Band kids

Okay. This one is probably one of the longest, most detailed dreams I've had, so strap in for some solid confusion.

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In an unnamed community center/park complex, I had acquired a new bedroom. It was essentially the same as my bedroom now, with a colour scheme of bright blues and yellows, but I no longer had a desk, and my room had been filled with bookshelves. All of the books on said bookshelves were colour-coded, which was very aesthetically pleasing, so I wasn't peeved.

My cousin was over at my house, trying to convince me to dress fancy that day, and little did I know that this would prove very helpful later on. I fished through a drawer of ostentatious purple bras, my favourite of which being the one literally made exclusively of rhinestones. I decided on a plain one, but I couldn't find a shirt to go with it, which apparently didn't faze me, and I left anyway (at some point later in the dream I acquired fancy clothes).

It turns out that the 3 bus had be re-routed to go right through my room; around my bed, around the bookshelves, and out again. However, the piles of clothes on my floor made it damn near impossible for the bus to pass, so I had to kick all of the clothes under the bed. The bus driver kept driving.

There was evidently something wrong with the structure of my bed, because the conductor of an orchestra comes into my room, fixes the bed, and informs me that musicians are generally really good at fixing things involving nuts, bolts, and screws. I figured that this is because we frequently fix music stands when they're flimsy. This was logical enough, so I accepted his statement and tried to carry on with life in my room, relishing in the fact that it would now be extremely easy for me to take the bus to school.

Suddenly all of the grade 9 band, dressed in full band regalia, files into my room with all of their instruments fully assembled. I didn't even know where they got 30 chairs, but I assumed they had gotten them from the downstairs portion of the complex where I lived. I suddenly really had to pee, so I ran away from them. Another member of senior band came with me, and together we quested to find the bathroom, but all this resulted in was us finding some sketchy little hotel room within the complex, which was incredibly creepy and also had no bathroom. She eventually went back to find the band, and I met up with a friend of mine, R, to continue my complex-wide search for a bathroom.

We wander through the community center until we come the pool. Now, this pool is not like most community center pools; it is a complex series of pool-roads, and the only way you can get places within the community center is to swim or wade there, and some of the waterways are more viscous than others. Naturally in an attempt to do something probably really mundane, I hurt my leg.

Technically we hadn't paid to swim, so we shouldn't have been there, but luckily no one noticed, despite everyone being in bathing suits and we were in street clothes. We finally got out of the pool and found a washroom that had no door, as well as two toilets that weren't in stalls, and three toilets that were in stalls. In an uncommon display of exhibitionist attitude, I took one of the ones not in a stall. Suddenly, a woman walks in smiling, telling us that she didn't see our swim passes, and that Sick Kids and some other organization are involved, and that if the kids in the pool get sick, it's our faults. She then politely informs us that this bathroom has a door.

A friend from class walks by and tells us that the group picture for a project we had done has already been taken, and I freak out because I'm wearing jeans (however, I had donned a classy shirt, and somehow was now completely dry). I sprint like a true athlete across the field back to the complex where my room is, and passed a group of Russians who were all jumping on each other piggyback-style, and the guys were just greeting each other over and over again. They were hanging out with one Asian guy. At this point I'm run-limping because I had hurt myself before, and the Asian guy from the Russian group starts running with me and hitting on me. I try to kick him in the chest and run-limp a little but faster.

There are some blurry events, and I am with S waiting for the bus, when an old elementary school classmate shows up. I want to confront him about him thinking I stuffed my bra in grade 8 (which I did not, thank you very much), but I'm too concentrated on sending S a completely incoherent text message. The classmate leaves, and S and I board the bus.

I texted M, asking if she would hang out with me, but she told me she was going to be a "total LL girl" at a party that night. My first thought was "why didn't you invite me?", closely followed by "what the hell is an LL girl?", but I didn't bother asking.

I tried to build a paper tower by folding a lot of paper around itself, but it wasn't very sturdy, and it broke when I twisted the top of it.

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