WARNING: Sexual Content

In the beginning it was just a lot of sexy stuff with one of my first girlfriends, Heidi.  I believe we were in the upstairs area in the house I grew up in, in South Pasadena. It was enjoyable, comfortable, fun, etc; there was some element of contrast with other dreams where the actual sexy part is brief or maybe just built-up, implied, alluded to, etc, but this was just all very literal.  It was just nice because there was no hurry or interruptions, no pressure or worry about making suspicious noises with other people in the next room, etc; just no other care or distractions.  I remember going down on her; she was evidently quite wet/creamy already, so I went for a little taste, but then focused more on her clit. She had a bit of extra bush which I’d say wasn’t the most visually appealing, but I didn’t get put-off too much by it; it was just a bit more on the chaos side of the spectrum than neat and trimmed as I’d prefer in general.  So we did some sex, then took a break.  We went downstairs where I believe my dad and perhaps some others were there who I didn’t recognize.  I just remember Heidi acting pleasant, just casual and friendly, and that caused me to note the contrast between how ‘normal’ it suddenly was in the quality of interaction, versus what had just been occurring moments prior — while I wasn’t directly in the conversation my mind was still a bit on what we had been doing upstairs.  Then I observed her figure more closely, I suppose that was a moment of lucid curiosity, perhaps as away to get some clues/context about how old we were in this scene, since I remembered she was quite a bit heavier at the 10-year high school reunion, then had children, etc, so it was nice to see she was nicely slim, still enjoying the benefits of youth. I think she was wearing jeans and had a white belt.  The conversation turned to her winning some kind of sweepstakes prize — I was curious about the company that it was with, even asked about it a second time for clarification, but the name didn’t stick.  It was a meaningful amount of money, maybe some combination of cash and prizes; I’d assume something like $5k total value, perhaps as much as $30k, but nothing absurdly big like several $million. I never heard exactly what the total value was — I was just gauging by the degree of excitement in the discussion of it.

Then suddenly I was in an urban area, and it was like I had gone back in time.  I arrived outside of a commercial building where Gordon Ramsey was holding a piece of paper that was an application entry into the sweepstakes that I knew Heidi had already won, or was going to win.  There was a lady speaking to him as I arrived who I believe had the preceding entry, in terms of numbering, and somehow I just knew that the blank one in his hand would be sent to Heidi and would be the winner.  So I said something about that fact to Gordon, and then it was time to go.  At first I was kind of just jogging down the street, maybe with a friend, and Gordon yelled “Guys…Five bucks!” in the same way that guys in the fraternity would yell “Two bucks!” as a ‘court’ violation.  Apparently there was some explicit rule against ‘puffer jackets’ and I happened to be wearing my green goose-down filled ski jacket.  Gordon gestured across the street or toward another building nearby, so I went over to take a look at some walls which had text painted on them to verify there was in fact some rule I had broken.  I saw one light-gray-colored wall, with faded black text, but I couldn’t make out the words; the text looked like newsprint.  The other wall was more like orangish marble tiles, like something you might expect to have seen at a ritzy bank branch back in the day when they tried to look opulent.  So I couldn’t confirm that I’d actually broken a rule, but I didn’t object to taking off my jacket.  Suddenly I was about ten-to-fifteen feet off the ground and my jacket was now more like a surfboard or boogie board; I was laying on it face down, with my arms and legs free to paddle and kick, and the air was now thick like water, at least for me.  So I paddled and kicked a couple blocks down the street, then crossed the street, then suddenly Gordon and I arrived at a boat.

While on the boat I asked Gordon if he’d done much exploring around the L.A. area, and whether he’d ever been to Catalina Island.  He said he hadn’t.  I mentioned that they have some pretty amazing water ski races from the mainland to the island and back, where they don’t use traditional ski boats, but instead use those cigarette boats and travel at really high speed. It was 26 miles each way; the waters were shark-infested with great whites, and sometimes when the guys wrecked it was fatal.  Then I began to explain the time when I was a young kid I went to Catalina for a sleep-away marine biology camp in four consecutive summers, after 3rd-6th grades.  I saw a lady out of the corner of my eye do a momentary eye-roll like she’d already heard the story 100 times, but I knew Gordon hadn’t heard it yet, so I began to explain how ‘way back when’ they were filming western movies on the island, and had brought over a herd of bison for the project.  Apparently they had lost control of the herd, they kept breeding, and now the island has bison that roam freely.  I may have mentioned how I was gored by one of the bison while on a hike at camp, but didn’t get into the details with Gordon about that.

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