Back for good

I was back in LA. The house had been extended a thousand times and had so many rooms that new people lived there. The room next to David's had an annoying guy at the doorway on his phone. The bedroom temporarily had the sofa from the TV room while they decorated and the bed had gone for some reason, but the room seemed a lot smaller, like you could only just fit the bed there. I could hear someone say your girlfriend is here and David came into the room. He was really emotional and crying and wrapped his arms around me, but I was distracted by the 2 people in the hall looking at us, so I had to pretend to cry.

wANDERLINGS

I was watching a documentary about James' latest band. It was really well made but the only shot I can remember was when we had climbed a huge green hill and the Goodyear airship was taking off in the sky then the camera pans down to James talking about the band. I thought it was great.

On the Old Rag Doll

I dreamt I had to go onto the Old Rag Doll boat from the Rosie and Jim children's TV show. I had something like an olympic flame lantern hanging on the end of a pole. I had to dip it into an empty cauldron and light it while talking to a strange lady.

Half of the dream was in Tesco in Wycombe. Andy, the Risborough security guard, was there. I was picking up supplies ready to take the flame onto the Old Rag Doll. I hovered around the newspapers, which in real life I've just woken up to go and put out. It's 5.30am. I wish my time on the Old Rag Doll wasn't interrupted like this.

One Direction, Andy Warhol and me.

I dreamt that I was walking down a narrow road in London and I saw a house with fruit machines and slot machines in every window. Each machine was a perfect fit to each window frame. I suddenly recognized it to be the house of the band One Direction. It was well known that they live in this house and I had managed to stumble upon it. I would have been excited if my attention didn't turn to the supermarket next door. It was a big glass building, it looked a bit like offices. The big lettering said -something- Grocery Store. You could faintly see through the dark windows and I was sure I saw Andy Warhol inside.

I went in and sure enough there was Andy Warhol. He was the manager of the store. He was about 60 years old and had gotten quite fat. He was wearing his old blue jeans and shirt and tie, and he had a think black belt that was done up very tight with some of his shirt poking through. His hair was very similar to his old white wig but it was messier. Parts were hanging down the side of his face. I asked for a job, he was so excited that somebody wanted to work there and he was excited to make a new friend and appear cool to the other workers in the store. He took me over to a young girl who worked there and introduced me like a friend to her. It seemed he wanted her to think he was popular. I felt sorry for him.