The Sacred Bevvy

 I was at a concert (or some kind of fighting match) at a student nation (or home party, this was a very blurred dream) in Lund, where I met a young couple. I had brought with me a bottle of some really nice alcohol, which I drank straight from. Not whisky, sweeter than that, but still exclusive.

One of the guys in the couple offered to take the bottle for me and hide it behind a fridge. I didn't really see the need but it was nice to get my hands free and also let the young lad feel helpful. We talked a bit and I said something in the gist of me being their age, then realised I wasn't their age at all as they reacted to this. It just felt natural to bunch myself together with people who were not yet family people themselves.

Then it occurred to me that I was the old Wolverine drinking at the bar and that I could be sexy as such, rather than trying to fit in with the youngsters. This was a big deal as I realised this and the sole reason for me writing this dream down.

We went for a walk and talked about lgbtq issues and thoughts. We talked a bit about the Queer bit and he informed me about that. I was keen to listen as it's the letter that I closest relate to. We slid down a muddy hill and through a water puddle. They managed to do it stylish and standing, while I decided in my mind that I could never do it as gracefully and fell on my bum and then ended up lying and splashing in a muddy puddle.

We made it back to the party, which was now my mum's place. I was keen to get my bottle back. It wasn't there! I looked behind the fridge and only found empty bottles collected there. Kahlua and other things, but not mine! Someone might have stolen it. I realised then that I was looking on the wrong side of the kitchen, but the other side no longer had a fridge so I started looking behind the curtains instead. Nothing there. I looked on the floor below them with my torch and only found some chocolate covered snacks spread out under a rolling shelf table. It was a sad bit of business.

Then, somehow, I found a piece of glass on the floor. And another. And another. Suddenly they turned into a small whirlpool of brown glass pieces, spinning around and drawing themselves inward to form a shape, which flew off the ground as through a reversed fall and materialised into a bottle in the air. I caught it. It was my bottle - my beloved beverage in it.

The Meet and the Furious Dad

 Dad had been to a family meeting, where it had been brought up that one of the adjacent land owners had decided to close a road that had previously been of free use to the public, and so he was furious. 

I and a girl, who reminded me of Tasha, but I knew was someone else just not who, were riding in the back seat of his Chrysler as he furiously drove down the barricades and barbed wire now put up on the road. The girl was very beautiful and reminded me slightly of someone I don't remember the name of. She had a balanced calm to her, which was very soothing to the mind.

When dad had finished his first pass at opening up the road and started turning around to go again, I told him sharply not to. We'd be discovered. This was not a lawful act, after all.

Instead, I remember lying and talking gently to the lovely girl. We were good for each other. 

Back to High School

 I had planned to go back to High School for a while, and now it was time. I applied for the music programme at Spyken and they told me immediately that it'd be sorted. Both me and Martin did it, so I reflected over how fun it was that none of us had studied there before.

As we started and went to the first gathering, I wondered if it really was the right thing to do. It was all so that I could relive the past and ace it in all areas, after all. We had lunch and I went into the teacher's area. Since I was an adult, no one really questioned me being there. I found a fork, or whatever I'd been looking for, as well as a folder about myself and the exchange regarding me starting there. Rather than anyone expressing concern about a 37 year old going back to high school, I only found one letter from a teacher worrying about how muscular I was.

We tried finding our way back to the cantina but it proved extremely difficult and we ended up outside, going up a long hill with ancient, Greek-temple-like buildings.

Eventually we found ourselves in sports class, where we'd be doing a test to see how good our general sports affinity was. I hadn't been sure what kind of sports it would be, so I had brought several pair of shoes, some for dance and some for athletic purposes. I first went into a dance room, where a teacher was training a three year old. Then I found the hall with the testing, where everyone else was. We'd do two minutes per station of various sports. I started, quite poorly, with basketball and a group of teenage guys were looking at my feeble attempts at scoring a hoop with an apple instead of a ball. After a few missed shots I started using my telekinetic powers instead and just steered the apple into the basket. Then I let it just go up and down through the hoop for the remainder of the exercise and scored higher than anyone else.

I realised that I had the wrong shoes and so tried to combine impressing Louise Hansson with bringing the telepathically across the room. 

Zlatan's perfume and all the peopless

 I was running around a rainy neighbourhood of Swedish attached houses, looking for an elevator down. As I found one and got in, Zlatan was there as well. He shook my hand and proudly showed me a bottle of his new eau de toilette. He sprayed my wrists and I told him that it smelled very fresh. I was wearing a cool white hoodie and my pulled up jeans fitness trousers and felt very cool and ready to dance. 

"Yes!! Freshhhhh", he said. I got out of the elevator and accompanied my sister, Julia, to her audition, trying to help her find the right place. I think she was a young, dark-skinned boy at first. I found her reception and it seemed like she'd made it just in time to look at the lists and get assigned a group. There was a Julia on the lists already and she was sure it was her, but it turned out that was another person. They got into their groups and started learning a choreography. She was so small! Maybe five or six years old. I was hoping that there would be a part for me as well, in my cool dancer-like clothes. 

A guy working there wasn't impressed with me having met Zlatan and started making fun of him. Then he started making fun of his colleague who was smoking under the indoors smoking fan, as if he smoked just because they had that.

I met a sad, insecure looking guy at a table. I asked what he was doing and he said he was going to entertain as a clown at a party. I got excited, he got excited, and later he came up to me and thanked me as he had had trouble mustering up the courage to go do his job, until I came by.

There was a group of people with me now and we were going somewhere together. I wanted something sweet to bring along and eat on the way, so I stopped by a Lidl and was overwhelmed by the huge and scrumptious looking pastries they had. I explained to someone nearby that the brits indeed knew how to make the best pastries, but since I didn't want to overindulge, I bought half a raspberry donut and a fourth of an old chocolate donut. I was asked if I was going to eat them today and when answering positively, had them served on a plate. I had intended to bring them along, but they misunderstood and so I had to sit down and eat them in the Lidl shop. They were stale and tasteless.

Somewhere else in the shopping centre a Middle Eastern looking guy was making some sort of healthy and semi-sweet waffle for his family. As he took it out of the oven he invited me to have a piece and then one more. I tried accepting just one piece and it was lovely. Newly baked and just a little sweet. I asked for the recipe and he explained it to me. As I left I felt I wished I had a natural way of having him as a friend in my life, thinking that I mostly had white friends. 

I also thought about the clown from before and how it would be nice to keep in contact with him. Then I found skiing videos and photo's of him and his girlfriend on my Instagram. Turned out that we'd been skiing together ages ago but never really socialised, though I'd gotten his insta handle and tagged him in it. I forwarded it to him writing something in the style of "look what I found!", feeling very pleased (and amazed).

I was on that skiing trip and me, Martin and Gus has collided and skis were scattered everywhere. Martin sorted out who's skis were who's and we went down the slope. I was feeling very confident and went along incredibly well, going on to jump over obstacles with high speed and ferocity. Then I decided to do a 360 and jumped so high that I got tangled in a tree and fell down. But I still felt like I could do that 360 if the tree hadn't been there and that felt great.

I returned the skis and they asked my friends to stay outside so as to not have too many people who weren't customers in the shop. Mum had rented them for me and they looked slim and professional. The skis, not my friends.

I met Sofia Sörensen as I was trying to take a photo of a nice arrangement of flowers that might have been a cake, and asked her to hold them up and pose with them. That was not her thing and she started making silly faces, where I had hoped it would somehow flatter her. Her bestie, Sara, quickly joined her and I got some incredibly weird looking photos of them where it looked like Sofia had three eyes because she was half-covered with Sara's face. 

Standing in for Aladdin

 I was suddenly standing in for Aladdin at Lunds Stadsteater on the West End. Unrehearsed, so I did not know my lines, nor my changes or any other practicalities and there was no one there to show me anything. I just had to take a guess at which were my costumes in the wings, among them a giant face, which turned out to be for the role of Jafar's magic mirror, which I also had to do. It was terribly awkward. The only line someone ever gave me was "Jafar, ditt maktspel är över!" for the final scene.

(what do you call a tavern for immature young men who have to bring their own lamps? A "Lad Inn")

The IQ Test

 I was in a group of people, including Siri and a girl I was dating who looked half like an Indian woman and half like a goblin from Age of Wonders 3, who was wearing only a kind of latex corsette that stretched down to garters around her thighs. We were trying to solve an IQ / maths problem on a computer screen. It was as follows:

"Continue the following sequence for as long as you can. It may not seem like it, but there is an end to it. Andrea and Ingrid are wearing boxer shorts, Arvid is wearing briefs, Raskolnikov is wearing a jock strap (I don't remember the actual names). 

11, 24, 13, X, 15... "

Along with it was a calendar, noting down birthdays for the names mentioned. Andrea's birthday was on the 14th and the other's were  either before the 11th or after the 15th. I cried out that I had the solution, even though I didn't, and Siri sat ready to type. I failed several times, thinking it was merely a numerical challenge, and I got annoyed and let it all out on Siri instead.

I had figured out that the chain was based on even numbers being duplicated and the X's were for the numbers with birthdays on them, but somehow the chain didn't come to a logical conclusion.

Then the goblin I was dating cried out "my birthday is on the 17th!" and so I made an X for that date. It still wasn't accepted as the correct answer. I sighed. Then it struck me that the names mentioned had their underwear spelled out.

"What are you wearing for underwear?" I asked my goblin Indian date.

"Nothing!" she cried out happily.

I looked and, indeed, she was only wearing that corsette and the straps around her thighs. She looked at me expectantly as if she was waiting for a reward. I put my fingers down there as I started typing in that the chain ended on her birthday. She was very wet and gave out a moan. Apparently this had gotten her excited. Or she always was.

The problem dissolved on the screen and instead we were shown a form, on which to fill out our names and other details. We'd solved the it! 

Ass-birch

 I was back at the theme park, doing a show, but since it was the first time in a long while I took it as rehearsals, even if there seemed to be a live audience and I had a little chubby, blonde boy up to get his wand. I found a huge book to look in, played around and picked up a random wand box that looked nothing like the ones I'm used to and I had to tear it open to get to the wand inside. It looked a bit like Ron's wand, I think. I called it "a wand made of 'Ass-birch'" and made up some attributes of the wood. The boy was very happy to receive it.

James, Vaughn and Robert was there and we were driven home in a white van. I talked to Vaughn, who didn't react much to having me back, and I said things like "it feels like I never left/it's just natural that I'm here", etc., to make myself feel better about not being very welcomed back. We were going through narrow streets and past bars, roundabouts and wetlands and I discovered that I could fly like a kite behind the van, attached with some kind of wire. As we passed by people I recognised along the way I tried to show off, wanting to surprise them and get a reaction that I was indeed back!

Mathilda Fransson was one of them and at least she seemed happy to see me again. 

Mutsuko, Mitchell and Selina

 I was in Japan, visiting old friends in Sendai. Mutsuko was there and later on her mother arrived and it was a wonderful reunion. There was also a tall, young man who introduced himself as "is that a he or a she", which I apparently had asked about him last time I was there, in 2005 when he had been a little kid. I was enjoying speaking in Japanese, but it turned out that he knew both English and Swedish, as well, which he wanted to practice. As he moved to sit, I noticed that he had a bald patch. 

There were a lot of us, including dad's family and his parents. We were sat in what looked like mum's living room in the sofa and on the floor, and Mitchell Wallace was doing a silly pop-up show, looking up behind a wall. My grandparents didn't understand and they got a bit uncomfortable, commenting that this felt like an old racist parody of black people, so I had to point out that this was not the case and that Mitchell (whom I accidentally called Dave or something alike) is Hispanic, himself. He was there behind the wall with a group of roleplaying friends and they seemed to have a great time.

I had become obsessed with a porn model and was looking her up on my phone. In between her videos a guy showed up, giving life advice in ten points. I had been invited to a night of presentations and I felt like I wanted to copy his points and talk about them, but I couldn't find his video again. After looking through my childhood room, I found the points written down on a notepad and made my way to the place for the presentation, which seemed to be near Oscarshem.

There, Selina was doing a sort of fashion show with two other girls. They were wearing colourful wigs and clothes to match; she was turquoise-green. It was quite cosplayey. After she finished her friends rushed up to greet her and I felt that I probably shouldn't go on stage after this, talking about my ten points of whatever they were. Instead, one of her friends came over to me and was very happy to see me after all this time. It was nice.

The Queen, Donkey and Wictorian Flirts

 We were about to enter a conflict by Clemenstorget in Lund with a lot of people, but then the British Queen was there and she spoke the magic password, and an enormous gate opened near the station, where the entire Grand Hotel area had been sealed off with chain link fence. The whole procession slid forward smoothly, me near the Queen at the top of the carnival wagon we were riding.

It took us to "Hov", a new bar where the old Mango bar used to be. I pointed out to the Queen that it was a witty choice of bar, with that name. She nodded gracefully. Champagne was served. Wictor was there with me, being single and hitting on a girl that I felt was rather unpleasant, with a ratty blonde page. He changed to another one with curly brown/red and I got tired and tried to leave. Turned out parts of the bar was sealed off, too, and I got stuck halfway through a hole in a hastily put together, broken fence.

I and Wictor were running around snowy hills in a market that might have been in Stadsparken. We slid down one of them, holding hands, and broke straight through the ice of the pond below. He commented how my boots didn't look at all wet despite having been down in the water and then I fell through to my waist and he took back his words.

All wet, we climbed out. We met a girl he had been flirting with and though I first thought it was one of those I'd met before, it turned out to be a third one that I didn't know. She had curly brown/red hair too and was quite nice. We talked for a bit.

I was leaving a party and had to bring with me a lot of sweets that were either line or a gift. They were all loaded up on a cart drawn by a sad-looking donkey. I tried some slim marshmallows and they stuck to the plate. For some reason, I was told to go, so I sat up on the donkey cart as well and it started walking. As it occurred silly to me that we didn't wait for all the sweets to be loaded, I hissed to the monkey and it stopped. Snow all around. Evening. It started walking again. I hissed. It stopped. Waited. Started walking, hiss, stopp. We were almost all the way around the parking/turning point in front of the grand House, the cart started sliding backwards and the poor donkey had to struggle to hold us in place. When it started walking again I just let it. 

The Spargodt Heist

 We were five people pulling a heist at a big mansion that looked like Spargodt. Vaughn and someone who looked like Nick was among us. We'd managed a perfect infiltration and needed to do the final things to manage our escape. I found a set of cables, connected to an enormous generator, and disconnected them. The whole place went dark and I wasn't sure what else I was supposed to do.

The whole place was coming alive with security and other staff. I asked another of the people I was with what I was supposed to do and they told me to connect the cable and get the power back on again; we'd done whatever we came for, apparently. I got into a car, drove about ten and managed to wreck a streetlight on the way.

I found the little shack on the grounds where the other guys were already changing into their other set of clothes in order to sneak out unnoticed. Suddenly it was only me left, but I had forgotten my change of disguise and had to improvise. Just as I was done the door to the shack opened and my heist members were being shoved in, one by one, by some crazed looking man. He'd found us out. He also crammed in a horse in the shack and I suspected he was going to let the horse die and then have it explode on all of us.

I was lying down on the floor, trying to make myself invisible, as he was getting the other guys in and injected them with something that paralysed them. He then saw me and I did my best to look paralysed myself. He seemed to rack his brain but then another of the guys, who locked like Nicholas (I'd seen a commercial the day before with a guy that looked like Nicholas), moved and he jammed the large syringe into his ribs. I was going to be the sole person not to be injected...

I was on Hinge and had messaged an elderly Japanese lady. She messaged back and pointed out the meaning of ちょっわ, as I had misspelled ちょっと. 

My Blue Eyed Child

I had a child. A little baby. It was cooing and so happy to see me, which for some reason was a surprise. I didn't even think of whether it was a boy or girl. Just my child who was happy to see me, as if it already knew that I was daddy. Then I noticed it had blue eyes, which surprised me as I knew both me and its mother had brown eyes. But then I saw my woman and it turned out she had blue eyes, which surprised me too. Didn't identify her though.

Me and Jimand were running around a parking lot, freestyling hiphop. I told her that I guessed I'd now be a hiphop daddy. She thought that was funny. I climbed a random pillar and was a bit reckless, which made me think about whether or not I had an extra responsibility to be careful, now that I'm a dad. I didn't feel that, though. Life still needs to be lived and enjoyed. 

Cowboy Bilbo

 Me and Bill were at a meeting with a producer for a new Lord of the Rings film and it turned out that we got cast for the roles of Sam and Frodo! It was all very exciting.

I then vaguely remember something about a boy scout organisation and wanting to take a shower. 

Me and Bill were in some Asian country and a few British party girls were considering going out to party, though it was getting quite late. We found a place; a penthouse club, but for some reason I got delayed and as I was about to go up I called Bill to see if he was there for the last order, but he was already making his way home and said we could hang out tomorrow instead. Me, knowing that to be less than likely because we'd be tired and hung over, suggested we'd just see each other when the film started shooting.

I was in the north of Sweden and was going to take the train home to Lund. This is definitely a recurring theme, I now realise. This time everyone on the train were cowboy themed, including me, and we were told to get ready for some cosplaying and silliness. A girl made her way to the driver's seat and just started driving the whole train without knowing what she was doing. Everyone cheered, but after having gone a few hundred meters I told her to stop and go back. What if we met another train?

I had to go fetch something in the wooden attic of the train and so I went up through a hatch and met some people there, with whom I was supposed to prepare things. A little girl showed me how to open the hatch in the ceiling to reach even further up in the train and I thought it looked simple enough as she made her way to do something else. Martin Harvyl was there, eating with his family by a table as some other people, probably drunk, came up to help me prepare. I told them what the little girl had told me about reaching the next floor storage and they tried for half an hour to set up the foldable stairs that the girl had done on her own in less than five seconds. I grew tired of them and as I was going to show them how it's done they'd set up a table with a midsummer lunch just where the stairs were supposed to set up. I shooed them away and sat them up myself. 

The Airbnb, library and no Heroic

 Me and mum were travelling in another country, sharing an apartment with other travellers. It was wooden and mostly painted in green, with a lot of random stuff decorating it. We shared it with two other girls, probably in their late twenties.

I played a bit of Heroes of the Storm and did fairly well, though it was stressful. We were on infernal shrines and though I got killed as Alexstraza in the late game, the Li-Ming on the team managed to free the punisher and force the other team to defend until I respawned. A Zeratul was harassing me around one of our forts, but I managed to stay alive by healing myself. I had a rooting ability much like Anduin, which I occasionally threw into bushes. I found what I thought was the enemy butcher, but when me and our ETC (or was it Stitches?) killed it, it turned out to be a late game monster, where the team who had killed it won the match if things went into overtime. So now all we had to do was to stay alive. It was then that I noticed I hadn't chosen a heroic ability, nor any of the following talents, so I did that and as the time ran out I used it. I started chatting with the group, apologetically, about that and that I hadn't used Dragon queen. They were chill about it and I even got invited to their party. 

Turned out the one I'd talked to was a cute, blonde young woman. We decided to scrap the game and go to the library instead, where we found two books we wanted to borrow. This was part of the Airbnb where me and mum stayed. We got the books and went out into the warm summer night. I made some advances and we kissed. As we decided to go back in and leave the books, the proprietors were closing up but opened the door for us one more time. As I went up I thought to myself if this was a fling or something serious, but I hadn't gotten far until I realised Gustav Söllscher had invited a few friends over and that we were going to have a movie night. Mum was sleeping in a corner bed under the stairs and I didn't want to disturb her, so as the guys arrived I tried to keep them quiet and then went to see that my mum was comfortable. 

The Scarpa

 Me and mum had bought lottery tickets for Bingolotto. Someone in the store told us that we needed to know the "scarpa" code, because that's how you got the really big wins. The store manager reluctantly started spelling it out. The code itself was something based on the current time and only real store managers knew how to create it.

I was going to an audition in Stockholm and met Victor von Schirach and a female friend of his. I complemented his Scanian accent in the UD-series. We stood in line to be let in and I noticed that I was among the shortest people there. Reacting spontaneously when I saw a girl towering over me, surely at least 210 cm tall, I sad "wow, you're tall!". Victor gave me an elbow in the ribs and I realised how rudely that might be perceived, so I quickly followed up with "wow, I'm really like a kindergarten kid today, just pointing out everything I see" and joked around about myself. The tall girl laughed and things seemed OK.

I got inside a casting studio where a casting director / actor who looked a bit like John Lithgowe was going to try out three other people for a role. I sad hello to his female secretary and started helping out with random things in there, like pouring the tea, just to have a reason to be there. The CD told me to do something or not get in the way and I told him "no sir" and "no mister" and he got terribly angry for me calling him these prefixes. He got so angry that he wanted me to try out for the part as well.

I watched him try another actor out and he didn't stick to the script, which hed handed out just beforehand, at all. This confused the actor as the man seemed to just fling random insults at him.

I was playing the role of a little girl. Me and mum were out on a street in London and we were still looking for a full scarpa for our lottery tickets. We got into a store with a stressed business owner who was going to give it to us as soon as he had time. I decided to write my down in gingerbread dough, which I started to flatten out on a desk. Some other customers complained that the lottery had all gone to hell these days and that Leif "Loket" Olsson, the presenter of the lottery show, had started using the scarpa to sometimes devalue the lottery tickets.

Me and mum still were hopeful, though, and I removed a few scribbles from the gingerbread dough, to prepare for the scarpa. The proprietor started citing it, based on the current time, but for some reason we had to run and leave it all behind. We ended up in an alley, where two of my friends already were. They were scared. Then, the proprietor, played by Travis, arrived. He pushed me against a wall and, since I was just a little girl, I held up a small scissor to my chest, pointed towards him. He didn't notice, however, but started whispering in my ear that because he liked me, he'd give me the real scarpa. But I mustn't tell ANYONE else.

There were demonstrations / riots going on in the city, and one of the guys with us was hurt. The military had arrived, though it was just one guy and his giant pet robot, walking on two legs. He pointed at the wounded guy and told the robot to destroy that one. It fired off a few loud shots and then they headed off. We were shocked. As I went up to my friend who had been shot, he now looked like a poorly animated 3d character, or like a porygon, and he started to fall apart like ashes in the wind. It was as if he'd been de-programmed to unexist. We reflected over how cold and brutal the military was.