I was at a hotel with the mother and brother of a friend of mine, Emily. Emily was not present. I was wandering around the outside of the hotel, which looked suspiciously like where I attended elementary school, with Emily's little brother. We were chatting about something I don't remember and then decided to go back inside, using a door that wasn't present at my school. We were in an elevator. Emily's mother was there, as were two other people, both of whom I know and neither of whom I talk to. All five of us were on our way to check out of the hotel, but there was no luggage in the elevator. We all had numbers. Emily's brother dropped his when the elevator suddenly tilted sideways. He nearly fell himself, but Emily's mother and I grabbed his wrists. His number fell through the door, outside the elevator. The elevator righted itself and the doors opened. There were two number card on the ground. Emily's mother said that she was number 60, so Emily's brother should take number 40. Mine was 116. We exited the elevator, stepping into what looked like the lobby of a hotel I stayed in in China. Upon thinking, the elevator was similar to one I encountered in France (I go on a lot of school trips). The hotel receptionists were calling out numbers, seemingly at random. They called 116. I was not sure if I was supposed to go to the desk at that time or wait for them to finish with 1-115.

And then I woke up.

Presumably because I have been re-reading the Harry Potter books, I dreamt that my dog could fly. I could ride the flying dog if I followed protocol similar to that required to ride a hippogriff, with the bowing and all that. So my dog and I flew a lap around the house and landed. There was suddenly a rack of...flying dog tack, for lack of a better term. I put something on the dog that was basically a halter made out of two leashes for reins and a band that would go around his nose. We flew another lap. I saw my mother approaching and quickly removed the halter. I think I thought she would be mad if she knew I'd used it. Instead, she yelled at me for flying without it.

Upon waking at this time, I had the distinct impression that the leash halter had been silvery, but in the dream, it was bright red. Apparently I subconciously don't know my colors.

Is it weird how much I seem to dream about Jake?

Will has chin length, straight hair in the waking world.

In last night's dream, it was at his shoulders and slightly wavy. I was confused because usually it is a white-boy afro, of course. He was dressed in a marching band uniform with a trumpet. I had two pictures (a yearbook?) of him from earlier (that day?). In one, he had curly hair. In the other he had straight hair. We were discussing whether or not he straightened his hair in between the two pictures.

It's a shame I have no time to update in the morning

I remembered when I woke up, honest. Something about a script. Reading one or writing?