Church classrooms are used as apartments during the week. They are all in a row along a back wall. The doors are curtains. My family lives here, and each time I come to visit, they are in a different room. Ben has his own, in the middle.
People are in the church kitchen, to make something. Taylor Swift is there, wearing shorts. She is standing in front of me, facing my direction, but not looking at me. She then walks to my left, to do something (wash hands?). I turn, and say to her, “It’s funny, some of the things they say about you.” She then has a mixed look of confusion, and curiosity. She says, “Oh, yeah? Like what?” I then tell her about an article I read (month ago?) about outfits she wears when she comes out of the gym, after working out, and that she wore heels.
One of the ladies in the kitchen is smoking. That got me upset, and incredulously told her to go outside, because this is a church. I then saw several others (individually) smoking, and told them the same. I couldn’t understand how they could be so nonchalant about smoking in a church.
(From Sept. 7, 2014)
An older man, half-naked, with a “pregnant” belly, is sitting in his (living?) room, on a couch, with a tv in front of him. He is to be part of a reality series. He says something to the camera people, then gets up, and walks past the tv toward another room. He has skinny legs, like in a cartoon. I don’t see his arms, but know he has them, because I see him holding something. His wife may have been there also.
Rue McClanahan is making something for him, as a surprise for him, in another room.
I am in a cultural hall, where people are making a life-size version of what Rue McClanahan was making, using plastic rectangular tables, folding them into the shape needed.
I glide across the floor, in my socks, while these people are busy. I am careful not to glide into their materials on the floor. Also seems there were crumbs of dark chocolate cake on the floor as well.
I see some colorful cake frosting on a knife on the stage, so go over there to get a piece of cake. When I arrive, though, that’s all there is.
A driver has somehow flipped a horse trailer, with a horse inside, while driving over dirt. The horse has fallen out, landing on it’s back. The neck is twisted / bent. The horse is moving around, wanting to get back up. A guy, a vet?, comes over, uses a (pocket) knife, and cuts a small section in the horse’s neck, below the jaw. He then slices a thin piece off of the muscle. The horse doesn’t move during this. The guy says something. I rub the horse, saying that it’s ok, because no anesthesia was used. The guy then says something again, but directed toward about the absence of anesthesia.
I see twins nursing, at the same time, laying on either side.
My dreams 