The Disagreement and the Music Men

Last evening's foray into the dream-scape proved disjointed and diverse. I somewhat recall pieces of several dreams, but none were particularly stable or lasting.  The last bit I remember before waking was my wife and I standing in line after some kind of extended travel.  She was wearing and uncharacteristic lipstick that was starkly pink. Her dress was also odd for her sensibilities. I think was a skirt-suit made from an ultra-glossy, almost plastic-like materiel. It was white heavily bordered with black. This may be incorrect, but it is the impression I currently have. Both of us were annyoed with one another. Whatever we were in line to see was of no interest to me and I wanted to leave the place all together. She wanted to leave out of annoyance with me, but she insisted we stay in line. The exhibit or whatever we were to see was all she really wanted to see.

There was another dream I had earlier on in my sleep that provided ample opportunity in which to become lucid, and I am somewhat disappointed that I was unable to do so. It began in some dark bedroom I was sharing with Mac and Chan. Interestingly, I was trying to sleep on the edge of a bed. I rolled off the mattress and onto the floor, and I was annoyed to discover Mac had laid down where my spot previously was, so I was doomed to the floor. I stood, and there was a verbal exchange between myself and Chan, that I do not recall the content of, and I left the room and found myself walking outside in the neighborhood in which I grew up. This is a place I have gain lucidity before, and the walk was rather uneventful and provided me with plenty of time to check my hands. I did not take advantage of this. On the walk I see the phantom of an old friend Kevin who I haven't seen for years. I say phantom because I briefly see him, and then he's gone before any interaction takes place. He just disappears from sight.  Even though he's no longer there I speak as though I am speaking to him and recall when we first became friends on the bus rides to school. After the walk I return to the house. Mac and Chan are no longer there. Two people are though, and the inside is no longer a house, it looks like a garage a band would rehearse in. Two fellows are there, one older and one younger. They are playing their guitars with violin bows, and the older man is playing an acoustic bass? upright with his bow. They tell me they made an album of music with this technique. I tell them I used to play bass, but I no longer do. Note about details: the guitar strings were severely worn into I assume from use of the bows. One of the large guitars the older man was using had its bottom half worn (or broken?) away. The garage almost looked like a wood worker's garage. There were wooden horses, particle boards, sawdust lying all about. The walls weren't finished with drywall, support 2X4s were exposed. It all looked very unfinished.