EDM clubbers and the pirate who can't spell

I went down into the woods near our old townhouse, entering down the hillside path near Bob's house. At the bottom of the slope, where the creek passes by, a large group of guys were having out, listening to electronic dance music. They were dressed for clubbing, I suppose.

At first I approached timidly, expecting for some reason that they would be hostile upon my intrusion. I sort of passed through, down to the left, then set about climbing some rocks over the creek to get a better perspective. A guy with short blond hair, pretty Scandinavian-looking, saw me and helped guide me in getting the right footholds to get up.

At the top of the rocks, maybe ten feet above the ground, I found what looked like a sliced-off section of a metal boat, with seating, so I sat there and watched the gathering. Somebody mentioned to me that this hunk of boat belonged to a guy nearby (sitting higher up on another raised hunk of something) who was kind of dressed for yachting -- I think he had a skipper hat and maybe an eyepatch. They noted that he lamented his inability to spell, due to being a pirate.

Eh? A beard? AND a mustache??

I was outside in a small treed park near a house. A few friends and I were hanging out, idly bouncing and floating with fairy wings. A real, fairy-sized fairy with blond hair, with whom we seemed to be acquainted, came by and was wondering out loud how we were staying aloft — apparently she was only capable of flying in short bursts, more like assisted jumping rather than hovering.

She set out to discover if it really was as easy as we made it look. She bounced one or two feet in the air and fluttered her wings with all the power she could muster, and doing so she managed to hover in one place for a few seconds before dropping down again. If we had known in advance the adverse effect this would have on her, we would have warned her in advance...

She came to a rest lying sideways on a large green leaf, and we were astonished to see that she had aged greatly, but in a very strange way. Besides being exhausted, she looked fairly normal, her hair was still blond — and yet, she now had a pointy grey beard and a mustache. She herself was also incredulous. "Eh? A beard? AND a mustache??"

Hugging at Hogwarts

At a school/academy with a bunch of classmates. We are almost to our classroom, in a semi-covered courtyard reminiscent of a place in Hogwarts (a small open central grassy area with covered corridors surrounding it). A couple classmates are teasing me about this girl that I like (also present) who likes me too. She was cute (in a wholesome sort of way), somewhat short, shy, and golden blonde. I couldn't decide who she reminds me of in real life, but she seemed very familiar to my waking mind.

Because of my classmates' prodding, rather than being ashamed for no reason, and despite no official relationship between us, I walked over to her and gave her a hug from behind and started talking to her. Worked out pretty well.

Dexterously defeating the demon dame

Earth was being attacked by some other planet, but more specifically, I was about to be attacked by a demon woman. I was up in kind of a loft room at the top of a ladder (plain room, with drywall and not much in the way of furnishings). The demon woman was a normal humanoid shape, but covered completely with grease paint, and had a row of horns resembling the crown of the Statue of Liberty, but sticking straight up out of her head. She was climbing up the ladder into the room.

We then set about fighting. Apparently I had the upper hand, and as she got weaker, she became more obviously naked and started changing colors. I had some kind of stick and prodded once or twice at her naked (bluish) body, which displeased her. Eventually, with no power left, she ended up looking human, with long golden blond hair. I held her to the ground, face down, and used a knife to cut a two inch wide lock of her hair. I used the lock of hair to tie back the rest of her hair in a ponytail. Then I woke up.

Pizza runs at the schooly-mally place

Another dream involved several people trying to do pizza runs inside some huge school/mall-like building. The first time through, as everyone was getting towards the end of their runs, several things had gone wrong, and some people didn't have their goods to be delivered. I somehow went back to the beginning (i.e. back in time) and assisted various deliverers in getting their stuff. Two blonde girls in yellow fast-foodish uniforms were waiting outside a closed classroom door, but were afraid to knock and ask whether the teacher had the pizzas ready to be collected. So I barged in and asked the teacher, who was in the middle of a lesson. She said the pizzas weren't ready yet. Oops. Closed the door, gave the girls a shrug, went on to another classroom.

This classroom's teacher (reminded me of Nora England) was waiting on somebody to deliver the pizza to her classroom. Just after I inquired about it, a grungy-looking delivery guy came in with a box of sicilian-cut pizza. For some reason, he was writing down the teacher's name on a check while simultaneously slicing and dishing up pieces. Because his hands were busy, he could only write two little scratchy lines on the check where the name should be. The teacher remarked how the pizza was cut so neatly, it was the best she had ever seen. The delivery guy was using a knife and putting a huge amount of force down to make very straight, very deep cuts between the slices.

Meghan's change of face

Chanced upon Meghan M in the common area behind the houses on the south side of Cromwell Ct in Lake Ridge at the top of a small ridge behind Bob’s house and near the entrance to the woods. Was kind of disappointed when it turned out that her face was completely someone else’s, sort of a rounder, smaller, continental European young girl’s face. With sandy blond hair, of all things.

The Cantonese-speaking section of the tavern

Sitting at a booth table with Ray at a tavern/inn/restaurant. Sort of a musty dusty wooden kind of place.

Apparently in the "Cantonese-speaking" section, and trying to talk to each other in Cantonese. A tall blonde (caucasian) girl at the next booth (behind Ray) gets up and complains about our being there, apparently because our Cantonese isn't up to snuff and it's annoying her. She is used to the entire section speaking fluently, and apparently our conversation is somehow irksome.

Ray decides to be non-confrontational and gets up to move. I want to stand my ground, but there's no point staying there by myself. We head out of the restaurant, but as I reach the reception stand, I look back and see a waiter about to take her order. I look down and see a letter-sized pad of paper, take it, walk over while she and the waiter are starting to talk, and bop her lightly on the head with it.

The waiter just kind of looks up, dumbfounded, as I walk back out. I go down the hallway forwards the front door. There's a guy standing near there, who I'm sure would try to nab me if he had been notified what had just happened, but he doesn't do anything.

I think about the fact that I and a few friends have somewhat of a residence at one of the rooms there, and hope that they won't recognize me later.

Voluntary execution

We're in what seems to be a regular sized classroom in a high school. 30 or 40 people (men and women, mostly between 20-30 years of age) are (mostly) all standing up in front of rows of seats facing a firing squad of some kind (Nazi Germany, no?). They seem to have volunteered for this, however. From my perspective (from the executionees' right side) there are a few more gunners kneeling near me, ready to fire if something goes wrong. The first two or three rows are shot down without a hitch. In the next row, the guy nearest us (big, shaved stubble head) is having major second thoughts, and kind of looks away and sits down. The rest of that row are shot dead. The man* closest to the sitting guy fires and kills him.

A few more rows back, a group of friends, and notably a tall thin girl with medium-short sandy blonde hair (and maybe glasses) are awaiting their turn. To my left two guys (civilians) are sitting Indian-style facing the gunners.. they seem to not be participating. The one behind the other even seems kind of jovial. Finally, it gets down to the row with the sandy blonde girl. Suddenly, she up and says to a guy nearby, "Let's go for a walk." Apparently, the jovial guy on the sidelines hears this and for some reason thinks it's directed at him. He busts out a wide grin.

The girl and the guy she talked to, and a few others, make their way around us and to the door (front and left, from executionees' perspective). At this point I am the perspective of the man* who shot the sitting guy earlier. I really don't want to shoot the girl as she walks out the door, but I feel obliged to look like I'm trying. I fire twice, both shots landing above the doorway. They have left. A few of my colleagues slowly begin to pursue. I also go out into the hallway to try to find where they went. After I pass by a senior officer (reminds me of the principle Ferengi from Buffy) I hear their footsteps and voices but I'm not quite sure which way they are, as I find myself at an intersection of a few hallways/stairways.

Adventure, or something

Main character's Greg in this one... anyway, we're looking for some people to embark on an adventure with us... we seek a certain few people whose homes/mortgages have been "forclosed" or something... they have nothing to lose... the first one was a blonde in her early 20's, Scandinavian stock... well-built, not stocky but not exceedingly thin.. tall.. anyway, there's some adventure but I've forgotten where it goes.