dog benches

I was going north on a verdant hillside street in maybe Buenos Aires, the street sloping up, with masonry walls lining at least the left side of the street. It was an overcast day. The street didn’t seem to have many buildings along it, and there were maybe hints of long view to the east, but I went by an amorphous iridescent glass building with rooms as big lobes suspended in the air, connected by glass passageways, including a meeting room, somewhat lower than the smaller lobe it was directly connected to, with a long center table and chairs around; I think I had visited this in an earlier recent dream with a class.

Then there were a whole bunch of events in what seemed to be STL (based on the WU people I was seeing) or later Somerville, on a mild shoulder-season late morning/midday (apparently Halloween) with sun low in the south:

  • The dad of one of my WU friends, who appeared as George Bluth, was in magenta dress for Halloween, and other members of the family were walking around with him and dressed with bits of the same magenta; I was trying to talk to my friend about his dad going all out for Halloween, and also to wish him happy birthday.
  • I remembered about my plague doctor costume and thinking I should go put it on.
  • There was a dog stuck in bench; three other nearby dogs were vexed about it, including a basset hound; Dad, sitting on another bench, was soothing the basset hound, but the basset was falling off the bench through the gap in back.
  • Another WU friend and his four brothers were talking about their dad’s embarrassing nicknames for each of them, while walking northeast over the large flat open space where the dogs and benches also were.
  • I wanted to get a smoothie and took a minute to figure out which 7-11 was closer, and decided on the one on Broadway.

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