to it. And another
pad for dialing. There were three total dialing
consoles, one with rearranged digits, one with the
alphabet for
buttons, for text input, and another one with the
standard arrangement of numbers. I decided to use the standard console for dialing, and I stared at the brunette's calling card for awhile. The number was shown at the
bottom as something like 183588238XX8382XXXXX8235XXX (literally). There was a number above that shown as something like 7283867231. Each time I came across an
X in the bigger
string, I was to put in a digit of the ten-digit string.
Weird. I didn't have to dial any sort of 800 number first either, I just started dialing that.. Well, I screwed this call up, too, so I had to wait for the man to come again to reactivate the phone.
By now, two or three of the other guys decided to start
smoking weed. While they were doing that, and then all of a sudden we saw the
maid come in who'd been working in our
bathroom. She said something like, "What are you going to do when the
police come with all that
smoke in here?" What the
hell? Police? I
ask myself that now, but in the dream, nobody cared. It wasn't as if the police were on their way, but more of a feeling that the police check out each hotel room as
protocol, after the peolpe check out. We told her to leave, and she opened a
door, but we shouted, "No! No! Don't open that door! The smoke will get out." Apparently there were two
entrances and exits to the hotel room, and we wanted her to leave through the other one, even though smoke would obviously
exit there, too.
As she left, she saw the staff coming, so she started yelling at him, no doubt to
report us. I said, "It's me! It's me who dialed the wrong number," to make him believe that that's what the maid was yelling about. I told him it was me, and he said, "you better stop doing that
or else" and uttered some sort of
threat. I then asked him, "Well how am I supposed to use this calling card without messing up? It's
hard!" It was! If I messed up the first three digits, the phone would automatically be shut off. One of the band members said to just dial one digit, very carefully, every few
seconds.
Dream 2:
I was at my
highschool. I had just
pissed in a
classroom that was
empty. In order to piss, I dropped my
shorts completely (?), and just slightly lowered my
boxers to piss. After pissing, I walked off, forgetting to put my shorts back on. So, for the longest time, I walked around
stretching my
shirt down (? I don't know why though, boxers completely seal any sort of genetalia from view). Eventually though I found my shorts and put them back on, though they were a bit
dirty, because they'd been sitting on the
steps of the
bungalo I had pissed in.
All of a sudden, I was in the
grass out in front of my old
elementary school. I don't remember if I was a
little kid or not, but I think I was. I saw my friend
Mike there, and he had all sorts of
paint. He was supposed to paint his body for something, for some sort of a
festival-like activity, but he wasn't, he didn't want to. I saw some other
boy who'd painted himself all up, so I asked Mike if I could and he said "
sure." I started with my
legs and
feet. I'd gotten them to be
blue and
red, and started
flicking a
paintbrush with
white onto it, making white
splotches and
dots on the red and blue. Next, I moved to my
arms. I realized I wasn't wearing any shorts or underwear for some reason (?) and realized that since I hadn't any sort of clothes on my
parts I could at least paint them. I now realize I
must've been little because I didn't care that my
stuff was showing, and, for some reason, nobody else cared either.
I asked Mike if I could put some paint on my
face and
eyes, etc, and he said that putting it on my eyelids was
risky. I did it anyway. So I
ran around, with no shorts or
underwear on, all painted up like an
idiot. I found some shorts later but I thought, if I wear these shorts, I won't seem as painted. So I forgot about them.
Dream 3:
I heard a
car, and looked out my room's
window (
second story) into the
alley. My
mom was pulling into the
garage with her
new car.