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.