I am in a classroom
with a dozen other people. The teacher, who is female and seems very nice, takes only a few of us into another room, more like a lab. There are several surfing posters pinned on one wall above a counter, and they're all from my 7th-grade yearbook. That particular yearbook (as well as high school, to an extent) was actually heavy on surfing and beach shots of a certain crowd, and my dream made it clear that these classroom posters were the same - but they were different.
After one of my peers and the teacher had a brief conversation about a place in Thailand, a short, balding, bespectacled man came in and showed us how to use the steam valves. That was when I noticed pictures on the wall with me in them. The hell? One was of me mid-jump, on the beach, age nine, wearing what I had on for my ninth birthday. The caption was something about me being a new age semaphore. I didn't understand then, and I really don't understand now.
I was also in a group shot of about five teenagers, again in mid-jump on the beach, but I was 19 and wearing shorts almost to my knees, a plain shirt, and belt. One of the girls had a drawing of a monster mouth taped to her mouth - on her actual mouth, not the picture. Another girl's shirt exposed a crudely drawn tattoo of the Izod alligator southwest of her navel. According to the caption, I had my own business, named 'Coup Productions.'
In what was probably another dream, I was home, in New York. I was to move that very night, but hadn't prepared, so I started going through my magazines. I kept a weathered Rolling Stone with Jack Nicholson on the cover (which I don't actually have). I guess that was all I needed in the world, because the dream pretty much ended right there.